#alien invasion

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Aliens were really, hostile, and invading Earth, but nothing related to that was trending on Tumblr because some big fandom stuff had also happened.

[dymascus]

🛸

🐄

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Alt Rock to the Rescue

[Inspired by this art]

"...Alright, I might have an idea," John Constantine, who was seemingly busy texting someone for the past ten - or twenty, no one really counted - minutes, puts his phone away and snaps his head up.

The room falls silent. Superman blinks in surprise, Diana frowns slightly, and Batman's mouth is pressed into a thin, stubborn line. Flash recovers first.

"You have an idea?" He huffs a short, disbelieving laugh, "No offense, but I'm not sure a magic trick can help us against, you know, an alien fleet." He gestures to one of the screens on the wall, where said fleet is approaching Earth on live.

The rest of the Leaguers present don't exactly agree with him, at least not verbally, but the mood in the room shifts from tense, anxious alarm to an almost palpable annoyance. To be honest, no one was even sure why or how John Constantine of all people ended up in the meeting. It's not like JLD could actually help with an ongoing, massive invasion that was about to happen in less than three- Correction, less than two and a half hours. Besides, it's John Constantine. The man that never shows up unless outright bullied into submission.

The magician winces briefly and starts rummaging through his pockets under the weight of everyone's attention.

"I said I might," he amends gruffly, getting a cigarette out of one of his pockets and sticking it in his mouth but not lighting it. Seems like it wasn't what he was looking for, though, because after that, the man keeps going through the various places on his coat, patting himself down. "I know someone who can deal with it. Granted, I already owe him a great deal, but he won't say no," he pauses and grimaces, "At least I hope he won't."

"I do not think it would be wise to call upon gods in our situation," Diana tries carefully, but John pays her little mind.

"Or demons," Green Arrow adds, crossing his arms on his chest, "I'm not selling my soul to get rid of some rocket ships or whatever they are."

Now, that makes the magician bark a laugh. Or, maybe it's the piece of lime green paper - a sticky note, actually - that he finally finds in the depths of his pockets.

"Oh, your soul's gonna stay where it is."

"Constantine-" Batman starts, but John cuts him off instantly.

"Mine will stay wherever it is as well," he reassures the man, "It's not that kind of entity." And with that, he promptly sets the green note on fire - green fire - and uses it as a lighter for his cigarette.

The next moment after the note is reduced to ash, there's a shift in the air in front of him, and, before any of the heroes have a split second to react, there are two people floating in the middle of the room, backs pressed to each other.

Two teenagers, to be exact. A girl and a boy, both of them so pale that their skin looks gray, and both dressed in grunge, like they just came from a rock concert. Yet, that's where the 'normal' parts of their looks end - the boy's hair is so white it looks blinding, and moves in the air slowly, undeterred by gravity, and the girl's hair is neon blue, her ponytail flickering up like a flaming torch.

The boy nearly topples over as the girl leans her back on him harder and kicks her feet up slightly. The movement is awkward, like both of them were taken by surprise by the sudden relocation, and maybe the guess about the rock concert was not so far from reality; there are drumsticks in the boy's hands, and the girl is holding an electric guitar in her hands.

"The fuck?.." The boy asks no one in particular, as the girl makes an annoyed groan and straightens up, still floating in the air. Her guitar makes an aborted sound. Meanwhile, the boy's eyes land on Constantine, and his whole face scrunches in disgust, "John, for the love of Ancients, I was in the middle of something."

The girl takes a look around while her friend is busy expressing his annoyance and elbows him in the side, "Oi, look, it's the whole Comic Con in the flesh here."

Green Arrow sputters. Flash makes a wordless but very offended sound. The floating boy looks around, taking stock of faces in the room, and the disgust on his face morphs into exasperation.

He turns back to Constantine, "Really? I thought I told you I want no part in your furry parade."

"Alien invasion," the magician decidedly doesn't address any of that, instead pointing his finger to the screen behind him. "Thought you ought to know," he adds, a bit of sarcasm bleeding into his tone.

"Ooh, is it my turn to be your world saving buddy, Phantom?" The girl perks up, turning around and draping herself over the boy's shoulders with a giddy laugh. Her guitar shifts to hang in the air on her side all by itself.

The boy - Phantom - rolls his eyes. Bright green, glowing eyes that definitely don't belong to a human being.

"If I had a nickel every time I had to save the world, I'd probably be able to buy myself my own guitar," he grumbles and looks back to Constantine. "Do I, like, have to? Right now? You know, I don't get paid for this bullshit, and the studio we rented for rehearsal has an hourly rate, so if we can postpone this for about an hour and a half, that'd be real nice."

"The fleet is only two hours away from Earth," Batman supplies suddenly, and, when both floating kids turn to look at him, adds, "I can pay for your next rehearsal. Or a few of them." Evidently, Phantom's comment about nickels struck a nerve. Or, maybe, the man just likes throwing money at any teenager he encounters. Who knows.

The boy blinks, taken aback by the proposition. But the girl grins, sharp and wicked, and shoves her drummer - if the drumsticks are to tell - in the side again.

"Hey, free studio. Better than the last time."

That snaps Phantom out of his stupor, and he groans, "Don't remind me." With a weary sigh, he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in the air, almost like reclining on it. "Okay, fine, sure. Do you want them, like, away from Earth- um, this is Earth, right?" He turns to Superman, surprisingly, looking for confirmation, and the man nods, thrown off guard. The boy nods back and continues, "Or you want them blasted into oblivion, or what?"

"Whatever suits your mood, kid," John waves his hand at the screen as if making a welcoming gesture, "But all the aliens gotta go."

Unexpectedly, that makes the girl's grin even wider, and she reaches for her guitar, floating around Phantom and looking him in the face. The look she gives him speaks of mischief, and the boy seems to understand what she's implying before she as much as opens her mouth.

"Ember, no," he pounts a drumstick at her.

"Ember, yes," she wiggles her eyebrows, "Come on, your wail is boring as fuck as it is, why not spice it up?"

"I'm not wailing," Phantom scrunches his nose, "My throat will hurt for weeks."

Ember runs her fingers over the strings of her guitar, and it makes a comparatively quiet, vibrating sound. A few cords shoot out of the bottom of her instrument, like ones used to plug an electric guitar to an amp. She raises her eyebrows, still looking at Phantom, a silent conversation between them.

Then, the boy huffs and rolls his eyes, twirling a drumstick in his fingers.

"Fine."

The cords fly at him like snakes, aiming at his neck. None of the Leaguers watching the encounter get to say even a word as the metal pins insert themselves into the boy's neck, acting like some twisted kind of collar. Phantom doesn't even flinch.

Ember's guitar, on the other hand, reacts to the connection quite violently: it makes a high-pitched sound all on its own and then changes color from black and blue to white and green, with lightning bolts instead of flames for design. The girl's ponytail flares up higher as she softly murmurs in delight.

Then, she turns to the people around them and smirks, "Which way is the evil alien fleet?"

Flash wordlessly points his finger to the right and up. The girl nods in satisfaction, turning in the air so her guitar is facing that way.

"You might want to cover your ears," Phantom advises, a sly smile on his face and a glimmer of anticipation to his eyes. John Constantine follows that direction immediately, and, taking his move as the best course of action, the other heroes follow as well. Except Batman, who only narrows his eyes and looks at both teens in the air apprehensively. Phantom shrugs, "Or don't, I don't hold any responsibility for your shattered eardrums."

"Pick up where we left off, then," Ember tells him, and the boy blinks:

"Wait, I thought you'd just-"

[For some wholesome experience, put your headphones in and listen to 'KULT' by Jisaiah, grandson, and Steve Aoki]

But the girl has already started a tune, nodding her head to the rhythm of it and slowly picking up the pace. Phantom huffs, but doesn't protest any further, floating up as much as the cords allow him and spinning a drumstick in his hand.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

That the world's a fucking circus

That my life feels fucking worthless," he spits the words out with a sneer, slowly rotating in the air until he is hanging upside down. His eyes are closed, and his voice becomes more and more staticky with every new sound. The volume of Ember's guitar gets up, higher and higher, until the walls and the floor of the room around them start to vibrate.

Then, Ember's voice joins Phantom's, and the boy brings his drumsticks down on thin air, mimicking the moves. Only, even with the actual drums not there, the air around him ripples like they are, and they all can hear the beat.

"Maybe I should join a cult

At least they'll tell me it's not my fault

When it all comes crashing down

We'll see who's laughing," both kids pause, just for a beat, and Ember uses that split second to spin the volume knob to the max before strumming her guitar in one wide, sharp move.

"NOW!"

The sound wave is not only palpable, it's visible. A wave of toxic green ripples through the air, knocking everyone present - sans the two kids in the air - to the ground, and goes beyond. The screens on the walls flicker and turn off, sending sparks in the air, and the comms give off loud, screeching noises, and-

The following silence feels almost deafening.

Batman, unsurprisingly, is the first one to stand back on his feet and see a few of the screens come back online.

Just in time to see that same green wave of... sound? energy? power?.. decimate the entire fleet like a wet cloth over a chalkboard. One moment, the spaceships were there, and the next they are gone, wiped out of existence.

Ember laughs, leaning back and almost doing a backflip in the air.

"That was nice, dipshit!" She shoves Phantom in the shoulder, and the boy snorts, plucking the cords out of his skin and grinning.

"Yeah," he agrees with a smile, not even looking at the screens around, "Maybe we should try rehearsing in space next time. Sing to the stars and all that crap."

"Sing to the stars?" Ember raises her eyebrows mockingly as the rest of the heroes scramble to their feet, bemoaning their ringing ears. "Na-ah," she clicks her tongue and turns to Batman, "You still up for paying for our studio?"

The man just grunts in a semblance of affirmation.

"Sweet," the girl grins and offers Phantom a hand for a high five, which he returns instantly. "Cheers to the world being saved once again!"

The boy just rolls his eyes and turns to Constantine, "Next time, be a dear and text me before summoning, or I'm going to sell your soul to Morpheus, and who knows what he'll do with you."

John Constantine grimaces. "I did," he offers grudgingly.

But both unearthly teenagers are already gone without a trace.

[Edit: I want everyone to know there's ART now!!!]

[Edit 2: There's more art!!!]

[actordougjones]

“There is something comforting about an alien invasion led by Doug Jones.” ~ The Hollywood Reporter OPERATION TACO GARY’S hits theaters Friday, February 27! Starring Simon Rex, Dustin Milligan, Brenda Song, Jason Biggs, Arturo Castro, Tony Cavalero, Doug Jones.

[psychedelium]

Bruce Pennington

[trianglegoddess]

I'm Still Standing

The League felt like they had a strong sense of Phantom’s power. After all, they wouldn’t have asked him to join the team, otherwise. He’s strong, he can fly, and due to his supernatural nature, he’s amazing on recon and stealth missions. He’s also incredibly reliable, and smarter than most people give him credit for. He’s a natural hero, a more snarky Captain Marvel, some news outlets have been saying. Always saving people with just the right words to say, with a humble smile on his face. 

Phantom, with all of his power, seemed untouchable in every definition of the word. 

And then they got invaded by Darkseid. 

It wasn’t the first time Darkseid had invaded Earth, but it was the first time bringing armies so large, the first time he’s attacked all over the world to spread the League thin. It is single handedly the worst alien invasion Earth has ever had. 

Batman, bleeding out on the sidewalk, Wonder Woman knocked unconscious and restrained by a nearly egregious amount of henchmen, Superman, weak from the kryptonite Darkseid had shot him with. Thankfully it had missed all the important bits, but with that bullet inside of him, Superman was also down for the count, as well as dozens of other League members. 

If it hadn’t been for Phantom, they would have lost. 

Phantom, who’s never been seen without a smile on his face until now. Phantom, who’s never had so much as a scratch on him, until now. Phantom, who has only ever been known to be kind and compassionate, even to his villains, until now. 

Usually there’s this sort of warm, comforting feeling that radiates from Phantom. It feels like a nice breeze on a warm summer’s day, a nice cup of hot cocoa, your favorite song. It’s a feeling of safety, as if everything will be alright just because he’s there. 

Here, though, something else, something much stronger, is radiating from him. It practically rolls off of him in huge waves, making those conscious around him more aggravated, more on edge.

Phantom pulls himself off of the ground. His suit is torn, and his green blood splattered on himself and the ground. He spits a glob of it out, along with a tooth. 

“Still, you stand,” Darkseid says, as if tired. “Do you not tire in the face of your own demise?”

“As long as I’m still standing, you won’t ever win,” Phantom says. His voice is low and threatening, reverberating eerily off of the broken infrastructure that surrounds them. It sends a chill down everybody’s spines, though if Darkseid is affected, he doesn’t show it. 

“Your comrades have fallen, your militaries have failed, and you have no other help arriving. Pray tell how one singular human will be able to take me down!” 

Phantom doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he walks forward so that his friends are behind him, and braces himself. Darkseid, unable to contain his own hubris, lets Phantom come closer. 

Phantom takes in a deep breath, as if he’s about to speak.  

Instead he wails. 

Any remaining glass shatters, raining down upon them as green sound waves push back the offending forces. 

And it’s loud, of course. The ears of Darkseid’s minions are bleeding, and many of them are either dying because it’s too much for them to bear, or they’re killing themselves to give themselves some modicum of relief. But it’s also more than that, more than noise. 

It’s mourning. 

The first feeling that overwhelms everyone is anger. Phantom’s anger at Darkseid, at the destruction, at the fact that he just can’t catch a fucking break and it’s not fair. The second, is the sadness. It weighs down upon their shoulders, suffocating them like smog. It invades every part of their being-their lungs, their joints, their very hearts-and it presses and presses and presses until there’s very nearly nothing left. 

Phantom still pushes on. He is nothing if not persistent, driven to fight, driven to protect his people, his team, his friends, his family. No mortal being could ever hope to have a lung capacity like this, but Phantom is no normal mortal, and Darkseid is finally starting to come to terms with that. 

The last wave of overwhelming emotion is more of an idea than it is an actual feeling. It’s not a threat, per se, but a promise. A promise to do everything in his power to destroy Darkseid and his forces permanently and with prejudice. A promise that no matter how hard Darkseid fights, he will not win. 

A promise that, if knocked down, Phantom will stand back up, and he will not lose. 

Eventually, after what feels like eternity, the wail dies down. There isn’t a single member of Darkseid’s army that’s still on their feet or in the air. Phantom collapses down to one knee, and bright, white rings flicker around his person for just a moment, before he wills them away and stands back up. 

It’s less walking towards Darkseid, and more stalking. They are not on equal footing. Phantom is the predator in every sense of the word, his anger and grief still radiating off of his body in ways that Darkseid is unable to comprehend. 

“Do you yield?” Phantom asks. His eyes are blazing green, burning into Darkseid’s very soul. It is a sort of animalistic, primal instinct deep within him that tells him, run, run as fast as you can. Darkseid’s hubris, however, remains unmatched. 

Even as he stares Death in the eye. 

“I do not,” Darkseid says. He tries to get to his feet, but his body won’t listen, still weighed down by the effects of Phantom’s wail. 

“Then as Phantom, King of the Dead, I hereby condemn you for the rest of your afterlife.”

“Don’t count your eggs yet, boy,” Darkseid spits. “I’m still alive.”

“No,” Phantom says, in a tone adjacent to someone who’s giving their condolences, “You’re not.”

Phantom gestures beside them, and Darkseid spares a glance and sees…Himself. 

His corpse is splayed on the ground, blood spurting out of his ears, nose, and eyes. He stares lifelessly up at the sky. The blood is still leaking down the sides of his face. 

“You’re dead now, Darkseid, and therefore under my jurisdiction. Due to your extensive list of crimes you will not receive a hearing, just your eternal damnation for the sins you’ve committed.”

Phantom waves his hand, and green chains and manacles appear on Darkseid’s wrists and ankles before he’s dusted out of existence, sent to his eternal punishment in another dimension. 

As soon as he’s gone, Phantom collapses to his knees. 

He’s not sure how long he’s there, sitting in the blood of those he’s killed, before Wonder Woman comes over. She’s covered in gashes and bruises and blood that isn’t hers, but she still stands tall and proud. A battle won is a reason for celebration, after all. 

He glances behind her, sees Superman taking Batman into his arms and flying off. 

Diana doesn’t ask him questions about how he’s feeling. A victory is a victory, sure, but not without its price. 

Instead, she holds out her hand. Danny grasps it, and allows her to help him to his feet. 

“As long as you can stand, you can win,” Diana says. “I think I’ll have to use that for my next big speech.”

“By all means,” Phantom tells her. “Just be sure to credit me.”

“Deal.”

[akemi2003]

Fic prompt #36

Dpxdc

Do you have in mind the theme of the multiverse? I do

In the fandom, we often call it the Ghost Zone, or sometimes even the Infinite Realms. But something that doesn’t come up as often is what happens to alternate versions of Danny once he becomes the High King.

My idea is that, in different timelines, every version of him becomes aware of each other. The distance between universes might affect when or how this awareness develops, but eventually, they all wake up with the memories and experiences of their counterparts.

—————————————————————

When Danny took the throne of the Infinite Realms, something shifted — not just for him, but for all of him. Across every timeline, every branch of reality, every fractured shard of “what if,” the crown echoed. And one by one, the other Dannys stirred.

They didn’t meet face-to-face, not at first. It started with dreams: memories that didn’t belong to them, feelings from lives they hadn’t lived. The boy who grew up trans in Universe 32 woke one morning with the weight of a hundred other lifetimes pressing behind his eyes. He remembered being born male, he remembered laughter with his best friend that became something more intimate, he remembered victories and deaths that were not his own.

Each Danny was still himself, still shaped by his own choices — but now they were also something greater, a chorus. A network of selves stretching across infinity. The closer two universes lay, the quicker the connection came; the further apart, the slower the awakening. But no version of him was truly alone anymore.

To be High King meant to rule the Infinite Realms. But it also meant to be infinite — a single soul spread across endless reflections, finally aware of itself.

——————————————-

The attack came without warning. Alien fleets tore through Earth’s defenses, and even with the Justice League throwing everything they had into the fight, the cost was staggering. Cities burned. Millions were lost before the final mothership fell.

And yet, when the smoke cleared, one mystery stood out above all others. Amity Park — and the few towns circling it — remained untouched. Not a single building had collapsed. Not a single civilian had perished.

The League couldn’t explain it. Their satellites had recorded the same devastation everywhere else, but for some reason, every assault ship veered wide of Amity Park, as though the city simply didn’t exist to them. When Superman and Wonder Woman flew reconnaissance, they confirmed it: Amity had been in the middle of the warzone… but shielded by something they couldn’t sense.

Whispers spread fast. Some claimed it was luck. Others feared some darker bargain.

Danny, meanwhile, sat in his room with his head in his hands. Because he knew. He knew it wasn’t luck. He knew it wasn’t the League.

The crown had acted. Or rather, he had — not consciously, but through that vast, tangled web of selves that had awakened the day he became High King. Across the multiverse, other Dannys had felt the attack too. One had reached for power. Another had willed safety. A third had whispered a desperate “not here.” And together, they had shifted reality just enough to keep Amity untouched.

The price was that Danny could feel it now: the grief of every world, every self, pressing down on him. The weight of millions dead. His neighbors smiled in relief, but Danny couldn’t. Because he remembered their faces, even if they hadn’t lived here.

——————————————-

The League didn’t waste time. Batman had already noticed the inconsistencies in satellite footage — alien ships changing course mid-attack, their formations subtly warped as though bending around an invisible barrier. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Something protected that city,” he said in the post-battle debrief. His tone was sharp, leaving no room for argument. “And it wasn’t us.”

The others agreed. Superman pressed for patience, suggesting it could be a natural anomaly, but his eyes said he didn’t believe it either. Wonder Woman pointed out that magic often left subtle traces, and she had felt something in Amity’s direction during the fight.

So, they went. Not in force — not yet — but with a carefully chosen delegation: Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, and J’onn. They arrived in Amity Park two days after the battle, to a town buzzing with unease. Citizens were celebrating their survival, yes, but there was also an undercurrent of guilt; everyone could see the newsfeeds, and they knew how badly the rest of the world had suffered.

The League found Danny easily. He hadn’t exactly been hiding — but he also hadn’t left his house since the attack. His parents thought he was shaken from the destruction elsewhere. Only Jazz noticed how hollow his eyes had become, how he flinched when anyone mentioned the survivors.

When the knock came, Danny already knew who it was. He could feel them. The crown inside him — the network of selves whispering across infinity — hummed with warning.

Batman was the first to speak once they stood in his living room.

“Amity Park was untouched. The invaders ignored it. Why?”

Danny swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He wanted to lie, to say he didn’t know. But the problem with being tied to infinite versions of yourself was that you carried all their instincts too. And one of them, somewhere out there, was too honest for his own good.

J’onn tilted his head, watching Danny carefully, and said the words the others were afraid to ask:

“What are you?”

Danny froze at J’onn’s question. His throat tightened, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. What are you? It wasn’t the kind of question you answered lightly — not when the answer had the potential to shake their world.

“I’m just… me,” he finally muttered, eyes down. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t know why Amity was safe.”

Batman’s stare was sharp, but he didn’t press — not yet. He simply said, “We’ll be in touch,” and the League left as suddenly as they’d arrived.

But they weren’t done.

Over the next few days, strange things started happening around Amity. Superman, flying high in the atmosphere, noted an energy field radiating faintly over the city — one that didn’t match any known technology or natural phenomenon. Wonder Woman left subtle wards near the town’s borders, only to find them tangled by dawn, as though another force had rewritten their pattern overnight. J’onn attempted a surface scan of Danny’s mind but was immediately met with static, like a thousand voices whispering over one another in a language he didn’t know.

And Batman… Batman went digging. Files on the Fentons and their ghost-hunting tech that never worked.

The League regrouped.

“He’s hiding something,” Batman said flatly, pulling up grainy footage of Danny phasing through rubble to rescue civilians after the battle. “And it’s not small.”

Superman leaned forward, expression troubled. “But he also saved people. Maybe whatever this power is… it’s protective.”

“Or dangerous,” Diana countered. “He may not control it. And if that’s the case, it’s only a matter of time before the balance tips.”

J’onn was the quietest, but when he finally spoke, it chilled the others.

“When I reached for his mind, I didn’t find one presence. I found hundreds. Overlapping. Reflecting. Each one felt like him, and yet… not. As though he carries more lives than he should.”

A long silence fell. None of them liked the implications.

“Then we need to know the truth,” Batman said at last. “Before the world finds out what kept Amity Park safe. Because if we don’t understand it…” He shut the file with a snap. “…someone else will.”

—————————-

Amity Park should have been celebrating. The rest of the world had burned under alien fire, but somehow their little city — and the towns around it — were left untouched. No craters. No casualties. Not even a scratch.

But instead of relief, unease settled over the streets.

Because people weren’t stupid. They saw the news. They saw how every major city on Earth had suffered. And they saw the Justice League arrive in Amity Park days later, not to explain, not to reassure, but to watch.

Always circling the same boy.

Danny Fenton.

At first it was little things — Superman “coincidentally” flying past the Fenton household three times in one day. Wonder Woman asking teachers at Casper High strange questions about Danny’s attendance and behavior. Batman spotted on a rooftop overlooking the Nasty Burger just as Danny left with his friends.

It didn’t take long for the town to notice the pattern.

Whispers spread fast.

“Why him?”

“Was he part of the attack?”

“Is that why we were spared?”

The relief of survival curdled into suspicion. No one said it too loudly — no one dared, not when the League could hear everything — but people began keeping their distance. Parents pulled their kids closer when Danny walked by. Neighbors who once waved now shut their doors a little faster.

The irony was that Danny didn’t seem any different. Still awkward, still trailing behind Sam and Tucker, still the quiet kid who never made trouble. But the more ordinary he looked, the more unsettling the League’s fixation became. If they were watching him this closely, after millions had died elsewhere… what did they know that Amity Park didn’t?

By the end of the week, the whole town was holding its breath. They had survived the aliens, yes — but now their safety felt less like a miracle, and more like a warning.

And at the center of it all stood Danny Fenton, the boy under the Justice League’s gaze.

[filmso2]

Prey

2022