Marvel Earth-919
So I was inspired by B-WHERE on YouTube with Earth-919, a moral inversion of heroes and villains.
Heroes include Mr Big (Wilson Fisk), Loki, Doom Knight (Victor von Doom), Green Ghost (Norman Osborn), Geiger (Emil Blonsky), Freedom Fighter (Bucky Barnes), Altruon (Ultron), Dragon (Gene Khan), Polaris (Erik Lensherr), Aegis (Cain Marko), Doctor Divine (Nathaniel Essex), and Genesis (En Sabah Nur).
Villains include Saint Murdock (Matt Murdock), Engirson (Thor), Dr Reed Richards and his mutated trio, Red Thread (Peter Parker), Maestro/Dozer (Bruce Banner), Imperial (Steve Rogers), Pincer & Sting (Hank Pym & Janet van Dyne), Continuum (Vision), Warmonger (Tony Stark), Director X (Charles Xavier), Agent Optic (Scott Summers), Agent Omega/Reaper (Jean Grey), and Reign (Ororo Munroe).
So I'm gonna come up with some myself.
(I will say one of my ideas is switching the Guardians of the Galaxy (Star-Lord, Gamora, Drax, Rocket, Groot, and Mantis) with the Black Order (Ebony Maw, Cull Obsidian, Proxima Midnight, Corvus Glaive, Supergiant, and Black Swan), as well as switching out Adam Warlock for Thanos, I just don't have good stories for any of them.)
T'Challa: Obsidian King
After T’Chaka’s assassination, T’Challa did not open Wakanda to the world—he did the opposite. Investigating global history through intelligence archives, he came to a cold conclusion: every major world power inevitably collapses into corruption, war, or exploitation. Rather than risk Wakanda becoming another casualty, T’Challa reshaped its philosophy. He dismantled the ceremonial aspects of Wakandan tradition and replaced them with a hyper-efficient, surveillance-driven monarchy. The Heart-Shaped Herb was no longer sacred—it became regulated. Only one Panther could exist, and that Panther would be perfect. T’Challa began intervening globally—not as a hero, but as a silent corrector of civilizations: Economies destabilized if they threatened Wakanda, leaders were blackmailed or replaced, and technologies were sabotaged before they could rival vibranium. To the world, Wakanda remains a myth. To those who uncover the truth, it is something worse: an invisible empire ensuring no one else rises.
Namor: Tidebreaker
Namor was still born of two worlds—but in this version, Talokan was not hidden in strength—it was slowly dying. Pollution, deep-sea mining, and climate collapse devastated Talokanil ecosystems. Namor grew up not with pride, but with constant loss—watching entire regions of his kingdom become uninhabitable. When he first encountered the surface world, he expected enemies. Instead, he found something worse: indifference. Governments ignored the oceans, while corporations exploited them. Heroes focused on threats they could see. Namor chose a different path: He revealed Talokan to the world, demanding cooperation instead of war. He rescued coastal populations from disasters, becoming a visible protector. He acted as a diplomat, warrior, and symbol of planetary unity. But every step forward was quietly sabotaged. Ships vanished. Alliances collapsed. Technology failed at critical moments. Eventually, Namor uncovered the truth: a hidden power was ensuring the world never changed. That discovery led him to Wakanda—and to T’Challa.
Remy Lebeau: Kingbreaker
Remy was still born into the Thieves Guild—but in this version, he never developed the guilt or longing for redemption that defined him. Instead, he saw the Guilds for what they truly were: outdated institutions pretending to have honor. Remy didn’t want to belong—he wanted to own. He began quietly sabotaging both the Thieves and Assassins Guilds: Stealing contracts and selling them to both sides, rigging missions to fail, and eliminating key figures under the guise of “bad luck”. When tensions peaked, Remy orchestrated a full-scale guild war… then profited from the collapse. But what truly elevated him wasn’t crime—it was his mutation. Remy realized his power wasn’t just about explosions. It was about stored consequence. He began applying it to systems: Charging infrastructure to cause delayed disasters, rigging financial assets to collapse at precise moments, and turning everyday objects into invisible, timed weapons, and even gaining the ability to pull kinetic energy from external sources. He became known as Kingbreaker—the man who could topple empires without ever declaring war.
Anna Marie: Siphon
Anna Marie’s life was still defined by isolation—but instead of yearning for connection, she came to resent it. Every touch took something from someone else… and gave her something in return. At first, she avoided people. Then she realized: why avoid what makes you stronger? Under Mystique’s influence, Anna reframed her power as a gift: strength, memories, skills—everything people are could become hers. Identity itself became fluid, collectible. She stopped seeing people as individuals and started seeing them as resources. When she met Remy, it wasn’t romance—it was recognition. He saw systems as tools. She saw people as fuel. Together, they formed a perfect predator dynamic: Remy destabilizes environments, while Anna harvests whoever survives Over time, Siphon lost track of who she originally was. Not because she forgot— but because she no longer cared.
Bella Donna Boudreaux: Queen of Blades
Bella Donna was always raised to lead the Assassins Guild—but in this version, she rejected what that leadership meant. She saw the Guilds not as families, but as cycles of inherited violence. Her breaking point came during Remy’s manipulation of the guild war. She realized the war wasn’t tradition—it was theater. People were dying for systems designed to never change. Remy wasn’t an outlier—he was the logical outcome of that system. Instead of taking control of the Assassins Guild, Bella Donna dismantled her claim to it entirely. She vanished, re-emerging as an independent force: hunting remnants of both guilds, protecting civilians caught in their shadow wars, and systematically undoing the structures Remy and Anna exploited. She became known as the Queen of Blades—not a ruler, but a counterforce to inherited power. Her mission is not revenge. It is to prove that you are not bound by the system that made you.
Clint Barton: Deadeye
Clint Barton still grew up in chaos—an abusive household, the circus, survival through skill. But in this version, he never internalized the idea that his abilities should help people. Instead, he learned one core truth early: Everything—and everyone—can be reduced to a target. The circus taught him performance. S.H.I.E.L.D. refined him into a weapon. But Clint grew disillusioned with heroism quickly. Missions failed not because of lack of skill, but because of hesitation, morality, and “collateral concerns.” So he removed those variables. Clint went rogue after a mission where he was ordered to hold fire to avoid civilian risk—only to watch the target escape and later cause mass casualties. To him, that moment proved that mercy is inefficiency. He disappeared and re-emerged as Deadeye, a contract operative who doesn’t just kill—he optimizes outcomes. Assassinating political figures to “correct” unstable regions, eliminating heroes whose presence escalates conflicts, engineering impossible shots that rewrite entire battles in seconds. He doesn’t see himself as evil. He sees himself as the only one willing to take the shot others are too weak to make.
Giulietta Nefaria: Aurelia
Giulietta Nefaria was still born into power and crime—but in this version, her transformation comes not from obsession, but from clarity. Raised within her father’s criminal empire, Giulietta learned to wear masks early—socialite, strategist, weapon. The golden mask was never about hiding disfigurement. It was about control. But over time, she realized something unsettling: Everyone around her—including herself—was playing roles dictated by legacy. Crime families. Power structures. Endless cycles. Even Clint, when she encountered him, was just another kind of mask—someone who had reduced himself to a function. That realization broke something open in her. Giulietta didn’t want to rule the underworld. She wanted to end the need for it. She vanished from the public eye, dismantled her own operations from within, and rebuilt herself as Aurelia—a strategist dedicated to exposing and collapsing the systems that create people like her… and Clint. She still wears a mask—but now it’s transparent, almost luminous. Not to hide. To remind herself that identity is something you choose, not inherit.
Natasha Romanoff: Red Ledger
Natasha was still forged in the Red Room—but in this version, she didn’t just survive it. She understood it. Where others saw cruelty, Natasha saw design. Emotional bonds create hesitation, identity creates weakness, autonomy creates unpredictability. Instead of escaping the Red Room’s ideology, she refined it into something far more dangerous. After completing her training, Natasha didn’t defect—she disappeared into the global intelligence web, systematically dismantling rival spy networks, not to destroy them, but to absorb and repurpose them. She created something new: The Ledger. A decentralized, invisible network of operatives, assets, politicians, and criminals—all unknowingly manipulated through psychological profiling, blackmail, and subtle conditioning. No uniforms. No allegiance. No awareness. People don’t work for Natasha. They simply make the choices she’s already planned for them. Over time, she erased “Natasha Romanoff” as an identity. What remains is a presence whispered about in intelligence circles: Red Ledger—the ghost who writes outcomes before events occur.
Galina Nemirovsky: Red Star
Galina is not the first Crimson Dynamo. She is the latest in a long line—each pilot treated as expendable, a symbol rather than a person. Raised in a decaying industrial city, Galina grew up idolizing the Dynamo program. To her, it represented protection—someone willing to stand between the people and the chaos of the world. When she was selected as the next pilot, she expected honor. Instead, she found truth: previous Dynamos discarded after missions, armor designed with remote overrides, and missions that prioritized politics over lives. Galina realized the title wasn’t a hero; it was a tool of control—not unlike the systems Natasha had perfected. But unlike Natasha, Galina rejected that philosophy. During a mission gone wrong—one quietly influenced by the Red Ledger—Galina severed the command link to her armor mid-operation, saving civilians at the cost of disobeying orders. From that moment on, she became something new: not Crimson Dynamo; Red Star. A symbol not of state power, but of chosen responsibility. She now operates independently, protecting those caught in geopolitical crossfire and actively dismantling hidden systems of manipulation—including Natasha’s.
Stephen Strange: Sanctifier
Stephen Strange was still a brilliant, arrogant surgeon—but in this version, his defining trait wasn’t ego. It was intolerance for imperfection. As a doctor, he couldn’t accept uncertainty. A surgery either succeeded or failed. A patient either lived or died. There was no room for chaos. His accident didn’t just take his hands—it shattered his illusion of control. At Kamar-Taj, Strange found something intoxicating: a system where reality itself could be studied, categorized, and controlled. While others saw magic as a balance, Strange saw it as a flaw. Too many variables. Too many rogue elements. Too many sorcerers making subjective decisions about reality. So he began refining the mystic arts—not to protect reality, but to standardize it. He mapped spells into rigid frameworks. Cataloged dimensions. Eliminated “unpredictable” entities and practitioners. Eventually, he reached a conclusion: Reality suffers because it is too free. Strange transformed the Sanctum Sanctorum into a nexus of control—a system that monitors and regulates magical activity across the planet. Spells that deviate from his “acceptable parameters” fail. Artifacts lose power. Sorcerers find their abilities… quietly removed. He no longer calls himself Sorcerer Supreme. He is The Sanctifier—the one who decides what reality is allowed to be.
Karl Mordo: Wayfarer
Karl Mordo was always a believer in discipline and the natural order—but in this version, that belief evolves into something more human. At Kamar-Taj, Mordo was the ideal student. Respectful of tradition and culture, devoted to balance, and suspicious of those who bent the rules. When Strange arrived, Mordo initially admired him. Here was someone who could push the boundaries of magic further than anyone else. But over time, Mordo saw something troubling: Strange didn’t just want to master magic. He wanted to remove its unpredictability entirely. Where Mordo saw balance, Strange saw inefficiency. Where Mordo saw life, Strange saw error. The breaking point came when Strange began stripping other sorcerers of their power “for the greater good.” Mordo confronted him—and lost. Not in a duel, but in a decision. Strange didn’t kill him; he simply cut Mordo off from structured magic entirely, declaring him “too variable.” Cast out, powerless, and betrayed, Mordo wandered the world. And discovered something Strange never could: Magic doesn’t belong to systems. It lives in forgotten rituals, cultural traditions, improvised acts of belief, and sheer human willpower. Mordo rebuilt himself—not as a master of controlled magic, but as a student of all magic around the world. He became the Wayfarer—a traveler who learns, adapts, and protects the chaotic, human side of the mystic world, creating a patchwork magic born of various cultures (Taoist wards, African spiritual rites, Celtic sigils, etc).
Logan Howlett: Apex
Logan’s life was always violent—but in this version, the key difference is this: He never wanted to be anything else. From his earliest memories, Logan understood the world in simple terms: There are predators, and there is prey. Attempts to civilize him—whether through mentors, teams, or found family—never truly took root. He played along when it benefited him, but deep down, he saw morality as a restraint invented by the weak. Weapon X didn’t break Logan; it validated him. The adamantium bonding, the conditioning, the endless missions—it all proved one thing: He was right. He wasn’t a man turned into a weapon. He was a weapon finally given the body it deserved. After escaping Weapon X, Logan didn’t run from his past. He refined it. He became something far more dangerous than a berserker; he became a hunter who understands patience. He began targeting superhumans, soldiers, assassins, anyone who considered themselves powerful. Not out of duty, but to prove dominance. Over time, stories spread of something stalking the strongest beings on Earth. Not killing randomly. Culling. Logan no longer fights for survival. He hunts to maintain what he sees as the natural order. He is the Apex Predator—and in his mind, the world is healthier for it.
Victor Creed: Grimfang
Victor Creed was always a monster. But in this version, he remembers something Logan chose to forget: What it feels like to be human. Victor embraced violence early—he reveled in it, defined himself by it. For most of his life, he saw no reason to change. Then came Logan. Not as a rival; as a reflection. Over years of brutal encounters, Victor began to notice something unsettling: Logan wasn’t losing himself to the beast. He was refining it. Where Victor was chaotic, Logan was becoming perfect. And that perfection was worse. Victor started seeing the aftermath: entire teams wiped out with surgical precision, strong fighters reduced to nothing without a chance, no struggle, no fight—just inevitability. For the first time, Victor felt something unfamiliar: Disgust. Not at the violence, but at what it had become. Logan had removed the only thing that made monsters bearable: Emotion. Chaos. Humanity. Victor didn’t become a hero overnight. He didn’t seek redemption. But he made a choice: If the world was going to have monsters… It wouldn’t have perfect ones. He became Grimfang—a brutal, relentless protector who throws himself at threats no one else can survive, especially Logan. Not because he’s better. But because he’s the only one who understands what Logan has become.
Kitty Pryde: Agent Geist
Katherine Pryde was once defined by empathy—she could move through walls, but she never disconnected from people. In this version, that empathy is systematically stripped away. After her powers manifest, Kitty is quickly identified and taken in by the X Division at a young age. Director X recognizes something uniquely valuable about her mutation: She can bypass any boundary—physical, digital, or conceptual. Instead of nurturing her, he reshapes her. Kitty is trained not as a hero, but as a perfect infiltrator: phasing into secure facilities, extracting targets without detection, sabotaging resistance movements from within. But the real change comes from how Director X conditions her psychologically. He teaches her: attachment creates hesitation, identity creates vulnerability, presence creates consequence. So Kitty learns to detach. Not just emotionally— existentially. She begins spending more and more time phased. Walking through the world without interacting with it. Observing without being seen. Acting without being felt. Over time, she stops thinking of herself as a person. She becomes a function. A ghost in service of order. Agent Geist. To the mutant resistance, she is a myth: cells collapse overnight, leaders vanish from locked rooms, data is erased from systems that were never breached. You can’t fight her. You can’t even confirm she was there.
Emma Frost: Sovereign
Emma Frost was always powerful, ambitious, and unapologetically self-serving—but in this version, her evolution comes through choice, not redemption. After the rise of Director X and the X Division, Emma sees what his system is doing to mutantkind. Reducing individuals to assets. Stripping identity in the name of order. Turning children into tools. Emma refuses to submit—not because she’s moral, but because she understands something fundamental: a world without individual will has no value, even to someone who seeks power. She aligns herself with Polaris, joining the Brotherhood of Higher Beings—not as a subordinate, but as a pillar. Where Polaris leads with vision, Emma enforces presence. She reminds mutants of who they are, forces them to confront fear rather than submit to it, and builds a culture of strength rooted in identity, not domination. When she learns of Agent Geist, Emma is… unsettled. Not because Kitty is dangerous. But because she represents something worse: A person who has erased herself. Emma makes it her mission not just to stop Geist— …but to bring Kitty back, even if Kitty no longer wants to exist as herself.
Daniel Rand: Azure Tyrant
Danny Rand still became the Iron Fist—but in this version, he misunderstood the lesson of Shou Lao. Where others saw the dragon as a test of spirit, Danny saw it as proof of a deeper truth: Power is clarity. And clarity must lead. After leaving K’un-Lun, Danny returned to Earth and was horrified—not by crime, but by chaos: systems contradicting each other, heroes clashing over ideology, innocents caught in endless cycles of conflict. To Danny, the problem wasn’t evil. It was disorder. So he returned to K’un-Lun and sought something more. Instead of simply wielding the Iron Fist, Danny forced a deeper bond with Qinglong—the Azure Dragon of perfect order and celestial authority. The result was transformation. Danny no longer channels the Iron Fist. He embodies a living mandate of balance through control. He declares that the Eight Capital Cities of Heaven—and Earth itself—must be unified under a single will. His. He begins conquering the other cities, not out of cruelty, but conviction: “Balance is not found. It is imposed.”
The Immortal Defenders
A coalition of champions who reject Danny’s singular vision. Each represents a different expression of balance, proving that harmony comes from contrast, not control.
Ami Han: White Fang, champion of Baihu
Ami embraces strength—but believes it exists to protect, not rule. Power with restraint.
Jimmy Woo: Verdict, champion of Xiezhi
A detective turned living embodiment of justice. Fairness through clarity.
Seol Hee: Luna Flare, champion of Zhuque
A pop singer who now channels elegance into protection. Grace through renewal.
Pearl Pangan: Iron Tide, champion of Xuanwu
A defender who believes endurance is the foundation of peace. Resilience over aggression.
Cindy Moon: Silk Weaver, champion of Zhizhu Jing
Sees relationships of all kinds as the key to balance. Connection creates harmony.
Amadeus Cho: Sage Hound, champion of Huodou
A genius who channels chaos into controlled brilliance. Chaos controlled.
Lin Lie: Grave Dragon, champion of Yinglong
A quiet protector tied to both life and death. Balance between extremes.
Thoughts? I think I've got some good stuff going here. And seriously, check out B-WHERE's Earth-919 playlist on YouTube!
B-WHERE's Marvel AU where morality is inverted; heroes are villains and villains are heroes.