(photographer voice) "okay, now let's do one where canon events play out slightly differently and everyone ends up in a significantly worse place because of it"
here's an au of an au because i have issues watched the genghis khan music video one too many times. lore dump + crops/bonus art below
Due to an unfortunate combination of chance factors, Razputin Aquato arrives at Whispering Rock one day late.
He finds the camp a ghost town. The campers are stumbling around, brainless; the counsellors, nowhere to be found. Ford doesn’t know what to make of this kid showing up out of nowhere – but he’s got promise, and with Sasha and Milla out of action, he’s their best hope. He gives Raz a crash course in what he needs to know, and sends him out across the lake.
Raz pulls through, against all odds. But he never gets the starstruck meeting with his heroes Sasha and Milla that he’d been hoping for; never gets to bond with Lili, or any of the other campers. It’s a harrowing and lonely experience for him, but one that ties a burning knot of resolve in his chest. If he works hard, he can be a Psychonaut just like he dreamed. He can save people.
When the alert comes through from Headquarters that Grand Head Zanotto has been captured, Sasha and Milla scramble the jet with Lili on board. They don’t bring Raz along – Ford’s account of his accomplishments is impressive, but without seeing him in action themselves, neither agent is convinced to bring him along on the mission. Sasha invites him to next year’s session of the camp – after all, he clearly has promise, and the Psychonauts are always interested in nurturing young minds.
Raz returns to camp next year with something to prove. He throws himself into his studies with a single-minded dedication, sparing little time to interact with any of the other campers. This time, he’ll show them. He’ll show them all.
Sasha, Milla and Lili are unable to locate Truman in the Rhombus of Ruin. It ultimately takes a week to locate the Grand Head, following an anonymous tip-off (later found to have been planted by Nick). It takes six months for the ruse to be uncovered. Ultimately, Nick is unsuccessful in finding any clues to Maligula’s whereabouts. Lucrecia will pass a few years later, surrounded by a family that has no idea who she really is. Ford never remembers the truth, and when Razputin is fourteen, he takes the secret to his grave.
Truman’s brain spends almost seven months in a box, under poor conditions with insufficient oxygen. When it’s finally returned to his body, he’s not the same man he used to be. He quietly steps down as Grand Head of the organisation, and spends years of his retirement in intensive therapy.
Lili is heartbroken. Her faith in the Psychonauts is shattered. She never returns to Whispering Rock again. Over the years, she becomes more and more withdrawn; isolated from her peers, estranged from her mother, and struggling with her relationship with a father who on bad days can’t even remember her name. The bitterness grows day by day, blooming within her chest.
She’s sixteen the first time she's forced to turn her powers against another person. Even in his current state, her father has enemies – old foes the Psychonauts can’t (or won’t) protect him from. There’s a raid on her house, late at night. It’s only by chance that she’s still awake. She breaks two of the assailants’ bodies, and when she twists her hand, the plants in her father's greenhouse writhe under her command and rip the third one to pieces. It’s the last time that house ever feels like a home to her. She cuts ties with the Psychonauts entirely, and never looks back; the next time they hear of her, it's under a completely different name.
Dogen Boole never returns to Whispering Rock either. He’s thoroughly traumatized by the events at camp, and his parents refuse to send him back the following year. With nobody to help him learn to control or harness his powers, his episodes steadily become worse as he gets older. Although reluctant, his family is eventually forced to reach out to the Psychonauts to help. Compton is still a nervous recluse, and nobody else in the organisation is quite sure how to handle Dogen’s powers. He spends his teenage years in and out of psychoisolation, and is subjected to more and more intense experimentation in the name of “treatment”. Nothing works. In the end, all he has to show for it are the scars.
His helmet is the only thing he can rely on to stop him mulching the cranium of anyone in a fifty-foot radius. There’s no place for him in “normal” society. Just like Lili, he’s driven to become a villain by a combination of circumstances, trauma, and a bitter feeling of hurt and betrayal towards the Psychonauts.
Raz enters the intern program at thirteen, and quickly graduates to the rank of Junior Agent. The Psychonauts he finds waiting for him is undergoing a marked transition from the organization it used to be. Upon Ford’s passing, the only member of the old guard still around is Otto. Hollis is a Grand Head forced to prioritize efficiency in order to keep the Psychonauts afloat after numerous losses and funding cuts.
Raz enters a passionate, determined boy, remarkably talented but who struggles to connect with his peers. When he gets his promotion at eighteen, he’s the most decorated junior agent the organization has ever seen. At twenty-six, he’s in the prime of his career, honed by years of training into an efficient, meticulous, ruthless Psychonaut.
He’s the perfect agent. As far as he’s concerned, that’s all he needs to be.
under-the-cut bonus, here's some tighter crops on the art, and also a couple extra bits and pieces:
dogen's helmet seals up like a pillbug most of the time, to stop his powers from leaking out when he gets stressed. i couldn't find a way to work it into the art while still making clear that Hey It's Ya Boy, but i think it's a neat visual. the extra pic of lili was gonna be a mugshot - at first i was planning to composit her art into, like, a dossier/file, but i couldn't make it work in the end
341 notes
·
View notes
how quickly the glamour fades
“What do you think the Captain does in his down time?” Wally asked, squirting a large amount of cheese whiz onto a cracker and eating it. He was still getting used to being the Flash, being in the Justice League alongside his uncle’s friends. They’d helped him grow as a hero and a person over the years and now he was one of them.
“I don’t know, Cap is always working,” Hal said, taking a bit of his pizza. “The guy never quits I’m telling you. If he’s not here, he’s putting out fires in the jungle or fighting space-magic-tentacle monsters or working with an apron at the soup kitchen. I don’t think he knows the meaning of ‘down time’.”
“We all have to take a break sometimes, even gods,” Wonder Woman said with a raised eye brow. She didn’t technically chastise him but Hal’s shoulder crept up to his ears anyway. “Marvel is the personification of the Gods’ will on Earth. He may not require physical rest I’m sure he must take moments to collect himself but it is, surely, none of our business.”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Wally said hastily. “I’m still new here, trying to figure everything and everyone out with these big shoes to fill.” He cleared his throat and glanced over at the door Captain Marvel had exited out of a few minutes earlier. “I don’t know Marvel well, he was just a reserve member when I first met him and now we’ve moved into big leagues pretty much at the same time. I guess I’m trying to get to know my fellow newbie, he seems like a really nice guy, someone you’d want to talk to outside of work.”
“Yeah good luck with that,” Hal snorted and preemptively winced from the force of Diana’s glare. “What? Look, I love the big cheese as much as the next guy but he’s hard to pin down! He’ll smile and chat up here at the Watchtower no prob but he won’t go out for a drink, he won’t attend any of Bruce’s fancy parties. Barry used to practically beg the guy to come over and have some of Iris’ cooking and he turned him down every time.” A brief moment of silence as Hal coped with the sudden, casual mention of his best friend. “He’s friendly but not sociable.”
“Perhaps he needs time alone, away from all this,” J’onn said, walking in to stand by Diana. Without being asked, she reached into the cabinet and pulled out his favorite cookies. It could have been telepathy or simply years of love and experience. “As you mentioned, he spends much of his time battling the evils of the world, both the grand and the mundane. He may need solitude to cope.”
“Isolation doesn’t heal anything,” Wally grumbled, playing idly with the cheese whiz can. “The Titans taught me that there’s strength in community. I won’t begrudge the man some alone time but,” he sighed and set the can down. “I don’t know, he smiles like Dick does sometimes, when he’s keeping all the hurt inside. I think he could probably use someone to talk to.”
“He’s a god or something, it’s not like we can relate to him,” Hal sighed. “I’m with ya, Kid. I’d be over the moon if Cap ever decided to hang out after the battle was done but he’s just not that kinda guy.”
“Your kindness is appreciated, Wally but Marvel is entitled to his privacy. Should he ever need that listening ear you suggested, he of course knows he can come to us.” Diana smiled. Wally smiled back but still didn’t feel completely settled. There was something about Captain Marvel that never felt right, like he was only seeing a funhouse mirror version. His smiles were too perfect, his lines so cheesy, almost practiced. In a way, he almost didn’t feel real and that the real person was hiding behind this perfect cardboard cut out they all knew.
“Yeah, okay,” he frowned before perking back up. “Did you guys catch the game last nigh-”
“Don’t get me started squirt my team looked like they were sleepwalking, not playing.”
Hundreds of thousands of miles away in Fawcett City, a boy was cold and he was hungry.
“Achoo!” Billy Batson sneezed. “Ugh either someone’s talking ‘bout me or I’m coming down something.” He sniffled, wiping his nose on his threadbare sweater sleeve. “I don’t even know which is worse.”
It had been warm on the Watchtower when Bill, well Marvel, had finally left. The halls had been crowded and there’d been plenty of food and company. It would’ve been nice to stay but that wasn’t the way things worked. Cap didn’t need food to stay full or heat to keep him warm. He enjoyed the conversation but it felt so empty with the large wall he had to keep around his other life. It was safer this way, for him and for them.
The weather was turning cold and the shelters would have stopped giving out food by this late hour. Another night spent shivering and another night without a meal.
“It’s fine, you’re fine,” Billy chattered to himself as he slowly made his way back to the abandoned apartment he’d been sleeping in. “They don’t need to know about this, won’t care about another homeless kid. You’re lucky you get to know them as Marvel, you’re lucky to have Marvel.” He squeezed his eyes shut to fight back tears. It was an honor, a blessing to have the power to help people but oh did it hurt sometimes.
He wished he had someone to talk to about this but all he had was Tawney and the empty throne of the Wizard. There was the League but he couldn’t risk it, Marvel’s good standing was the only way they let him be active without giving away any details. They wouldn’t listen to him anyway, if they knew who their powerhouse really was. The illusion was hard to keep up sometimes but it was all he had.
All the way home, he hummed a tune he’d heard Black Canary humming while doling out portions of pizza and thought of the way Wonder Women’s gentle strong arms had felt around his shoulders and the sound of Lantern’s loud laughter and imagined that he wasn’t alone.
687 notes
·
View notes
EDIT: Also posted on AO3!
--
Peter wakes up late.
Arguably, it’s the weekend. Even then, he’s not someone who sleeps until afternoon. Mainly because someone wakes him for breakfast and to get through the day. And on some weekends, he even has breakfast in bed.
It’s 12 PM when he opens his eyes, hearing no noises out of his room.
Indeed, when he gets out of bed, Peter doesn’t find any signs of life in the Compound. Breakfast is not set. And as far as he’s concerned, no one is in the workshop, for he cannot hear any loud rock music coming from it.
“Um… F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Peter looks at the ceiling. “Where’s Mr. Stark?”
“Boss is currently in a series of meetings. He’ll be back by the evening. He said there’s coffee ready, and food in the fridge to heat up.”
“Oh.”
The boy realizes he’s still wrapped by his blanket, as Peter hugs it close.
“Would you like me to call Boss?” F.R.I.D.A.Y asks.
“No, no, I just wanted to know. Thanks.”
“You can let me know if you need him.”
“It’s okay, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”
She doesn’t insist. The house goes silent again.
He wants her to come back.
But he doesn’t say that.
So, Peter goes on with his day. He eats his cereal and he doesn’t mix the coffee with milk like he usually does. He doesn’t like black coffee like Tony does… but it doesn’t feel wrong this time. Peter tries sending messages to Ned and MJ, but they both have plans for today so they won’t be able to talk much today. Aunt May is out of town, hence why Peter is staying over. She does ask if everything is okay, and Peter reassures her he’s fine. May tells him to count on Tony with anything he needs.
Peter just sends her a smiling emoji.
He decides not to talk to Karen. One, putting his suit in the Compound for no reason other than to chat with someone is weird. Second, she would certainly let Tony know, and his mentor would immediately tell something is wrong.
Peter goes to the workshop. He greets DUM-E. As much as he loves the little bot, DUM-E only beeps and Peter has not yet figured out his language. The arachnid doesn’t have anything to fix on his suit. He asks F.R.I.D.A.Y if Tony needs any help with his projects (his mentor has given him permission to help him out if he wants). But apparently, there isn’t anything to be fixed.
Right. Nothing in the workshop, then.
Peter tries watching TV. He doesn’t really focus. He checks his phone but there aren’t any new messages. His friends are too busy for him. Time is passing very slowly. It’s not even mid afternoon and Tony will take forever to come back.
Finally, he goes back to his room. He needs to get his math homework done, anyway. Peter gets his earphones ready and he starts reading the book, his notebook page blank, waiting for his train of thought.
Except the music is too distracting. Even if he lowers the volume, it doesn’t help. But if he pauses it entirely, Peter’s thoughts are going to scream louder.
His notebook judges him. The words and instructions in his book don’t make sense. Even though Peter re-reads over and over again, they only get more confusing, and he loses more patience, as his head pounds.
Ask for help, a little voice says inside him.
Help for what? Homework?
It’s not just homework.
But it’s not important.
Everyone has better things to do.
Peter growls, breaking his pencil in half with a lot of ease, then dropping the meaningless pieces on the floor. He can’t bring himself to fix it or simply throw in the garbage. It’s just a stupid pencil anyway.
His book is slowly consumed by teardrops.
Countless.
Like it’s raining right in it.
Only Peter is the big storm cloud that can’t make it stop. That can’t do the most basic of things.
He can’t take it anymore.
He sobs. A lot. Loud.
It probably echoes in the penthouse.
People won’t hear it, though.
Peter covers his eyes, now wetting his hands instead of the book. The music is still playing and it’s mocking him. You’re stupid. You’re useless. You can’t do anything right.
He cries for a good couple of minutes. It only grows louder and more painful. Peter doesn’t know why he’s like this. He can handle things alone. He has always handled everything on his own and he never broke down like this. Why is he like this now?
The emptiness around him is engulfing him. It’s empty like his apartment when Uncle Ben died. Peter couldn’t sleep for days when it happened. Mostly because he was distracted trying to save other people’s lives, to prevent another tragedy from happening.
But there’s no one to save.
Peter is trapped.
He can’t do this.
He can’t do this.
He can’t…
…
Someone is knocking on the door.
“Peter?”
Suddenly, he’s back in the bedroom, the book and notebook are just… school objects. They aren’t saying anything.
Peter is too shocked to even open his mouth.
“Peter, I’m coming in.”
Shit. Fuck.
The boy hides himself, turning away from the door, also using his arm to try and pretend the tears aren’t there.
“M-Mr. Stark! I thought- Why”– the teen gulps, unsure what to say that won’t blow his cover. He fears he’s failed anyway –“What’re you doing here?”
“F.R.I.D.A.Y called me, she said you needed me.”
Even though Tony doesn’t sound annoyed in the slightest, Peter only feels pathetic and ashamed of the last three words.
“Y-You didn’t have to come here, Mr. Stark.”
He senses Tony approaching.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” the man patiently requests.
“I don’t know! Something is wrong with- with my brain!” Peter lashes out. He hates himself for that. Despite that, Tony doesn’t get angry. “I tried to distract myself but there was nothing to fix in the lab, TV didn’t help, and not even my stupid homework helps because I’m stupid-!”
“Hey, hey, hey…” Tony is kneeling down next to him. “You’re not stupid. It’s okay.”
Peter cries again with the other’s soft voice. “I can’t do anything, Mr. Stark.”
“That’s okay. You just need a break, kiddo.”
“Yeah, but…”
It’s not just a break that he needs.
“... what’s the point if I’m just gonna be alone?”
Tony gently places a hand on Peter’s arm. The boy finally looks back at him.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.”
“But what about your meetings? They must be more important.”
“You’re more important to me, Pete.”
He knows that, doesn’t he?
Why does it make Peter emotional anyway?
Regardless, Tony throws away the broken pencil for him.
“Come on, buddy,” he calls him, standing on his feet but waiting for Peter to follow him. Actually, he wants Peter to lead the way.
That way, the two end up at the couch. The TV is on and Peter couldn’t care less about what’s airing. Tony grabbed his blanket and wrapped him up in a burrito. Even though he’s wearing an expensive suit, he hugs Peter close and he starts telling him about the meetings today and how boring they were. He also talked shit about some of the people he had to debate with.
For the first time today, Peter smiles, at peace.
Everything is alright now.
61 notes
·
View notes