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#awkward reunions
samasmith23 · 11 months
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The reunion of Nightcrawler, Mystique and Azazel right here has got to be the most awkward family reunion in comic book history since Kaine Parker's team up with Otto Octavius!
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From Amazing X-Men (2013) #6 by Jason Aaron & Cameron Stewart.
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I was inspired
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afterthelambs · 3 months
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This is how Shido's bossfight went down, trust me
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croissantk · 1 year
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Really old sketch I decided to clean up..anyway LOCAL GROUP HUG!!
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madfoxx · 1 year
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they are doing Great
(inspired by this post from @ineffable-romantics​)
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spacedace · 1 year
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Reluctant War AU Part 4
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Everything I know about Flash and the FlashFam (& Flash enemies) comes from fandom and theflashmuseum on tiktok so fair warning on that lol
Sorry if Barry is out of character or things don't line up with canon. Canon is a stranger I think I passed in a crowded room once, I did not ask for its number lol
Anyway, time to touch a bit more on that whole Ancient of the Speedforce Elle thing yeah? Here be a sprinkle more of that and I promise there's more to come haha
Gonna start posting this on Ao3 soon, probably Monday or Tuesday, so heads up I may stop adding these parts here on tumblr once I do
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It lived beneath his skin.
For a long time Barry had never believed in magic. His world was grounded, scientific, made of predictable rules and laws. Tools that could be used to explain everything strange or supernatural away as just another odd twist of the massive universe they all belonged to.
It took perhaps a little longer than it should have to admit that magic was as real as thermodynamics and gravity and atoms. That the world was a great deal stranger than even science - for all its own wildness at times - could account for. There were things that went bump in the night. Hells below and heavens above and things that crawled and clawed their way out from the places in between.
It was almost a little embarrassing how long it had taken him to admit to such things, when considering his relationship with the Speedforce.
A force of the universe. Like gravity or time, pushing and pulling everything along. Something that could be explained with all the familiar scientific concepts that had buoyed him along in life for so long.
Except.
Except.
Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful but felt. Making his hair stand on end, his fingers tingle and numb. Sliding against his veins, bouncing between scar tissue and freckles. Pressing out from the confines of his sternum, rattling against his rib cage as it shifted and moved. Twining around each and every vertebrae. Coiling over and under itself within his skull, darting along the paths of his neurons and nerves. It hummed in every cell in his body. Darted and danced in the space between the atoms that made up his very existence.
The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.
Lived.
Not existed. Not contained. Lived.
He couched it in terms of science, but science - despite his long time refusal to acknowledge it - wasn’t really able to explain the full scope of what he could feel. Not just the power of the Speedforce, but the…the identity of it. The living part that made it’s home in his body, existing in a way that was separate from him. Distant and indistinct most of the time, but…sentient.
He could feel it. Warm and excitable, delighting every time he tapped into it. Pushing him from behind urging him on and on, tugging him forward from ahead beckoning to go, faster, faster. Joyful in his victories, despairing in his loses.
It lived beneath his skin.
Until it didn’t.
He followed its joyful calls, pushed beyond what he should, what he knew was safe. Chasing that welcoming chant of faster, faster until he was there. In the Speedforce. More even, was the Speedforce.
He was everywhere. Beyond everywhere. In every possible everywhere it was possible to be. Every world, every universe, every multiverse.
To enter the Speedforce, to merge with it, was to become part of existence itself.
He couldn’t remember everything about it once he came back. He got flashes, sometimes, quick moments in dreams of places, of moments. What stuck with him most had been the feeling of it all. That had been the hardest part of returning. The sense of terrible loss, of having been surrounded by such a giddy, delighted, devoted love only to be pulled back from the heart of it. Returned to how he had been before, drifting at the edge of it all, it had been painful, agonizing even.
He…adapted, eventually. The sense of it all was still there, just distant. Something he’d come to feel he’d see again, someday.
It had been different, recently.
His powers were the same, he just as fast as ever, but…there was something…off. Changed. A sense that while his speed remained, the Speedforce had become, for lack of a better word, quiet. Distant.
He’d been having dreams, since it started. Not the quick glimpses of his time where he’d merged with the Speedforce. No, instead they were more nightmarish. Not nightmares exactly, though he felt like they should be with what they contained, but something else. Something that felt unnervingly real, left him confused and reeling when he woke with the certainty that when he opened his eyes he’d see the same as what his dreams held.
In the dream, he was in a room.
Cement and metal, hostile and brutalistic in design. He was bound in place, standing upright with feet and hands spread wide and locked in place within strange devices. Gleaming chrome and brilliant green, a painful thrum of energy surging through his body - not the Speedforce, something else, deeply unpleasant pulsing through every cell of his being and freezing him in place more firmly then the restraints did. Projectors hung from the ceiling, displaying images of landscapes, changing every ten second or so.
The sight of them made him nauseous, body shivering and spasming with the burning, agonizing need to go, but at the same time there was something distantly soothed by them too. Like a gnawing hunger abated with water and crumbs. The need for food not gone but the pangs diminished by the false feeling of being full.
In the dream he felt like he was dying.
In the dream he was afraid that maybe he couldn’t.
That he’d be trapped alive in that state forever, watching places he’d never see in person again as he was trapped in one place. His mind spiraling his Core splintering under the weight of it all, scared so scared. He wanted his brother, wanted to see the cement walls explode into dust and debris and see him there, ready to save the day like he had so many times before.
He just had to wait. His brother was looking for him, would have everyone in the Realms looking for him. He just had to hold on.
Barry didn’t have a brother. He only remembered when he woke, heart hammering in his chest fast even by his own standards, mouth tasting of bile and body aching with the need to go.
He hadn’t been sleeping much these days, even before the King of the Dead declared war.
It was having its effects, as sleep deprivation always did. His mind drifting, catching again and again on the dream, attention far away from the world around him. How many times had he been startled by someone calling his name, touching his arm? How many times had they given him a pinched, worried look that told him they’d been trying to reach him for longer than they should have before he noticed.
He was aware, distantly, of the glowering, stern faces around him. The flinty looks of his friends’ and partners’ eyes as they stared at the image of Waller’s scowling mug.
She’d declined an in-person meeting, hunkering down in some bunker somewhere trying to avoid the consequences of her latest atrocities. Or maybe just trying to avoid the very real possibility that one of the members of JL Dark might try to kill her for what she’s caused.
Or JL light, for that matter.
Bruce and Clark had their rules that they lived by, but Diana certainly wouldn’t hesitate to splatter Waller’s brains across the nearest available wall. In reviewing footage of one of the last battles - she’d been at the other one at the time, trying to contend with a ghost in the shape of an ethereal dragon - she’d recognized the spectral figures of Amazons long dead, fierce even in death as they fought with a warrior’s pride along side the rest of Phantom’s armies. They followed a figure that towered even above the Amazons, four arms and gleaming armor and a name that Barry associated with ruin and forgotten hope but who was so much more to Diana. Heroes long departed to the fields of Elysium, stepping out of their well earned rest to fight once more.
A few hadn’t survived the weapons the GIW shot them with. Barry didn’t know what that meant, for a ghost to die. If they simply returned to their afterlife or -
He tried not to think about the or.
They’d been going back and forth for awhile now. Voices faraway, muffled. The world felt as if it was underwater, blurred and cold. Clark had gotten to his feet at some point, Waller’s grip on a pen so tight on the screen he expected to see if burst at any moment. It was an important meeting, an important discussion. One he needed to be apart of, aware of, but it all escaped him. Sand held too tightly, slipping through his fingers. On the screen, Waller hit a button on the computer beside her and the image changed.
The world burned back to life in sharp relief.
The dream.
The room.
Cold cement. Projections of unreachable places on the walls. Chrome and green machinery in a configuration meant to contain.
It looked larger on the screen.
Maybe it was how small the figure held prisoner inside it was.
She was young. A child, no older than Superboy Jr. or Robin. She looked like Phantom - her father - but there were differences. Her hair was white, but it didn’t look like the spun starlight of her father’s. Instead it burned, the bright hot crackling of the plasma of a lighting bolt striking. Skin the blur of shapes caught just at the corner of the eye as you ran past, Eyes -
Looking at him.
The image had come up, a live feed - he knew it was live, knew he was looking at her where she was at that exact moment - and she’d been as he was every time he tried to sleep. Trembling and shuttering, eyes squinting against the pain, trying to stay open so as not to miss a single moment of the flat images imposed on blank cement walls. Desperate to fill the fathomless hunger burning deep down in the Core of her.
But then a shuttering breath and her eyes - the burning green of an afterimage - snapped up to the camera. Snapped up to look at him, recognition in her young face. And despite never having seen this girl before, he recognized her too.
The Speedforce lived beneath his skin.
She lived beneath his skin.
He could feel her there. Buzzing, burning, blistering. Not painful, but felt.
Not as felt as she used to be.
The image snapped back to Waller’s face, smug and self-satisfied. Talking - lying - about the how the girl was there, what the GIW’s intentions for her were. Barry was on his feet, but so was everyone else. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, could only hear static, the rush of wind, the crack of the lightning bolt. A call for help.
It was then that the alarms began to blare. On the screen someone rushed in to whisper into Waller’s ear. Bruce was running out of the room towards the Zeta tubes and Barry was right there with him and there was so much chaos around them, men in white and Gothamites and Ghosts banding together to rain terror down upon them and something massive and horrible and living towering above it all and Barry let go of that last bits of logic and thought.
Instinct, older than he was. The echo of a voice that had called him for years now, carrying him along, biding him forward:
Run.
Someone might have shouted after him as he left Gotham behind. He didn’t know.
All he knew was the pounding of his feet upon the ground, the wind in his face, the Speedforce lashing and frantic and hopeful burning and sizzling beneath his skin. Calling him further and further away until he stood in a vast, empty field staring at a single, rusted shack near ready to collapse before him.
He wasn’t alone.
Wally. Bart. Max. More still. Not just his family and friends. Eobard. Hunter. Thaddeus. Everyone touched by the Speedforce.
They didn’t speak. Bodies humming and thrumming, crackling with energy and intent.
Minds as one, they focused on the shed, the hidden hatch inside, the base hidden deep below.
The Speedforce lived beneath their skin, and no one was going to steal it away from them.
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kurosmind · 2 years
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blorbo!!!!
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caelanglang · 1 year
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Letter to Mackerel… I miss you to the stars and back
continuation of the childhood AU I made :3
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I hope our planets collide again...
continuation here
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an-albino-pinetree · 7 months
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Heartbeat
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another-lost-mc · 20 days
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(Fallen) Angels Round Table Discussion: Fashion
Featuring: A mixed bag of canon and OC angels and some of their fallen brethren.
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"So, honest question - who comes up with these outfit designs?"
GABRIEL: Most angels meet with someone from the tailoring guild and they can request what sorts of clothing they'd like.
SERAPHIEL: Clothing is also a popular gift for angels that pass their ascension trials.
"Does hierarchy or rank have anything to do with the types of clothes angels are allowed to wear?"
SIMEON: Not really. It mostly boils down to preference. Certain styles are more practical than others too. For example, most of the warriors choose not to wear robes on a daily basis. I only wear mine for very special occasions.
METATRON: Michael and Lucifer couldn't be more different style-wise and they were both Seraphs.
MICHAEL: I designed a new outfit for Lucifer that was a little bit more...relaxed...but he wouldn't wear it. Asmodeus even helped with it.
LUCIFER: That’s exactly why I refused. You show enough skin for both of us.
"Now that you mention it, is there a practical reason for designing tight clothes with, um, decorative cut-outs?"
RAPHAEL: It helps us stay cool and prevent heat sickness during our hottest season.
HABUHIAH: Loose clothing isn't comfortable to wear underneath armor.
RAPHAEL: I don't think that's much of a concern anymore.
HABUHIAH: You have more faith than I do when it comes to certain demons.
BELIAL: Are you still upset about our little scuffle in the human world? It's been nearly five-thousand years.
URIEL: You mean the pointless war that you started?
BELIAL: It was actually very profitable.
URIEL: You're the worst.
GABRIEL: Shh, darling. Just pretend he's not here.
BELIAL: That's not very nice, Gabe. You haven't missed me even a teeny-tiny bit?
HABUHIAH: You can't be serious.
METATRON: If we have time later, I'd love to talk to you about your involvement in that skirmish. The official records we have aren't very detailed.
BELIAL: Say no more! I'd be delighted to stay as long as necessary and—
GABRIEL: Absolutely not.
"So, back to the whole why angelic clothing is so revealing thing...?”
SERAPHIEL: Right. Well, from a utility point of view, form-fitted clothes usually work best because you still want to be able to move your body freely without any restrictions. Wearing something flimsy like a cloak is a potential disaster too, at least if you're in a fight.
RAPHAEL: Michael learned that the hard way.
URIEL: The younglings were in the garden and got a firsthand demonstration about combat safety so at least something good came from it.
MICHAEL: You set your cloak on fire by accident one time and your friends never let you forget it.
RAPHAEL: That was an accident? I thought you did it on purpose to get out of training that day.
SIMEON: The point is, a lot of those considerations aren't as important as they used to be. Now we simply wear what we like.
AZRA: Are we going to gloss over the other very important reason? That some of us just wanted to look good?
LUCIFER: Riveting input from our resident incubus.
HABUHIAH: What's that gesture Azazel is making with his hand?
SERAPHIEL: I'm not sure, but judging by Lucifer's expression it's probably not nice.
MICHAEL: Their demonic forms are much more impressive than the photos I've seen on Devilgram.
RAPHAEL: Should we try to stop them?
SIMEON: It's more entertaining if we don't.
METATRON: But I don't want anyone to get hurt.
URIEL: Wait, why is Belial fighting now too?
SERAPHIEL: He's upset that his suit got scorched when one of their wayward spells hit him by accident.
GABRIEL: I hope you're pleased with yourself since this was all your idea, Michael. But I have to admit, I expected much worse.
MICHAEL: See, I told you not to worry. It's just like old times!
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A/N: Here's something silly that helped distract me from real life stuff that's kept me busy lately. This vaguely incorporates some Celestial Realm headcanons/worldbuilding, and to be honest, I just wanted to throw these characters into a room and see what happened. (Chaos. Chaos happened.)
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samasmith23 · 11 months
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This has got to be the most awkward family reunion ever considering what happened the last time Kaine met Otto Octavius (before the latter became the Superior Spider-Man)...
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Ironically, Kaine was actually more morally superior character this time around considering how disgusted he was by Otto’s willingness to go over the edge on criminals (Kaine didn’t know about the body-swap), Kaine acknowledged that he wasn’t a hero, but believed Peter was.
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From Superior Spider-Man Team-Up #2 & Scarlet Spider (2012) #20 by Christopher Yost, Erik Burnham & Marco Checchetto, Pat Olliffe & In-Hyuk Lee, and Spectacular Spider-Man (1974) #221 by Tom DeFalco & Sal Buscema.
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mightypieworkshop · 11 months
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A silly doodle born in the ETFC ahead of the M9 live show! Look at this little bean, he’s clearly got the good business sense.
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citrenecult · 2 years
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Found the Narinder pencil on procreate and put it to good use :D
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ndostairlyrium · 4 months
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I'm curious
Which characters do you want to see a cameo of in Veilguard?
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incorrect-fnaf-quotes · 3 months
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AU’s centered around The Missing Children are always fun to see, and like... a couple of months ago, I just got to thinking—and came up with a Bonnie/Jeremy AU.
The location was basically closed and abandoned, but a few things never happened—like the animatronics getting destroyed, or William’s springlocking after that.
Bonnie doesn’t remember... a lot. He doesn’t remember having been a human—he doesn’t remember his name or his parents, and he doesn’t remember the encounter with The Yellow Rabbit that caused anything.
Eventually, he’s able to start wandering from the pizzeria and all around, before curiously entering a house—one that just so happens to contain his family.
Shenanigan time.
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cienie-isengardu · 1 month
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This is probably just me and my weird sense of humor, but Netherrealm Studio did really miss the great opportunity to make the most accidental wedding crash in the history of Mortal Kombat.
Instead of the deliberate attack on Kuai Liang & Harumi’s wedding, we could have Lin Kuei attacking Liu Kang’s place to either hurt/kill Fire Lord or steal Whatever Important Stuff There Was Hidden, having no clue Shirai Ryu clan and Liu Kang’s Champions gathered there for the marriage ceremony. Just imagine the potential of an awkward family reunion when Sub-Zero is not even there to mess with his brothers.  Not to mention the whole subplot from intro dialogues in which Kuai Liang searched for his brother to no avail, only to bump into him by total accident. With Bi-Han being like that is not my fault you couldn’t get married somewhere else and picked the worst time of all possible. Because of course, that is Kuai Liang’s luck 🤣🤣
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