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#continuation of the story
polygonal-trees · 28 days
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Transformers One isn't changing the established lore y'all because there is no established lore
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nerdpoe · 4 months
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Constantine makes a deal with the Spirit of Kronos.
In return for all contracts he has made regarding his soul being voided, and for Kronos himself to be John's Patron, he has to take a ghost core into himself and nurture it until it's independent.
Easy.
Infinite Realms beings are fiercely independent, and he estimates that one year of hosting and three months of looking after is nothing compared to the headache that he was going to have to go through to get those contracts voided.
The Spirit of Kronos assures him that this task will be on par, and that the payment for doing this is actually equal. He'll have to be sober, not a single drop of liquor or booze, not a single cigarette, for the entire duration.
Which. Okay, yeah, that sounds a little difficult.
So John accepts, expecting this to be kinda hard. But it's not.
The Core he houses is barely noticeable. Barely there. It takes a lot of magic, and eats a lot of ecto, and he's starting to realize that this core may have been severely damaged. This may be more than a year of hosting.
Then it starts to effect him.
He gets cravings, he's a little more emotional due to Realms Spirits being based on emotions, he sleeps more because of the little core leeching off of his magic reserves.
Other heroes start to notice.
He starts getting left out of missions, JLD and JL both checking in on him periodically. They don't know, but they know something is up.
Then he feels it one and a half years after accepting the deal; the tiny core is finally ready to come into the world. Soon, so soon, he'll be able to drink and smoke again, worry free.
The tiny ghost materializes in front of him - and John lunges forward to catch it before it falls to the floor.
Because that's not a ghost.
That's a human baby.
A green sticky note pops onto the kids forehead, and John realizes he may have just been bamboozled.
'His name is Daniel, and the deal stands until he is legally able to be independent per American Law. I look forward to our partnership.
CW'
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ellonemu · 1 year
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most inaccurate thing about minecraft story mode is that no one looked like this
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makerofmadness · 11 months
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THE BALLOON BOY IS REAL HE IS ALIVE AND WELL
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kurozu501 · 28 days
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genuinely how do you fumble something like yuri on ice. the show was so popular all over the world. tons of actual ice skaters were talking about it, iirc one professional ice skater even did a routine to a yoi song, it was wild. all they had to do was lean into it, make the movie and then a season 2. and instead they announce the movie, go radio silent for years before limply trotting out a "oh btw the movie's cancelled" today. just pathetic.
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thevoidstaredback · 1 month
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Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant
Listen. It was an accident. He didn't mean to! It just kinda happened.
So maybe he brought a drink with enough caffeine in it to kill an elephant within a few minutes, and maybe he forgot to put the sleeve on his cup so he could tell it apart from the others, but it's not his fault! He didn't think anyone else was going to have the exact same Yeti cup as him! It's not like he'd seen any of the others carry one before. Besides, he worked with superheros. They should be smart enough to check before drinking someone else's drink.
Danny had been summoned by the Justice League Dark a few years back in order to help with a world ending crisis and he just didn't leave. It's not like he could go anywhere anyway. His ghost half hadn't grown past fourteen and his human half had stopped visibly aging at eighteen. He'd had to leave town as Danny Fenton, but he'd stayed in Amity Park as Danny Phantom. When his parents died of old age, thank god, he'd closed down the portal, stuck around for a few more years, before traveling the world as Danny Fenton.
Anyway, he'd taken up residence in the House of Mysteries after the JLD had summoned him. Constantine, at first, had been wary, but he and the rest of the JLD had grown to accept him. He was an honorary member of the team.
At some point, just after Robin had become Red Robin, Danny had been introduced to the Justice League. He liked those guys, too, and worked with them sometimes. Though, he usually only went to bug them.
Red Robin had been very interested in the fact that his was fourteen and working with grown heros, like he was one to talk, but Danny hadn't explained anything other than saying that he had died and come back. The following conversation was an interesting one that lead to Danny knowing that Nightwing was the Batman he'd met and that Batman was lost somewhere. He'd confirmed that the man was not dead, but he hadn't offered to help look for him. He probably should have, in retrospect.
Back on topic! Everyone in the JLD knew not to touch Danny's drink. They'd all seen him make it before and had been horrified on varying degrees. It's not like it could kill him. He's already half dead! So long as he only drank this specific brew as Phantom, he'd be fine.
The Justice League, apparently, didn't get the memo. He blames Constantine because Zatanna and Raven can do no wrong. No, John, he's not biased.
The point is, Red Robin just had a sip of Danny's drink. The horror he now felt was akin to the fear he held when he'd told his parents he was Phantom. (An interaction that had gone very well, thank you very much.)
Danny knew the exact moment that the vigilante realized he grabbed the wrong drink. His eyes widened to an astonishing degree, and, if he'd been able to seen his eyes behind the mask, Danny knew that the man's pupils would've completely overtaken the irises. His hands started shaking, too. Oh, no. The man's already addicted to hellish amounts of coffee. This is only going to make it worse!
Quickly, and without drawing any attention, thank the Ancients, Danny rushed over. "You, um, you okay, man?" Obviously not, but he tends to talk when he's anxious and he was certainly anxious right now. He could've possibly just killed a man via poison!
"What the fuck is in this coffee?" Red Robin asked, going to take another sip.
Danny pulled the Yeti from his hand and gave him the proper one. "Enough caffeine to kill an elephant."
"Obviously not, seeing as I'm still alive."
"Yeah, I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."
"Excuse me?"
"I-I mean-! I didn't-! You know what I mean." Caffeine is poisonous in excess, and his drink was way beyond excess, but it's the only thing that works for him as a ghost! Superpowered metabolism and all that.
"Do I?" The laugh in his voice answered for him. He took a sip from his drink and frowned at it. "I don't think any coffee will ever be enough again."
"And that's my cue to get my drink very far away from you." Danny turned, fully intent on moving to the other side of the room. Besides, the meeting was going to start as soon as the Flash and Kid Flash arrived, which would be soon. Something about one of their Rouges getting out?
"What?" Red Robin asked, "Why?" If he was a little desperate to get another sip of that coffee, he'd rather not acknowledge it.
"Because you don't need anymore lethal coffee," he muttered, "The sip you took will already keep you awake for three days at least, and it probably jump started an addiction. Best to stop it now. Besides, I need to go have my crisis on how the hell you're still alive after even a sip of this stuff."
"Again, rude." The bird themed vigilante crossed his arms as best he could while holding his cup. "If it's so dangerous, why do you drink it?"
Danny took a deliberate sip as he locked eyes with the technically younger man. "I'm dead. I don't need to worry about my heart stopping or having a seizure."
"Excuses."
"No, it's not 'excuses'. I'm saving your life."
"You're a kid. If I can't have that coffee, then you shouldn't be having it."
"First, I'm older than you. Second, I already told you: I'm dead. This isn't going to hurt me. Third, you can't tell me what to do."
"There's no way you're older than me. You're like, ten."
"I'm thirty-eight!" He balked, "I only look fourteen because I died when I was fourteen. We've been over this."
Neither noticed the entire Justice League looking at them. The two they were waiting on had arrived a few minutes ago and everyone was ready to start the meeting, but they'd been distracted by the two's conversation. Was that true? Had Phantom really died so young? They'd all been made aware he was not living, but they didn't think he'd died so young! Though, that was probably the denial speaking.
The Justice League Dark had been fully aware of this and didn't really bat an eye. Though, someone should probably get this meeting started. A potentially world ending threat was the topic, and that was a pretty important thing to discuss.
Captain Marvel was the first to pull himself together, though that was only after Atlas and Zeus had mentally slapped him out of his stupur. "As, ah, riveting as this conversation is," he stepped between the two boys- er, boy and man? "we really need to start this meeting."
Batman did not clear his throat because he'd not lost his voice in the first place. "He's right. Everyone take your seats."
Storyboard Part 2
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egophiliac · 3 months
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CROWLEY SSR THOUGHTS
there is zero basis for this, but I can't get this thought of my head
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I don't know why I decided to draw it this way
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#(these will be relevant in a moment)#this isn't going to happen. but WHAT IF.#anyway i didn't get him (damnit birdman come home) so i had to look up his story#and let me tell you friends my findings were SHOCKING#crowley canonically likes vegetables which means that the crowley is revaan theory = BUSTED#crowley is sailor venus = CONFIRMED#(i know 'whip of love' is a saying but that's where my mind always goes)#DISCLAIMER: this is (mostly) a joke please continue to hold whatever theories and headcanons you want#but look. c'mon. look over here at this whiteboard i've covered in red yarn.#revaan being a picky eater has come up multiple times and there is an entire whole bit about how much he hated jerky and refused to eat it#and now they've made a point of talking about how crowley will eat almost anything and loOoOoves wild game meat especially#it's SO stupid but i can't help but read way too much into it#(this is tumblr if you don't want to see incredibly stupid overanalysis of anime guys then why are you HERE)#and i gotta hold on to something because otherwise whenever malleus and crowley are onscreen together i just keep going 'same hair color...#unless this is like. some kind of deep cover thing.#lilia doesn't recognize him because he saw him eat a green bean once and revaan would NEVER#crowley's secret is safe for another day#(serious hat on: i do think they're probably connected in some way)#(but there's something deeper going on that we're just not clued into yet that will hopefully explain things)#man forget revaan what if crowley whips off his mask and it turns out he was meleanor this whole time#wait hold on meleanor loves jerky. IT ALL FITS...
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keferon · 4 months
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………..OKAY listen I know this looks and sounds a bit weird but..like…just imagine ummm fantasy and medieval aesthetic but with robots? And like…there’s some kingdoms and wars….and knights, who’s supposed to fight evil.
And robo-demons and robo-dragons and robo-magic. You got the idea.
And in all this - Blurr is a knight who loves messing with questionable magic so one day he summons a demon. I mean. On purpose. To serve him and help him fight and stuff. He’s pretty good at forbidden dark magic and knows all he need to know to control this demon.
The thing he doesn’t know though - the creature he summoned was once a knight too. And much much more knowledgeable in dark magic than him~
Next ->
Tasty art
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jamisonrivv · 5 months
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waiting for medic
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steddiehyperfixation · 6 months
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don't you forget about me (steddie fic)
saw this post and was inspired to write something angsty <3
The first thing Eddie is aware of when he wakes up, before he even opens his eyes, is the dull, aching pain throbbing through pretty much his entire body. The second thing he’s aware of is that someone is holding his hand. 
“Eddie?” The hand in his tightens its grip as Eddie begins to stir; the voice it presumably belongs to sounds immeasurably relieved, yet only vaguely familiar. 
Eddie groans. His eyelids flutter, blinking awake, and he groggily rolls his head to the side to get a look at whoever had spoken. 
The voice sighs again, “Oh thank god-” 
“Harrington?” Eddie’s eyes fly open wide now as they land on the mystery man sitting beside him on the edge of the bed - a man he most definitely is not close enough with to be holding his hand, and a bed that is most definitely not his own. He snatches his hand away. “What the hell are you doing? Where am I?”
“Ed-” Another man’s voice, this one just as relieved and infinitely more familiar. It fills Eddie with relief too as he looks to his other side to find his uncle Wayne rising from a nearby chair to come up next to him. 
“Wayne, what-?” His surroundings are becoming more clear. “What happened? Why am I in a hospital? And why the fuck is King Steve at my bedside?” Eddie tries to sit up only to gasp and wince in pain as the dull ache in his sides sharpens to near agony at the movement. 
“Take it easy, son.” Wayne’s hand lands on his shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back down onto the pillows. “You were hurt real bad.” 
“Yeah, I got that,” Eddie grumbles out. He sucks in a deep, intentional breath and exhales slowly, the pain beginning to dull again now that he’s settled. His questions are still largely unanswered, though. Blank mind reaching desperately for any logical piece to this bizarre puzzle, he turns an accusing glare to Harrington. “Did you land me in here? Is that why you’re here, some sort of weird guilt thing?” 
Harrington’s looking at him like a kicked puppy. “What? No, I-” he falters, takes a shaky breath and swallows painfully like he’s trying not to cry. “You don’t remember?” 
“I don’t remember what? Will someone just tell me what happened?” Eddie’s confusion is rising more and more into agitation with every second he remains without an explanation. 
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Harrington asks quietly.
“I was driving home from school, just found out I wasn’t gonna graduate again.” Eddie frowns as he thinks back, still trying to put pieces together. “Did I crash my car? Is that it? I was emotional and not paying attention and got into an accident?” 
Yet again, he receives no answers. 
“Eddie, what month is it?” Wayne asks instead, his tone dangerously measured and serious. “What year?” 
“May…” Eddie says warily, “1985.”
His words hold a weight he doesn’t understand, landing heavy on the others in the room and thickening the air. It sends a chill of dread down his spine, the way his answer etches concern deep into the lines of Wayne’s face, the way Steve Harrington seems to take it like a blow to the chest. 
Harrington exhales sharply as if he’s been punched, standing abruptly and taking a few stumbling steps back. Wayne says, “It’s April of ‘86, Ed.”
Eddie’s blood runs cold. “No. No, it can’t be.” 
“I’m gonna go tell the nurse you’re awake,” Harrington mumbles, his voice strained and his eyes glassy with barely held-back tears. 
“I’ll go,” Wayne offers, pushing himself away from Eddie’s bed. He gives Harrington a meaningful look, though what that meaning is, Eddie can’t decipher. 
Harrington turns his devastated gaze to the older man. “But, Wayne, he doesn’t-” 
“I know, kid.” Wayne gives a sad smile and places a sympathetic hand on Harrington’s shoulder as he passes by. “Just talk to him.” 
Eddie is thrown off by this familiarity between them. Since when were those two close? He feels like he’s entered some sort of parallel universe where everything is just ever so slightly wrong. It leaves an itch beneath his skin, uncomfortable and out of place, like he no longer quite fits in his own body, in his own life. He’s lost 11 months, apparently, and this world is no longer his; he doesn’t know where he fits into it anymore. 
Wayne leaves the room, and Eddie wants to protest: Don’t leave me here with this guy I don’t know in this time I don’t know, please, you’re the only thing that feels safe and familiar! Anxiety is crawling through him like a thousand tiny bugs in his veins. He wants to scream, he wants to cry, he wants to run. Anything to shake this feeling loose. But he’s confined to this bed, trapped both by his pain and by all these machines he’s hooked up to, and he sure as shit isn’t going to have a breakdown in front of Steve goddamn Harrington. 
Instead, Eddie resigns himself to this situation and casts a sideways glance at Harrington who very much looks like he’s also trying not to have a breakdown. “I’m freaking out, man,” Eddie says finally, hating how shaky and pathetic his voice sounds. “I swear to god, Harrington, if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on…” 
Harrington worries his lip between his teeth as he hesitates. “It’s a lot to explain.” 
“Yeah, I bet,” Eddie scoffs out a humorless laugh. “I’m missing nearly an entire year, of course it’s a lot to fill in. Unless I’ve been here this whole time?” 
“No.” Harrington shakes his head. “No, you’ve only been here about a week. I- I don’t know why you’re missing so much time, the whole Vecna thing only started like a week before that-” 
“Vecna?” Eddie interrupts to question. “What does any of this have to do with the D&D campaign I was planning? And, also, how the fuck do you know about that?” 
Harrington closes his eyes for a second and takes a breath, like having this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to do. “I’m not talking about D&D, Ed. Vecna was a real-life monster from a real-life alternate dimension we called the Upside-Down. The kids only called him Vecna because we didn’t know who he was at the time and he, like, cursed people before he killed them, but he was actually Henry Creel, which is a whole other fucked up story.”
“Okay…” Eddie doesn’t know who ‘the kids’ are and he’s skeptical of the way Harrington talks so factually about monsters and dimensions and curses existing in the real world, but he does remember his uncle telling him stories about the demonic tragedy of the Creel family, which is the only thing that makes any of this even halfway believable. It still doesn’t explain how Eddie wound up in the hospital with his entire body feeling like it’d been run through a blender, though, or why the former king of Hawkin’s High was hovering over his sickbed. He gestures for Harrington to continue. 
“I never wanted you to get involved in all this Upside-Down shit,” Harrington’s voice breaks. He steps closer to Eddie’s bed again, and he looks so so sad as he stares down at him that it makes Eddie’s own heart ache, just a little bit. Harrington’s hand twitches at his side as if he means to reach out for Eddie but then thinks better of it, running the hand through his hair instead as he continues, “I tried to keep you from it for so long, I really did, but then Vecna killed Chrissy in your trailer and the whole town blamed you and you were just a part of things then, there was no getting around it. You helped us fight him - Vecna. You kept his army of bats off our ass while we weakened his body and El weakened his mind. If it weren’t for you we never would’ve defeated him and we certainly wouldn’t have all made it out alive.” Harrington’s gaze softens, as does his voice, his next words almost a whisper, “You were a hero, Eddie.” 
“That doesn’t sound like me,” Eddie says, like that’s the least plausible part of Harrington’s story. And, really, it is. He can wrap his mind around a lot of things: a murder in his trailer - sure, Forest Hills always was a shady place; the whole town accusing him of being a killer - yeah, of course, that tracks; even an evil wizard from another dimension with an army of bats - fine, okay, why the hell not. But Eddie Munson is no hero, and he’s definitely not any sort of fighter either.
“No, you never did think so, did you?” Harrington mutters with a sad sort of fondness and the barest trace of a wistful smile. “But it’s true. Dustin was in danger and you didn’t even think twice. You ran right into the fray without a second thought, sacrificed yourself so that the rest of us might survive. Those bats nearly killed you, b-” he breaks, choking on whatever word he was going to say. His eyes swim with yet more unshed tears. “I almost thought they had killed you, you know. I thought you were dead when I carried you out of the Upside-Down,” he admits shakily, choked up and barely managed, “and even when I brought you here and you were stable, I was still so scared you wouldn’t wake up…” 
Eddie doesn’t know how to react to any of that information or to such a display of emotion. His own hands twitch now with the urge to reach out and comfort him, but he too denies that instinct. He tries for humor instead, something lighter, cracking a grin and teasing, “Aw, Stevie, I didn’t know you cared.” 
Harrington makes a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “Oh, Ed, you have no idea.” 
“We were friends then, weren’t we?” Eddie guesses now, carefully. It’s rapidly becoming the only possible explanation for the guy’s behavior around him. “Before all the Vecna stuff?”
“Yeah,” Harrington manages, forcing a small, sad smile as his eyes finally overflow and streak his cheeks with tears. “Yeah, we were good friends.” 
~
Wayne reenters the room then with a nurse in tow, and Steve quickly turns away and rubs his hands over his face. He needs to pull himself together; he can’t break down right now, not yet, not here. 
He listens, distantly, as the nurse asks Eddie a bunch of questions and then tells the rest of them that she needs to take him in for some tests to determine the cause and prognosis of Eddie’s amnesia. He watches, numbly, as she wheels Eddie’s entire bed out of the room. 
Steve can barely hear, barely see, his emotion clouding his eyes and roaring in his ears. He stares blankly through the open doorway and struggles to swallow down the ever-rising lump in his throat. 
Wayne’s voice rumbles from somewhere beside him, but he can’t quite make out the words. “What?” 
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” Wayne says, the sound reaching Steve’s ears a little clearer now. “I asked if you were alright.” 
Steve shakes his head. His voice comes out coarse and raw, “‘Course I’m not alright.” 
“Right, ‘course you’re not,” Wayne echoes. He follows Steve’s mournful gaze to the door Eddie had disappeared through. “What did you tell him?” 
“Told him he was a hero,” Steve croaks, “...and that we were good friends.”
“Ah…” Steve’s vision is so blurred behind a thick layer of tears he can’t see the sympathetic frown on the old man’s face, but he knows it’s there. “At least he’s alive, kid,” Wayne tries to be comforting. “You can always start over.” 
“Yeah, I know, but I don’t- I don’t want to start over, I just want-” Steve chokes back a sob. He just wants Eddie.
It’s a horrible thought, but Steve almost thinks that this just might be worse than if Eddie really had died… Because how is Steve supposed to handle the fact that his boyfriend of 9 months no longer knows him? How is he supposed to cope now that the love of his life looks right at him and no longer sees him?
He closes his eyes, presses the heels of his palms into his eyelids, inhaling a shaky breath and exhaling an even shakier sigh. Steve whispers, “It feels like I’m losing him all over again.” 
(part two is here!)
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Dp x Dc Crossover
Danny and Ellie somehow get tangled with Cadmus and frozen for study later. Obviously it comes to the JL’s attention and they all go ‘oh no another clone’. Anyone’s choice of who they think it is or if it’s a collection of people they took DNA from and meshed together to make these two sassy children.
Would be funnier if they came to DC universe by accident and didn’t have time to really learn about it before capture. The result being they have no idea superheroes are a thing and the heroes just thinking ‘these kids were traumatized and held captive, they don’t even know who Superman is!’ and cue another layer of hilarious misunderstanding.
When confronted about the whole clone thing, Danny immediately defends and protects Ellie. Obviously. Then they notice he was not defending himself, to which Danny goes ‘I’m not a clone!’ The heroes look at each other in clear doubt. ‘Oh he was in denial or seriously didn’t know who he was made from. That will make this harder.’
I may have started something though…
They found a discrete laboratory hidden in plan sight, underneath an office building. When researched, they found connections to Cabmus.
Considering the last encounter they had with the organization, they wanted to be prepared. Hence why when the small team noticed Batman walking down the stairs, Superman followed behind with a tight expression.
“Report.”
Red Robin stepped forward.
“Two cryo-stasis containers holding two nearly identical people. The first a male, approximately 13-14 years of age. Stable. The second a female, younger, approximately 10-11 years of age. Also stable, but her stats are lower than the boy’s.”
“What do you know?”
“Virtually nothing,” Connor says casually. “There are no documents left behind, digital or physical, and there are zero labels on these things.”
They arrive toward the back of the basement where the two frozen containers were sitting upright. One unit obviously smaller than the other most likely holding the girl. Batman has to peer down into the larger unit to see the boy’s face. Frost collected on his eyelashes and black hair like a forgotten doll. No movement from either forms, not even breathing.
“So we don’t know who they are made from,” Superman pushes, clearly displeased.
Batman keeps looking at their faces. The curve of their noses, the shape of their jaws, the positioning of their cheekbones. They didn’t look like Connor. No, they reminded him of someone else.
“We suspect hybrids of some sort,” M’gann contributes. “A mixture of different heroes if I had to guess, but there is no way of knowing with our lack of information without waking them up.”
“Can’t you look into their minds?” Clark questions.
M’gann squirms at the directness and Connor steps forward to defend her. Tensions rise.
“No, sir. They are frozen so there is hardly any brain function except to keep them alive. They aren’t even dreaming.”
She looks them over sadly, obviously distraught with not being able to connect to their minds in anyway.
Batman turns to Red Robin, the younger already watching him.
“You see it too, right?”
Batman grunts. Yes, he saw it.
“Is there a way to move them?” Batman brings back the focus.
“The containers are connected to the buildings power and then a back-up generator in case of emergencies. We’d have to switch the power to something mobile and there’s no telling what kind of effect that would have on the kids,” Connor explains, against the idea of moving them.
“It’s six in the evening. Most everyone in the building above as gone home for the day,” Red Robin helpfully adds.
“Evacuate the rest. Then call a medical team.”
“Wait,” Superman interrupts as the three younger heroes jump to do as instructed. “You’re not thinking about waking them up now, are you?”
“You have a better idea?”
Batman doesn’t even look at him as he studies the stats on the old screen connected to the nearest pod. This one holding the boy. He’ll be the first one out seeing as he’s the more stable one.
“They could be dangerous. They could try to attack us.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Batman deadpans. He didn’t state the obvious that they were children who had been frozen for who knows how long. If anything they’ll need reassurance that they were safe, not weapons in their faces as soon as they wake up.
Clark was not happy with his decision, but as long as he didn’t antagonize them Bruce left him alone.
It wasn’t long before they were ready to begin. Three medical personnel stood several yards back behind the heroes. Red Robin begins the defrosting procedure and they have to wait maybe an hour before the door slides open. There is a breath among them as they wait for his eyes to open. Instead they hear a cracking of thin ice and the boy falls forward without the door holding him in place. Connor is the one to catch him before he hits the floor face first.
Superboy turns him to lay him flat on the floor, the boy’s body still stiff with cold. Frost makes his hair and eyelashes brittle. His lips are a faint shade of blue.
“He isn’t breathing,” Connor informs quickly.
One of the medics push forward first, oxygen mask in hand.
“Bring the thermal blankets. We need to get his core temperature up,” the woman urgently instructs.
They get to work quickly in warming up the boy who is too small and fragile. After several minutes of the medics squeezing air into his mouth and rubbing his limbs and chest to get the blood flowing, the boy takes a breath. Then another. He coughs roughly, his throat scratchy, and starts to shiver.
“There we go.”
He whimpers and tries to move his hand, but the action is jerky and unpracticed.
“His eyes,” M’gann informs them, finally able to get some brain activity. “He can’t open his eyes. The ice-“
Connor takes a water bottle the medics brought and poured the room temperature water over his eyes to melt the ice holding them together. The boy jumps in surprise and tries to turn his head away but Connor continues until he can manually wipe away the ice and water from his eyelids.
Blue eyes. The boy has bright sky blue eyes. They aren’t the Krytonian blue, but they were still familiar.
He blinks and squints and looks around, breathing picking up at the people surrounding him and the unfamiliar environment. M’gann, sensing his distress, kneels down and sets a warm hand on his leg.
“It’s okay. No one here will hurt you. You’re safe now.”
He doesn’t relax, but he seems to at least understand her. He studies their uniforms and then her face before his eyes flick to something behind her and they widen. His breath stutters in his chest, making him wheeze out on the exhale.
They look behind the green skinned girl to see the smaller pod still holding the little girl, no change in her status.
The boy reaches out a shaky hand toward it, scraping against the cold concrete in his lack of energy to lift it.
“She’s okay too.”
He opens his mouth to speak, licks his lips, tries again.
“-ou-,” he rasps. His breath hitches and he’s coughing again. They help him onto his side.
“You want us to get her out?” Red Robin interprets.
The boy squints through the tears from the lack of oxygen at the hero. His expression is scrunched in discomfort and worry. As enthusiastic as he can manage, the boy nods.
“Okay, we can do that. You just have to wait, she needs to thaw out, just like what we did with you,” Red Robin explains to the boy.
He nods again in understanding, his eyes glued back to the girl in the pod. He still shivers harshly and his breathing isn’t regular but he’s not panicking and in no shape to attack them, so it seems like they were in the clear with that one.
While the girl is thawing, they get him more comfortable with warm blankets and get him to drink some water for his throat. He still wasn’t moving much except to curl up on his side and breathe on his colorless fingers. Every time he swallowed he cringed like he was drinking acid, so talking was off the table for now.
The boy was fighting sleep by the time the container door slide open. Connor was there and holding her before she could fall like the boy had.
Superboy lays the girl down close to the boy, seeing the pale hand reaching for her. As soon as he backed away the medics were on her to get air in her lungs and warm her body same as they did for the boy.
The boy watches, quietly holding her hand. Siblings it looks like it. Seeing them side by side was startling. They seemed to be clones of each other, one just younger and the opposite gender, but they were the same.
It was concerning as the number of minutes increased and there was no change. She didn’t breathe or move. She looked dead.
“Get the defibrillator,” the medic ordered, urgent.
The boy surprisingly wasn’t panicking, instead he held a hard determination that made some of the heroes curious.
Pushing himself up onto his elbow, he leaned over the girl and started weakly pushing the blankets out of the way. Thinking he was just helping to make the medic’s job easier, M’gann helped until her torso was exposed.
“You need to back away so they-“
She stops when she sees him tug at the girl’s white shirt to get into direct contact with her skin, hand pressed to her chest.
“What are you-?”
He narrows his eyes in concentration.
Red Robin unconsciously takes a step back when the boy’s blue eyes change into a glowing toxic green, illuminating the girl’s face, frost shining in the light. The hand pressed to her chest also starts to glow the same green until it seeps into her skin like she’s absorbing this weird energy. It reminded them of Starfire actually.
The green in his eyes fades as soon as the unknown green energy is lighting up her entire torso just under the skin. He pulls away and looks expectantly at the medic holding the defibrillator. She flinches into moving, setting the machine down and charging it. She’s hesitant to touch the green energy but the boy nods in encouragement, not looking concerned for anything but the girl’s health.
“Clear!”
It takes one shock for the green energy to disperse through her body and cause her to gasp. The girl starts coughing harshly and the boy pulls her to lay on her side facing him. Connor quickly helps the boy to cover her in blankets. The boy goes as far as tucking them around her and taking one of his own blankets to pile on top. He was moving more easily now even if it was sluggish.
M’gann gasps quietly just as the girl starts sobbing, whining when the act of crying hurt her throat. The boy pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her and tucking her under his chin so they could barely see her. They watch as he calmly comforts her until they are both eased into unconsciousness.
Batman give Superman a pointed look as he passes him. Clark doesn’t respond.
“Get them to the Watchtower med bay,” he orders.
It’s Superman who picks up the pile of two children tangled together and wrapped in layers of fabric, nearly throwing them at how light they both weighted. The three younger heroes follow behind, Tim mumbling about “Lazarus pits” and “Jason”, M’gann twisting her fingers in anxiety, and Connor keeping a close eye on the two kids being carried by his original.
It’s unsurprising that it’s Connor who volunteers to say with them when they are settled down in the med bay, still clinging to each other in sleep.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 2 months
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Alas, this beautiful dream could not last.
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ryllen · 7 months
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overblot grim with Yuu who accidentally get carried on his back
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narwhalsarefalling · 2 months
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i love it when botanists fight in the annotations
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guy in 1939, taking his time to line up his typewriter to painstakingly write the family name: its equisetum hyemale!
guy in 1948 scribbling on a slip of paper: no dumbass its equisetum prealtium
guy in 2020 on a sticky note: hey fuckass! its equisetum hyemale, are you smoking crack? are you on fucking crack? update annotation.
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m340700 · 11 days
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wip
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egophiliac · 7 months
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"IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A JOKE" As someone who's been playing TWST since march and stopped going out of my way to be spoilerfree after I got stuck at Overblott!Jamil? That's honestly been one of my favorite things about it - seeing something in fanart or a comment you think is just fans joking, only for it to be canon. "The economy!", "May I also throw a tantrum?", Malleus' gargoyle thing, and... everything about Rook being my top examples.
there's a whole bit in Trey's platinum birthday card where he goes on about how he became increasingly obsessed with mustard for like a week straight until the other students held an intervention. how are you supposed to talk about this. how can you bring up something like Trey's descent into mustard obsession to the point that the other characters are worried for him without it sounding like the most obvious lolrandom "he mentioned it once and now fandom acts like he puts mustard in everything" joke. also, how can I slip this into every Twst post from now on, because I need everyone in the world to know that this is a real canon fact about Trey "I'm just an average normal guy (who sticks my hands into people's mouths and owns 20 toothbrushes and used to eat flowers off the side of the road)" Clover.
for bonus points, 1) the punchline is that he still doesn't even like mustard that much, 2) he's saying all of this to Leona, and 3) Leona is actually kind of invested in Trey's mustard story for some reason, which is the most unbelievable part of all of this to be honest. (then Trey gets distracted by a painting of the Cheshire Cat and Leona takes the opportunity to powerwalk away to freedom before they can start talking about dijon versus spicy brown or whatever and extend this bit even longer)
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