power-coat

I will teach my future daughter that her body is a white rose.
No matter how many muddied hands may touch her, her petals will remain of ivory and purity.
Though she is a flower, she is anything be delicate.
She may be plucked for her beauty but she will survive for her strength.
I will teach her that she is a woman made of thunder,
There will be people who will set out to silence her booming existence.
I will tell her “do not let them dull the whirlwind that you are,
let them fuel the hurricane that you will grow to be.
You are a mighty tree, though they may cut you down, your roots run far too deep.
Your mighty body is a fortress of sovereignty, unconquerable by any man.
May you speak with a voice coated with power and dipped in strength.
May you never be silenced by smalls minds,
Rather encouraged by big hearts.
You are a star and though they may tell you that you are a dime a dozen, may you explain that if it weren’t for the sparkle of the stars, the night would simply be a black cloud of lonely.”
—  indieluhv

anonymous asked:

now that i know you like his dark materials... how bout a tfc au daemon style? i've been thinking about it for months and i want nay need it in my life. think of andreil. cause i did and i'm in tears

this is just a little bit because otherwise i’m liable to never stop

Sin settles later than most.

Having a distinctive daemon is somehow less obvious than having one that no one ever sees.  All kinds of kids have peacocks, grizzly bears and cobras - they shift week-to-week, about as permanent as the wind.  If not for his mother, Neil would wear Sin against his skin every day as something tiny.  But that would be obvious, so instead her name changes almost as much as her form.

It’s not until Mary dies that she finally does settle.  Neil looks away from the car, dazzled by firelight, and finds silvery speckled fur with jet-black points and reddish eyes the same colour as Nathaniel Wesninski’s hair.  Just like that, he knows she won’t shift again.

He wants to run and leave her behind.  Instead, the first night they’re alone when he’s finally holed up somewhere safe enough to sleep, he presses his face into her coat and says her name like a prayer.

Jacinth.  

“Shh,” she replies, voice rusty and weary as Neil feels. Like she’s remembering Mary’s lessons, you’re Alex-Stefan-whatever and nothing else, with the ferocity that Neil stills feels the echo of blood-deep.

Tomorrow, he’ll be someone else again. So will she. But he can’t resist the little kernel of truth that is her true name in his mouth.


Sin laughs sharply when they read about Kevin Day joining the Foxes. Irony, she says, her teeth on show.

She isn’t laughing when Wymack comes for them.

“It’s almost meant to be,” he says, gesturing to her where she’s poised at Neil’s feet. The tension in her body is more obvious than it is in Neil’s, every muscle tight with it.  “Need a pen?”

“No,” Neil replies. “I’m not playing for you. You’re wasting your time.”

Wymack taps at the side of his head like he’s not sure his ears are working right. Beside him, his daemon tilts her head. “I misheard you.”

“You signed Kevin.” It sounds like a non sequitur. It’s not – this is a death sentence that the Fox coach is asking him to sign.

“And Kevin’s signing you-”

Neil bolts, leaving him and Hernandez behind in a clatter of metal under the soles of his shoes. There’s no pull from Sin, because she’s right at his heels.

Graduating high school means nothing if he dies within the year. Forget it – he’ll leave tonight, outrunning Kevin and all of his other ghosts.

Except he’s too slow. Halfway through the locker room he realises he isn’t alone, but it’s already too late.

It’s like he hits a brick wall, gasping and suddenly unable to go another step forwards.  For a second he doesn’t realise what has happened – then he hears Sin gasp his name.  

“Better luck next time,” comes a voice from behind Neil. He can’t look to see who it belongs to, his eyes caught on Sin as she struggles in the jaws of another daemon.

“Let her go,” he says, dropped to one knee and not even sure how he got there. The crawl of pain that feels like teeth in the back of his neck is overwhelming, all-consuming.

“Oh, no, no,” the voice says. “We came all this way for you. It’s no fun if you run off ten minutes into our meeting. Your coach was right though - you’re quick.”

There’s the sound of feet on the floor, and Wymack and his coyote daemon appear in the doorway with Hernandez behind them. Wymack says, “God damn it, Minyard!”

“We didn’t break them, Coach,” the voice replies. “Effective, no? Not even a bruise.”

“Let go of her,” Neil repeats, finally managing to turn his head away from Sin to the owner of the voice. Andrew Minyard is familiar thanks to Neil’s reading habits, a broad grin across his face and his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Now, Andrew,” Wymack says.

Andrew gestures to his daemon. “What, you can’t ask her?”

She doesn’t look particularly interested in reasonable argument. She probably outweighs Neil, and even with her head held low she’s nearly a metre tall. She’s a spotted hyena, roughed-coated and powerful and slavering around her grip on Sin’s coat.

Smiling still, Andrew says, “Amaranth.” His daemon spits Sin out at last, so she lands in a heap on the floor. A second later, she bolts for Neil – he opens his arms for her, and then she’s in them, clasped close enough that he feels like he could push her inside of his chest.

It’s not the first time she’s been grabbed by another daemon. All of those memories drag at Neil as he holds her spit-damp, quivering body against him.

“Are you okay?” Wymack asks them, as his daemon puts herself between them and Amaranth. Amaranth nips at her tail and laughs at the snap she gets in response, the sound bright and horrendous and all animal against the backdrop of the locker room.

All the articles talk about Andrew and his bright drugged smile – they don’t mention the effect on his daemon. Or maybe the madness is a pre-existing condition.

“I’m fine,” Neil replies. “I’m leaving.”

Except he isn’t. Except, he doesn’t. Instead he leaves campus in the dark, with Sin curled around his neck, the contract weighing down his bag, and Andrew Minyard’s mocking words echoing in his ears along with his daemon’s laughter. 

Castiel Imagine

Imagine: Castiel coming when you call for him during a bad dream, and the angel helping you fall back to sleep.

(not my GIF)

Castiel’s anxiously glinting blue eyes observed your tense sweat-sheened drowsing figure bathed in the faint glow of the bedside clock. White knuckles lessening their grip on the cool metal of the angel blade, his worry creased brow gradually softened at the realization you were no longer in distress.

Only seconds ago you wrestled with an all too common disquieting dream. Terrified to the core, you punched through the wall of unconsciousness, calling out to the angel in your sleep, both in the feeble utterance of his name beyond your lips, and in the deafening screams of your soul. As often happened, you calmed the instant he arrived – his very presence in the room having a soothing effect and reinforcing your tenuous hold on slumber. Restless now from the physical discomforts shadowing a vivid nightmare, you fitfully stirred, fabric tangled limbs struggling to shove off cotton sheets drenched in sweat, vacillating at the fine line between awareness and insentience.

Keep reading

Frost (Chapter Twenty)

NSFW right off the bat here guys lol mind the cut. Seriously though, the sweetness and playfulness between the three of them after the smut will rot your teeth out. Its the f*cking cutest.

ADDITIONAL CHAPTERS HERE

Enjoy :)

******************

Loki was laid out across the sofa in his chambers, legs falling open, head back, hands digging into the cushions, mouth open as he tried and failed to draw full breaths.

Keep reading

Sprites (pt.1)

Originally posted by chrisshemsworth


Request: Could I perhaps request a Dad!Thor x reader? The reader is raised by her mother her whole life and never really knows anything about her father until she actually finds out her ability to control the sea as like a new Poseidon. Just like a journey of joining the avengers and finding her father. Sorry if it’s really specific. You can change it in anyway you may need. Sorry again

Pairing: Dad!Thor x reader

Word Count: 1,543

Genre: fluff

Notes: Sprites; Shapes and flashes of light that can be seen in the evening or night sky. They are typically blue or red and are the result of electrical discharges in the atmosphere.

10 years later, all avengers are there, she still hasn’t met Thor bc whenever war breaks out they make her leave per her mother’s requests.


“Her powers are growing.” Heimdall affirmed.

Thor let out a huff. 15 now. It had been 15 years since he last saw his daughter in the flesh. Thor always found a way to watch you at least once a month, seeing your growth; it had been quite some time since his last visit although, and oh how you have flourished. You were growing into your godly body quite well, your once gangly limbs now seemed etherealy graceful, you towered over everyone you met (Thor proudly proclaimed you acquired that from him.) and your eyes bore the true mark of royalty. They were the same hue Frigga bore, the sign of royal lineage to be exact. No matter how much he tried, his pride or you bore through him whenever he saw you like sun on a cloudy day.

“I think it’s time she learned of her descent.” Heimdall announced

“Oh yeah? Why so?” Thor asked curiously.

“She is already mastering her skills, she has the makings of a true minor god with the right mentorship. It’s just simply time, bring her to her home, teach her her duties, her heritage. Show her the ways of a god.” Heimdall responded.

Thor mulled it over as he watched you, thinking carefully. That wasn’t his strong suit but the situation called for it.

“I will view her for myself then decide. Heimdall, prepare for my decent.”

Keep reading

ragnell  asked:

How would you return Steve Trevor to life in the DCEU?

I’ve got a few thoughts on this!

First is the greek gods option:

  • There was a definite flash when Steve’s plane exploded. I can easily see Aphrodite (or Zeus, I’m not picky) plucking Steve from the plane right before it explodes. They’re holding him in suspended animation on Olympus or Themyscira, waiting to bestow him as a prize to Diana after she completes the mission in the sequel.
  • There’s also the actively saving his dead soul option, with Diana journeying to the Underworld to rescue him from Hades. We’ve seen this happen in the comics—from the ones I remember, once she went to Asgard, the other time to the Underworld—and while it worked only 50% of the time, it’s cool! I don’t know if I’d use this for a movie though, as it would be the entire plot of the film.
  • And simple prayer. She’s the gods’ champion. Short and sweet.

Another option has to do with Dr. Poison’s power-enhancing gas:

  • The same serum that gave Ludendorff his temporary powers could have completely coated Steve during the explosion, lending him some invulnerability. This might mean that Steve becomes meta, so eww to that.
  • Some people are into the idea of a Winter Soldier type resurrection, which might be fun; Steve Trevor is often mind-controlled by Wonder Woman’s enemies. BUT the moment they order him to shoot at Wonder Woman he breaks out of his trance because his love for Diana > literally every other mental force on earth. And you know how romantic those moments are.

I would be okay with most of these. I *do* know that I want him to come back. What about you?

7

Meet my newest baby! Her name is Lizz and she’s a thief who’s working for the Inquest. Her design should actually use Scarlet’s Spaulders and Scarlet’s Grasp, but I don’t own them yet, so this is her outfit until they are available again.

Here I am using: Dragonscale Epauletes, Auxiliary Powered Coat, Viper’s Armguard, Carapace Leggings and Carapace Boots. I tried finding headgear that fits the design, and I actually wanted to use the Council Watch Faceguard, but unfortunately it’s clipping through the strands of hair in the front, so I can’t use it without freaking out every time I notice it. She’s wearing the Strider’s Faceguard now, but I hardly ever display it. I like to imagine she wears it to conceal her face when she’s infiltrating some facility to steal valuable data or something.

Dyes I used are the following: Iron, Night Shade, Shadow Abyss, Abyss, Fuchsia and Maroon.

I’m a little late to the fashion week, it started three days ago, so I’ll be posting three more outfits I put together to catch up, I guess. Consider this one “Day 1″ of Fashion week for me.

tfw a concept sketch turns itself into a full blown picture??? Anyway heres this dude… Object Head oc cause im obsessed with those things. Hes a creepy fellow this one… 

technically hes a ghost who can possess different clothing, his hat carries the most power but his coat can carry his energy if he feels threatened. I can’t wait to draw action/fighting scenes with him hes great! 

We Make the Kingdom - Pt.13

Image by silverdagger865

Pairing: Yongguk x OC
Genre: Fantasy, with Angst and Smut to come
Summary:  After a vampire attack leaves you almost dead, you are rescued by a group of werelions, powers long thought to be extinct. Upon discovering the same magic flows in your blood, you join their fight against encroaching vampires and another, very human monster, to save the kingdom.
A/N: minor violence and mentions of death
Previous parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ,  8, 9(M), 10, 11, 12


Time does not exist in the absence of light. Without the sun or moon, there are no means to mark how much time passes without Yongguk returning. Time does not exist underground in the cloying darkness that craves to devour anything within its grasp.

          It knows your mind. It feasts on your fears of what is happening to Yongguk, drawing each tortured imagining out like a savored morsel. The stones become scored with your claws and blood as you try to fight the cloud of despair off. Still it comes, wave after wave, bearing down on your will, awaiting your wounded scream of defeat.

          But you are not its usual easy, weakened prey. When your tears dry and your anxieties have whisper themselves hoarse, you close your eyes. You create your own darkness, warm beneath your eyelids. A dark you choose. From its depths, you call for the lioness.

Golden as your animal form’s coat, your power blooms and rises to twine around your mind like a solicitous house cat. You are sorely tempted to sink into it, to wear the confidence-imbibing lioness shape. The chilled collar and itching dried blood on your neck remind you that is impossible.

          You hold on to your power long enough to reach out for the others. Although you cannot talk to them through the connection while human, you can still sense them. They are all here. Restless, scared, and angry, but here. Safe. The wolves are dimmer, brothers of fur but not of pride. They too are all still nearby.

          You must stretch further for Yongguk. You can feel him, his soul as familiar as your own. Yet his emotions, his well-being, are closed off from you as if by the thick castle walls. He too is alive, but he allows you nothing else. It does not surprise you, but his action still causes a wave of guilt. Even now, whatever he is enduring, he is always shielding you.

          Reassured of everyone’s survival, you reluctantly drop your connection. Your power trickles back to its core until it is once again only you, the dark, and the silence but for distant dripping water. Curling on the now cold pallet with your arms wrapped around yourself, you keep your eyes on the door.

          “Come back to me,” you murmur as if your command can summon Yongguk. “Please.”

          The door remains in place, not even flickering torchlight penetrating your cell from beneath it.

Sleep must have managed to steal your mind away because the clanking of keys makes you jolt into a crouch. Within the next second, you recognize Yongguk’s presence. Just behind the door. Relief nearly collapses your knees to the floor again. A burst of apprehension keeps you balanced. What condition will he be in? How cruelly was he mistreated by pampered hands and a corrupted heart?

          The door opens only enough for Yongguk to tumble through and shuts so fast it almost catches his shirt. One of sleeve is torn from his shoulder. It screams of the violence you dreaded. Yongguk remains on his knees, head hanging almost to the floor.

          “Yongguk?” you call softly.

          He lifts his head. Raised red lines score his cheek, but his eyes scare you more. The eyes that look back you are were gold, wild. They are gilded thunderclouds, impenetrable but turbulent with a storm on the brink of snapping free.

          You want to rage and tear at the woman who brought such pain to him. But for his sake, you must be the calm, settling anchor that moors the ship safely home. You edge closer, squatting down to his level, and stop just within reach.

          Yongguk stays still, watching, scrutinizing. Almost as if he cannot place you. He does not move for so long that you begin to fear the very idea of your touch is revolting to him. You hold onto the hope that it is not so. You hope he has not at last been broken like an old carthorse beaten to death.

You take another step closer, saying his name again.

Life flickers back into his face. Yongguk’s voice is hoarse when he says, “I am alright.”

He reaches out touch your cheek. It kills you to not lean into it, but you let him lead. Yongguk will show you what he needs. And you will give it.

“Good.” You hesitate, but cannot help asking, “Did she-”

          “It is over and does not to be told.” Yongguk eases back onto his shins and draws you in.

A faint scent of foreign perfume clings to his shirt. That will not do. You bury your face deeper into his shoulder and mold yourself against him. Soon enough, all traces of the one who stole Yongguk will be banished by your hand.

Small trembles dart beneath his skin under your palms, the only other physical remnants of his ordeal. You hold him tighter still, wishing you could take the burden from him.

“You don’t think she will come for you again?” you ask.

Keep reading

Cold as Ice


I’ve expressed my love for Canon!Danny’s ice powers (nature powers in general are amazing, but I have an extreme love for ice powers), so of course those translate to Four. Because why not.

His eyes change for the power he uses- green for ghost, blue for ice. Both powers are taxing on his body, and his ice powers coat his skin and hair with frost, and he becomes deadly cold to the touch.

Four hates cameras, and he loves to destroy them. Especially when he’s older.

@gneisscastiel replied to your post “magnificent-winged-beast: starsinursa: tismetheemotionalwreck: …”
@elizabethrobertajones​ If Metatron thinks the Trench Coat is “the flag of heaven” and not representative of Cas himself. Why did we see Metatron trying on a Trench Coat in 9.22? I am just wondering how you view that. I find all sides of this conversation so interesting.

I sort of see that as a … separate but connected thing, where Metatron saw it as a symbol of authority/power because Cas had this weird magnetic charm he didn’t understand at all (… Cas is a nice guy who doesn’t kill angels for fun, wow, it’s that easy dude *shakes head at Metatron* :P) and to me season 9 from Metatron’s perspective is… well, almost an imagined feud, where he thinks it’s much more personal than it is, almost like Cas is spiting him and is a real dangerous threat all the time. He sort of feeds his own downfall by whipping Cas up to be his enemy to take him out properly in a big show of power and then destroying everything Cas loves (“Humanity”) and all. He also wants to be a charismatic and loved leader of the angels so trying out the trenchcoat for size is a sign of that. I think the way he made the angels devout slaves to “Castiel” in 9x22 also shows what he wants/thinks love from those he rules when he’s God should be like, that they’d kill themselves without question for him.

I just watched the middle of season 11 and it reminded me that Lucifer goes back to snag the trenchcoat in a large plot hole between 11x14 and 11x15, just because again it’s a symbol of power and a symbol of Cas, who is this powerful figure on the political scene between angels and demons. Like Ambriel said, they talk about him a lot and they all know he has this coat. So I think from the POV of non-Cas randos like Lucifer or Metatron, the trenchcoat contains Cas’s allure and power that they desperately want for themselves, but Cas has by default of his personality and also I think these guys misinterpreting his choices/actions to being more power grabby for its own sake. (Like 12x19 where Kelvin thinks he’s got Cas working with him for one thing and Cas is like, nope, it’s the same motivation as literally everything I’ve ever done since season 4 but for once I’m just so tired I’m going to just tell you it’s because I want to protect Dean :P) In 9x18 Metatron says via Gabriel that Cas has been God more times than God has, and I think that’s one of the key phrases betraying Metatron’s hand because that’s his very specific opinion on what Cas has done and what he wanted and why he did certain things.

But if we just use Metatron’s words about the coat being the “flag of heaven” as 9x18’s “loneliness is a coat you wear” montage bit also implied to make the symbolism and power of the coat a huge part of Cas’s journey as he takes it on and off as he makes up his mind, I think ignoring the dingus behind it and his reasons for obsessing over the coat, it also does make an interesting metaphor. (Also the loneliness line, linking it to Cas’s duty and choice to summon the angels and make the army and do what he was ~supposed~ to do etc is all very metaphoric of the coat representing a huge burden of his duties and responsibility)

… I do agree with your meta that it also shows his power, but I kind of think that power comes with all these catches so much it’s not worth it to judge Cas’s health by his coat, in a way :P Like yeah the 2nd coat definitely represents this awful unhealthy time of battered grace and he ought to have ditched it after 10x18 (took it off for the montage there at least, and Robbie’s montages are like a web of meta all on their own >.>)… I just don’t really agree he should go back to the original sexy coat either.

Villains
  • Kingdom Hearts: Riku, no wait... Ansem, no wait... Riku, no wait.... both! Oh wait it was really just Ansem.
  • Chain of Memories: Powerful people in dark coats
  • Kingdom Hearts 2: Man with orange eyes and fluffy hair controls powerful people in dark coats with weird names
  • 358/2 Days: Evil bosses take away nice friend
  • Birth By Sleep: Creepy old man behind it all. Makes naive brown haired friend evil. Creepy old man must be destroyed.
  • Dream Drop Distance: IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON SORA'S HEAD AND TRY TO MAKE HIM EVIL, I WILL INSERT MYSELF INTO THE GAME TO BITCH SLAP YOU INTO THE GRAVE