uncontrolled powers


Ah, ah sketch ^^’’’’ - well, rushed is rushed, but whatever.

So, Mermaid AU. Actually I was very tempted to draw a Frozen Au (Yuri with uncontrolled Ice power, actually), but yesterday (more two days ago, errr) I was talking about mermaids with @arrowsbane and there we are <3 

i need an entire spinoff about the babysitter from the incredibles getting hired to babysit all the superhero babies in the city because news spread about how she managed to handle jack jack 

she grows up to start a superhero babysitting agency where she specially trains babysitters to deal with babies who wreak havoc with their uncontrolled powers and toddlers who are trying to hide their powers or are learning to control them

Gradence plots that haunt me

They are independent and incompatible, and I just can’t find it in myself to write three different fics at once, so take these plots and write them at will. 

1. The one where is no Grindelwald. Don’t need him. He can eff off. Just Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security, dedicated and callous. He is looking for obscurial for himself, i.e. for security reasons - it is definitely not OOC for US security services to try to weaponise, well, everything. “There is an IMMENSE UNCONTROLLABLE DARK POWER somewhere on the loose!!! And it’s tethered to an abused child! - F yeah, let’s find the child and harness the power for our purposes!” That’s definitely the government security services at their finest, magical or otherwise. 

 Graves tries to find the source of the obscurial and uses Credence in the same abusive ways as in the movie. But somewhere along the way he begins to develop a fondness for the boy. He’s torn between desperate wanting and righteousness (as he understands it). He is not a good person, but it doesn’t mean he is incapable of love. At the crucial moment, when Credence is all hurricane-y and all the forces of MACUSA are aiming at him… Graves just can’t let him die. “Don’t shoot!” he cries. “Credence!” - but they shoot anyway, and he shields obscurial!Credence for as long as he can, but there’s just too many of them. He falls on his knees as several shots penetrate him. “Credence” he whispers. Credence is so shocked to see this man, the man he thought used him and betrayed him, to protect him with his life, - that shock overcomes Credence’s rage and hurt, and he collapses back into his human form. Astonished, the Aurors carefully approach Credence. He is cradling Graves’ dead body in his arms. 

2. The one where Grindewald is the main character. It’s Grindewald, not Graves, who is in love with Credence. Not at first, no.

Grindelwald id, in his own twisted way, sincere - he is genuinely horrified by the oppression of witches and wizards. We are born this way! No one should force us to hide in the closet! Magic is not something to be ashamed of! Black Gay Mutant Wizard and proud! Grindelwald sees magic as beautiful and precious, and will do everything to liberate it. Ironically, this puts him against his own magical government: he sees them as perpetuators of systemic oppression and traitors to their own kind. And what is more proof of that than the existence of an obscurial - not somewhere in the middle of nowhere, but here, in New York, in the centre of magical civilisation - a thing of beauty, a magical child, failed by this civilisation of liars and hypocrites.  

Credence is, of course, of no interest to him - right up to the moment when Grindelwald realises that this immense power he is in constant awe of is, in fact, Credence. Caterpillar has turned into a beautiful butterfly. Grindelwald falls on his knees in front of him. “You’re beautiful like this”, - he wants to say. - “And they want you to hide!” Right at this moment, when everyone is frightened or concerned, Grindelwald is in love.

3. The one where Credence lives, and the real Graves is found, and Graves is even more traumatised than Credence. This is not to diminish Credence’s experiences. But when the Aurors find Graves, he is barely clinging to life. He was tortured (liberal application of Crucio can drive one mad, see Neville’s parents), confined, immobilised, Grindelwald messed with his memories. Even if he can recover physically, it’s full-on PTSD for him. Credence, by the way, is cleared of all charges and is learning magic and coddled by Goldstein sisters. Due to his own experience of abuse he is not blaming Graves for Grindelwald’s deeds; so Credence sets out to help Graves. He achieves full agency, he clings to the chance to care for someone he loves, actively help this one person who was kind to him. Credence is the one to gently coax poor Graves back to life, to hold him through his nightmares, to protect him and support him. (Basically, every single Stucky fic). It will be a long journey for the two of them.

azure7539arts  asked:

Saw the post a bit late, and I hope you're feeling better now *hugs* hmm... Harry Potter AU? Or just about any magical-related thing really.

Sorry I didn’t see this, luv, I went to bed early. I’m better, yeah, and I am always always always down for magic!AUs :D


There’s nothing magical about his fluency with numbers and coding. There’s no sorcery in his curiosity in, and subsequent mastery of, chemicals and biology. There’s no need to bring wizardry into his fascination with machines. In fact, his only magic is in brewing the perfect cuppa, whether for himself or another.

007, however… 007 has loads of magic.

He’s full to the brim of untamed, unchecked, uncontrollable power. He can heal. He can call fire. He can make explosions if he concentrates. He can create forcefields around multiple people. He can wipe memories and implant false ones. His bones are fifty times stronger and lighter than anyone else’s, and he can triple his strength. He’s also immortal, or so the whispers say.

But he isn’t happy with his magic. Most people are; most people are glad that they have small things. Big things, like calling firestorms, or magicking buildings to stand strong against the elements, or healing, rarely bring happiness. Healers are in high demand, especially the strong ones, so most are in hiding.

No one in recorded history has as much magic as 007. And MI6 wants him unrecorded, too. Which means plenty of work for Q-branch, covering up his messes.

But Q doesn’t mind. He admires 007, for staying sane this long. Q knows the theories behind magic (of course he does), all seventeen hundred of them; and most agree that, as the magnitude and scope of your power grows, the more you have to use it, otherwise it eats you up and you go insane, and then you have to be killed before you go on a murderous rampage. So Q doesn’t blame 007 for using his magic so often.

He just wishes it were writ down in his file that 007 can make people fall in love with him.


One day, 007 appears in Q’s office. Just–appears. Q looks up and frowns at him.

“Either you walk incredibly quietly or no one told me you can teleport,” he tells 007 dryly.

“I leave it to you to decide which,” 007 replies smoothly with a smirk.

“Cheeky. Do you have your equipment?” Because even if 007 can walk through fire unscathed, his equipment certainly can’t.

Q needn’t have worried. 007 produces all of his toys, though the gun is a bit battered, and sets them down on Q’s clean desk (he’d just cleaned it off, but by morning it will be a magpie’s nest again). “May I have a cup of tea?” 007 asks politely.

Q glares in exasperation, but something–he’s always suspected 007 of muscle-control–turns him on his stool, makes him stand, and walks him over to his tea station on the back wall. The electric kettle still has plenty of water in it; he turns it on again and chooses the tea he knows 007 is craving from the rack. It’s always like this; he can’t read minds, but he knows exactly what kind of tea people want. It’s saved all kinds of different meetings from disaster.

He decides it’s just the soft footsteps, because he only hears three before 007 is suddenly standing at his shoulder.

“How do you always know?” 007 asks, and maybe there’s sadness in his tone and maybe not.

“That’s my magic,” Q replies without looking up, just knowing that 007 wants a few drops of lemon in his tea with two lumps of sugar. Good thing Q has a little bottle of lemon juice just for such an occasion. He’s made tea for 007 before, and after trying it himself, he has to admit that a little lemon in his tea is quite nice when he’s feeling sour himself.

The water is boiling. Q pours it into the mug, then adds two teabags (James likes it strong) and three drops of lemon before the two lumps of sugar.

“I wish I had your magic,” 007 murmurs, and Q knows, just like he knows tea, that 007 means it.

“I’m sorry,” he says as he turns and looks up into 007′s sad eyes (funny, when had he learned to read them?). “I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

007 chuckles, a broken kind of sound. “You know. How the fuck do you always know?”

It’s said with bitterness, but no anger. He isn’t sneering at Q for claiming to know. He’s just… sad.

Q hands him his mug. “I’m not sure. Drink your tea. You’ll feel better.”

007 smiles faintly, takes a sip, sighs. “Thank you, Q.”

Q smiles back. “You’re welcome, James.”

007 does a double-take. “You called me James.”

“Astute as ever.”

“Why did you call me James?”

“Because…” Here Q frowns a little to himself. He can’t say because he’s feeling such a sudden, fierce wave of love. He can’t say because he wants to get lost in those eyes and beat back the sadness with a kiss. He can’t say the truth.

007–James– sets the tea down on the counter. “The truth, please.”

Q sighs. Well. Nothing for it. “I love you.”

James stares at him. For a very long time. Q looks back, keeping his face sober and sincere.

Then suddenly James’ hands shoot out, grab Q’s face, and drag him forward for a kiss. It’s messy, desperate, a mashing of faces with none of the artistry James usually shows. It’s glorious.

And when James and Q finally part, Q’s grinning giddily and James has a look of such wonder on his face that Q just wants to kiss him again. So he does. And James kisses back, wraps his arms around Q, holds him tight like he’s never letting go.

The tea grows cold, but neither of them care.

Just one Yesterday

Originally posted by telefilmaddictedforever

Warnings: Violence??

You are a meta-human with strange and uncontrollable powers. One day you accidentally blow up a parking meter, causing trouble. This brings you to the attention of team Flash- and a lot of other people. But can they really help you? 

Series Song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJqL-UHQuP8 )

You know- today has been a bad day for you.

The one thing you would like right now?

The usual thing to say was a break- but this is a different situation.


No, at this given moment in time- you wanted a fire extinguisher.

The meter you were parked at-

It exploded.

Not because of a bomb.

No-that would have been much too easy.

It was because you made it explode.

You had physically made the parking meter explode with your brain.

Maybe one day parking meters won’t be run by electricity- maybe one day this won’t be able to happen.

But today was not that day.

You looked up in horror as the parking meter that had decided to charge you explode in a shower of sparks. You gaped at the sparks flying through the air- not surprised because of what you could do- not not because of that.

You were surprised because you had thought you could only affect living people. You had thought you could only control the electrical singles in an organism’s body! Not technology.


There was at least one upside to your secret being exposed on the streets of Central City.

The thing that exploded had not been a person.

The top of the meter flew through the air, crashing through a store window.

Your hands flew to your head, clutching your (h/c) as you watched.

“Hey- you there! Girl in the white hoodie!” You turned, seeing a cop running at you, gun in plain sight. You scuttled backward, back onto the sidewalk before you turned away from the cop.

He had seen you.

He had seen you lose control and cause the meter to blow.

You opened your eyes, seeing the flowing white electricity of your powers rippling across your arms.


You didn’t want this.

You didn’t want to be exposed like this.

But it was already too late.

You turned, seeing the cop coming to a stop in front of you.

He- he had a gun pointed at you.

Then you panicked.

You stepped back, head reeling.

“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to come with me.” The officer said, gun still pointing straight at your head.

You looked at him, a flash of memory finding it’s way to the surface.

You had been shot before.

So many times.

You shuddered, eyes focusing on the gun as you broke from the memory. Stumbling, you gestured wildly.

“No! Stay away!” You screamed, energy rippling through you and across the entire street.

The cop flew back, windows shattered.

If there was a pedestrian close, they were on the ground unconscious- or maybe worse.

Your hands flew to your mouth, stopping a sob from escaping your wobbly lips.

There was no hiding anymore.

There was no going back to your small cozy apartment.

No- you had to run.

And that is exactly what you did.

“Barry? There’s a ton of metahuman sightings coming from downtown.” Cisco said as he rolled around in his computer chair, watching the screens at STAR dutifully.

“Downtown?” Barry asked, already in his suit as he ran around Central City.

“Yeah. There aren’t really any specifics about it- but it seems pretty serious.”

“I’m already there.”

And he was- given that he was the Flash and he could literally be anywhere in a second.

Barry skidded to a stop, the first thing his browns eyes landing on was a…

Broken parking meter?

Barry looked around, suddenly realizing that all the windows on the block had been blown out. The Flash frowned, relieved he saw casualties.

Whatever had done this must have been pretty nasty.


Barry spun, turning to see Joe running up to meet him. Otherwise from the nasty cut on his head- physically he seemed fine. But mentally- well that was another thing.

“Joe? What happened? Are you okay?” Barry asked, catching Joe by the shoulder and helped him stay steady as he stood.

“I’m fine Barry, I’m fine. My brain’s just a little frazzled from the metahuman.”

“What did they do?”

“I’m not sure. Actaully- I don’t think I know at all. One moment I was running at a woman who had just blown up a parking meter- and then everything went fuzzy.”


“Flash- I can’t remember anything. No one on this street can remember what happened after the parking meter blew up.”

“The windows?”

“No idea.” Joe said, finally standing up on his own, even though he was still a little unsteady. Barry shook his head, confused.

“Well, do you at least know what she looked like? Where she went?”

“She was wearing white- had her hair pulled away from her face. That’s about it- for some reason I can’t remember her without getting a blurry face.”

“Awesome.” Barry said, hands on his hips as he surveyed the scene. His brown eyes landed on the parking meter, still sparking.

“You said she blew up that parking meter?” Barry asked, wearily beginning to approach the broken machine.

“Yeah. That’s the one.” Joe replied, following closely behind. The flash examined the broken pole, scowling as he traced a gloved finger across the wires.

“There’s no residue. No sign of a bomb- tampering… there’s nothing.”

It made no sense- even with a metahuman.

“Well I mean… wait. Look Barry- over by Big Bellies.” Flash looked up when Joe whispered his name, seeing what he was looking at.

The cement was streaked with white.

They were almost invisible- but they was there.

There were faint, sparkling white trails of footprints, leading down the sidewalk. Barry wanted to fistpump, but he felt like that would be a little overkill.

“I’ll follow them.” Barry told Joe, holding his hand back behind him so Joe knew he didn’t need to follow.

“Wait Flash-”

But Barry was gone.

Barry followed the tracks all the way to the park- all the way to an abandoned swingset.

Barry stopped, seeing the tracks fading away.

They led to you.

You were scrambling across the surface of the park, unstably making your way across the wood chips.

You did not look as threatening as Joe had proposed.

“Hey!” Barry yelled, causing you to spin around, (e/c) eyes wide. When your eyes landed on him- you about had a heartattack.

The both of you stood there for a moment, wind rustling through your (h/c) hair as you stared.

Flash stared back, for once not seeming to know what to do.

Suddenly you cursed, turned and sprinted, your flat’s flying off of your feet.

“Wait what… hey wait!” Barry called after you and then quickly sped ahead. He stopped in front of you and turned his hands up in a non- threatening way.

You screeched to a stop, the bun on your head flopping forward and bouncing against your head.

“Hold on. Are the you the girl who just blew up the meter-” You cut Flash off, leaping forward and driving your fist straight into his jaw. Barry flew backwards, skidding across the park sidewalk like a rock on water.

Both of your were shocked- neither of you thought you would punch that hard.

“OW!” Barry said, sitting up and holding his jaw, staring up at you from twenty feet away.

“I panicked.” You stated out loud, hands still raised over your hands in a horrified manner.

“It’s cool. I heal fast.” Flash assured you,  getting up slowly. You dropped your hands slowly, watching as Barry made his way back towards you.

“Wait- don’t come any closer.” You told the superhero, a flicker of white rippling through your hair.

“Why? You know, the usual evil metahumans go straight into the fighting and evil monologuing. Having a casual chat right after you punch the Flash isn’t how it usually goes.”

“That’s because I’m not evil. I just can’t control these stupid powers.” You said, frowning. Barry’s eyes softened under his mask, realizing what he was dealing with.

“So you didn’t- then why did you blow up that parking meter?”

“I didn’t mean too! It was an accident. I got there one second late and I got charged for it! I got angry and it blew up!” You exclaimed, frustrated that you were being painted as the criminal by the superhero.

“You got angry and blew up the meter because of ticket?” Flash asked, a chuckled rising from his throat. Your eyes widened, and you felt a hot blush rising across your face.

“It’s not funny.”

“Of course not.”

“Then why are you laughing.”

“I’m not.”

“Lair! I can see you giggling at me!” You exclaimed, folding your arms. Flash sighed, giving up.

“Okay, so I found it a little funny. Sue me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at his comment, staring down at the cement.

“You know if I can’t get this stuff figured out- that might just happen.” You whispered, scratching the back of your head. Flash looked at you, finally now realizing how serious this was.

But Barry knew a way to help you.“Actually- I think I can help with that.


April 26th 1986: Chernobyl nuclear disaster

On this day in 1986, a reactor exploded at the Chernobyl nuclear power station in Ukraine, creating the world’s worst nuclear disaster. Radioactive smoke was let into the atmosphere which spread across the Soviet Union and Europe. Thirty-one members of staff and emergency workers died directly due to the accident, but many others died from diseases - often cancer - resulting from exposure to radiation. Hundreds of thousands of people eventually had to be evacuated and resettled due to contamination of areas of Belarus, Russia and Ukraine. The disaster raised questions of the safety of nuclear power and encouraged the Soviet government to become more open. Only two nuclear accidents have been classified as level seven on the International Nuclear Event Scale - Chernobyl and the Fukushima Daiichi disaster of 2011.

“For the first time ever, we have confronted in reality the sinister power of uncontrolled nuclear energy.”
- Mikhail Gorbachev

30 years ago today

The irony of the team cap vs team iron man fan fight is that 90% of the people on team cap would completely disagree if it were a real life situation or even put into the context of, say, gun control

elemental hatred

Summary: requested, Hey could you do a Draco X reader where the reader is an elemental and an orphan and Draco always makes fun of her and she gets angry but then it all ends up fluffy pls? 😊💖 

Word Count: 1607

Warnings: Swearing

Author’s Note: This isn’t particularly well written and I’m still not happy with it but have struggled through the writer’s block to post it.

You’d been in Slytherin since first year and even though you hadn’t always agreed with your housemates it had always felt like the home you had never had. It had taken the Sorting Hat a while to sort you and to begin with you thought it would choose a different house but then it saw your powers. An uncontrollable force hiding inside of you, dangerous when unleashed and terrible if in the hands of the wrong person.

Were you the wrong person? If you asked a Gryffindor they’d say yes, after all you were in Slytherin, but Dumbledore seemed to have faith in you to make the right decision. Either way you’d rather keep your powers a secret, after all elemental witches were frowned upon in the Ministry of Magic.

“Did you leave your brain in London, (Y/L/N)?” A familiar voice questioned as you made your way down to the Common Room.

“I didn’t even think you had one in the first place, Malfoy,” You retorted, turning to shoot a glare at the blond boy behind you. The relationship you had with Slytherin’s Prince was a confusing one he could be decent, at times, but the two of you still annoyed each other to no end.

“Where’s your gang of misfits? Finally noticed how useless you are?” Malfoy smirked over at you, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“They’re not misfits,” You glared over at him, “And what about your friends? Crabbe and Goyle do know that you have to string words together to form a sentence, right?”

Draco shrugged, “Wasn’t certain you knew what the word friends meant. It’s not like you have any, is it?”

“Your losing your touch Malfoy, I though we’d got past commenting on my lack of a stereotypical Slytherin attitude,” You said with a bitter undertone as you approached the hidden wall which concealed the Slytherin Common room. “Pureblood,”

The wall opened silently, the snakes on either side of the door staring you down. You and Draco entered side by side, causing your friends who were already there to send you confused looks. “And what is a ‘stereotypical Slytherin attitude’?”

“A 'we're better than everyone else—”

“We are,”

“Big-headed, egotistical, jerk-ish,”

“Harsh, (Y/L/N),”

“Irresponsible, disrespectful to everything around us’ attitude,"  You listed, ticking each point of on your fingers. You glanced up at the fellow Slytherin, "Actually, I think I just described you,”

“You’re so kind to me, (Y/L/N),” Draco smirked after you.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” You scowled, glaring at him over your shoulder. Most eyes in the room were on the two of you.

“You need to wash your mouth out, princess,” He laughed causing your hand to inch for the wand in your pocket, but knowing that you didn’t really need it.

You glared at him, “Not your princess, Malfoy,”

With that you spun on your heel, leaving a cold wind behind you that flooded through the windowless room. You really needed to keep a better check on your elemental magic.

Your friends were surprised that you managed to avoid conflict with the great Draco Malfoy for most of the first week back at Hogwarts. However all the anger that you usually let loose on the Slytherin Prince seemed to have built up over the days, causing your magic to act sporadically. It was late afternoon when you were sat with Blaise Zabini, finishing off homework for the next day.

Malfoy entered the common room, his mindless followers not far behind, and unfortunately for you seated themselves besides you and Blaise. You glanced up at Malfoy, with an unimpressed look, to see him already looking your way, “Finished bullying first years, Malfoy?”

“They were third years, actually,” Crabbe exclaimed, causing you to glance over at him in surprise. You honestly didn’t know he could talk.

“Oh well that makes everything better,” You said sarcastically, gaze falling on Malfoy, “Your parents must be so proud,”

“Like yours are?” He shot back instantly. Malfoy was always one to verbally retort, but you couldn’t see him faring well in a physical fight. “Who would be proud of the blood traitor who barely deserves a place in Slytherin?”

In the corner of your eye you could see the fire roar more viciously than before, almost leaping out of the metal confines that made up the fireplace. Your hand instantly clenched, as your heartbeat sounded loudly in your ears like a constant drumbeat in your head.

Malfoy said something else but you couldn’t hear anything, you couldn’t see anything. All you could see was their blank eyes staring up at you, your screams of pain from many years ago echoing as if it was happening in that second.

“What did you say?” Your voice was emotionless, and there was a cold spark in your eyes that had never been there before. You swallowed harshly, attempting to ignore the power that was flooding through your body uncontrollably.

“I said,” Malfoy emphasised, “That your mother’s probably glad that you’re here for most of the year so she doesn’t have to put up with you,”

It happened to quickly for you to stop it.

One second Malfoy was sitting opposite you and the next he was half way across the room, blood coating his robes and his arm bent in an awkward position. The wind was cold yet the flames were dancing, and onlookers would later swear that the fire was dancing around you.

It wasn’t long before you too fainted, both you and Malfoy on the floor. One covered in blood, the other in water. The students were sent to their dorms and both the Head of House and headmaster summoned. Rumors swept round the school like wildfire, some saying you attacked Malfoy, others saying he attacked you.

Your eyes opened. A familiar white ceiling stared back down at you, and as you slowly pushed yourself from the bed you took in the infirmary that was around you.

The infirmary was silent as you began to walk around ignoring the vicious headache that made you want to faint again. It was when you finally saw the occupant of a bed nearby to yours that you froze. Draco Malfoy was curled up on the bed, looking seriously ill. Slowly, you approached him, clenching your jaw as you saw the effects of your little episode.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured quietly before backing away, the guilt making it unbearable to be around him.

“You going to leave me all alone?” Malfoy commented hoarsely, opening his eyes to look up at you. You swallowed as you took in his injuries, standing awkwardly beside his bed.

“Didn’t think you’d want me around when I did,” You gestured to his injuries, “This,”

Malfoy shrugged, wincing softly as he did so, “At least I know why they call you neurotic now,”

“Can we not joke about this?” Your voice was an almost silent whisper, “I almost killed you!”

“We’re all dying,” Malfoy pointed out being much more nonchalant about the situation than you expected, “But this better not scar, I’ll be pissed then,”

“You nearly died and all you can think about it that pretty face of yours!” You exclaimed, falling into the chair by his bed.

He smirked over at you, “You think I’m pretty?”

You stared at him not answering for a moment, his smirk dropped as he saw the serious expression on your face, “My parents are dead.” He stayed silent, “They were killed ten years ago, by some extremist who discovered what I was,”

“What are you?”

“You may be an asshole, Malfoy, but you’re not stupid,” You smiled slightly, “I’m an elemental witch.” You lifted a hand and concentrated hard, a ball of water formed in your hand, entwining itself between your fingers like a snake. With a clench of your hand the water evaporated, disappearing without a trace.

“Explains why you get preferential treatment with the teachers then,” He shrugged.

You stared at him, “I don’t get preferential treatment-”

“Yes you do,” Malfoy said, sounding slightly more bitter, “In every class,”

“Do you really pay that much attention to me?” You inquired, staring as you saw a side to this boy you hadn’t seen before

.Malfoy smiled, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, (Y/N), but you’re quite difficult to miss,”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing, Draco,” You followed your arms stubbornly.

“I assure you, princess, it’s not a bad thing,

"You scowled slightly, leaning forwards, "I though we agreed that I’m not your princess,”

“How about we change that?” Malfoy said with a vicious smirk in your direction.

Staring at him you frowned, “Are you asking me out?”

“Are you saying yes?” He retorted, the two of you were getting much closer now. You stared warily at him, “Come on, (Y/L/N), do I really need to play the pity card?”

“You hate me,”

“And who told you that?” Malfoy asked quietly.

The two of you were locked in a stare which was sending the tension over the limits. Draco lifted his hand and traced a scar on your jaw, tilting your face towards his. You should have pulled back but you were trapped under his gaze. His lips moved against yours, hands gripping your waist and pulling you towards him. The kiss was unyielding but their was a gentleness in the way he held you - as if he was afraid that you would pull away from him. The kiss was draining, in the best way possible and instantly you didn’t want to stop.

You pulled back first. Your breathing unsteady and face flushed, “I hate you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes then,”


You have an interesting and uncontrollable super power. Whenever someone tells you “I am literally….” in place of figuratively, you inadvertently make that thing happen to them.

Day 3 (6/6/16): Background: What’s their story?

Anthracites coal gems were, until recently, a new kind of gem still being perfected by Homeworld to be used as a new kind of weapon because of their natural tendencies to store lots of raw power.

The first many experiments were unsuccessful and resulted in gems that either couldn’t take form or were crushed too quickly and easily. The first “successful” Anthracite could take form on her own and keep hold on her fire powers, but could only use it in uncontrollably powerful bursts that would slowly deteriorate her gem after too much consistent use. She’d spend many years on Homeworld alone only to be used in experiments.

Our Anthracite, the second, was very powerful and a step in the right direction in the ongoing development of the gems. Her fire was much more easily manageable to her and still very powerful, reaching temperatures high enough to be blue. She was also given leg limb enhancers that allowed her to channel her fire power, allowing her to fly. This was thought to be the final Anthracite experiment, but Homeworld researchers later discovered that her gem would also burn out if used too much over time. She and Anthracite model No. 1 were kept together, keeping each other company.

Finally, the third Anthracite was completed. Although her fire wasn’t quite as hot and powerful as the second’s, her gem was more compact and no longer liable to crack under stress. She was the perfect model, the researchers concluded.

The three Anthracites, kept living together in the research facility, got along during the time they were together, but that was quickly changed after No. 3 was discovered to be the final model.

With nothing else to do with the first two failed Anthracites, the Homeworld researchers decided that it would be fun to make them push their powers to the limit, just to see how far they could go, and eventually have them break themselves. No. 1 hit this point within just a few minutes of constant use, cracking her gem beyond repair. No. 2 ran to her side, begging No. 3 for help, only to get the response of silence, standing behind the Homeworld gems now that she realized she’d be of use to them.

No. 1 told No. 2 to get away, and use her limb enhancers to fly off-planet. No. 2 tried to take No. 1 with her, but No. 1 refused, knowing it was already too late and that she’d only slow her down. No.2 took off and, to her surprise, noone pursued her, as she had already outlived her usefulness to them. With that, Anthracite fled from Homeworld as fast as her rocket boots would carry her.

She looked back once, for her lost friend, but never again.

(Reminder that I’m doing Gemsona design commissions here)

misscrazyfangirl321  asked:

Snowbert for the ship meme? Or Captain Canary, if you don't ship Snowbert?

So I definitely had to look up what “Snowbert” was haha but upon doing so and finding it was Julian and Caitlin I realized I do in fact ship Snowbert so I can do it for Snowbert! Yay.

who is more likely to hurt the other?
Ooh, with them and their somewhat uncontrolled powers this is a really angsty question haha. It’s say Caitlin, probably, for obvious frost related reasons.
who is emotionally stronger?
who is physically stronger?
Erm. I guess Julian? He probably has muscles from all his expeditions? Lol.
who is more likely to break a bone?
Julian is probably more reckless with things, so probably him.
who knows best what to say to upset the other? 
Ooh, probably Julian.
who is most likely to apologise first after an argument?
AlsoJulian haha
who treats who’s wounds more often?
Well being that Caitlin is a doctor, she probably treats Julian’s wounds more often. 
who is in constant need of comfort?
I feel like they’re pretty evenly matched here, you know powers and everything.
who gets more jealous?
Julian definitely
who’s most likely to walk out on the other?
Also Julian
who will propose?
who has the most difficult parents?
I mean we’ve never met Julian’s parents but we know Caitlin’s mom is difficult so I’d say Caitlin.
who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public?
who comes up for the other all the time?
who hogs the blankets?
Caitlin….contrary to popular belief, the cold really bothers her anyway. 
who gets more sad?
who is better at cheering the other up?
who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?
Caitlin haha
who is more streetwise?
Julian I suppose 
who is more wise?
Caitlin for sure
who’s the shyest?
who boasts about the other more?
Oh I love the idea of Julian boasting about Caitlin constantly
who sits on who’s lap?
Caitlin sits on Julian’s.

Not Anyone Who Says

Not anyone who says, “I’m going to be
careful and smart in matters of love,”
who says, “I’m going to choose slowly,”
but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all
but were, as it were, chosen
by something invisible and powerful and uncontrollable
and beautiful and possibly even
unsuitable —
only those know what I’m talking about
in this talking about love.

-Mary Oliver, Not Anyone Who Says

{Stranded} Open Starter- Cleo

Originally posted by wattpad

★-  “Well this sucks, my car won’t start and I haven’t even found anything on this vamp case yet. What kind of hunter am I?” Cleo said with annoyance as she sat on the hood of her car, a red 1967 Chevy Camero in the empty parking lot of the gas station she was in. 

 Except she didn’t say it. She thought it. Thought projection. Just another side affect of being half demon. That and the whole “uncontrollable powers” situation. It’s been this way for here ever since birth, and it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

But a half-demon hunter to be stranded in an empty parking lot in a town full of vampires? That was the icing on top of the cake that was this terrible day for Cleo. She waited for someone to help out, 

                or even a vampire to come and kill her.

Letting out a slight growl, the half-demon hunter said loudly and with annoyance. 

  “Today can’t get any worse…can it?”


Imagine: Magical Potential (requested by anon)

request: (Y/N) has magical powers but can’t use them because of her anxiety and fear. Peter helps her to control and use them.

When I arrived in Neverland, no one knew about my secret. Peter had saved me from the arctic, where me and my family had to live because of my ‘problem’. My uncontrollable powers. I decided to go with Peter because I wanted my family to be free of me and the burden I brought to them. At first I was afraid that my powers would mess up the whole place when I set foot on it, but up to now, nothing had happened. I leaned against a tree in the deepest forest and tried to freeze a simple stick. I had to get my shit together if I wanted to live here without anyone knowing about it. Of course everything ended in a huge chaos. Instead of only freezing the stick in my hand, I turned the whole section of forest into a snowscape. I froze in the movement and started to panic that my powers would completely run out of control again, that people would find out I was responsible for all this. That they would outcast me if they did. The anxiety in my stomach felt like a heavy stone, dragging me into a dangerously black hole of fear and desperation. I rolled my eyes at myself and tried to calm down, tears still rolling down my face. “Well, well what do we got here?” Pan leaned against the tree on the other side of the clearing. “Peter!” I screamed out bug eyed wiping the little tear away quickly. Why the hell did he always have to show up when I was in trouble. He appeared directly in front of me, his gaze locked with mine. “Look at that! Snow in Neverland? Must be a miracle, right (Y/N)?” He said sneeringly. I rolled my eyes at him but tried to hide my feelings and remained quiet. What was I supposed to tell him? “So you have powers?” He asked raising his eyebrow at me. I wasn’t supposed to tell him anything because he already knew. “I don’t want anyone to know about it, do you understand?” I said getting to my feet quickly. He approached me with a curious look on his face. “Why not?” He asked frowning now standing only inches away from me. “Because I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” I said empathetically my glance attached to the ground. He cocked his head to the side. “You can’t control them, can you?” He said calmly. I felt heat running through my whole body, especially my cheeks. The feeling of embarrassment. “There’s no reason to be ashamed, love.” He gently pulled me into a hug. “I can teach you how to handle them if you’d like.” He mumbled into my hair. I shrieked away from him. “You can?!” I screamed out with a big smile on my face. “Hey… I’m still Peter Pan, the most powerful magician.. in the whole world I think? Is there something I can’t do?” He said deadpan. “Oh shut up!” I said punching both of my hands against his shoulder causing him to stumble backwards a little. We walked back to camp and for whatever reason Peter took my hand. We’ve been close since he’d rescued me from the place I once called home. He showed me around, taught me how to handle bow and arrow and especially how to hunt animals. “Quickly. Quiet.” He used to say when we were out in the woods together. It felt good not to know exactly what was going on between us. We always teased one another but at the same time we acted tenderly and lovingly towards each other. The next morning Peter literally tried to drag me out of my tent. I was sleeping all good in my warm bed when someone grabbed my shoulders and shook me awake. Only after a couple of minutes I bothered to open my eyes and after some more I realized what was happening. “Peter! Stop! Are you crazy?!” I slammed my hand against my forehead and rolled my eyes at him. Peter didn’t answer, he continued trying to get me out of bed. “Whaaat are you doing?” I punched him in the shoulder and tried to tickle his belly but he didn’t react. Nothing. He just laughed because I laughed. And then he grabbed my feet. “Whoawhoawhoa wait.” I said holding my hand out to him. “Look! I’m out of bed!” I said grinning like an idiot, finally getting up. “We have a lot to do, and I want to start as soon as possible!” He said, with almost childish excitement in his eyes. It was adorable. “Yeah I saw that! You’re too crazy sometimes.” I reached out to ruffle through his hair wildly. “I’ll get ready and then we can go, okay?” I said smiling at him gently, then I went to the lagoon to quickly wash my hair and got dressed afterwards. Peter was already waiting for me, backpacks packed. “Where are we going?” I asked him, brow raised. “Skull Rock.” He said smirking. “There you can let yourself go.” He added when walking towards the woods. “Great.” I said ironically, following him on the heels.
“Stop, stop! I can’t control it.” I said after another one second try of using my powers in control. “Just try another time.” He said comfortingly. Annoyed I raised my hand for what felt like the millionth time. “Go on, slowly and carefully.” He said with a calm voice. I was just about to let an ice flame dance on my hand as it just flowed into all directions. “I give up.” I said frustrated, leaning against the tree now. When I touched the trunk with my hand, the whole tree suddenly freezed. I jerked away from the coldness, tears started to form in my eyes. The old fear came back. Suddenly I felt two warm hands wrapping around my waist from behind. “Hey… I promise, soon it’ll work out.” Peter said soothingly,  caressing my belly. I turned around to face him. “Listen, it’s cute how you try to lie to me but we both know this is never going to work out.” I said rolling my eyes at him, trying to walk away but he held me back. “Come on give it one last try.” I looked at him in disbelief. I was done with it! “No.” I said angrily. “I’ll do it with you.” He offered with a soft look. I thought about it for a second but already knew what my answer would be. “Last one.” I said reproachfully. “Last one.” He repeated and came even closer. He intertwined his hand with mine and started to guide it. He made a snowflake circle, let our breaths ice up right in front of us, he even made a little tornado out of icy air. “That’s beautiful.” I said stunned and when I looked at my hand I saw that Peter had let go of it. “Peter!” I froze in the movement, but he interrupted me. “Look! You’re doing this. You only needed a little help.” He smiled at me gently and suddenly let a snowball appear in his hands. “Now it’s time to have some fun!” He screamed out quickly throwing the ball at me. It shattered right when it touched my jacket. “You should take care of who you battle.” I said raising an eyebrow at him, an ironically troubled look appeared on his face and then we spent the rest of the day on Skull Rock, playing in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other, making snow angels, enjoying each others company. After a long time, when we arrived back at camp Peter sat down on the log next to me and handed a big cup of tea over to me. “Thank you.” I said smiling. He was holding a big blanket in his other hand and pulled me into his arms, the blanket wrapped around us. “You should know that I really love you.” He said as he kissed my head softly. I smiled. “I love you too.” I said putting my head on his shoulder, slowly fading into a deep sleep.

Dear Anon, I hope you enjoyed reading:) If something doesn’t fit with your imagine please message me and I’ll change it. Btw this was a beautiful request and I really enjoyed writing it. 

Those who face the ocean will always be in awe of the uncontrollable power of the waves and the swells, and the inexhorable, reassuring strength of the sea’s rhythm. However informed we may be of the nature of the sea in terms of modern science, it is difficult not to recall in some half-remembered way, deeply rooted ancestral beliefs in the personality of the ocean.
—  Facing the Ocean by Barry Cunliffe