uncontrolled powers

Klance Skyhigh AU

•Lance is skyhigh’s classclown but also the resident cool kid. literally. His ice powers are powerful but so well controlled, he can freeze your entire body with a snap of a finger.

•Ever since the Hero/Sidekick test, he’s gotten popular but always stuck to his bestfriends Hunk who can manipulate metal and Pidge who’s a powerful technopath.

•Shiro, the schools councilor and resident superman, decides to enroll his cousin Keith to help him train his uncontrollable fire powers. He goes to his friend (and crush) Allura for help.

•After Keith got his powers at age thirteen, he wasnt allowed to go to school anymore due to the school sprinklers always going off. He was homeschooled for three years in a burnproof room until Shiro was finally fed up that Keith was being treated like a wild animal that must be contained.

•Allura, the Head of Skyhigh, reqires Keith to undergo tests in the school labs to monitor his powers.

•Currently his control is so out of whack, he accidentally melts metal like its nothing but ice, sets things on fire depending on his emotions, he doesnt get burned but can accidentally burn someone at contact so he’s always fully clothed from head to toe.

•Because of this Allura assigns Lance into a buddy system with him. She’ll give Lance extra credit and tell him to be careful with Keith as he has only came out of a bad situation.

•Confident that he can do this, Lance’s initial introduction with Keith bursts into flames really quickly (and literaly) as Keith remembers that Lance was the classmate that always provoked Keith into accidentally burning something at school causing him to be isolated and drop out.

•Guilty and feeling like shit, Lance promises to help him and gets Hunk and Pidge into it. Helping him build heatproof gadgets to help Keith with his stress.

•As time goes by they get close and Keith is adopted into the circle of freinds. He wears less and less covers, getting rid of the mittens, beanie, the layer of fireproof longsleeve shirt. Lance is proud. (and also realizing underneath all those layers of clothes was just a cute angry kitten)

•Lance definitely helps him control his powers. He’s not as affected as the other students but in a bout of panic one day when Keith almost set their project on fire, he grabbed Keith’s hand to cool down the fire about to burst. It worked.

•So they agreed everytime Keith was about to burn something, Lance was there to hold his hand and calm him down… They didnt think it was gonna affect how much they were already gone for each other but ooh were they wrong.


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 

Klance Skyhigh AU part 2

(ok so a lot of people liked Skyhigh au wow. here’s some more if yall want)

•Since Lance is now in a buddy system with Keith, all his partners in all his classes that requires partners are replaced with Keith.

•Initially Lance hated it cos that pulled him away from his chances with Nyma, formerly his partner in the mad science lab, but soon discovers that with Keith as a partner he wont have trouble reheating the chemicals if he freezes them just a bit much.

•In the lab, the hand holding is frequent to prevent Keith from boiling their chemicals until it evporates into nothing within seconds.

•They get teased by Hunk and Pidge. Keith hates it but Lance is silently enjoying the deep blush his partner always get.

•Save the citizen test is always a problem tho because Keith always ends up burning the machines that would destroy the “citizen” and the stage.

•Turns out back to back is as effective as holding hands. While Keith is concentrating on melting the “blades of death” as Lance calls it. Lance goes into defense as he waits until he could freeze the floor and the melted metal until the citizen is lowered safely into harmless ice.

•Very unconventional but at least it got them to pass and they both practice long and hard together after for the next save the citizen test.

•Keith is amazing at being the villain. period. The minute Coach Boomer told him to go wild but dont burn them to death. Keith let out a maniacal laugh while attacking with fireballs lava and heat waves and Lance was at his side wondering why he had a crush on this weirdo.

•Lance’s favorite subject is professor Coran’s The minds of villains and heroes. He doesnt notice Keith getting uncomfortable when the subject of villains come up.

•But when he does he doesnt ask Keith about it until he remembers that both of Keith’s parents are villains but his mom went MIA years ago and his dad was still in prison. Holding hands gave a whole new meaning after that.

•Keith is still isolated at school. Everyone knows his origin and uncontrollable powers but that doesnt stop bullies from cornering him.

•When not with Lance, Keith gets taunted into using his powers, which he doesnt because he’s afraid of burning them alive. He accidentally burns one bully’s hand for grabbing his arm and a barrage of beatings came until Lance stopped it.

•Suffice to say Lance was LIVID. With Hunk and Pidge, he froze the bullies in ice blocks from neck to toe and left them to slowly slide closer to the edge of the school until they screamed and begged for forgiveness for hurting Keith. Pidge had it on live video. Hunk was levitating the giant metal screen so the whole school could watch.

•The PINING escalates from there. Keith is always talking about how good Lance is to him now to Shiro and Lance gets advice and shoulder pats from his best friends.

•Even when Keith got the hang of controlling his powers somewhat, he purposely makes “mistakes” so Lance would still hold his hand.

•Lance doesnt complain, doesnt chastise him, even holds his hand when he’s not setting something on fire, makes half assed excuse to do so and Keith just wholeheartedly goes with it while the two of them blushes like no tomorrow.

•Pidge and Hunk resists the urge to facepalm. It hurts to watch these two be idiots.


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

yellow-eyed-asshats said:May I request some more prompts of a protagonist with massively dangerous powers that they can’t control and it lashes out Please thanks :)  ///  Anonymous said:Some more prompts about that hero who has trouble controlling their powers would be great! Thank you! 

Anonymous said:So about this hero who has trouble controlling their powers and the villain trying to help them with it; 👌 // Anonymous said: could you do a few prompts about a rogue hero who is trying to kill the uncontrollable powered hero because they “are just as dangerous and unpredictable” as any other villain? Thank youuuu!

1) “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not leaving until you come home.”
The protagonist stared at them, wide-eyed, arms wrapped tight around themselves as they shook their head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” They took a step closer. “Because you’re dangerous? Everyone’s dangerous, it doesn’t make you special. Come home. Mum’s worried sick.” 

2) “I can’t control it.” They squeezed their eyes shut, shuddering. “Oh god, you have to help me.” But everyone only seemed to be backing away, their terror making it worse as the power spiked and roiled and felt like it might just rip them apart in the process. “Please, somebody.” Anybody…

3) “Isn’t it better in here?” the antagonist said. Where that power couldn’t be put to use against them either, threat all bubbled up and pretty. Looking back at them with such helpless desperation, searching for reassurance. “I’m not going to let you hurt anyone, I promise. You’re safe.”
“I’m scared.” 
“You’re powerless. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

4) “You said you’d help me-” The protagonist jerked on the spot. “You said you’d help me control it.” 
“No,” the antagonist said. “I said I could bring your powers under control, if you let me. And look at that - they’re under control.” They twirled a demonstrative finger. “Mine.” 

5) “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!”
“I know,” the other hero said. They advanced. “And you don’t want to hurt anyone now - so just surrender. Before someone dies.”
“You’ll kill me.” And, despite everything, they didn’t want to die. The power bubbled, revolted, at the very thought. God, they didn’t want to die. 
“This is how you end up on the wrong side. You’re dangerous, you need to be managed.”  

Malice in Wonderland - The 3 Scorpio Evolutions Scorpio is a deeply complex and fascinating sign. The musical ubiquity of Fixed fire and water fusing in Plutonian nuclear power exacerbates the intensity of an individual given potential to express three evolutionary levels of consciousness. The shadowy scorpion, high flowing eagle and transcendental phoenix represent multidimensional pillars in the Scorpio psyche and the reserves of energy. The ruler of Scorpio is Pluto, the Roman god of the underworld; associating this sign with dying, multiple ego death, reincarnation, occult studies, transformation and frequent personality overhauls. Looking back on their lives, Scorpio individuals see the resonant photographs of their former selves and shells of older characters. Not all Scorpio people manage to grow phoenix wings, or express the venomous scorpion features, and yet all Scorpio’s possess the indwelling potential to ascend into spiritual flight. Voices of ancestors, cryptic etheric imprints, residual past life trauma and fixed, frozen water line the Scorpio consciousness and develop organic, and seemingly inorganic processes that erupt from the subconscious. Before we are allowed to progress from Scorpio to Sagittarius, we are forced to wrestle the serpent in the Orphicus constellation through the Ascelpius cradle, the healing child of Chiron, suggesting an evolutionary healing process and the acquisition of cryptic universal secrets are the tools for cosmic combat and the passageway through to the Sagittarian light.

The characteristics of the lower evolved scorpion individual are more widely recognised and seemingly more pronounced throughout society. This could relate to the mainstream media’s fascination with dismal, questionable personalities and frequent reports on crime and injustice that illuminate the darker shade of human consciousness. Anger, aggression, destructive defense mechanisms, malice and jealousy are scorpion characteristics which may spill into illegal and contemptuous activity. There tends to be an overwhelming, uncontrollable desire for power and a strong resistance to suppressive figures or moral authority. The scorpion traditionally represents the animal crawling low along the earth but having its sting on automatic reflex. Many examples of scorpion energies are found in politics and corporate looting where the Mars influence strangles water. Tony Abbott, the Prime Minister of Australia is a classic exemplification of the lowest evolved Scorpio. His years as opposition leader tugged politics into a murkier low when attacks on the government targeted character and deceived the public into falsely voting for the opposition. During the a hung parliament when trying to win the votes of the independents, Abbott informed member Tony Windsor, “ I would do anything for this job. The only thing I wouldn’t do is sell my arse, but I’d have to give serious thought to it.” His policies are frequently dismantled to suit corporate interests and act under the investment of bodies who promised the lure of power. Tony Abbott is an example of a Scorpio who sold his soul for a taste of power. There maybe altruistic pangs to improve humanity, though many will attain their authoritative position and have no plans to implement a better collective change. Kundalini energy may be directed to its lowest form of sexual promiscuity or aggression. There may be a desire for immortality, and a reactive and nebulous fear of death.

The Scorpio eagle has managed to ascend beyond some of the Mars fire, although the shadowy side still makes its presence known. The eagle has developed insight to the darker aspect of his personality and makes a conscious effort to dissociate the two from each other. There are resounding business, political and justice seeking energies here although practices may cross into unethical territory. The eagle wrangles with the scorpion paranoia and intrinsic distrust of society at large. Most people are viewed as being potential harmful and fierce psychological defense mechanisms are erupted in self protection. Life’s mysteries, universal laws, life, death and the occult are alluring fascinations and both white and black magic may be experimented with. The eagle begins to take flight and harness the deep profound Pluto energies, the feminine wisdom of water and develop a soaring eyed view of the world. The intrinsic urges to merge with others on a deeper level than the physical begins transpiring, and the awareness of a psychic relation between others develops. While the scorpion may be concerned about primal sex needs void of intimacy, the eagle desires a deeper, emotional communion. They will typically strike without warning, indulge in some sleuth activity and negotiate dark impulses when it comes to justice seeking and neutralizing society’s imbalance.

In their travels through forbidden realms, the divine Scorpio phoenix has experienced multiple ego death across his lifetime. The stinging scorpion and shaky eagle has metamorphised into an illuminated, transcendent healing force that can transform anyone in their presence. The universal symbol of medicine; the double snake encircled under wings is a reflection of the Scorpio phoenix and the transcendent healing potentials. Plutonian energy relates to X-Rays, pharmaceuticals, etheric healing, natural sorcery and herbal medicine. The occult wisdom of centuries is conveyed through their incredible empathy and rich, mystical inner life. The phoenix is aware of his vengeful, shadow side and has swallowed the demons to give him power, a greater power, the one he has realised stems only from, and to, love. This is the embodiment of destruction becoming the highest form of creation, where they rise from the ashes of their own obliteration and claim a new life blood. Scorpio phoenix individuals can reach meditative trance states, gifts of prophecy, astral travel and psychic awareness; and many become acclaimed spiritual healers, clairvoyants and travelers who scatter their healing light and love across humanity. I know a Scorpio phoenix who runs a renowned corporate business and remains a charming, kind and engaged employer. As soon as he finishes work, he rips of his business suit, practices meditative bonding with this partner and goes off to teach a class on sun salutation and tai chi. He channels his volatile intensity into scattering his divine wisdom about life and death and promoting interpersonal warmth amongst humanity. You really get the feeling there is so much light just bursting within the surface, and he lives quite a conservative daily life with a rich, personal night spirit. The phoenix is largely concerned with universal mysteries, investigating magic and their contribution of humanity. They are aware of god indwelling, the divine force firing within them and negotiate their potential with this power. Phoenix Scorpio are survivors. Emotionally, they may perish in the ashes of their own destructive nature, but they can also fly and erupt into the most beautiful, soul glowing shooting star.

In the gardens

Pairing: T’Challa x Reader

Warnings: Angsty-ish, bit of fluff.

A/N: I am taking so long with requests but bear it with me, would you? Feedback <3

Originally posted by buchanstan

Ever since Steve’s team arrived into Wakanda, they seemed to be a lot better; well, everyone except for one. (Y/N) was quiet by nature, but after everything that happened, and the people she had lost because of the men’s stubbornness, she decided to build up the highest walls so no one could reach to her.

Her powers had caused terrible damage, and she promised herself to not use them anymore; she was not completely in control of them, and it almost seemed like they controlled her sometimes. The only place where she could unravel them and feel completely free from her fears were the gardens, but they were usually full of people and full of the king’s servants who were kind enough to ask if everything was alright.

One day, as she started wandering, she found a spot that hadn’t been taken care of in quite a while. It was calling her name, and feeling her protective instinct blossoming once again, she went every day for over a month just to take care of the plants that there laid withering. (Y/N) was not at home, and she was most certainly not safe, but that portion of land somehow needed her as much as she needed it. She moved things around with her powers, feeling completely in control of her telekinesis for once in her life. And she even created a small pond with her element-control. Only her part of the gardens could bring a smile to her heart.

She was often seen carrying a book and running away, not even the few teammates she still had in Wakanda could get more from her than a greeting, and the king himself started to wonder what she did all day and why she pushed everyone away.

Until he discovered her little secret. T’Challa found her sitting on a stone little bench she had made all by herself. It was still a bit rough, but comfortable enough to sit there for a while. He cleared his throat to let her know there was somebody with her.

“Mind if I sit?” T’Challa asked as he pointed at the empty space next to (Y/N). She nodded silently and he sat down. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No—king T’Challa—you—” she stammered—“I was just—nothing.” She shook her head and fell silent again, trying to focus her sight on the book, but she couldn’t help but to look at him from the corner of her eye. The man was not only beautiful, but in his presence she felt tiny, and somehow, safe again.

T’Challa cleared his throat and began again. “You know, I’ve always liked this side of the gardens, ever since I was a child; whenever there was some sort of royal happening, I used to run all the way here and my mother would find me somehow.” He sounded absentminded, but in his mind one thought wandered, and it wasn’t even the reminiscence of his favorite childhood memories, but he was trying to imagine how it would be if (Y/N) smiled; he was most certain that he had never seen her like that. “It always felt like an escape. My father didn’t even knew about the immensity of his own palace…” he chuckled, “so how did you discover this?”

“I just started walking and… I got here.” She shrugged. None of them looked at one another, but (Y/N) could feel how fixated he was on her. “The plants needed some help.”

“I think I could hire you as the gardener, would you like that?”

“If it means I can stay here…” she turned her head to face him, “I would.”

“You know… I’ve asked around for you, but the others said you were not talking to them,” (Y/N) bit her bottom lip almost immediately, “may I know the reason why?”

“I just don’t know what I could say to them…” She shrugged. “My mother used to tell me that if I didn’t have anything nice to say, then I’d better keep quiet.”

“Don’t you think that’s a harsh thing to say to a daughter?” He pointed out.

“My mother…” she started, “she was not the kindest woman alive,” she gave him a quick look, “but it doesn’t matter, she’s not among the living anymore.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…” he gulped. “And were the Avengers somehow like a family to you?”

“They were the closest thing I had to a family, and it ended up just like the first one, and probably just as bloody.” (Y/N) pursed her lips in a thin line. “You know, when I was at school nobody really liked me, and not only because I wasn’t popular. People feared me; kids feared me because at kindergarten I spoke to a dying plant and it seemed to come to live again.” She giggled, but it sounded more like a heavy sigh. “Then, things around the house flew for no apparent reason, and that was when my parents started to fear me too and so I ran away.” Her voice seemed to crack, so she remained silent a few seconds before clearing her throat and starting again. “There were some people looking for me, bad people, and they got to my parents because they were the closest thing to me. They died because of me, because I wasn’t there to protect them.” She inhaled sharply and shook her head. “Then SHIELD found me and I became an avenger. I had a family again, a terribly dysfunctional one because let’s face it, none of them knew how to have a family. We were the outcasts, the weird ones. I felt at home but… It didn’t last long.” She looked at her hands and hid them inside her sleeves. “The things I love never last for long, mainly because I destroy them.”

“I’m sorry…” The king softly said. He looked at her and to his eyes, she had never looked more vulnerable, but it wasn’t the vulnerability that meant weakness; not at all. This vulnerability made her so transparent, like a fragile glass, just a stone away from breaking into a million pieces. She looked very differently from how she did in The Raft, where she looked utterly terrified. (Y/N) allowed her walls to fall apart just enough to let him know why she tried to shut everyone away. But her walls started to build quickly up, and before T’Challa could say something, she was slowly walking away.

He followed her and grabbed her hand, trying to make her turn around. Her (Y/E/C) eyes were getting watery, and a rosy color tried to take over her cheeks. He didn’t know what to do, or if what he was about to do was ok, but he went along with it, and taking a deep breath, his hand went up to (Y/N)’s cheek and gently stroke it. She trembled under his touch and in T’Challa’s mind, the worst fears played.

“Don’t do this, T’Challa.” She mumbled. “Get away from me before it’s too late.” She tried to free herself from his grip. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“How about you let me decide if I want to get hurt or not?” He softly asked, not wanting to let go of her. “And how about you come out of your bedchamber to socialize? I’ll be hosting a party at the palace in two nights, and I’d love to take you as my date.”

“I don’t even have a dress.” (Y/N) stuttered.

“I’m quite sure Ms. Maximoff can handle that for both of us.” He leaned in to kiss (Y/N)’s cheek and bowed his head before saying his goodbyes.

“T’Challa, wait!” She screamed, running her way up to him; who, with long steps, had already gotten a few meters away. “I haven’t even said yes.”

“Well,” he smiled, “I will go by your room in two days and if you’re wearing pajamas, then I’ll know you’ve turned down my invitation.” T’Challa took (Y/N)’s hand and lifted it enough to kiss it, looking straight into her eyes.

And two days from then, King T’Challa knocked on (Y/N)’s golden doors, only to be welcomed by one of the maidens that was in charge of her. Inside the dormitory, Wanda was finishing the last details of (Y/N)’s dress. The king couldn’t help to smile at the sight of such a beautiful woman. She wore a long, navy blue dress that even though it was not tight, it still held on to her curves perfectly. She turned around, almost in slow motion, and smiled back at the dark complexioned man that so fondly looked at her.

She looked like a dream come true; like his own little piece of heaven was on earth, right in front of his very eyes.

“You’re gorgeous,” T’Challa said in amusement, “and you look gorgeous too.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, your highness.” (Y/N) smiled as she bowed her head.

They walked together through the hallway that lead to the big ballroom where a lot of people had gathered for a celebration that (Y/N) was not aware of. The couple greeted some of the guests and everyone kept mentioning how gorgeous T’Challa’s companion was. She did not feel afraid of hurting anybody, because having him by her side was enough to keep her mind occupied. She was very grateful for his ministrations to her, and she wouldn’t have enough life to thank him for everything he had done.

Not only he managed to make her speak of her past, but she also felt like she had a friend, someone she could really count on, and (Y/N) appreciated that the most.

Once the greetings and protocol salutes were over, the two were offered a glass of champagne to start the night; (Y/N) was not a drinker, and mostly because of her uncontrolled powers, she declined the drink as asked for some water instead.

“You never told me what you’re celebrating.” (Y/N) mentioned at the table. They were sitting together, and in order to speak to him, she had to lean in closer. T’Challa shivered lightly at the feeling of her breath close to his skin.

“It’s my father’s birthday today,” he explained, “and it’s a tradition to remember the birthdays of a king or a queen. I suppose mine will be remembered one day.” He replied with a soft smile. (Y/N) corresponded the smile with a soft giggle. “Hey! You’re smiling, that’s a progress.”

“I have a good reason to smile tonight.” She conceded. “You know, I never met your father… but he sure as hell did a great job bringing you up.” She sighed. “You’re a great man, T’Challa, and you’re going to be an even greater king.” T’Challa smiled nervously; he was used to receive compliments about his duty as the new king of Wakanda, but if they came from (Y/N)’s lips, the compliments felt a hundred times better and it made his heart beat faster than ever. “I don’t think I can thank you enough for taking me out of my bedroom… I had forgotten how it felt to be with people, like real people.” She shook her head and giggled. Then, she leaned her head on T’Challa’s shoulder and felt how he tenderly kissed her hair.

“Shall we dance?” He asked, after a moment in silence.

The musicians started to play a slow tune, perfect for a romantic dance. The two stood up and headed for the center of the dance-floor. For the first time, (Y/N) felt extremely nervous and self-conscious around the king. There had never been that little space between them; not even at the Leipzig airport, and not even when they were all rescued from The Raft. She shivered when his big hand softly placed on the small of her back, not too low, but not up high. She took a deep breath before relaxing again and taking the hand that he offered.

When she looked up, she could’ve sworn T’Challa’s eyes were in the shape of a heart. He looked down at her and smiled when he found she was looking at him. He looked away with a winner grin and he led the slow movements of their bodies.

“Is there a special person you left back home?” He softly asked.

“No, I didn’t.” (Y/N) replied in a defeated voice. “Love has not been good with me. I told you, I hurt everyone I love.” She quickly looked away. “I just don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for someone. I mean just look at me—”

“I am,” T’Challa cut her off, “and I have done it for a while… and I have to say it; you’re the most gorgeous woman that I’ve ever seen.”

“You’re just saying it to make me feel better.” (Y/N) shook her head in disbelief.

“I wish I did—” T’Challa let go of her hand and placed it on her cheek, cupping it gently—“but I’m not. It’s hard to put it into words, especially with this many people around us, but you’re good enough for me, and you’re so, so good that I believe I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you, (Y/N).”

“I—I… I just don’t know what to say.” She stammered. “T’Challa—I—”

“You needn’t say a thing,” he assured her, nodding his head once, “just promise me you’ll never say something like you’re not good enough again. You are good enough, you’re more than good enough, and you don’t hurt the people you love, and you have my word about it.”

Out of a sudden, T’Challa felt brave enough to lean in and gently press his lips on hers before she could argue any more. It didn’t take long for her to realize what the blabbering was about; she wasn’t really sure if she felt the same, or even if she was able to feel something for somebody again, but the safety his arms, walls and gates provided were more than enough to make her consider giving that leap of faith.

“T’Challa, I need you to hear me out on this one.” She pulled away from him. “This is not easy for me, and I… I don’t know if I feel the same about you.”

“I will not push you into something you don’t want.” He assured. “Set the boundaries and I’ll respect them. I like you, but I want you to be happy, even if it means without me.”

“And what if that’s exactly it?”

“We’ll figure that out together, then.” He leaned in, but instead of kissing her lips, T’Challa kissed her forehead as they kept dancing.

anonymous asked:

Can you tell us more about your night elf character?

Oh boy, oh boy! :D I sure can!

1. Her druidic abilities came a lot later in life than most people. No one in her family had druidic tendencies. Her plan was to become an assistant to an herbalist and eventually run her own shop but that changed the day her magic kicked in.

2. The druid elders hadn’t seen a case like Faeb’s before and were unsure at first what to do with her. They asked Meldris Sageheart, aka Mel, to become her mentor and monitor her progress as well as catch her up on the centuries of teachings she had missed. 

3. Having uncontrolled druidic power is a dangerous thing, so she was immediately enrolled by Mel in a local druidic school…with kids. There she learned the basics like making seeds sprout and how to cast rejuvenation on a sick animal. Shapeshifting classes will have to come a bit later, those are advanced haha. 

4. When she was given G’hanir by Lyessa Bloomwatcher in Legion there was an uproar in the druidic community. No one could possibly be less qualified to wield the powerful artifact, and many elders gave their heated opinions on the situation. Mel’s job has become exponentially harder for now she not only has to train a druid with no particular knowledge or skill, but she has to help shape her into a leader that can stand against the Legion. 

little all too well things
  • the first line is ‘i walked through the door with you’ which to me is so interesting because this image of crossing the threshold suggests them both bravely entering something new together
  • ‘the air was cold but something ‘bout it felt like home somehow’ is kind of sad don’t you think??? i have always wondered if the cold air feels like home because she’s been treated so coldly in the past??
  • and if we take it that way then the fact that she left her ‘scarf there at your sister’s house’ is like taylor giving up her defenses against the cold way the world has treated her in order to trust him
  • and he still has it in his drawer even now??? she gave away her defenses against the coldness of the world and she never got them back!!! he left her vulnerable.
  • like i mentioned in a previous post taylor uses cars and travelling as a metaphor for relationships of different kinds so them ‘singing in the car getting lost upstate’ suggests how comfortable they felt in their relationship and how long term they thought it was going to be 
  • autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place is like a punch in the face every single time because to me it means ‘when i saw all of nature dying and coming to an end it reminded me of us’ what a thing to say wow their relationship was blossoming but now is decaying and they are spiraling uncontrollably???? what a powerful image!!!
  • again with the car metaphors ‘you almost ran the red ‘cause you were looking over at me’ seems to suggest how they almost ignored all the warnings signs that they needed to end their relationship because they were so caught up in each other
  • i feel like the phrase ‘i was there’ is so important in this song because it shows the distance that taylor feels from the relationship now like it’s not ‘wind in my hair, i am there’ because it’s impossible to revisit those moments and live in them again
  • alternatively i feel like maybe it’s ‘i was there’ because it was her ‘old self’ that she mentions later who had all those beautiful lovely memories and she is not that girl anymore she ‘was’ but not now
  • i always thought that the description of ‘a little kid in glasses in a twin size bed’ is so sweet because it emphasises how big and lonely everything seemed when he was younger and how much growing he had to do
  • ‘you taught me ‘bout your past thinking your future was me’ is also so cute because he is teaching her so she can take over and write his future in the best possible way??? he is literally trusting her with his entire future???
  • ‘lost in translation’ is a beautiful way of saying that they could not communicate with each other but to me it has always meant that they could not adapt to each other’s worlds without losing an essential part of themselves much like when a book is adapted for film for example 
  • now for my favourite line of the whole song okay ‘but maybe this thing was a masterpiece before you tore it all up’ is so interesting because it brings into question beauty and value and whether something is only beautiful for as long as you can own it and it is tangible, like an old famous painting, for example, or whether it remains valuable and precious long after it is destroyed because it is the thoughts and people it inspired that had true value. this idea is revisited in sad beautiful tragic when taylor seems to decide that something can be beautiful and ruined simultaneously and that things do not cease to be beautiful when they are over (just like those autumn leaves falling earlier in the song)
  •  this song is just full of powerful images and ‘a crumpled up piece of paper lying there’ is so interesting because a piece of blank paper holds so many possibilities it is literally a symbol of untapped potential so the idea of her being a crumpled up piece of paper suggests all that potential between them being discarded all those pages of their love story that will now forever remain unwritten
  • this is a tiny thing but the repetition in the line that follows of ‘but i remember it all, all, all… too well’ just to me feels like taylor being trapped in the moment unable to move forwards to the next word and mirrors her being trapped in her grief about this relationship
Take Me Back to the Stars

Inspired by this prompt.

How can you miss something so badly you were never meant to have? How can you miss something that’s created a monster? Or maybe it was the monster who created the hole. (The Mage.)

Sometimes Simon had trouble breathing. Because of the mistakes he made, because of the mayhem he caused, because of the blood and the tears and the fire.

Because of how much he had loved it. Magic. Magic. The word alone felt powerful on his tongue.

There was a time when Simon had been on top of the world. When he was the most powerful magician alive. Now he was not even a magician. But it wasn’t the power that had drawn him to the magic; it was his safe space, the thing Simon was always able to rely on.

And now it’s gone. And it was never mine to begin with.

Sometimes Simon thought of himself as a thief who had stolen magic from others for years. And when he couldn’t breathe any more, there was something else protecting him. Baz was his safe space now and he knew that Baz would never let him down. Being with Baz felt like magic to him, but it wasn’t the same thing and Simon would always have to live with that guilt.

So by now Simon had come to terms with the lack of magic in his life. He had come to think, even, that perhaps this was his punishment (and it was a mere punishment at that). That didn’t mean he wouldn’t miss it forever, so strongly it tore his heart out every time he spared it a thought. The wonderful memory left the bitter aftertaste of the stinging truth that he would never get it back.

But maybe sometimes the universe gives mercy to the pitiful. And perhaps there was justice in the universe after all. Because even though Simon Snow himself didn’t think so, he was just a boy after all, who had made some mistakes. A boy who had no control as to who he was and a boy who didn’t deserve a fate like that.

So one day, when grass had finally grown over the ruins in Simon’s mind and he felt at peace with himself and the world and was able to look into the future, everything around him shifted a little and he was awoken by something familiar, yet new.

No. It can’t be. Can it?
Baz moved next to him, a bit drowsy. Then he sensed something in the air and sat up straight.

“Is it burning?” he asked. “Have you left the stove on or something?”

His voice alarmed and he looked around in panic, but there was nothing. It was just Simon who was glowing, radiating from warmth.

“Baz,” Simon said, voice caught up in his throat. “I can feel it.”

Concern glinted in Baz’ eyes. But Simon was getting more sure of himself. He felt it prickling under his skin. Only really slightly, but it was still there. It was tickling him, but it was hesitant, like it was knocking on the door and asking for permission to come in.


Simon was searching for words. He didn’t want to say it. He thought, for a second, if he said it, it wouldn’t be true. It would just vanish and he would think it was nothing more than a dream. If he said it out loud, it would sound silly. But as he sat beside Baz in their bed, it felt real. And it was like taking a first breath after being under water for a really long time.

Simon had been drowning for so long. Perhaps the moment had finally come where he could breathe again, live again. He knew now that he could survive without magic, that it didn’t define him. But he had always felt like a part of him had been missing. A gaping hole inside his heart. A hole doesn’t want to get bigger. It wants to be filled.

Baz softly grabbed Simon’s hand to soothe him.
Simon’s thoughts started racing. What does this mean? Am I dreaming? Have I gone crazy? Or maybe – can it really be? Is it true – is? Have I? But- no. This is not- is it? It feels the same, but so different. Is it back? But if that’s really true, does that mean the humdrum is back? Am I destroying things again? If so, I have to get rid of this as quickly as possible. I can’t do this. I can’t harm anyone. But maybe? Maybe it isn’t what I think it is. It doesn’t feel so powerful, so uncontrollable, like it did before. It feels just – right. Really, really right. Please, just let it be true. Just give me this.

“I think- I think my magic is coming back,” Simon said disbelievingly. Baz drew in a sharp breath.

“You mean-”

Baz carefully pressed his palm against Simon’s.

“Holy shit.”

“Can you feel that?!”

“I- Yes.”

“It feels different than it used to. Do you think this means the humdrum is back? Do we have to stop him?”
“I don’t think it is. Listen, I’ve- I’ve actually thought about this for a while but didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to get your hopes up, but… Remember that Penny’s dad told us that the holes in the magical atmosphere had almost all filled up again? I was thinking – hoping – that when it had everywhere fully returned, it would return to you, too. And perhaps that’s what this is. Maybe you’re getting back now what’s yours.”
“But magic doesn’t belong to me! I’m a normal. I’m not a magician.”
“How would you know?”
“I’m an orphan. Magicians don’t give up their children because magic is too precious.”
“But what if your parents died? What if they did? There’s nothing stopping them. Anything could have happened to your parents.”
“I don’t think this is right. I don’t think I’m meant to have this. I don’t think I-”

Tears started rolling down Simon’s cheeks and he was breaking down quietly. Inside, he exploded like a spaceship, where sound doesn’t travel. But it hurt all the same.

Because just then he was admitting it to himself. It might have felt right, but that didn’t mean it was.

“Simon,” Baz spoke softly. “Look at me.”
Simon was burning on the inside because he knew that all along when he had been missing his magic, it wasn’t rightful. It was his punishment.

“Look at me, please.”
Simon was never meant to have magic in the first place. It was what he- what he-

He looked up and Baz glanced at him with determination.

“Now listen. I know what you’re thinking. But you are wrong. You deserve this, Simon. More than anyone. More than anything.”
Simon wanted to look away, but Baz held him back.

“Hey. I know you, right? You can trust me. So please, Simon, trust me, when I tell you this. If I’m right, if you get your magic back, that’s awesome. You are awesome. I’m here for you. This is yours, Simon. It’s yours.”

And Simon’s silent cries became loud ones when he pushed himself against Baz, who took him in his arms and held him tight as Simon sobbed. They sat there like that and minutes passed. Baz waited until Simon had calmed down and he felt him relax in his arms.
“Do you want to try a spell? Just an easy one, to see if you can do it.”
“Just if you feel ready.”

“I think I do.”

“Just start with a first year spell. I don’t know, spell you clothing clean or something. I- I’m gonna get your wand.”

They had still kept it, hidden in the bedside drawer. Just in case.

Simon cleared his throat and pointed the wand at the dirty jacket that laid in the corner of the room.
Clean as a whistle!”

He felt the magic under his skin burning but it was a nice feeling. And the jacket appeared clean. It had worked. Simon let out a surprised laugh. It had actually worked.

“It’s a miracle, Baz.”

And Baz grinned at him, widely, and hugged him again. He was happy.

I thought I’d never stop feeling sorry for him. Because he’d lost his magic. The thing most important to him.

And together they laughed, and laughed, and laughed, because it seemed unbelievable. Like a joke. Ridiculous. Impossible. A miracle. Luck. And when did they ever get lucky?

The next day, the magic felt stronger and Simon was able to do more and trickier spells. And it was all so different to the way it was before. Baz told him that he had always been frightened by Simon’s power. That he had always thought he was going to burn some day. And that wasn’t the case any more. Simon still wondered where the catch was. But the humdrum never appeared. The magical atmosphere seemed stable.

A week later, Simon was able to cast “Up, up, and away” on the leaves in the garden. A month later, he was able to do fifth year spells. Piece by piece, the magic came back to him and filled the hole inside of him. And it felt indeed like it belonged there.

And one day, Simon woke up and magic was a part of him again.

“Do you think you could still do it?” Baz asked him that day.

Nervously, Baz grabbed both of his hands and eyed Simon anxiously.

“Of course.”
Simon squeezed Baz hands and then he tried to push.

“Can you feel that?”
“Holy shit.”
“Should we say it together?”
“Okay. On the count of three.”

Twinkle, twinkle, little star

They held their breath. And then, all out of a sudden, the world disappeared around them. And instead there were millions and billions of stars.

“I can’t believe it, Baz. How is this still possible?”
“Maybe it wasn’t the humdrum who was responsible for this. Maybe it was you.”
“I suppose we were always more powerful together.”
“You know what this means?”
“You and I, we belong together.”
“I know.”
“And you know what else? You deserve this, Simon. You deserve the universe laid out at your feet. You deserve to have magic. You deserve the world, and if I could, I would give it to you. So you can have what I am able to give you. This,” he said and kissed Simon carefully. Then he placed his hand on his own heart. “And all of this.”

Author’s Note: To anyone who feels insecure about themselves, who thinks they are not enough, who thinks it’s their fault: You deserve this. You deserve to live. You deserve to be happy. You got this. I’m proud of you. Please believe in yourself.

The First Deal

Mabel woke up silently, for once in her life. No over-exaggerated yawning, or immediately leaping up to bounce on the bed, or loudly greeting the day and every single object and person in sight. She just… woke up.

She blinked her eyes open, her gaze resting on the ceiling of the attic she had come to know as her new home, then immediately flopped her head onto its side on the pillow to look over to her sibling, who hovered just above his own bed on the other end of the room. His bed was unmade, but she knew it was only because they hadn’t touched it since the last time Dipper properly slept there. Somehow, it felt like they hadn’t spent the night up here together in weeks when only a few long, long days had passed.

Her twin was wearing the same outfit (sans hat) that he’d basically worn all summer–so far, it seemed, much like a ghost, his appearance was permanently affixed to the vest-and-shorts attire he’d worn when they faced a certain triangle for the final time. Gravity, apparently, could act on his clothes, considering how they hung off him as he floated, but nothing else in this reality. His eyes stared intently at the ceiling, and one of those new appendages attached at his lower back twitched the slightest bit every few seconds. The tiny wings were rather adorable, even though they looked far too much like a bat’s and they were just limply hanging off of him as he laid in the air. Of course, she’d prefer if they weren’t there at all, because Dipper wasn’t supposed to have little wings. Nor was he supposed to be floating. Nor sporting a permanently black sclera in his eyes darker than her worst nightmares and a piercing, burning gold for pupils.

Lots of things were wrong here. Impossible things.

Yet… well, if she was waking up now, and it appeared that none of this was a horrifying dream after all, then they’d have to accept it.

(Fully accepting was likely going to take a while.)

“Hey, Mabel,” Dipper muttered, not even bothering to glance over to her.

“Hey, Dips,” she replied quietly, dropping her gaze from him to his unmade bed. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“…I don’t think I’m able to s̨l͘e̶ep̀ anymore.” She’d heard a little bit of the new echo in his voice that time, and she tried to not shudder at it.

They continued in their respective positions for another minute or two, the air thick.

Before Mabel could think the question over completely, she asked, “What were you doing, then?” After all, the circles around his eyes made him look exactly like that one time he literally spent the whole night reading mystery novels. He wouldn’t look like that right now (even after the… transformation he endured, which must’ve been excruciatingly painful) if he didn’t need sleep to begin with, right?

Dipper winced, and her heart dropped to her stomach, desperately hoping that whatever part of that that was the wrong thing to say wouldn’t hurt him too much.

“You wanna go see if Grunkle Stan’s up?” he asked back, not-so-tactfully changing the subject and not sounding as nonchalant as he had probably tried for. She merely nodded and crawled her way out from under her blankets. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this exhausted; honestly, how did their grunkle expect them to get a decent amount of sleep after all of that?

She couldn’t help but notice that Dipper was being oh-so-careful to not actually touch the bed or the floor as he slid down. His sneakers still floated about half an inch over the wood boards. He was probably afraid of trying to touch things in the high likelihood that he’d merely go right through them. She couldn’t blame him.

She patted down her purple polka-dot pajama pants, then held out her hand to him, pasting on a little smile. He returned the smile gratefully and grasped her hand with his own, taking heed to not prick her with those new claw things at the ends of his fingers. (A thought flew through her mind, tutting that they’d be much less menacing if she painted them pink. That made her smile a little more genuine.)

She led him out and down the stairs- ignoring how he got a little lazier and floated along without actually moving his legs- and paused once they had reached the first floor.

Still holding hands, they peered into the kitchen. There sat Grunkle Stan nursing a steaming mug of coffee, looking every bit his age, yet not caring and drinking more watered-down burnt beans than he should.


Stan happened to glance up and noticed them- well, really, only Mabel, but it was a safe assumption to say that Dipper was likely right next to her- once they’d been there for almost a full minute. He did his usual morning greeting- a rather gross-sounding grunt- and took a long sip out of his mug. Mabel took the invitation and walked further into the kitchen, gripping something invisible in her hand- yep, that must’ve been her twin.

“Whaddya want for breakfast? We’ve still got some cereal, or I can whip up some Stan-cakes and eggs-”

Mabel glanced over to the side before interrupting him. “Um, we’re not really hungry.”

“Me neither,” Stan admitted, “but I still gotta feed you kids. It’s kinda part of my job as your grunkle, and breakfast’s the most important meal of the day, and all that crap.” He set his mug down on the table and leaned back on his chair with a weary sigh. “I wanna be able to say I at least did that when your parents get here.”

“What?” Mabel cried out. “Why are they coming?”

“Gravity Falls made its way into national news as the center of all the weird that started everywhere.” That’s one of the first things he learned when Mark and Anna were finally able to get a call through the incredibly busy phone lines; though he was unsurprised by the fact, he couldn’t have found out on his own, since the TV currently didn’t work. “No one outside the town actually understands what happened, of course, but I get why your folks are scared.” He sunk further down and rested the back of his head on the top edge of his chair, folding his arms over his stomach. “Though I’m glad they had the decency to call first, I’m really not looking forward to them screaming at me.”

Mabel’s face somehow looked even more distraught. “Do they think all of this is your fault?! That’s so unfair! You didn’t do anything wrong!” Goosebumps ran up the arm grasping air; everyone had figured out rather quickly that Dipper’s presence caused a chill, especially when he was upset.

“Actually, I did everything wrong,” he corrected, coming off harsher than he intended. “And I’m not enough of a coward to not admit that some of this is my fault. Though they’re probably never going to talk to me again after, if they can help it, nor let you two stay here.” He looked up to Mabel’s face and the space where Dipper’s surely was, then picked back up his coffee and muttered halfheartedly, “Good riddance.”

When he took a few more sips of his coffee, then realized that the twins were still standing in the exact same spot, the visible one wearing the exact same facial expression, he relented on what he had said before. “Alright, I’ll let you two off without breakfast just this once, but don’t tell anyone.”

Mabel gave a microscopic nod, likely answering for both of them, and shuffled away towards the living room.

He took a deep breath once she was out of sight, and considered getting yet another cup of coffee, when she meekly reappeared.

“Dipper wanted to know when they’ll get here.”

Stan grunted out a response. “Eh, probably late today or early tomorrow. That’s if there isn’t too much panicking going on on the roads, though.”

She nodded yet again- man, he was not used to her lack of loudness and enthusiasm- and walked back out.

Frankly, though, he couldn’t blame her for acting out-of-character. He couldn’t deny that he was, too.

Stanley Pines was never scared, no matter what name and identity he went by. Yet, somehow, he was scared now- for Dipper, for Mabel, for all the people in the world who now would suffer the presence of demons (that weren’t awkward and dorky like Dipper, because that kid couldn’t possibly become as evil as Bill and his friends, he was physically and mentally incapable of such inhumanity, he was sure of it)… and, if he was being really honest, for himself.

(An old man was allowed to secretly wish he could be with his grandniece and grandnephew for a little longer, right? Even if he knew that he had screwed up their lives far beyond repair, just like he did to his brother? And couldn’t do absolutely anything about it except ask for forgiveness? Forgiveness that even Ford wasn’t quite willing to give him yet?)

Stan bowed his head over his mug, which only contained a few last drops of black clinging to ceramic, the strong perfume of coffee not helping him as much as he pretended it did throughout his lengthy, disappointment-filled lifetime.


Mabel wasn’t sure anymore if being in the living room was any better than the kitchen, where the food that Dipper couldn’t eat (in his current condition, at least) sat there and mocked him. Here, his own just-barely-obtained and uncontrolled powers spat in his face.

The room was still drained and in disarray from when Dipper had appeared, realized what he’d become, and had a bit of a… meltdown, for lack of a better term (though Mabel wished she could come up with a word that sounded a lot nicer). The top half of the walls had lost their color, which had dripped down and puddled on the floor. The windows and TV screen had cracked, and currently stood about one puff of air away from completely shattering. Stuffing poked out from the marred and shredded couch cushions. There were wrappers, cheese puffs, and chips lying on the floor and every other available surface, but that part honestly wasn’t much different from before.

The lightbulb had been the first thing to explode when Dipper… yeah. There was plenty of sunlight streaming in through the severely damaged window glass, though, due to the time of day, so it wouldn’t have been needed, anyways.

If Mabel hadn’t valiantly swooped into action when he had started the… well, there really wasn’t a better word for it, was there? The room would probably be in a much worse state without her immediate action to calm her brother down then.

(They all knew he could probably fix all of this to look and function like before with a deal, but no one was about to make him do demony things yet, or make him feel any worse about his newly-infused inhumanity, especially Dipper himself.)

She trudged to the old, beaten-up couch and dropped into it like a heavy stone, and he mimicked the gesture on the adjacent couch cushion, again preventing himself from actually touching it, never letting go of her hand.

Her stomach chose to gurgle at her a few seconds later, calling for attention.

Both twins jerked their line of sight towards the growl in surprise. Mabel quickly got over the unexpected noise disrupting their silence- though, honestly, it should’ve been expected- and frowned at her belly, as if it offended her. “Quiet, you.”

She heard a subtle snicker next to her. She glanced over to see that Dipper was wearing the tiniest smile at the sight of his sister scolding her stomach. His hand had even warmed the slightest bit. Her own lip twitched up in response, pleased to see his mood brighten a little.

Her stomach released an even louder groan that sounded something like Waddles trying to meow.

Both burst into giggles, which quickly grew into cackling laughter louder than all of the patterns on Mabel’s many sweaters combined, because things became hilarious when you were tired and your life had officially gone off the deep-end into permanent demonic territories less than 24 hours ago and you were now scared of things that were much more terrifying than claymation movies and ancient teddy bears, and they only became funnier when Grunkle Stan started shouting from the kitchen to keep it down because he was certainly going to get deafer at this rate.

Neither even noticed that Dipper’s laughter sounded a lot harsher and closer to demented than it used to.

When they finally calmed down into sporadic chuckles, Dipper’s attention returned to why they started in the first place- apparently, Mabel was very hungry. “You, uh, sure you don’t wanna eat?” he asked warily, though still a little less concerned than he would’ve been without all that laughing to get him feeling more like his old self.

“No, I don’t really have an appetite,” she replied, as if it was an everyday occurrence for her to not want to eat- which it wasn’t. “I just wish this little grubber would agree with me!” she exclaimed as she finally let go of Dipper’s hand (how they managed to hold on to each other through that whole laugh-attack, neither knew) and squished up her belly with both of her own.

As if in response, it growled at her again. And Dipper was starting to look like a worry-wart.

She groaned, for she knew that Dipper was going to insist on her getting some breakfast, even though she really didn’t want it, both for his sake and for the fact that the thought of having even cereal wasn’t a pleasant one. It practically made her gag.



Before, it was always her pulling a puppy-dog look at him to get what she wanted, but it seemed that roles had reversed. Now, her brother’s face had contorted into something so sad and worried and guilty. She didn’t stand a chance against such an honest expression of love and concern.

She groaned even harder and averted her eyes shamefully. “Fine, Dip-butt! I’ll go get something, but only if you shut your pie-hole about it.”

As if pouncing on the words before Mabel could even think of taking them back, Dipper rushed out an eager “D̢҉e̢̕a̢͜͡l̸͠!” just as she finished her sentence, and a small blue flame puffed out his hands.

Both blinked, then their eyes widened as they realized what just happened.

Unintentionally, the twins had made their first demonic deal with each other.

Dipper’s golden pupils were quickly shrinking at the same time as his face was paling to paper white in horror, and the air around them was getting sapped of all heat. Mabel lifted up her hands to do something, but couldn’t figure out what. “Wait, Dip-” she began, only to falter in how to finish.

The TV and windows finally decided to shatter spectacularly, and the upholstered furniture started to peel, and Dipper vanished.

“D-Dipper?” Mabel whispered, confused and scared by the sudden disappearance. She frantically stood up and looked around the room. “Dipper, where are you? Come back!” Fear clenched her heart, and her voice rose into panicked octaves. “Are you okay, bro-bro? Why can’t I see you?! Dipper, come back!

She could hear a chair screeching as it scraped the floor, then footsteps plodding toward her. “Mabel, what happened?” Grunkle Stan called as he made his way to the living room. Just as he got around the corner, there was a knock at the door.


Wendy nervously tapped the toe of her boot to a frantic beat as she waited for one of the Pines to answer and let her in. Though she had never cared that much about her appearance in the first place, she knew she looked rather ragged and sleep-deprived as she stood there, especially with her lip gnawed raw from biting it and her fidgety, paranoid looks about her surroundings when nothing had ever spooked her or tackled her down in this part of the town. (Well, in normal conditions, anyway.)

Honestly, she was not entirely sure why she had come to the Shack in the first place. Yes, Dipper and Mabel were her friends, and… stuff happened that she was still trying to comprehend, but she doubted she could actually be of much help at the moment. Nothing about this whole complicated mess could be resolved with her axe or her wit.

A few seconds after she knocked, she heard the resident grumpy old man shout in her general direction, irritated, “Who’re you?!”

“Wendy!” she shouted back through the door, then decided to just let herself in like usual. She walked in to see him and Mabel, neither properly dressed for the day (though she’d seriously considered not bothering with such things, either, before coming), inspecting their immediate surroundings, eyebrows drawn together.

“Uh, hey,” she greeted, attempting to maintain her normal attitude. “What are you guys looking for?”

“Dipper disappeared,” Stan grunted, not mentioning how only Mabel could really say that, seeing as he’d already disappeared for everyone else almost a week ago.

“I thought you could always see him?” she asked the girl, who made an odd gesture between a nod and a shrug.

“I guess he teleported or something,” she muttered, sniffling and rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand.

“Huh.” As she walked in, she pointlessly looked around as well, and noted how cold air still lingered around them. In that case, he was likely still in the house. “Did you try your room?”

Mabel mumbled out something kinda like “Was about to” before sprinting up the stairs.

As she did that, Wendy turned her attention to her boss- well, she assumed he still was, even though the Mystery Shack hadn’t been open for business lately. “So, uh, how’re you guys doing?”

“Good, but we’d be better if you didn’t ask,” he muttered near-instinctively, for his heart wasn’t really in it.

She knew she actually wasn’t that much older than the twins, but she couldn’t help but feel a much bigger age gap right now. “No, really.”

Stan seemed to secretly appreciate her attempt to act like an adult. “About as good as you can expect. I don’t know what’s going on between them half the time, and it’s a little harder to be a grunkle to an invisible kid.” He glanced up to the ceiling, where they could hear Mabel rummaging through the attic and shouting her brother’s myriad of nicknames. “Like right now- I have no idea what happened, just that it got both of ‘em upset. And Mabel’d been laughing her head off right before that, too. Bipolar, those kids.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Wendy assured with a thin smile. “Me and Soos and everyone else has got your back, Stan. Yours and Dipper’s and Mabel’s.”

Clearly trying to not sound touched, because he always acted too tough for feelings, he said, “Too bad you’re all idiots.” Her smile now felt more natural.

A louder thump was heard upstairs, sounding like something heavy fell, and Mabel was threatening her brother to come out or face her bedazzler.

Stan merely grumbled, “We should probably help her out.”

Wendy nodded and propelled herself up the stairs, reaching the top much faster than him. “Yo, can I come in?”

She peered in once Mabel gave her the affirmative, and realized she’d never seen the twins’ room before. It looked rather disheveled, but she was pretty sure a lot of the mess had happened within the past few minutes. The temperature caused Wendy to shudder, yet Dipper was (apparently) still nowhere to be found. And Mabel looked very desperate to find him. Where else in the Shack would he go hide?

“Hm… It’s technically not in the Shack, but he might be on the roof,” Wendy suggested once the thought came to her.

“You’re right!” Mabel turned to face her excitedly. “Why didn’t we think of it before? Come on!” She leaped back toward the staircase, and gestured for the other two to follow her.

“Don’t bother, Stan, we’re going to the roof,” Wendy informed him, as he was about halfway done with his arduous trek up the stairs. She heard him curse under his breath as he turned to go back down.

The two girls reached the ladder at the same time, but Mabel climbed up first. Wendy poked her head out the trapdoor on the roof just as Mabel was rushing over to that one spot Dipper always sat, where she directed her anger and relief.

Wendy shyly waved, just in case Dipper was looking in her direction, and went back down the ladder. She was pretty sure it’d be better to let the twins talk privately. As she lowered the door, she let out a quiet sigh of relief. Hey, she wasn’t as useless as she thought after all.


He knew Mabel was near him before she’d started loudly calling him variations of “Dipper”. The twin-link (as he and his sister had started to refer to it) didn’t only mean that they could see and touch each other. He could feel the distress tightening her chest painfully (and not the funny kind of pain, either- wait, no, he’s not supposed to think there is a funny kind of pain), and could even approximately determine her location, if he focused enough on the link.

He hovered over the shingles on the Shack’s roof, which looked like they were precariously holding on for dear life. How the house didn’t fall apart as much as it could’ve during the battle, he had no idea.

When the “deal” happened (no no no, why’d he have to turn it into a deal?), he had actually gone straight to the place with those demon sheep, first, hoping their cuddliness would soothe the conflicting emotions roiling in his belly. (Even though it was such a small thing he agreed to, he had felt the tiniest bit of a power boost, and more than the tiniest bit of smug satisfaction, and he didn’t want to feel either of those.) He thought it actually did help, a little, nuzzling his face into the wooly back of the smallest sheep there, but he soon noticed Mabel’s anxiety, strong enough to disturb him while on a different plane of existence. And so, he returned to the roof, hoping for a little bit of time to himself before he was found.

It wasn’t a particularly pleasant time of contemplation alone, but at least Mabel didn’t see him feeling so divided, broken, and self-destructive.

“There you are, Dipper!” He didn’t bother turning around to greet his sister as she lifted herself onto the roof. “You’re such a jerk-merk, hiding up here and scaring me like that!”

She carefully stepped over to sit down beside him, hugging her legs to her chest, much like the curled-up position he had donned. She elbowed him gently. “Don’t go disappearing like that again, okay?”

“No p̢rơḿįses̀,” he mumbled into his knees, because he really doubted this would be the last time he did that. He heard the entrance to the roof gently close- must’ve been Wendy, since he heard her in the house earlier.

“Were you up here this whole time?” she asked, expression softening, now that her strong emotional state had faded down.

“I’d been somewhere else for a while,” he admitted, eyes flicking over to see her mildly confused expression. “But, well…” He turned his attention back to the view of the forest and clear, blue sky. It looked just about the same as it had all summer, somehow. “The view wasn’t as great.”

“I’m gonna miss this,” Mabel muttered wistfully, taking in the beauty of a place they just might never see again.

Even though this place of danger, adventure, and mystery had also been the place he became… this… he had to agree. “Me too.”

For a while, they just sat there, pretending things were the same as before. They never could be, they both knew that, but it was nice to indulge in wishful thinking.

As usual, it was Mabel who interrupted the silence. “Since, as far as I can tell, you’ve held your end of the agreement, I’ll go do mine.”

Dipper looked over to her incredulously. She ignored it.

“You wanna come with?” she offered as she lifted herself off the shaky shingles. “I know watching someone eat isn’t all that interesting- unless that someone is Manly Dan with all-you-can-eat pancakes- but you can if you want to. It’s okay if you’d rather stay here.”

“No, I’ll- I’ll come with.” Because only Mabel would understand what he needed to hear, that it wasn’t really that bad to make deals, especially the relatively harmless ones, and it’d be fun to see what she’ll put into her Mabel Juice this time around, and he didn’t think he deserved a sister like her.

“Great! You’ll get to say hi to Wendy!” she chirped, her usual cheerful tone starting to come easier to her. “Maybe she can reach those sprinkles Grunkle Stan put up on the top shelf so I couldn’t use them. Ooh, and I think we have some cheese, I can put some in-”

“Thanks, Mabel.” He supposed she wouldn’t think that the things she said were worth his gratitude, but he said it anyway.

Her mouth quirked up into a small smile. “No problem, bro-bro.”

Neither of them had to say it out loud, but they knew that she wanted them to stick together just as much as he did, and that meant more than either could put into words.

It was going to be difficult- talking to their parents was just going to be the first step in their long trek to a sense of normalcy, if such a thing could even exist- but they could do it if they had each other.

Mabel grabbed his hand and dragged him back inside with her, excitedly chattering about everything that came to mind, just like she would do throughout the many years ahead of them.

(Began December 30, 2016, and finished revising March 31, 2017.

Thank you to Mary P. Sue for helping me have the confidence to post this. Seriously.)

trueromantic1  asked:

Klaroline + they find out dragons exist/aren't extinct when Caroline accidentally finds herself with a pet dragon

More of the mini drabble prompts from a couple weeks ago! I went full on with the magic school thing here. Sorrynotsorry.

Have It All

When Caroline’s newest student, a young boy from a coven in remote part of Sweden that was exhibiting abilities his parent’s didn’t know how to deal with, had shown up with a blue enameled box as a gift Caroline hadn’t been able to turn it down. He’d smiled, sweet and shy, and told her in heavily accented English that he was looking forward to beginning to learn and left the box on her desk while one of her assistants set out to introduce him to the other kids in his age group.

She’d studied the box for a minute, held it up to the light to admire the vivid blues and swirling silvers that decorated it. It had been remarkably heavy, she’d noted and she’d been searching for a latch when someone had knocked at her office door.

Running a school meant precious little time to kick back and relax, Caroline had found. She was forever on her feet putting out (sometimes literal) fires. She’d set the box aside once she’d returned to her office, buckled down to do some of her endless piles of paperwork, and forgotten all about it

Until it had begun to move. On its own.

Now, a couple years ago Caroline might have screamed bloody murder. Her nerves were made of sterner stuff now that she was often surrounded by tiny people with extreme, sometimes uncontrollable, power at their disposal. She merely pushes back her chair, eyeing the box perched innocently on a bookshelf under the window.

She’d been subject to a prank or two and while little Valter Andersson didn’t seem the type to attempt to make an entrance but maybe that had been on purpose, an attempt to lull her into a false sense of security by hiding his true shit disturber nature.

Magical kids were definitely crafty.

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thepoetspens  asked:

I'd love to hear more about Faeb as a character! I love seeing her in your gorgeous art and am curious about what she's like. What's her backstory? personality?

Yay! I love talking about her. :) Here’s an updated version of her overall story so far:

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BBRae Week 2017: Casual Love vs. Marriage

Somewhat long and mildly NSFW (nothing explicit, though). Enjoy.


No Strings Attached

It’s amazing how a few words can influence the course of one’s life.

It all started when she told him he was “kinda funny”. The immediate flash of delight and affection that burst from him made her wince anxiously, but what was said could not be unsaid.

It all went downhill – or uphill, depending on the point of view – from there. His feelings for her only grew stronger, and to be honest, she couldn’t but savor a sense of being flattered by his attention. She was a teenage girl, after all, regardless of her heritage. And there was quite a bit of common ground between them; they had both seldom experienced kindness from others.

Of course, that didn’t mean she started having feelings of her own towards him. Azar, no! Such a thought was too preposterous to even consider! But it sparked her curiosity and made her look deeper inside him. She had to admit grudgingly to herself that she liked a lot what she saw there.

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Reblog this if you’d read a novel with the following plot...

As a part of an experiment to create supersoldiers, a group of sixteen teenagers is sent to an uninhabited barrier island off the coast of South Carolina. No one knows how they got there, but one thing is clear: they are not the same as before they came to the island. The teens have been altered, giving them powerful, deadly, and often uncontrollable powers. Bribed by the promise of “fixing” the problems which made their families and friends reject them, the teens go along with the experiment at first, until they discover the truth behind the experiment…

More things the plot leaves out:

MC is a black trans woman who is also a lesbian

most of the characters are LGBT and between the ages of 13-17

most of the characters are POC

I just wanted to know if the novel would have a good following, as I’m planning to release it on tumblr, and offer “behind the scenes” looks on Patreon. I’m planning to release it a scene at a time, but if you support me on Patreon you can get a full chapter! Scenes will be released every week on Thursday, if this can get going.

So reblog/like if you would read!

I AM ALSO LOOKING FOR AN EDITOR! So if you can edit things let me know!

Asgardians and other alien races fangirling over the Power Rangers:

  • Thor uncontrollably grinning every time any of the Rangers are talking, posing or just existing because friends, of Allfather it’s the POWER RANGERS or as Thor knows them the Dygð Hyrða!!!
  • Loki is his usual snarky self about the Avengers “petty new recruits” but then he looks into their eyes and oh… oh,,, ha, I merely jest Dygð Hyrða, if you don’t mind me asking why are you slumming it with these peasants?
  • Thor being the first person to jump up and fetch a drink or snack if any of the kids so much as hint that they’re thirsty or hungry
  • Loki back peddling on every single insult he’s about to say on reflex because a Ranger just rose their eyebrow at him and he just sulks like a pissed off wet cat instead.
  • Sif freaking out over Kimberly and Trini, because female Dygð Hyrða have always been her heroes and she can’t believe she’s finally meeting not one BUT TWO
  • A lot of Lords Jason, Billy and Zack, Ladys Kimberly and Trini, get thrown around. They can’t get the Asgardians to just say their names there’s always titles ffs it’s weird guys come on.
  • Allfather allowing himself to be sassed by five Human teenagers because Asgardians revere the Dygð Hyrða/Power Rangers THAT MUCH.
  • Vision is Fond of the Rangers because the stone in his forehead glows happily around the beings that used to protect it too, on top of the life crystals.
  • Bruce fucking Banner buying Thor all the Power Rangers figurines and Thor is absolutely DELIGHTED.
  • Sif buys Yellow and Pink Ranger figurines and she asks them for strength before battles.

Supergirl version to come!


“I was sketching these villain shots for the opening sequence of "The Batman” animated series. Since we redesigned the major villains, we wanted to feature them. 

The rooftop shot with Batgirl was the first drawing done when we thought about introducing her into the show!

Here are two covers to “The Batman Strikes” comic book. It was super fun to work on them with the terrific Dave McCaig. The Manbat on the cover was designed for the show by the awesome Jose Lopez! 

The first Mr.Freeze was not used, but one of many fun explorations into the character. One of the main goals of the show was not to just redo everything that Bruce did on BTAS. He did such an incredible job that we wanted to go a different direction to carve out our own path. For our Mr. Freeze, I wanted to seriously rethink the whole helmet idea and make it into an ice enclosure, created buy his new uncontrollable ice powers. It would retain a nice silhouette and a nod to Bruce’s design, but still be a different idea, organically grown from a new origin. I wanted him to be skinny and frail, since his powers are not his physicality, but more his ice elemental type of powers. We went with the second design which had see-thru portions on his containment suit. If I have a chance to implement see thru plastic parts in design, I WILL. Kikaider is forever in my blood.

The Bane design was created cause I never liked how Bane went from huge to a little huger. So I wanted two versions, a smaller guy, who becomes huge after the venom is released into his body. I needed a costume that could withstand the change a little better than Hulks pants, so I went with a banding system. When he’s little the bands cover a lot of his body, when he grows, the bands separate to reveal a huge red beast. The colors also visually hint at his transformation, from bland, neutral grey to a strong red.“ -Jeff Matsuda, Producer/Art Director of "The Batman” on kidsWB. 

anonymous asked:

Hello there! I have 2 scenarios for you and I want to know your opinion regarding them. First, if Shizuo killed someone before the infamous death match, how would Izaya react? Would he enjoy it because Shizuo has finally became a monster or react in a completely unexpected way? Second, if Shizuo knew that Izaya was shot, how would he react and would he visit him in the hospital? I am looking forward to your answer!

I think it depends on the circumstance in which Shizuo would have killed that person.

Celty said in Volume 2 it’s a miracle Shizuo hasn’t killed anyone with his strength. But it was like in the manner of his strength being so uncontrollable and great that it’s a testament to Shizuo’s self-control that he hasn’t killed anyone with it so far.

As for Shizuo, he’s actually on some occasion seen dead bodies but he’s never killed anyone before, and he felt nauseous when he saw the dead bodies of the Awakusu-kai men. ‘If Shizuo hadn’t been through those, he would probably have thrown up at the sight, that was how gruesome the killing scene looked like’

Ironically, Shinra said to Shiki it coudn’t have been Shizuo’s doing because had it been Shizuo, those bodies would have looked way worse.

Let us assume that Shizuo was filled with rage to the point that he wanted to kill whoever his opponent was.

The kind of insane rage that would make him want to kill three people in Awakusu-kai, mind you.

But don’t the bodies of the deceased look a little too tidy for that to you? 

Take the body of the deceased who was rammed into the wall for example. Shizuo can easily rip guardrails off with those arms of his. If it was indeed Shizuo who rammed the man’s head into the wall with the intention of killing him - that is to say, without pulling his punches - then the body would probably not be left with a face for you to recognize. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised to see a smashed skull instead. 

- Durarara Volume 6

If Shizuo killed someone in this manner, then his psyche would definitely take a turn for the worse. He would no longer be able to live a peaceful life. He would probably be disgusted at himself and descend further into the cycle of destruction - just like he did when he broke all his bones when he was young - it made him angry that he couldn’t control himself and he wanted to destroy himself so he broke more and more. 

But if it was intentional - then Shizuo wouldn’t care. If it was intentional, and he had no regrets afterwards he would possibly begin to see his strength as a dangerous weapon he can make use of to have a peaceful life. 

It really depends on the circumstance, but in the example Shinra gave above, if it was uncontrollable rage then Shizuo would hate himself even more and begin to truly see himself as a monster. 

As for Izaya, well, this is just my opinion but I don’t think Izaya has ever wanted Shizuo to become a monster by killing someone until the death match.

Sure, he calls Shizuo a monster and says he can’t love him as a human because of that, but Izaya has never pushed Shizuo to the point of wanting to truly kill someone until the death match, either him or another person. He speaks of killing Shizuo, but never of Shizuo killing someone. Even in the death match, he starts with the intention of killing Shizuo, and when he can’t, he aims for Shizuo to kill him and become a monster. 

“A great man could be a hero in a war, but when peace comes he might immediately become feared like a monster for being preposterously strong.”

- Orihara Izaya, Durarara! SH Volume 1

As you know, I theorized that Izaya started a war in Ikebukuro to not only wake up Celty’s head, but to make Shizuo a hero. So he shouldn’t - and hasn’t - planned things to the point that Shizuo would want to kill someone - until the death match. Because he couldn’t take the suffering anymore.

I think Izaya was content loving Shizuo from afar, he didn’t seem to suffer at all before he got out of the hospital. And he also loves humanity unrequitedly, so he seems to be someone who can live an unrequited love.

So if Shizuo killed someone before the death match in the situation Shinra described above - I think Izaya would have mixed feelings. He would be happy because it proves that Shizuo is a monster, but upset because Shizuo has become a monster, and not the hero he wanted him to be. How do I say this….he would be happy because it validates his words that he can’t love Shizuo because he can’t love a monster, but upset because it really wasn’t in his plan and he didn’t want to push Shizuo to the extent of killing someone (since before he got out of the hospital, he wasn’t suffering because Shizuo did not have as many people around him)

So it also really depends on when Shizuo would have killed someone. Before the death match yes, but before or after he met Vorona and Akane? When it was just Izaya and him, or when it was no longer about just Izaya and him? 

If it was after, when Izaya is all bitter and jealous, then Izaya would probably enjoy it, because see, Shizuo is a monster and not human like he’s trying to be with Vorona and Akane and Masaomi. And that’s why he can’t be in love with Shizuo because Shizuo is not human. Of course, he would be a bit perturbed because again, it’s unpredictable of Shizuo, who again ‘changed on his own’.

But if it was that kind of case, then Izaya would also possibly take the opportunity to confront Shizuo about it and perhaps forge a connection with him. Shizuo’s reaction would depend on whether he killed someone because of Izaya or because of something unrelated to Izaya. If it was because of Izaya - then, well, he would probably kill Izaya. However if him killing someone was completely unrelated from Izaya, then Shizuo might be able to see Izaya in a better light - for the sole reason he’s now in a worse light than Izaya who hasn’t killed anyone like him. Izaya would taunt Shizuo about it, but want to use the opportunity to get Shizuo away from his humans. 

It would then depend on Shizuo, and the impact killing someone in such a gruesome way (the way Shinra described above) would have on him. And if it was that Izaya - that bitter and jealous Izaya who was suffering from Shizuo forgetting about him, he would do anything to get Shizuo. He would definitely taunt Shizuo about it, but I think he would use it as an opportunity to get Shizuo on his side. But since Shizuo is unpredictable and is likely to react and move on his own, Izaya might be compelled to join Shizuo instead. 

The mysterious person, who uses the art of coaxing, to truly love one person. Surely that man would then become ‘evil.’ To only obtain that person, he would be fine with destroying the world, killing people, or to make a mess of society.

- Densuke Sozoro, Standing Ovation with Izaya

So Izaya did make a mess of society with his plan to start a war in Ikebukuro. It wasn’t to ‘obtain’ Shizuo, but to make Shizuo a hero, but in a way it was, since before their death match, Izaya asked Shizuo if he thinks helping humans is going to make them love him, as if he already had a plan for Shizuo to become a hero.

So in the hypothetical situation with a Shizuo who has killed someone gruesomely and a joyful but also bitter and jealous Izaya after Shizuo didn’t visit him in the hospital, Izaya might do unpredictable things to obtain the Shizuo who has killed someone and is affected by it. It would be the prime opportunity for Izaya to step in, especially because he knows, after Shizuo forgetting about him, how it feels like to not have Shizuo notice him. 

Their relationship would change. They would become closer, if Izaya is the only one Shizuo can turn to because he feels he’s a monster who shouldn’t be around the people he cares about, but it would also become more twisted. And considering Vorona has killed many people before, Izaya might make his move fast so that she and Shizuo don’t bond over him killing someone. Though I don’t think she killed people as gruesomely as Shizuo would have if he had killed someone. 

But if Shizuo reacts really negatively to having killed someone and becoming a monster, his relationship with Izaya would really become more twisted than before. He hates Izaya, but Izaya is the only one he can be with because Izaya is - was worse than him. I don’t think it would be a healthy turn because not only do you have a self-loathing Shizuo, you have a bitter and resentful but still in unrequited love Izaya and it’s really not a good equation at all. Izaya’s love for Shizuo would just become more and more twisted, because Shizuo has become a monster like he wanted him to be, but he’s reacting in such a human way and Izaya still loves him. 

If Shizuo killed someone after the death match….you mean in SH? Again it depends on the circumstance, because as said before, with Izaya gone, Shizuo has a shorter fuse because his outlet for his uncontrollable power is gone. If he killed someone in SH (in the manner Shinra described), then well, he would become a villain, because with the way things are going in SH, Shizuo killing someone could be the turning point the narration described. 

There are people who would take advantage of that like Kuon, whom Yahiro told has to become greater than Orihara Izaya if he wants Nozomi to live independently. And turning Heiwajima Shizuo into a villain (since he can’t become one himself because as Nozomi says, he’s too soft unlike Izaya) would be something even Izaya wasn’t able to do

And if Shizuo became a villain, Izaya might come back. You can refer back to my butterfly and camellia theory here. 

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Eye of the Beholder - a messed up underfell fic by @withtheworms

summary: It’s Underfell but it’s different.  Sans has multiple eyes within his left eye, that allow him to see different versions of himself in other timelines (though not interact with them in any way). However, that power is uncontrollable, and he’s starting to realize the unique perspective his eye gives him is something he’s going to have to deal with sooner rather than later. 

index - prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 + epilogue

Okay we’re doing this.  Vapetale.  It’s Sansby, it’s weird, there’s messed up eyes, there’s gonna be dudes made of bones kissing dudes made of fire, and it’s not on ao3 because ao3 scares me so i’m putting it on my other blog!  eyyy lmao.