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Warrior Cats with Super Powers
Hi everyone, it's Wolfheart. I've decided that one day when I get better at animating I'm going to make a series where warrior cats' names are taken literally and they get them as their super powers - e.g. Squirrelflight being a flying fox, Dovewing having dove's wings, Mistyfoot having misty feet, and so on. If anyone has any art of warrior cat names taken literally, please link it for ideas.
Thank you so much everyone!
What Ninjago element are u??? Here find out!!(more then quiz cus yes)
This one ONLY counts the Powers!! Not the character!
@tundra116
Mike ; juju and aka
Jupiter’s Legacy s01e01
“He’s way too emotional. He’s distracted. He’s not even close to being ready. Maybe he never will be.”
New Species for my World-Building Project Species Name: Elisiers
Classification: Sub-Magic Wielder Ranking: S+ Powers: Rapid healing, Clairvoyance Power Explanation: The power they are most well known for is clairvoyance, essentially being able to predict the future. However, what makes this species especially unique is the fact that there is no set way in how they predict it. Some known methods are through dreams, visions, emotions, however, not a lot of information is known about them or the specifics...
Background Info: They are born from stardust, which is what grants them their abilities, due to star dust being magical residue. With it thriving within their very beings, they tend to be incredibly powerful beings. As a result, they are an extremely rare species, very few exist at the same time.
New Species for my World-Building Project Species Name: Aleysians
Classification: Sub-Magic Wielder Ranking: B- (case to case basis tho) Powers: Aura reading, slight increased healing Explanation: Their abilities are passed down from the Elisier in their blood line so potency of their magic (and in retrospect strength of their powers) depends on how far down the bloodline they are. If the magic is still potent enough or awakened somehow, they are tend to manifest weak clairvoyancy. In truth, their abilities tend to be aura reading that with training can be used to determine potential futures through reading emotions and energies of people and locations.
Background Info: A sub-species of Elisiers and humans technically as the small amount of Elisiers mean that Elisier couples are basically impossible. Direct Aleysians are born from the reproduction of Elisiers with a mortal counterpart (making them a less common sub-species), however, generational Aleysians are more often found around (some even unaware of the fact they are one.
You have a small superpower. Whenever you tap someone on the shoulder, they always look over that shoulder, without fail. At first, you just used this for harmless pranks. Then, you realized you can kill people by tapping both of their shoulders.
This was supposed to be posted here.
I choose state control— as a trans girl, you can guess why.
Though, I think there's equally obvious bonus benefits.
SLP—1: Super Powers
The poll is simple, there are super powers, but you may only take one. If you choose a power, please tell us why. If you need help deciding, check below the poll for more information.
Memory Regeneration
You are as immortal as your name. As long as someone recalls your existence— the idea of you, you cannot truly die or cease to be. You can be restored from the image of yourself within the minds of others. A life long friend may be suffice alone, but it may take a hundred strangers. Your legacy is your life.
Psionic Abilities
Your mind is capable of influencing both the world, and even other minds. Telekinesis allows you to exert control over physical things— moving, crushing, feeling, etc. Telepathy allows you to speak into the mind's of other's, transmit memories, thoughts, raw emotions, or even dreams— more impportantly, you can access what's already there, and come to know any person more intimately than they know themselves.
Neo Sense
Our cognition informs our subjective view of reality. You're familiar with the 5 sensory abilities we commonly use, but science has categorised numerous additional senses. Neo Sense allows you to mix and merge the nature of a sensory abilities to create new ways of experiencing reality. For example, integrating smell with sight to visually perceive various scents, or integrating your ability to discern hot form cold to gain inmate thermal vision. One can also use a form of "super sense," to vastly amplify or enhance a singular one of the 5 main senses at the cost of the other 4 (temporarily).
State Control
Some fear that, for as much as they are themselves, their body cannot reflect it. But what if you could change it, all of it? You could make cosmetic changes, like colour, hair length etc, or you could be practical. Additional limbs, sensory organs, etc. Or perhaps you'll change the material composition of your body— enhancing muscle efficiency and bone durability. Sure, it could take getting use to. But you've got time. It's not like ageing is a problem anymore.
Elementalist
You wield a subset of seemingly simple powers: thermal, hydro, atmo, and geo.
Thermal is tied to creating and controling thermal energy. You can draw on fire, or even sparks and excite them into blazes or explosions, boil liquids enough to scar flesh. It's not quite as bland as just shooting beams of fire.
Hydro is about water (and it's relevent states, ice and vapour). Avatar-like waterbending is quite akin to this. But there are nichè uses even Avatar fails to touch on. For example, making a vapour aura that rapidly shifts form to accommodate your needs.
Atmo is about air, or gasses inhabiting a space. Manipulate the vibrations in the air to create and influence sound, compress and rapidly release air to shatter bones, or create and manipulate localised atmospheres or bubbles.
Geo is about the planet itself: employ mud, stone and metal as means to attack and defend— they're yours to control. Alter the elemental makeup of your body, or even manipulate that of objects to create polymers and alloys.
Most importantly. Don't forget you can combine each of these "simple" powers in complex ways... For devastating effect. For example, heat a localised pocket of air and excite the particles to create lightning, encase the pocket with water, fuelled towards a target... You have a thunder gun.
Kleptoknowledge
Simultaneous possession of the aforementioned powers would make someone dangerous. But, what use is power you cannot comprehend and thus apply? What if, you were capable of siphoning the intelligence of those around you— diminishing their minds while your own grows stronger. You could walk through a town center and drain a singular IQ point from each person; you will leave with twice the intellect of the greatest historical geniuses.
New Roommate
[Webtoon / Tapas / Patreon]
Bewitched || JJK - Pʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1021798067-bewitched-jjk-p%CA%80%E1%B4%8F%CA%9F%E1%B4%8F%C9%A2%E1%B4%9C%E1%B4%87?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=listenboixx&wp_originator=YFM5IUCVa64PVXj3h1sDkZP7ANeynGqyk4Iaysm3S2eCN%2FUQ7hutTQ%2BeofAfOY4fs3URPziEVv83OEw%2FB8EsLq7lhLYCXzBecudM8WoGLkeYj5UHwPA4GwCnlMG3c8H9 In 1692 they began the witch trials. Which caused two souls to be ripped apart. But fate has brought them back. ***BTS ages are changed
Bewitched || JJK - Pʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1021798067-bewitched-jjk-p%CA%80%E1%B4%8F%CA%9F%E1%B4%8F%C9%A2%E1%B4%9C%E1%B4%87?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=listenboixx&wp_originator=O1QxBZ1jgGtfl6WfvorivR5JUoai6GPtmlA8iBYgJksitVGIVP2wcUcmlpEgJWJsVYLWPuxcVMJGW0B%2FRj3iZ43kI25SdmDXUKbrF0JKeOxyEl7DCgz%2FX8IfX2c4o5dC In 1692 they began the witch trials. Which caused two souls to be ripped apart. But fate has brought them back. ***BTS ages are changed
Bewitched || JJK - Oɴᴇ Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1021930628-bewitched-jjk-o%C9%B4%E1%B4%87-c%CA%9C%E1%B4%80%E1%B4%98%E1%B4%9B%E1%B4%87%CA%80?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=listenboixx&wp_originator=8RAW%2F7c%2BZNiyI7UiFJw%2FwyqX8VktWKHHLofzMkdl0zpv%2Bz1w%2FKtgzok69f%2BT5ueBlwPwh7MVsCcEwCWSWUg2VXJszTZQV6Vbcn4Rh63p%2BWC10lYtM2JQdiYaSVaaSDtA
In 1692 they began the witch trials. Which caused two souls to be ripped apart. But fate has brought them back. ***BTS ages are changed
Sight|KTH - One (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1092225815-sight-kth-one?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=listenboixx&wp_originator=Sg%2BuZs6Kbha0%2Bj7iPLWu4YTPlLPVb1%2F5RZAmaFWrDRY%2FLHgl%2FjPRXUSs5Ae4UzVSX%2FP4Cy863XWK%2BEyOA1QapB4aHdw%2FhZavbTpZpH7BJJ6qnSouCyCKTXsyUB%2F8LfsY Another fanfic that will either flop or be big. Sana is a young woman with the special gift of sight. After years of seeing for everyone else, will she finally able to see for herself?
what powers would a lizard devil/fiend/hybrid have?
all i could think of is: **limited** bloodless regeneration (skinks), invisibility (chameleons, if yer a dummy), super clingy wall climbing (geckos), venomous bite (beaded lizards, komodo dragons, and gila monsters), tough skin (scales), hours long breath holding [hybrid only, because i don't think devils/fiends need to breath] (most lizards reptiles can do this, don't test this @ home), tongue tentacle (chameleons, if yer a dummy 2), more sun exposure = more strength [not to a stupid extent tho, sadly] (poor understanding of exothermy), and claws! very sneaky devil/hybrid/fiend
Tw : scars, shirtless guy!!
New occ just droppeddd, this is nemo! He's a vampire and a shape-shifting to show all my alterhuman types! I showed him w/ out a shirt to show his top surgery scars and birth marks he has to help his shape-shifting powers! I would describe him as nice and kinda like the moon! He's trans and unlabeled like me bc he is supposed show what I want to be haha!
CHILDREN OF THE GODS THAT CAN CONTROL PLANTS!!
Hear me out! Kids of like Demeter, Persephone, and Dionysus, right? They can control vines and plants and stuff, INCLUDING trees. They can probably bring a dead plant back to life because Nico has probably sucked out the plant life so many times that it's like a habit now. Paper is made out of the wood from trees and so is MONEY! So technically could demigods that can control plants, have power over paper and money??
The door creaked open, golden light spilling from within.
It looked like heaven—as if a slice of something glorious had been tucked away.
Mythria reached a hand for it, but Ella got there first, swinging the door open with a grin.
“After you, m’lady.”
The room was warm when she stepped into it, Ella’s boots echoing after hers, and the pedestal in the center beckoned.
She gasped.
“It’s real.”
Beside her, Ella looked close to tears.
“It’s beautiful.”
And it was—the leather bound book was bracketed by a delicate over cover, twisting leaves and furling branches stretching across its length.
They stopped in front of it, climbing the pedestal.
Mythria wanted so badly to hold it, but couldn’t bear to touch it.
Hello, it seemed to say. I’ve been waiting.
Ella sniffled, and wiped a tear.
“You should do the honors.”
Mythria blinked at her as Ella wiped tears from her cheeks.
“Are you sure?”
Ella nodded, and Mythria turned back to the book.
It was so pretty. She hadn’t known anything could be this pretty—and after all of these years of searching, all the pain, she realized it was worth it.
Her fingers closed upon the book, and she cracked it open.
As soon as her eyes read the first line, her body seized, crumpling to the floor.
She shook, pain lancing through her, iron twisting along her bones.
Above her, Ella simply watched curiously.
She took a handkerchief out of her pocket, wrapping it around her hand in order to pick up the book.
Mythria let out a keen, panting, before she was able to push herself up.
“You knew that would happen.”
Ella raised a brow.
“Of course. I’ve done my research.”
“So then why—“
“I’m honestly surprised you’re still alive,” she continued, as if Mythria hadn’t said anything. “I thought it would kill you.”
Mythria snarled, legs too shaky to stand.
“Traitor.”
Ella hummed.
“I did tell you I was from the Golden Ones. You just assumed I had renounced them.”
“What? So you’re stealing priceless artifacts for some unknown gods? Ella, please—“
“We are the gods,” she corrected, and with the light shining down and the book clutched against her side, she looked like one.
Mythria pulled her knees to her chest as something warm stirred within her.
Ella made for the door.
“One day,” Mythria called, “I will come for you. And you will rethink your own godhood.”
Ella stopped at the threshold.
She grinned.
“I look forward to it.”
Inside her, the power of the book thrummed.
You are the god now.
Mythria smiled, and after a long moment, stood.
She hated traitors.
“If I am a god,” she said to herself, “then it is time for a reckoning.”
The vault trembled, as if it could sense the power growing in her, and delighted in the empty book being stolen away, now simply a book and not a power container.
Mythria was the power container now.
And she was going to show them exactly what a god looked like.
Trapped Hero
The hero slammed into the villain’s chest so hard their breath left their lungs.
The villain didn’t have the decency to look phased as the hero scrambled away.
“You can’t keep me here.”
The villain smiled, a gentle thing, like the hero was a wild animal and they were the valiant rescuer.
Trapped in this cage, the hero felt a little wild.
They were used to cages. This wasn’t the first time. And yet, with the look on the villain’s face, with the power dampeners twined around the hero’s wrists, they were more afraid than they had ever been.
“Of course I can,” the villain said simply. “How would you stop me?”
They cast a pointed look at the hero’s wrists, and they stumbled a step back.
Something twisted in their gut.
“You have no right,” the hero began, and something shuttered in the villain’s eyes.
“You’re so innocent.”
The hero paused.
Innocent? The hero had never associated themselves with that word. Not with their childhood, not with their power, not with their job.
Try to save a city, and spill blood in the process. The only who seemed to care about the spilling of criminal blood was the hero.
Good work, the agency called it.
The hero simply wore it as guilt.
“Innocent,” the villain murmured once more. When they stepped into the hero’s space, closed any distance the hero had managed to create, the hero froze.
“I’m not innocent,” the hero spat, and it felt like a confession.
“You wear the guilt beautifully, I must admit. But you shouldn’t have to.”
The villain ran a hand along the hero’s jaw, and they jerked away.
“Don’t touch me.”
Impossibly, the villain’s eyes softened. The took a step back, watching as the hero relaxed minutely.
“I’m doing this for you.”
“If you’re doing this for me, let me out. Take these damned things off, and let me out.”
“No.”
The hero reeled, and the villain watched that, too.
The city needed them, their people needed them, and they couldn’t help if they were trapped in this tower.
Behind the villain, the door remained closed.
“Please.”
The villain blew out a slow breath.
“You’re too kind for this city.”
The hero took a step forward, hand stretching towards the window.
“That’s why it needs me,” they pleaded. “Don’t take me from it.”
The villain’s eyed them with reproach.
“Does it need you,” they said gently, “or do you need it?”
The hero scoffed.
“What difference does it make—“
“I read your file,” the villain said, and the hero stiffened.
Their childhood, the pain, the hurt, the curses and uttering of freakwrongburden that they kept oh so carefully buried was laid bare in front of them.
Of course the villain had. Of course the villain knew.
The hero swallowed, and it hurt.
“You had no right—“
“They had no right to hurt you.”
The hero stopped. Across from them, the villain was closest to anger as they had ever seen them.
Their power lashed out, and the cuffs shoved it down with all the grace of a falling building.
“Your parents,” the villain began. “Your siblings. They were awful people. If they weren’t already dead, I’d kill them for you.”
The hero shuddered. That night, those deaths, the gravestones that haunted them, tattooed on their mind in ways they knew that they could never erase.
They had been too slow then. They hadn’t been that slow ever again. They made sure of it.
“I don’t need you to—“
“You will not protect yourself, so I am doing it for you.”
The hero jerked their head.
“You call this protecting?”
The tower sat silent around them.
The villain’s jaw clenched.
“This city, your precious people,” the villain grit out. “They would destroy you, if you let them. If I let them.”
The hero took another step forward, and their power hummed, furious within their veins.
Too slow, their body whispered. Danger.
The villain smiled, and this time, it wasn’t gentle, but vicious. The hair on the back of the hero’s neck rose.
“But for you, darling? I’m going to destroy it first.”
They were out the door faster than the hero could grab them.
Even when they screamed their throat raw, scratched their nails bloody on the edges of the door, the villain did not come.
Too slow.
The city burned.
Six months ago, when the protagonist had first appeared in the middle of the villain’s compound, scrawny and half feral, the villain hadn’t thought much of it.
And then it happened again.
And again.
The villain thought something of it.
“Let me work with you,” they had begged. The villain was almost certain the protagonist was homeless. “Please, I have powers, I can—”
The villain said yes.
Maybe it had been whatever remnants were left of the villain’s stupid heart. Maybe it was the chocolate donut they had that morning. Maybe it was the desperation coming off the protagonist in waves.
Maybe they were just bored.
They paid it no mind.
The protagonist did have powers, but they were minor. The kind you see in small children, the first in a bloodline to mutate powers. Their great grand children would wield enough power to level buildings, be heroes and villains and everything in between. But for now, they sat in preschool classrooms and summoned the tiniest spark of flame.
The protagonist, trembling like a fawn, sweat slicking their brow, seemed to be one of those children. Albeit an older version.
Not useless, exactly. They had a startling affinity for picking locks—which explained the ability to get into the villain’s compound—a willingness to fight anyone, and a lack of fear. But they weren’t exactly the most useful sidekick the villain could have picked.
The villain wouldn’t trade them for anyone else, though.
Their stupid, half dead heart, it seemed, cared for the protagonist.
So, when the hero set out to kill the protagonist, the villain knew they would do anything to keep them safe.
They caught the hero’s hand, twisting to shove them backwards a step, and they felt rather than saw the protagonist wince.
“Violent today, aren’t we?”
The hero was seething, and it unsettled something in the villain. The hero was unstable, yes. But the villain had never seen them try to kill someone before; they hadn’t even considered the hero might try.
They dodged another blow, the hero’s power blasting apart a building behind them. Their spine prickled, and they dropped to avoid the next hit.
“Just itching to go to prison for homicide, hm?”
When the hero didn’t even attempt to respond to their half-assed banter, the villain’s gut roiled.
“Protagonist,” they said between breaths. “Leave. Now.”
“No.”
They managed to throw the hero to the ground, risking a glance at the protagonist. They were covered in dust, supersuit dirty and torn across one calf, but their feet remained planted, shoulders set. “You heard me. Go back to the compound—“
The protagonist’s eyes widened, and the villain knew they had turned away for too long.
The villain went down hard, ears ringing, as the hero shook out their fist.
“Stop it,” the protagonist’s voice cracked. They took a step forward, wavering like they weren’t sure if they should run or fight.
“Go,” the villain coughed, and the protagonist flinched. They rolled onto their back, struggling to stand as the hero’s power flickered dangerously.
The villain knew, innately, that the next hit would kill them.
The villain sucked in a painful breath.
The hero lunged.
And the protagonist, voice wrecked with fear, screamed, “Dad.”
The villain’s heart stuttered.
There was a flash of light.
In front of them, panting for air like they would never get enough, was the protagonist. The hero’s fist was planted against their chest still, and the villain could tell it had been a death blow. Anyone, even the villain, wouldn’t have survived.
And yet—
The protagonist stood, unharmed.
“Dad,” they said again, and the hero didn’t quite flinch, but it was close. “Stop.”
The silence was deafening.
Something in the hero’s jaw tightened.
“Move,” the hero said lowly. The protagonist didn’t falter.
“No.”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
“What exactly will you do to me if I don’t listen,” the protagonist gave a sharp laugh. “Hit me? You tried that already.”
The hero sucked in a breath.
“I am your—“
“You are my nothing,” the protagonist corrected. “Certainly not my father. You lost that right when I was eight.”
The villain managed to push themselves to their feet.
“That was stupid,” the villain murmured, but it didn’t have any heat to it. “You couldn’t have known that would work. You had no idea if you could survive a hit like that.”
The protagonist very pointedly did not turn around, shoulders tense.
“I did,” their voice was strained. “He lost the right to fatherhood when I was eight, remember?”
The hero didn’t say anything, but the villain thought that might have been shame creeping its way across their face.
Oh.
Oh.
The hero—
The villain had been harboring the child of the most powerful being on the planet for six months. A child the hero had tried to kill, or at the very least, hurt.
Their heart stuttered.
They had been harboring the most powerful being on the planet, their mind corrected. A drop of blood slid its way down their spine. Power grew with every generation, and with the hero already so powerful, any child they had would be something close to a god.
“You said you had mild telekinesis,” the villain said numbly. The protagonist half turned to look over their shoulder, eyes shiny.
“My mom,” the protagonist. “I got it from her. The rest…”
From the hero.
The protagonist scanned the villain’s face.
They were searching for signs of violence, the villain realized. The protagonist wasn’t afraid of the hero anymore; no, the protagonist had seen the worst they could do. But somehow, the protagonist had begun to care for the villain. And they were terrified the villain—the person they trusted the most—was going to hurt them over a secret. The villain could see it all, scrawled across the protagonist’s face clear as day.
The villain was going to kill the hero. Painfully.
“Protagonist,” the villain kept their voice even. Gentle. Slow. “I’m not mad. And I’m not going to hurt you.” Their eyes slipped past to the protagonist to the hero.
“Him, however, I will be.”
The protagonist worried their lip between their teeth, and the villain watched as their power—their true power—sparked along their shoulder blades.
The villain stepped forwards—
“Don’t,” it was little more than a whisper.
The villain stopped.
The protagonist slid in front of the villain once more. “Just,” they raised a hand, as if taking a moment to choose their next words. “Stay.”
The villain stayed.
When the protagonist’s attention turned back to the hero, it was bloodthirsty. It spoke of war, and hatred, and revenge.
“You’re going to leave,” the protagonist’s voice was sharp enough to cut skin. “And you aren’t going to come back. I don’t care if it’s because you don’t want to, or because you know that if you do, I will kill you and I’ll like it—you won’t come back.”
The hero swallowed.
“The city needs me.”
“You are a plague to this city, and I am ridding it of you. Get. Out.”
The hero stumbled a step backwards, as if they had been hit. Their expression twisted.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would,” the protagonist seethed.
They all knew the protagonist meant it.
The hero was halfway down the block, news vans and reporters scrambling their way onto the scene with cameras raised, when the protagonist called after them.
“Oh, and Dad?” The cameras snapped to them, and the protagonist grinned. It was vicious—it looked like the villain’s. “Parents who abuse their children don’t get to be heroes. Especially not you.”
They waited a beat, two, three.
The press exploded.
Above the din, power crackling around them, the protagonist mouthed two words.
“I win.”