extended suite

You wanna know what’s, like, my favorite thing in the world? The idea that in the early months of the Justice League, they all really didn’t like each other or at the very least had a hard time functioning together as a team. Most had their own egos and traumas to deal with not to mention none of them had ever worked on a proper team before. They all agree that Batman is a paranoid grump who will never really be a part of the group.

But that all changes when they find out about Dick. Every version of ‘The Justice League finds out about Dick’ is the best version. Because it’s not just the fact that Dick is smol and cute and does flips and shit. It’s not even about big, scary Batman is the adoptive father of this precious little boy. It’s that Batman, Bruce, saw a child’s world fall apart right in front of his eyes. Because he understands the impact that tragedy can have on a person and he empathized with this boy who now shares the pain he still struggles with. And Bruce knows what goes on Social Services, knows that good kids go in and a lot of times don’t come out. But in a few short hours he formed an undeniable bond with this child and he cannot let the boy go through even more suffering.

So even though Bruce has basically cut himself off from attachments due to his own suffering and even though he has no childcare experience and, with his nightly activities, might be ill-suited, he extends his hand anyway. Because he knows that Gotham will never treat a cheerful circus kid well. And though he has his own problems, he tries his best to do right for Dick because he refuses to let that bright, happy boy end up like him. And so Gotham’s Dark Knight ends up tucking in an 8 year old boy before he heads out to patrol and works on cases in his Batcave while Dick practices on the parallel bars and offers his own insights. It’s an unusual relationship, one often fraught with the emotional shortcomings of both man and boy, but they have undeniably helped heal the other.

Through Dick, the League gets to see Batman for the first time. They see past the brooding frown, the bloodies knuckles and the low growls and they see someone who loves his city, loves all people, so much that his heart bleeds. They see someone who has suffered, who dedicated his entire life to ensuring that maybe, just maybe, he can stop the suffering of a few others. They see a man who has become consumed in his quest, but not enough that he can’t see the anguish of a small boy who has just had his whole world ripped apart and offer a welcoming hand. They see someone worthy of respect not just for his skills and intelligence but for his strength of heart. Only then, can the League begin to bridge their differences and begin to work as a team. Because Batman showed them that even the most unlikely of pairs can find common ground and the anything is possible if you open your heart.  

About those BoM suits. Personally I think there’s a (high) possibility that they do protect you against bludgeoning damage as well, at least to some extent.
Like you said, they are after all an armour, and just because they don’t look sturdy doesn’t mean they aren’t. Think Frodo’s mithril shirt, just more high tech. It just wouldn’t make sense for them not to offer at least a bit of protection considering BoM members, unlike the paladins, don’t seem to wear much - or any - armour over it.

And while on that, it’s fair to point out that paladin armour is 10.000 years old and quite likely VERY outdated. I’m pretty sure that in all this time somebody developed something at least as efficient that doesn’t require you to wear an actual breastplate. 

This raises the question tho, why doesn’t the Galra army use similar technology if it exists? I think one simple answer would be that it’s a giant ass army and it’d be too expensive to equip everybody with fancy suits, especially if you don’t care if they live or die. And let’s be real here, most Galra soldiers are hardly more than cannon fodder. It’d just be a waste.
BoM on the other hand, would probably try their hardest to ensure their members have the highest possible survival rate. They’d need something that’s both protective and practical, as well as stealthy. No need for the imposing appearance of Galran armour, a suit that’s both unobtrusive and strong would probably serve them best. 

And that’s exactly what these suits seem to be.

submitted by @elany 

I think they suits might protect people from some of the bludgeoning damage but really not all that well:

This looks like a pretty harsh reaction for someone that got most of the damage absorbed, especially since he’s on the ground after the cut:

You have made a convincing argument though. So I raise you this: what if the suits were made for the average Galra and they are a lot more resistant against pain than humans?? Keith isn’t weak but they pretty much never budged beneath any of his attacks. If they are taller, stronger, more pain resistant and just a generally more battle-orientated species (as opposed to humans whose strength is endurance) they could afford lighter armor that gives them more room to move around in without having to fear too many repercussions.

Ok small rant ahead: The paladin armor!!!!!!!!! I hate it so much omg. It’s. fucking. useless. Of course it’s outdated but who the fuck thought it was a good idea to make an armor with an exposed midriff?! And only give them shields so small that not even Lance, a human, can completely fit behind it?! What the fuck??!?!?!?!!!? They must have been tiny, especially for Zarkon who was one of the old paladins…….

[also the suit itself might be of older technology, I already pointed out that the BoM suit was closed over Keith’s wound (assuming that this wasn’t just done to spare the audience of the sight of an open wound) as opposed to his paladin armor which didn’t grow back when the quintessence melted it away at the end of season 1. Then again, quintessence might be a completely different topic………..  quintessence always is a different topic askdjfhbd lmao. As far as we know Alteans were waaaaays ahead of other alien’s technology though. The way it was framed so far they seemed to have been the main people involved in creating Voltron and the castle’s defenses are not bad for being 10 000 freaking years old. So like…….. the suits might actually be more secure than what they look like?? But I still won’t approve of them. ever. not with this stupid design jfc gut wounds are bad news. You need shields and got protectors for your arms but not for your stomach?!!??!?!!?!]

I can’t say much about the Galran suits either tbh. There was that part where Thace got a huge gash in the thickest part of it:

But IT WAS FROM THE STUPID QUINTESSENCE AGAIN WHICH I CANNOT USE TO PROVE OR DISPROVE ANYTHING, so idk. The Galra under Zarkon’s command don’t seem to care much about other Galra’s lives, we just have to look at how quickly he disposes of commanders to deduce that. It would absolutely make sense for him to just not care about giving them good armor and he can get a magic infused one for himself which is better than any technology anyway. 

So while I didn’t take the right pictures to make any sort of formal tutorial for Lotor, I’ve been getting a lot of questions about my process and construction so I figured I would share some of my methods and patterns for anyone who might be looking for some direction for where to start with his (or his generals’!) costume. This costume took me about 2 months with about 55 hours of work put into it, so it’s a pretty involved process but I’ll do my best to cover everything. Let’s get started!

Keep reading

Law: …besides, where did all the “justice” thing go?!

Cass: I ’m a bounty hunter silly, and Bounty hunters are not the best example of “Justice warriors”, they can turn on you anytime if you got a price on your head! …

 On the bright side both you and Bill are alive but only Bill was sent to jail, you got paid and your secret is safe with me. So don’t worry!

Law starts laughing like “heh…haha….HAHAHAHA-”

Cass: [Worried Laugh]

Law: …I know I said I dont hit girls, but clowning me is UNACCEPTABLE.


Cass puts her palms together and says: PLEASE FORGIVE ME I ‘LL DO ANYTHING!!

Law: Prepare to- woah you said “anything”!?

Cass: anything!


*Law start looking at her body*

Cass not making eye contact: Say what you want already!

Law: ok Miss Forehead, there’s one thing you can do for me…

Cass: [Gulp] *sweating*

Law: *extending hand* your suit, lemme wear it.


Law: I want to see how it looks on me

Cass: No! anything besides that! you are too big you would tear the suit!!

Law: [sigh] to be honest… I dont care if you tricked me or not.

Cass: ?

Law: Fighting those guys was the coolest experience I had in a long time. The reason I agreed to help you is that I’m not a fan of easy jobs, I want a challenge. I like to fight strong opponents, and that applies to anyone, good or bad. So, thanks for trying to kill me  *shrugs*

Cass: oh, you’re welcome I guess

bedannibal-lectaurier  asked:

Prompt: Hannibal notices Bedelia's freckles

Thank you for the prompt! You are such a wonderful and supportive friend.♥♥ I love writing stories for you!

Map of infinity

She has never liked them. Numerous small patches of light brown covering her skin. Her father had always told her they make her appear cute. Her mother had only lamented what she thought to be a long-gone gene coming back to life. It is hard enough to be taken serious as a woman without being seen as one of a fragile nature.

For most women, make up is a case of vanity, or social convention, but for Bedelia it is a part of her armour, hiding the feature that undermines her seriousness. The only time she had allowed herself to lower that guard was in privacy of her own home. Alone.

But she is no longer alone. She knew certain compromises would need to be made. Hannibal, however, has taken to the concept of them sharing a living space with an enthusiasm she has not seen on him before. She is still unsure what to make of it.

Now she sits at the lavish vanity of their Parisian suit, looking at her own reflection. A selection of jars and bottles is presented in front of her, only the most exclusive brands. He would only have the best for her, as he told her before.

Bedelia picks up a cleaning pad; she starts with her eyelids before moving to her cheeks. With each stroke, more cinnamon freckles come to light. Upon finishing, she gives herself a critical look. She feels like a little girl again, playing with make-up and pretending to be a grown-up.

Only then she notices Hannibal, standing in the doorway, looking at her intensely. She is used to his piercing gaze, but this one is different and she feels uneasy, suddenly naked before his eyes. Still she matches his stare, as she always did.

“Hannibal, you are staring,” she keeps her tone controlled.

“I am sorry,” he averts his gaze and Bedelia feels reassured. He appears shy, like a young boy caught looking at something forbidden. Perhaps that is what they both are: two children playing house for the first time. Except neither of them is playing, Bedelia thinks as the gleam of her wedding ring reflects in the mirror. She finishes her beauty routine by applying moisturizer and gets up from her seat.

Hannibal keeps his distance and only approaches her when she sets to leave. They stand in front of each other silently; her without her armour, him without his person suit. He extends his hand, but stops mid-air.

“May I?” he asks shyly, yet his eyes leave a burning sensation on her skin.

Her heart is rushing in her ears, she does not what to expect, as the words escape her lips. “You may,” her voice almost as timid as his.

His fingers move to her check and begin to gently stroke her skin, tracing the lines of her freckles, unfolding the map of infinity. No one has ever touched her this way; his feather-like brush travels slowly across her cheek.

“So beautiful,” he says as his hand moves to the other cheek. Heat rises to her skin and she cannot control the blush appearing on her face, only making the freckles more prominent.

A smile pulls at Hannibal’s lips and he leans forward, his lips replacing his fingers, softly kissing her cheeks, cherishing every spot. Bedelia sighs and closes her eyes, surrendering to the caress. She no longer feels like a little girl, but like a goddess worshipped. More heat rises deep in her core and she welcomes it.

“I think this one is my favourite.”

Much later, they linger in bed. Bedelia lays on her stomach and Hannibal’s fingers dance on her back, unable to refrain himself from touching her. With all the seriousness of a seasoned explorer, he finds a freckle between her shoulder blades and traces it with his finger, before sealing the discovery with his lips.

But once a new land is traversed and all its resources claimed, it becomes discarded. Bedelia tenses up at the thought.

“Am I a territory to be claimed?” she turns to face him.

“No,” he looks at her with all sincerity,” You are a paradise to be treasured.”

Hannibal kisses her lips and Bedelia blushes once more. But this time, she does not care to hide it.



Behold, Papillon’s lost partner. She and her kwami, Kaoss, embodied Chaos - and it is from her kwami’s name that the word was derived. Libelle died in the late 1800s, obliterated by a powerful magical attack that claimed her life as well as the life of her kwami, and was the catalyst in the downfall of Papillon and Nurru. Her own arrogance and recklessness lead to her demise. Had she not decided to take on the most powerful of their opponents alone, had she not ventured too far from Mariquita and Black Cat, she may have survived that fight.

One note about her design: her eyes were deep amethyst when transformed and her hair had streaks of silver in it.

Her suit:

  • The entire suit was iridescent black. It would shimmer dark purple, blue, and green primarily although the belt and mask could reflect pink as well.
  • Instead of the usual hexagonal pattern of a kwami suit, the pattern resembled scales. This scale pattern was the only indication of her animal (a chameleon)
  • Unlike most Guardians, her suit left her hands exposed despite covering the rest of her body.
  • Her suit had no offensive capabilities built in.
  • Libelle’s weapon was a wand, which was stored in her belt.
  • She had no mask, instead her suit extended up her neck and face, covering her nose and everything below her cheek bones.

Name: Libelle (meaning “Dragonfly” in Dutch)
Guardian Alias: None/Libelle. She opted not to use an alias.
Animal: Chameleon
Age: Approximately 250 years old at time of death
Nationality: Holland
Primary Language: Dutch

Also: no reposting the design anywhere. It’s mine. Hands off, bitches. Feel free to draw her if you want.

faithful-grigori  asked:

For the prompts, maybe “You know, I would help, but making fun of you is so much more satisfying.” with Danny and Vlad?

ofc my pall also ive never written vlad so i apologize in advance

It starts when the doorbell rings.

Actually, he figures it started last night when his parents called him down to see their latest invention. In all honesty, he screwed himself over when in a momentary lapse of control he let it slip that he was late for his curfew due to a ghost attack. In an instant he had been dragged to the basement laboratory and shoved roughly into a chair, restrained for just long enough for his parents to slap some sort of bracelet onto his arm and, after a quick explanation, had been pushed back up the stairs and to bed.

He had tried all night to remove it, resigning only after receiving a nasty shock in response to the ectoblast he had glanced off the side. It was different from the spectre deflector in that way. It didn’t attack him for having ectoplasm, but for using it, and that was almost more cruel. He couldn’t fly over to Tucker’s, and any remotely human tactic to remove the device had failed.

That had left him with no option. Jazz didn’t have the skill or the know-how to remove it, and he certainly couldn’t ask his parents. That would only raise more suspicion, and he had noticed the way they whispered in the basement as soon as they had thought he was out of earshot.

In fact, maybe it had really started as soon as his ghost sense went off on his way home that night. He figures this is the most likely option as soon as his dad bolts out of his chair and rushes to answer the front door. He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his wife hanging slightly behind. Grabbing the doorknob, he swings it wide and crushes the man at the door in his arms.


Keep reading

yzzy-gggg  asked:

The kissing prompt with KnB Akashi and his fem s/o please??? 42, 47, & 51... Sorry if that's a lot lol I figured maybe you could somehow combine the threee into a scenario since they kind of go together? If you can't then just choose 1 of the 3! ^^ In need of some Akashi love rn, gotta love the emperor. Thank you!! ^^

Hi yzzy-gggg, thank you for the requests! I think you’re right and these string together well. I agree the emperor could use some love on this page and I hope you enjoy.

Seijuro Akashi – Kisses #42, #47, #51

#47: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed

#42: Kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap

#51: hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp

As you approach the Akashi Manor butterflies whirl about in your stomach. It’s not every day you enter the dwelling of modern day royalty. Smoothing your skirt for the hundredth time that morning, you stand poised at the door, reaching toward the doorbell.

Its clear tone sounds through the hallway, signaling to Seijuro you’ve arrived. Eyeing the clock, he’s pleased to note you’re early. Punctuality is something he appreciates.

Outside you fidget as you wait, palms slightly sweaty. It’s not just nerves of where you are, it’s who you’re about to see and be working with. Of all the people for your teacher to assign you to work with it just had to be the one boy in the entire school who utterly intimidates and captivates you. The door opens revealing a butler in full suit.

He extends a surprisingly friendly smile. “Ah, you must be miss ______-san, the young master is in the study. If you will please follow me.”

You enter, trying to keep your expression from showing the awe you feel for the beauty of Akashi-san’s home.

“May I take your coat?” the butler asks.

“Um, yes, thank you,” you reply allowing him to remove it.

“This way,” he continues after hanging it up.  

Your steps echo through the massive hallway, your eyes trailing over all the exquisite artwork. In little time, you’ve reach the double doors of what you presume is the study as your escort stops. He taps so gently you wonder if anyone could possibly hear but a firm, “Enter,” confirms he has been. He opens both doors, drawing back and ushering you forward with a bow and extension of his arm.

“Young master, miss _____-san to see you,” he announces. He stands again, ready at attention.

“Thank you, Tekkan, you may go,” Akashi-san says as he rises from his seat. As the door shuts, you bow slightly.

“Good morning, Akashi-san,” you offer, thankful your voice isn’t shaking.

“Good morning, _______-san, thank you for being willing to come all this way. Normally I would say we could meet after school but I’m sure you know I’m exceptionally busy preparing for the Winter Cup.”

You nod, working hard to maintain eye contact with him, the intensity of his gaze making it rather difficult.

During the ensuing silence, Akashi observes you, impressed by the way you carry yourself in what is most likely an uncomfortable situation. His home, he knows, is not the most welcoming and himself rather…intense. He just doesn’t know any other way to be; winners are focused. Partnership and group projects are the bane of his existence but when he heard he’d been paired with you, well, he knew two things. One: the work would be perfect and two: the company would be enjoyed.

A natural observer, Akashi was rather startled the first time he saw you. All day he couldn’t get you out of his head. There was, and still is, something about you that draws him in, keeps his attention on you. He wonders if you’ve sensed it, but figures probably not. For all his focus on winning and the pride of one’s worth, he finds himself admiring your humility. You’re kind to everyone, pleasant and respectful, your beauty radiating from inward out.

“Shall we get started?” you ask pulling him from his thoughts.

He smiles and you feel your legs shake. “Absolutely,” he replies heading to the French double doors. Looking over his shoulder he continues, “Forgive my rudeness, is there anything you would like? Tea? Water?”

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you,” you say hastily following him outside where you see he’s set up, or had set up for him, all the materials you need for your art project. Having a rather unconventional idea, your art teacher decided it would be a good idea to have her students combine their work on one canvas. Looking at the supply table, you see there are multiple paint tubes, brushes and numerous canvass.

“I thought it best to have additional ones in case something goes awry,” Akashi answers to your inquisitive look.

Of course, he would think that far ahead. Taking a deep breath, you set down your bag, extracting a few books brought for inspiration.

“We won’t need those.” Your red-headed companion’s words surprise you.

“I…I’m not very good at painting freehand,” you admit.

“In that case, allow me to guide you,” he offers. He steps to a docking station, turning on light instrumental music before looking back at you.

You tilt your head in confusion, but step in front of the easel when he extends his hand towards it. Moving around you, he gathers a palette, filling it with various colors. Taking a brush, he hands it and the palette to you. As you step forward, you’re startled when he moves up right behind you.

“Are you ok with this?” he asks covering your hand with his own, fingers grasping the brush. Throat dry and heart pounding you can only nod; truthfully, you’re a wreck but would be lying if you said you weren’t getting a thrill of having him so close to you.

“Relax your arm, that’s it,” he says lowly in your ear and you have to suppress a shiver. Slowly he guides your hand to the paint, selecting the color he wants, and then pulls back, placing the brush against the pure white canvas. With slow, deliberate movements, his breath fanning over your neck, he moves your hand in long sweeping motions.

“I find painting while listening to music to be the most inspirational,” he says gathering another color and moving back to the canvas. “It allows your mind to wander free but at the same time helps you focus on conveying the emotion of the piece, translating it from audio to visual.”

All you can focus on is the heat of his body next to yours.

Akashi has no idea what possessed him to try this, he barely knows you and yet here he is, his chest pressed into your back, his hand over yours, his face so near your skin he can smell your perfume and all of it is working against his finely tuned self-control.

When the paint runs low, he releases you, both of you missing the contact more than you probably should. You stand stock still, eyes focused on the work you’ve been creating together, though Akashi has been doing pretty much all the work. Unable to stop yourself, you reach a hand forward, the images he’s created feeling like their sucking you into their depths. Warm reds, yellows, oranges and pinks swirl together in a typhoon of color, darker purples and blues creating the impression of leaves dancing on a fiery wind and in the center of it all there is what appears to be a heart.

You turn your head at the same moment Akashi looks up from what he’s doing. When your eyes lock, it’s as if the rest of the world disappears. You have no idea what’s going on between you, but it feels intense and carnal and…the clatter of the art supplies landing roughly on the table snap you out of your haze just long enough to realize Akashi is heading towards you at a rapid pace.

A second later, you’re in his arms, his forehead pressed against yours.

“_____-san,” he breathes out, your name a statement and a question all at once. You barely nod and his lips are against yours. He kisses you gently at first, but it builds quickly, his arms wrapping around your waist tighter. He turns you around, pushing you against the closed doors, making you gasp when your back hits the handles.

Akashi curses inwardly; it’s not like him to make a mistake like that. Intent on rectifying it, he whirls you to the side, opening the door and pulling you inside. He lands on the chaise, tugging you down onto his lap, his head craning up to reach your lips once more.

He can’t get enough of your taste, the natural sweetness of your mouth, the intoxicating scent of your perfume and the feel of your body beneath his hands. He’s never felt so out of control in his life.

You’re sure any second now your heart is going to give out. Akashi is, like with everything else, excellent at kissing. A gasp escapes your lips, eyes flying open, when his hand, hot and confident, trails over the slightly exposed portion of your back between your shirt and your skirt. He pushes it up further when he feels you lean more into him, pleased you want him to keep touching you like this, his already bright eyes flashing with heat looking at your dazed face.

A hand on the back of your head pulls your lips back to his. He’s more insistent, more intense, holding you tighter and making your head swim. Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, he smirks as you moan lightly, tongue dancing with yours as he enters your mouth and you let him lead.

“Akashi-san,” you whimper, knees shaking from the effort to hold yourself up.

“Hmmmm?” he mumbles against your skin and you tremble as his hand goes even higher.

Looking into his eyes, you hesitate, nervous about continuing. You don’t even know why you’ve allowed yourself or him to do this; you barely know each other! And sure, you have friends and acquaintances who hook up all the time, sometimes with complete strangers, but this isn’t how you normally are. The thought that you could have blown a chance with Akashi, of something remotely real…

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks pulling away slightly.

You don’t, but you will, because you’re not this girl. You only have to nod once and he’s helping you to stand back up, though you’re unsure if your legs will hold your weight. Thankfully, he keeps hold of you.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…”you swallow once, finding it ludicrous that you could have your tongue down his throat thirty seconds ago but you can’t get it to work long enough to tell him how you feel. Shaking your head, you try again. Looking back up you finally breath out, “I really like you and…and I’m not usually this…this…” you can’t even say the words, looking away again.

He draws you back to his face, kissing the tip of your nose and smiling. “_____-san, please do not think that I think less of you because of this. Besides, I’m the one who put us in this position. It should be me asking your forgiveness for my complete lack of decorum.”

“Does that mean…do you regret this?” you ask fearfully.

He shakes his head. “Not at all, in fact,” he leans in again, kissing you gently before admitting, “I’d really like to take you out on a date some time.”

“I’d like that,” you whisper.

“Next Saturday?”

“Perfect,” you reply smiling.

“Good, then let’s get this project done, shall we?” he asks, taking your hand and leading you back out to the terrace.

Needless to say, you both received an “A” for your “stunning representation of the tumultuous storm of the heart”.


On this day in music history: September 13, 1972 - “Close To The Edge” the fifth album by Yes is released. Produced by Eddy Offord and Yes, it is recorded at Advision Studios in London from Early - Mid 1972. After the huge commercial breakthrough success of their then current album “Fragile” and the tour that follows, Yes will not stop to rest on their laurels,  and immediately begin work on what is their most ambitious work to date. Composed of only three tracks, it is dominated by two extended side long suites titled “Close To The Edge” and “And You And I” (consisting of four movements per side that are linked together) clocking in at eighteen and nineteen minutes each. The first half written by lead singer Jon Anderson and guitarist Steve Howe, is inspired by German author Herman Hesse’s novel “Siddartha”, which at the time is being read by Anderson, who is fascinated by the main character’s quest for spiritual enlightenment. The theme of spirituality also extends to the albums second half “And You And I”, with further musical contributions from the other band members. The cover artwork designed by artist Roger Dean is the first to feature the now famous “Yes” bubble logo that become synonymous with the band. The album is released to a rapturous reception by fans and critics alike, and is widely regarded to be one of the best progressive rock albums of all time, also becoming Yes’ commercially successful release. “Close To The Edge” peaks at number three on the Billboard Top 200, and is certified Platinum in the US by the RIAA.

The Stark Internship (Part 3)

“Y/N?” I looked up to the boy in the mask. “You have a really pretty smile, you know?” I felt a blush creep across my cheeks, looking down to the pad. “Why’re you blushing?”

“So, I’m thinking, keep the spider on the chest, but we’ll go smaller, and I think I’ll put some controls in it” I thought out loud, copying the spider from Peter’s suit onto the drawing, but much smaller. “People will soon learn your name, you won’t need a massive spider to let them know”

Peter and I began work on the suit, extending the red from his chest down the arms. We decided to include a black stripe, which would spiral around his arm subtly, leading to the web shooters. We talked about trivial things, musical tastes, food preferences and favourite subjects growing up as I sketched through the design.

“Do you mind, if I asked about the song they played in music today. I assume it reminds you of your parents” He asked quietly, taking a shaky breath. I nodded then looked down.

“It’s just hard. 7 years on and still that song… god. When you hear something, and it reminds you of someone you lost… there’s nothing you can do to stop the pain that it brings, and” I took a shaky breath as Peter reached out, placing his hand on my leg. I looked down and smiled gently. “Tony knows how it feels, to some extent. He was much older than me, and he lost both. But to lose a parent, it’s something no kid can get over” I sighed.

“My parents died when I was six” Peter dropped, “car accident” he elaborated, making another sob escape my throat. “Ben was shot, by a robber that I let escape” he added. “I know what it’s like to lose the people you love, and even to blame yourself” He held onto me tightly, just combing his fingers through my hair.

“I lie and say I never knew my mum, in reality, she and my father both died in a car accident” I looked up to Peter, I didn’t need to see his face to know he was sympathetic. “I was in it too…” I sighed, looking down.

“Your accident…” he muttered, I nodded to myself. “you don’t need to talk about it”

“I do, I need to tell someone that isn’t Tony or Happy” I ran my hand through my hair before letting out a sigh. “I don’t want to be here… Tony said I missed so much by not going to school, I don’t think I did, I don’t miss the days being free of staring, taunting…” I sighed and pushed the glasses further up my nose.

“School sucks, but we’ve got three years left and then we’re done. You’ve already got a job for life, and either way you’re too smart not to get one immediately. I’ll find something, just to get me by, because I just want to help people” he sighed gently. I nodded and turned to Peter, smiling. We’re so young, but he’s right. I’ve got my job, the job I’ll do for the rest of Tony’s time as Iron Man, and he’s Spider-Man, no matter what he does, Peter is a good person, and he’s a strong, grown guy.

“We were going to an interview, for a private school. From very young, my parents knew I was different, they knew I understood things far advanced than other children my age, I remembered everything ever said to me, everything I had seen. This school, it was founded for extraordinary children. I don’t know how they found me, my parents hid my gifts from those around. We were nearly there, and…” I took a breath, and Peter squeezed my thigh gently. I nodded and smiled to him before continuing.

“A truck ran a stop sign, it hit my mother’s side, she died on impact, dad had broken bones all on his right side, but he was alive. The truck overturned, it had corrosive materials, alongside other things… illegal things” Peter gasped and I nodded, he took my hand in his free one, holding tightly, which calmed my nerves.  “I got out, running to my dad. I was a kid, there was nothing I could do, but I wanted to save him, I was so scared. I opened the door and he was unconscious, I somehow got him out, and laid him on the road, I was crying, screaming. Trying anything to wake him up… finally he did, just as the explosion happened. The last thing I saw was his brains hitting my face, alongside the materials and fuel” I heard Peter’s shaky breath, but he didn’t say a word. I swallowed and wiped away a tear, squeezing tightly on his hand.

“His phone rang, and I was in so much pain… I couldn’t see, but I picked it up, answering… it was Tony. I screamed down the phone, and he knew. He could hear the pain, I couldn’t get anything out, just the screams that ripped through my throat. He got JARVIS to track down the phone, and he flew there. Tony arrived before an ambulance could. I remember him prying me from what was left of my dad’s torso. I clung to him, and I never let go, not even when they flushed and tested my vision” I bit into my lip and fiddled with the ring Tony had given me, his mother’s ring.

“That’s why Tony is so protective, why he pulled you out of school and why he trusts you with so much” I nodded and sat upright in my seat. Peter let go of my hand, his arm wrapping around my waist as he pulled me closer, his stool wheeling closer to me, as he hugged me tightly.

“He was there when the doctors said I would never see again, he fought the courts to have custody of me. They believed he was unfit to care for me because of his lifestyle… Tony proved that there would be no-one better. He adjusted everything in his life for me.” Peter nodded and I could tell he was smiling “He even launched his own investigation, I don’t know how much he spent, but there was a team of investigators… It turns out it was some mob, moving nuclear weaponry. The route was not often used anymore so they used it to move products”

“What did he do?” Peter asked quietly, I chuckled.

“Have a guess, this is Tony Stark” I looked at the suit and smiled to myself, we’d already come up with so much, pretty much completing the aesthetic parts.

“So, when you first went blind… how did you adjust?” peter asked another of his many questions. I chuckled and shrugged.

“How does anyone adjust, you have to. At first Tony got me a stick, which I hated. But it helped me with my spatial awareness, I learnt echolocation and how to read braille. Happy and Tony allowed for me to learn to better use my touch senses, also helping me to learn Happy’s face, and his expressions” I smiled and watched as Peter’s head tilted.

“I never knew Happy before, he’s always known me as Tony’s blind tag along” I smirked.

“How do you learn expressions?” Peter asked and I smiled. “Like, do you guess based on what you remember?”

“Close your eyes” I whispered, “have you closed them?” I asked and Peter nodded, I took his hands in mine, removing the gloves before gently placing them on my cheeks. “Forget what you remember about me, feel, tell me what you notice” I whispered. “Don’t think, just say what you feel” I relaxed my face and closed my eyes, feeling his hands graze across my skin.

“Your cheeks are warm, warmer than the rest of your face. The skin is smooth, and soft. You haven’t had acne issues” he noted and I nodded gently. His fingers slowly moved higher, sliding quickly over my glasses, taking them off and running the fingertips across the tip of my nose, tracing the shapes of my eyes. “You have a slight bump, probably from the glasses you wear” I smirked and he ran a thumb across my eyebrow.

“What do they tell you?” I asked and felt him shrug.

“Nothing, you have eyebrows” he laughed. I shook my head, pulling the glasses from my face, watching as the faint details faded to black once more.

“Take off the mask, I can’t see. I’ll show you” He nodded and his hands retracted, I heard the static material of his mask slide over his hair, and Peter lifted my hands to his cheeks. “warm, you’re blushing. This is very intimate for you, something you aren’t used to. Unsurprisingly” He smiled and my thumb grazed along his jawline. “Smooth, but not shaven, you haven’t started growing facial hair yet. The mask makes your face very warm, you’re not completely comfortable in it yet. It irritates your skin” He nodded.

My fingertips moved higher, to his forehead, I quickly felt over it and bit into my lip, my hands moving to the corner of his eyes. “Your skin is tense over your forehead, a sign of youth, but the corners of your eyes have small, almost unnoticeable wrinkles, you crinkle your eyes when you smile and laugh, which you do a lot” he nodded and I took a deep breath, grazing my thumb over his lips. “smooth, soft. You lick your lip a lot, but not your top lip. Probably when you’re in deep thought, an innate habit”

“You’re good at this” he laughed and I nodded, sitting back. I waited until Peter pulled the mask back on before putting my glasses back on.

“I did research into it, as I do with everything. It turns out, when you lose a sense, that sector of the brain doesn’t just turn off. It adjusts, it compensates, taking in more sensory information from other receptors. Auditory ques are registered in the visual part of my brain, that’s why the small change of wind when you smile is still registered. I know expressions based on the wind, the warmth, the sound sometimes” He let out a sigh and nodded.

“That’s incredible” I smirked then looked down to the page, tracing my finger over the lines. “that’s how you knew I was lying when we met?” I nodded and he chuckled. “So I can’t lie to you?” I shook my head.

“Not even about that girl you like” He sat back quickly, took in a breath and I smiled. “I won’t tell her, I’m blind, so what would I know” I chuckled and he slapped my arm gently. “So, tell me about her?”

“She’s smart, and kind, but I don’t know if I would want to go anywhere with it… I don’t think we would work, as much as I would love for it to” He contemplated.  

“Good, but Peter… if you want this” I motioned to the suit. “You need to really think about it… because dating this girl, it would put her in danger, a lot of danger. Its why Tony and Pepper ended, its why Tony and I have never officially revealed how we know one another. Only Happy actually knows”

“How do you, I assumed your dad worked for Tony” Peter muttered and I nodded.

“Everyone who heard the story did. Gregory Howard wasn’t a name many people would know, because he dropped his surname. My father was Tony’s twin, the older twin. Named after an Uncle and his Father. Dad dropped the Stark name after his parents died, he didn’t want anything to do with Stark industries, but he still loved his brother, even though they lived completely different lifestyles. My father had a small house, married his childhood sweetheart. He had a child and worked in accounting for Stark Industries. He calculated Tony’s funds” Peter gasped and I shrugged.

“But your name…” he pointed and I nodded.

“My mother’s maiden name, she never changed her name after marriage, and they agreed to not name me my father’s name, because of the onslaught that would come with it” Peter nodded and I smiled. “We had a simple life at first, until the accident. I didn’t even understand why Uncle Ant would come and go so randomly. I was just happy to see him, because he was fun. He brought fun toys” I smiled.

“Tony must have loved it” I nodded, “a smart niece to play with”

“Tony hates kids, but he loved me, from the day I was born… Tony would visit at least once a week, always bringing me toys, and books. He bought me my first calculator when I was one. He would read fusion theory to me at bedtime” Peter laughed and I nodded, remembering my old house. “Dad hated it, he didn’t want me to be involved in Stark Industries, not while they were distributing weapons. If he knew what Tony did now, I think dad would have accepted it” I could feel his smile and the warmth coming from Peter, even from his distance.

“Your father would be proud, no matter what you did” Peter whispered and I sighed.

“I hope so, I do everything I can to make him proud” Peter wrapped an arm around me and squeezed me against this chest gently. I smiled.

“I’m sorry for what happened earlier. I know things have been rough for you. I think I know what you’re feeling. You’ve been going through a lot of difficult things, with not having your father and all. Well, take it from an old man. Those things send us down a road. And I know that whatever road you’ll end up on, you’ve got great things waiting for you, son. So, come on home, Peter. You’re my hero, and I love you” Peter whispered, I looked to him and he pulled out his phone. “The voicemail Ben left me, it’s the last thing he said to me, and I’ll never delete it” he put the phone away and let out a sigh.

“What happened, I know you said he was shot?” Peter nodded, I bit into my lip and he sighed. The smell of salt flooded my nose and I frowned, he was crying. I reached up, quickly wiping away the tear. “It’s okay Pete, you don’t need to talk about it”

“We had an argument, over something so stupid. I was stupid, I went out to ‘save the world’ and forgot a promise I made to him. He confronted me about it, like he should have. But I got mad, I was annoyed because he didn’t know what I was doing. Now I see he was right, I should have been there for May… but I walked out, it was late, and dark. Ben came looking for me. I saw a man robbing some place, I can’t even remember where it was… I didn’t stop him. Ben tried, he wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t even fit. He was an old man doing the right thing, what I didn’t do. And he was shot for trying to stop something I could have” Peter let out a shaky breath and I smiled weakly to him, not even sure how to console him.

“I held him as he died, he knew I was there, he whispered my name, just before he died. I went after the guy, I haven’t found him yet, but I won’t stop looking. Ben told me once, something my father stood by, something he stood by. It’s what I will always aspire to stand by, and why I will always be Spider Man” I raised an eyebrow and Peter smiled. “He believed that if you could do good things for other people, you had a moral obligation to do those things” Peter let out a shaky breath and I took his hand in mine, squeezing lightly.

“He said that in the argument, didn’t he?” Peter nodded and I sighed.

“and I threw it back in his face, I asked where dad was, why he wasn’t telling me himself. It hurt Ben so much, and I’ll never be able to take that back” Peter whispered, I sighed and put a hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t pretend to know how it must feel, but Ben loved you Peter, as did your mum and dad… they all loved you, they knew you would grow up to be an amazing man. More than anything, Ben knew you loved him” I muttered, softly. Hearing his shaky breathing, and the sobs that caught in his throat.

“May tells me to stop carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders” He smiled, I nodded and let out a sigh.

“you should, it’s a dangerous thing Peter” He raised an eyebrow and I frowned. “It’s nothing, just thoughts of a concerned girl” I mumbled then stood up. “Drink? I’ve got juice, water?” I asked casually and peter shook his head. I quickly got a glass of water before sitting down and smiling to the boy in front of me. “you can change out of it now, if you want. I’m getting a headache” I mumbled, Peter nodded and walked out. “What are you doing to me Tony?” I groaned, slouching back.

My phone rang, and I quickly picked up, holding it to my ear.

“Sorry to call so unexpectedly miss, but things are moving fast. I think Tony is planning something soon. In Germany, he knows our plans to move Bucky to an isolated location” Steve mumbled, clearly trying to be quiet on his end.

“Yeah, I’ve heard him bringing up Germany” I heard Peter hiding behind the door. “Listen, I can’t talk too much right now, I’ve got a friend round. I’ll speak to you later, if you’re free?”

“Sure, just call me on this phone. I’ll be with Bucky all night” he responded before quickly hanging up. I put the phone in my pocket.

“Peter, you know you can’t sneak up on me” I called out, he walked around the corner, chuckling nervously.

“Who was that?” he asked shyly. “You were talking about Germany?” I nodded quickly before smiling.

“My only friend from Malibu, talking about planning a holiday… we want away from Tony. So, we’re planning on staying away from where he might be” I chuckled and smiled. “Otherwise my holiday will be spent with Tony telling me not to do things”

“You won’t be going to Germany with him?” I shook my head and he frowned. “Damn, I was hoping I’d at least have a friend with me” he laughed, making my heart drop slightly.

“Tony wouldn’t even let me near the country. I wouldn’t want to go anyway if you are. Even if we both asked. You’re definitely going then?” he nodded and I sighed.

“What?” he asked, sitting beside me.

“I don’t want you to, it’s dangerous. I’m worried Tony is going to get you killed” Peter hummed quietly and I bit into my lip. “You’re not ready for this kind of task. Have you ever killed someone Peter?” He shook his head. “Because everyone there has, most of them have killed more than a dozen… hell. You’re going to be fighting Steve Rogers, and he’s the most moral man, but at his age… just think about how many he killed in the war, hydra? When the avengers first came together, how many aliens attacked?” Peter nodded and I let out a groan.

“then the three hydra hele carriers, they can hold up to 3000 people on each. I’ll give Steve the credit that they only had skeleton crews, but that’s 700 a piece. 2100 hydra agents he killed that day, probably alongside a few other people. Don’t think he’s a killing machine, I mean I like Steve. We get on quite well, even if Tony hates it. Steve doesn’t like killing, he hates it, but if its kill or someone else will get killed. He will do anything to protect the people”

“Do you think he’ll try to kill me?” I shook my head.

“He’ll know you’re a kid, Steve isn’t stupid. He’ll also know this was Tony’s plan, use a kid to distract him. Steve will hate this as much as I do. He doesn’t want young people involved in saving the world, hell if it were up to him then it would only be him and tony having this confrontation. He doesn’t want people involved” Peter nodded and I sighed. “My uncle is much more dangerous anyway, I’m worried about Steve”

“You think Mr Stark will hurt the Captain?” I nodded.

“I love my uncle, but Steve hasn’t nuked an entire alien population, Tony hasn’t ever shown any fear over killing someone to get his job done. He wont hold back just because he worked alongside these people. They are just another enemy to him now, standing in the way of what he wants” Peter bit into his lip and I ran a hand through my hair. Just be careful Pete, this war, it will have casualties” I took a deep breath, looking straight ahead.

“are you worried about me?” he asked with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, but don’t let that go to your head spiderling” Peter laughed. “I see so much potential in you, not as a hero but as a person. Tony doesn’t see Peter, he sees a distraction in the fight” the boy next to me nodded and I sighed.

“Do you think I’ll get hurt? Or..” he trailed off, too worried to say what he was thinking.

“I don’t know. Honestly Peter, with this war. I can’t guess who will make it out, but I don’t think it’s going to end well. I’m just hoping Tony comes back” I mumbled, Peter’s breath caught in his throat. “Even if he doesn’t get injured, how do I know he’ll still be uncle Ant when he comes back from this all?” I asked quietly, Peter placed a hand on my shoulder and sat in the seat beside me.

“Mr Stark isn’t going to get hurt, and he isn’t going to change” Peter whispered and I rolled my eyes. “I promise, I will make sure he does” I shook my head quickly and stood up,

“No, Peter. Forget I said anything. Nothing was discussed. You forget what I said about Tony and we never talk about it again” I quickly snapped, walking to my desk and shutting the notebook. “We aren’t friends, I’m here to watch over you and mould you into a hero, don’t start trying to be my friend” I mumbled.

“But, I thought-“ I cut peter off by letting out a sigh.

“What, that by some miracle the young girl Tony brought along just happened to want to start school, with you, the next day… this is a part of his plan okay. He wants us to be friends, he wants you to fall in love with me, because he knows that if you did, you’d do anything for him, to keep me happy” I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

“I think it would be best if you just went Pete, I’m not in the mood to be dealing with Tony’s shit tonight” I snapped, not saying another word. I heard Peter gathering his things, his breathing uneven and his heartrate getting faster as each moment passed. He walked to the door, stopping as his hand held the handle.

“I don’t think Mr Stark was trying to get me to fall in love. I think he wants you to” Peter whispered.

“Why would he do that, I’m broken Peter. I’ll never have a normal life, and even if I could… why would he want me to date someone with powers? He sees what it did to him and pepper, to my family. He would never want me to fall in love with you Peter” I mumbled, keeping my back to the young boy behind me.

“At least you decided that early, before we could start caring about each other” he breathed, before quickly walking out of the room. I groaned and fell back into the sofa, burying my face into the cushion. I pulled out my phone and dialled the first person I could think of.

“Rogers, what can I do for you?” He spoke, cheerfully.

“Hi Cap. I need to talk to you, is an hour good?” I asked softly, not wanting to sound suspicious.

“Yeah, same building?” I hummed and closed my eyes tightly. “You okay kid?”

“Yeah, just need time away from Tony and the Spider… I realised there a lot more to Tony’s plan, not to hurt you though” I sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve offered, looking across the roof as I landed. “Spider?” he asked softly.

I looked around, listening out for anyone suspicious. “We’re clear. No Stark spies around” I smirked.

“Okay, that’s going to need explaining… but first, you called about Tony and some Spider?” Steve asked, I nodded and shifted in my seat.

“Tony’s up to something, and I’m not completely sure what, or who it’s supposed to affect. But I just know he’s trying” Steve cocked an eyebrow. “He was so determined for me to meet this guy, to come with him, he used the excuse of our ages… but he enrolled me into this boy’s school, and I know for a fact he paid them off so I would be in all his classes. He wants me to design his suit, and even…” I bit into my lip, trying to figure out what to call Peter.

“We’ll call him Tom, for sake of conversation” Steve offered, I nodded quickly.

“Even Tom asked me to help design his suit, not aware that Tony had already requested it. And he’s rushing it. Tony wants the suit done by next Monday. But, today with Tom… it’s like, we’re quickly becoming friends, and he even offered to ensure Tony came home safe, so I wouldn’t worry about Tony coming home safe… I’m not sure if Tony’s doing it to get P-Tom to be a sacrificial lamb, or if he’s trying to keep me distracted so I don’t try to end it before the battle begins” I ran a hand through my hair and Steve let out a sigh.

“You know what I think?” Steve asked, and I shrugged lightly. “I think, Tony doesn’t understand. I think he probably has brought you together to get Tom to be more willing to fight beside him, but only because he knows the boy will fall for you, and I assume Tom knows who Tony is to you?” I nodded.

“Tom falling in love with you would only do Tony more good, because he would fight harder to protect you. I don’t think Tony planned it that way, but it’s how it seems it might play out. But I think, in all honesty, I think Tony might just have brought you along because he found someone like you, someone that can keep up with that brain of yours” Steve tapped my temple and I chuckled. “Seriously kid, I think he just wants you to be happy, and feel like a normal teenager for once”

“I doubt it, but I would like to think so” I laughed, making Steve chuckle.

Black Eyes - Imagine Request

Request: By @jeffry4ever : Could I get a fanfic of DeanxReader with a lot of fluff and maybe some angst. Can it be from possession and they like talking between them out of it?? But of curse in the end they end up making out or something.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam (mentioned), demon.

Word count: 2,077

Warnings: Possessed Dean (duh), gore, physical and psychological violence, SLIGHT mentions of sex, language (?) Un-edited.

A/N: WHo doesn’t love a deanmon fic? Well, I honestly do and I hope you like it just as much. Feedback is highly appreaciated (positive and negative). Thank you so much for requesting.

How had it happen? Who had broken the symbol, the tattoo? Does it matter? Dean was… He wasn’t himself, or maybe he was, deep inside him.

“Dean!” She screamed, thick drops of sweet falling over her face like tears.

“Dean is gone!” He roared. He looked just like Dean, and his voice was the same, it was all him except for the empty black eyes that substituted his green ones.

“Dean, please!” She cried once more. Her voice was raspy and her throat was about to start bleeding.

The night was cold, a soft rain falling over and mixing with her sweat as she walked in reverse, trying to keep a good distance between his possessed self and her. There were bodies all over the ground, as well as puddles of blood that were slowly being washed off with the help of the rain.

“You stubborn girl, no wonder why he likes you.” The demon hissed through Dean’s body, “Why can’t you see? He is gone and he won’t come back.” He showed her the tattoo.

How many times had she traced that same tattoo with her cold fingers in the morning? How many times had she zoned out by the simple sight of it? She knew that tattoo by memory, and that, whatever she was seeing, wasn’t it. It had a huge red line across it, presumably drawn with a knife, and dark blood had most of it covered.

“Dean, you have to fight this!” She begged, crying. The demon had started stepping forward, closer to her.

Dean’s laugh rang on her ears, except it wasn’t his – at least not completely. The demon had taken full control of the hunter. What to do?

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…” Her words were clear, and her eyes were glued to the hunter.

The demon panicked, frantically looking for something in the back pocket of Dean’s jeans.

“Omnis satanica protestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversii…” The demon found what he was looking for and turned around, giving his back to (Y/N).

“Not gonna work, darling!” Had she ever heard Dean calling her ‘darling’? Perhaps not, but it didn’t matter right now.

“Omnis congregatio et secta…” What was he doing? “Diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte ecclesiam,” the demon roared and (Y/N) noticed there was blood coming out of his arm “tuam secura tibi facias libertate” she spoke fast, willing to finish before the demon could hurt Dean more, “”servire, te rogamus, audio nos.”

There was no black smoke, no more painful groans, no nothing except for a cold laugh she hadn’t heard on Dean before. The demon turned back to face (Y/N), flashing his black eyes cockily.

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” He grinned.

The huntress’ breath turned faster and heavier, her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it. What to do? She looked down at his arm, the one that had been bleeding; the demon had carved a binding link.

“Son of a bitch…” She whispered.

“Language.” The demon joked, “You’re already talking like this… scumbag.”

“Don’t dare to talk about him like that!” She cried. The demon tilted his head and gave her a fake smile.

“Aww, little girl is in love.” He pouted, “But I thought you two had agreed not to… You know, because it’s not a serious relationship.”

“Shut up, bitch!” (Y/N) roared, “Dean!”

“He won’t come to save you, not anymore.” Tears fell from her eyes, “Don’t cry, it’s not worth it. Trust me.” The demon smirked, “I know how he feels and truth is; he doesn’t love you that much.”

“Dean!” She begged once more, trying her best to ignore the demon’s words.

“He is only there for the sex; otherwise, he would’ve dumped you many years ago.” The demon hissed, “In fact, he thought the maid from the motel is even hotter than you.”

She couldn’t control it, not anymore. Burning rage grew on her insides, and it wasn’t even because the demon was pissing her off; no, it was raw jealousy.

“Demons always lie.” She mumbled, clenching her fists tightly as her criteria got clouded slowly by her getting jealous.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” The demon shrugged his shoulders as a mocking smile grew on Dean’s face.

Was it her inner rage? Was it the hunter impulse? She would never know, but one thing was sure: She had tackled the demon and now she was over him just the same way she had been over Dean that same morning; except she wasn’t kissing him, no, instead her fists were punching his face.

After a few punches, a force threw her away, slamming her body against the nearest wall.

“There it is!” The demon laughed as he stood up. If her fists had made any kind of harm, it was gone by the time he walked in front of her. “You know it’s true.”

“Dean, you better fight this or I swear to Chuck I’ll kick yours and the fudging demon’s ass!” She fumed as her eyes met the black ones.

“He can’t hear you.”

A strong fist punched her once, then twice and then a last time before she was dropped to the floor. The demon lifted her by the hem of the shirt as punched her again, breaking her nose in the process.

“Dean, please.” She mumbled weakly.

“Dean, please.” The demon mimicked in a high voice, “Dean is gone, baby.”

The girl managed to let go of his grip, falling instantly to the floor. She tried to crawl over to were her knife had fallen before. The demon laughed dryly as he turned her to lay flat back on the floor with a kick.

“You poor thing… Think you can beat me when I have this meat suit?” He extended Dean’s arms, showing of his body.

“Dean, please… Don’t do this.” The demon sat on her, causing her to lose a bit of air for a second. His face was right in front of (Y/N)’s. The black eyes were green back again, and although they were darker, she recognized them as Dean’s. “Dean…” She weakly cupped his face, getting a smug grin from the demon, “Remember that time we stopped in front of the Grand Canyon to sleep? Although only Sam slept because you and I got out of the car and…”

“Won’t work.”

“And we just stared at it for over an hour before we…” The demon put some weight back on her, again losing breath for a second, “We ended up on Baby’s hood, looking at the stars and…”

“You’re losing your time.” The demon chanted, although she could tell it was starting to panic.

“Remember all those nights on Baby’s hood, counting the stars and…” She coughed, “And telling each other stories? You loved them, remember?”

“Stop, it’s a waste of time.” The demon ordered, pulling her hair.

“Remember that time we celebrated your birthday for the first time in years?” She cried out as she felt her scalp giving up, “You were amazed by how many people showed up.”

“I said stop!” The demon hissed, ripping a whole strand of hair off her head. The huntress cried in pain, not willing to surrender.

“Remember all those morning cooking breakfast together, and the Netflix binges, or the road trips… Please Dean, remember.” She begged, “You can do this…”

The demon hissed, pulling a knife out of Dean’s pocket and pressing it against her neck. Small droplets of blood started dripping, but it was nothing compared to the amount of blood there would be if Dean didn’t take control.

“Last words?”


“Awful choice.” And just when the demon was about to rip her throat out, his green eyes became light again, breathing in deeply as he managed to supress the beast. “(Y/N)…” Dean mumbled.

“Dean.” She whispered. Dean broke the binding link just in the same way the demon had broken his tattoo, nodding at the huntress for her to start the exorcism again.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…” Her voice was barely audible, but Dean could feel it working, “Omnis satanica protestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversii…” Dean roared, a fight for control taking place inside his mind, “Omnis congregatio et secta…” Cough, “Diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte ecclesiam,” his eyes turned black again as black smoke started to come out “tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audio nos.”

Dean fell over her, in the same way he had done before – breathless, sweaty, tired… Before he could do or say anything else, the beaten huntress became unconscious, drifting off to the dream world.


“Heya, sweetheart.” Dean mumbled, caressing her cheek as her eyes fluttered open. Although it took her a few extra seconds to adjust her blurry vision, she recognized Dean instantly.

“Dean…” She breathed out.

“I’m here.” He smiled, although she wasn’t happy. A soft punch hit his shoulder and Dean knew that, if it weren’t for her crappy estate, it would’ve been a lot harder. “What was that for?”

“I know about the maid at the motel.” She groaned, “And about why you stay with me… You lying piece of shit!” And although she was nearly voiceless, Dean froze at her intensity.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Dean replied in a joking tone, although he was concerned as hell.

“The demon told me you liked the maid better, and he told me you only stick around for sex…” Dean huffed, not letting her insult him again.

“Demons always lie.” Dean mumbled, stroking her hair.

(Y/N) groaned again as she rolled to her side; they were still at the alley, among the rest of the dead bodies. She managed to get on her feet and struggled to walk away.

“(Y/N), do you really trust a demon better?” Dean asked. He sounded truly hurt.

“Maybe I do, considering the fact that you’ve been acting strange lately.” Her raspy voiced added some spice to her already pissed off statement.

Dean breathed out a sigh and pulled her, the pushed her to a wall, trapping her between his body and the cold bricks.

“Look at me, (Y/N).” He commanded, but the girl didn’t obey. Instead, she looked anywhere but him. “Please look at me.”

“You could’ve told me how you truly felt and…”

“Look at me, dammit!” Dean growled, finally getting her to look at him.

“Do you really think she’s hot?” She cried.


“Answer me!” She cried.

“Want to know why Sam didn’t come? Because he’s back at the motel flirting… Possibly already in bed with her! Yes, I told Sam she was hot, but Heaven knows I would never consider anyone hotter than you.” Dean mumbled.

“Why have you been acting so strange, then?” Dean breathed out heavily. He licked his lips and looked away for a second before focusing back on her bloody face.

“I just… I can’t… It’s too early and…”

“And what, Dean? Why didn’t you just dump me?” She roared, taking off the last bit of patience in Dean.

“Because I love you! I love you, dammit! And I wanted to tell you but I was afraid that you wouldn’t say it back and…” Her eyes became as wide as possible considering the many impacts she received around them.

“Do you really mean that?” She interrupted him. Dean shut up and nodded.

“Look at me in the eyes, and tell me if I’m lying.” He spoke, cupping her face careful not to touch any open wound.

“I love you too.” She whispered, nuzzling in his hand.

“You do?” Dean sighed and she nodded.

Soon, her broken lips were over his. It wasn’t the kind of kiss they were expecting to get after they said those three words, but it was the best they could do without hurting her even more. Bloody or not, it reflected how much they loved each other, in good and in bad.

“Let’s get back.” Dean whispered over her lips, “That son of a bitch beat the crap out of you.”

She giggled. “I thought Sam was busy with the maid.”

“We can get our own room.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows flirtingly, causing her to giggle even more.

He held her hand tightly, a silent promise hidden in said gesture. They walked over to the black car and drove off to the motel room, where the rest of their lives began. They didn’t need a ring, or a big and fancy wedding, they just needed each other.

Finally got around to finishing that sketch of Angelo I did awhile back, I honestly don’t like how it came out but meh…

“Like I’ve explained before he is able to use both sets of his wings as hands and each one has a unique ability. The more larger and outer set is more in the range of attacks both melee and range, the more smaller and inner set is mostly for defensive purposes such as shielding and healing. If one of his wings gets too damaged it will be unusable until the next day so he’s always got to strategize his attacks or else he will end up messing up and lose one of his wings for the day. If all four of his wings are injured he will lose his ability to fly and his body will weaken, making him more vulnerable to his opponents. As for the sword in his hand, the pendent that he always wears is that sword. He’s able to unhook it from his suit and extend it out to make it transform, which is why he wears it on every suit he wears.”

Angelo/Angie belongs to me

Atmosphere - Raven/RedX, Chapter 1/?

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans. This is a work of fanfiction, and I am not making any money off of this.   

A/N: You asked, so I am attempting, keyword attempting, a multichapter RaeX. Do I know where this is going? Nope, not at all. But, this idea jumped in my head. Thanks xaphrin for the inspiration to write RaeX!

By the way, I had this ready to post last night, but I fell asleep while proofing! Sorry! Happy Reading! <3 

Atmosphere - Introduction 

It was hard for her to explain it.

Her team knew the basis of her psionic powers, but they never understood her empathy. 

Changeling thought that being an empath meant that she was able to read his mind. Raven gave up on trying to correct his understanding years ago; every time he brought it up, she simply told him he had no mind for her to read, so it really didn’t matter. 

Starfire had the hardest time comprehending what it meant. She thought everyone had the ability to an empath. She was sad when friends were sad, and was happy when her friends were happy. Wasn’t that meaning of being an empath? 

Cyborg and Nightwing seemed to interpret it as a combination of being able to read people’s minds and being able to sense how they were currently feeling. They thought she thought she was just feeling what they felt. 

They had no idea that she was able to see it and then some. 

Chapter One – Citrine 

“Shut this place down!” Nightwing ordered into his communicator, as he sprinted down the halls of the museum. “We can’t let Red-X escape with that sapphire.” 

“We still have civilians in the building.” Cyborg responded from his position at museum lobby. “I repeat: We still have civilians in the building.” 

Nightwing’s jaw tensed, as he weaved in between several patrons and staff. Of course, Red-X choose to break in and steal a very expensive sapphire during a reception. “We can’t risk him leaving. Cyborg, get into the mainframe and put this place on lockdown.” 

“Copy that.” Cyborg confirmed. 

“Starfire cover the entrance to the West Hall. Changeling I want you at the East. Raven, you take position at the South Hallway. I have the North.” Nightwing commanded over the communicator. “If you make contact with the suspect, do not engage alone. I repeat do not engage him alone.” 

Raven nodded, hearing the order fizzle from her communicator speaker. She calmly walked in between the museum patrons, ignoring the hushed whispers and wide-eyed stares. 

Normally, she would hover over crowds when pursuing a bad guy, but the low ceilings of the South Hall weren’t ideal for flight. Instead, she was forced to search amidst the crowd of Jump City’s elite. Two years ago, she traded her signature leotard for a neoprene black cat suit. Rather than the suit extending to her ankles, it stopped above her mid-thigh. 

She slipped her fingers underneath the hood of her suit, drawing it over her head as she stepped deeper into the sea of people. Raven clipped her communicator off her belt. “Raven calling Nightwing.” Her boots clicked after against the marble. 

“Nightwing responding.” 

“I think I have a lock on Red-X. Standby for confirmation.” She spoke softly, eyes following the dark figure at the entrance of a closed exhibit. 

“I want a report in three minutes.” 

“Copy that. Raven out.” She spoke, clicking the communicator off and placing it back on her hip. She moved faster toward the other side of the room. Her target was leaning against the back of a large vase. Though she couldn’t see a face, she highly doubted one of Jump City’s elite gentlemen would come to the reception in a black bodysuit. She slowly moved to the side, hoping to gain an advantage. “ 

The skull mask looked in her direction.   

“We can do this the hard way or the easy way, X.” 

“You forgot about the third option.” 

Keep reading



Several miles above the small town of Humbolt, Nebraska, resides Skybourne University, lovingly referred to as SkyU by those who have walked the halls. Skybourne came into existence in the 1960s when a group of superheroes came together. Having seen the toll a lack of trust and teamwork took on many of the other heroes of their generation, they decided to do something about it. Today, the university offers a uniqueprogram that allows for up and coming superheroes to get extended training before suiting up to fight crime—regardless of their parents’ moral alignments, or how late their powers came in.

It is a place for supers to discover their true potential.