#the sword angeled at his chiseled jaw

[aengelren]

Eren in the new odm gear I REPEAT. Eren in the new odm gear.

[averageanonymous]

Summary: Crowley realizes that the only way to save Aziraphale might be to follow his lead.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Crowley sits at the edge of the sea. Chalk-white cliffs stretch to either side of him. Salt-heavy wind tugs at his hair, his clothes, and he closes his eyes and breathes it deep into his lungs.

You could come back. To heaven.

His eyes snap open, yellow irises blown wide, erasing the humanity from his gaze. He bares his teeth, jaw clenching so hard it aches as the memories assault him, the same conversation on endless repeat behind his eyes. He grabs the first thing his hand touches, a large black stone, and hurls it. He watches it soar out over the ocean before it falls with barely a splash in the crashing waves.

"Damn it," he hisses, dropping his head into his hands, gripping fistfuls of his auburn hair until his scalp begins to protest. Seven days since Aziraphale left. It might as well have been months, years, for how the time seems to have stretched before him, well and truly alone for the first time in six millennia. His entire being aches vaguely, as though the absence of the angel tore something from him, ripped a hole somewhere within. It's the kind of wound that he knows won't heal. Not with time, or distance. Not with any distraction or attempt to forget.

He finally drops his hands back into his lap and sighs, a bone-deep, weary sigh that feels like it's dragging his very soul to the surface. He counters it with another deep inhale of the ocean-soaked air. When his eyes open again, the serpent has receded. He lifts his gaze to the sky, a muted blue studded with gray clouds that threaten rain.

"What were you thinking, angel," Crowley asks the sky in a hoarse voice, gravelly with disuse. He thinks of Aziraphale, in heaven, surrounded by the same feathered dicks that would have seen him exterminated in Hellfire, working with the damn Metatron, and his heart threatens to eject itself straight from his chest. "What the hell were you thinking?"

His every single instinct screams to Save Him. March straight into Heaven's hallowed halls and find the angel, throw him over his shoulder and take the elevator directly back to Earth, SAYONARA SUCKERS.

But he can't. His angel doesn't want to be saved. Not this time.

If I'm in charge... I can make a difference.

"Do you really think so," Crowley speculates idly to no one, "You think one angel, even an Archangel, even The Supreme Archangel, can stand in the way of the machine? Derail The Great Plan?" He shakes his head. Aziraphale is many things, intelligent to a fault, determined to the end. And the truth of it is that he's actually not an idiot. But he can't possibly believe... not really...

But he does, doesn't he. Because Aziraphale also has faith. And hope. And he does believe, believes with his whole soul, that there is goodness at the heart of Heaven, if he can just chisel through the thousands of years of crystallized corruption to get to it. To make a better world. A world where Heaven isn't standing over it - over them - with a flaming sword, ready to end everything.

A world where, maybe, they could be together.

Together. That's what he had said.

We can be together.

I need you.

Crowley grasps those words in his mind, clings to them like a lifeline, and holds them tight. Those words feel pure. They feel like truth. Aziraphale had to have known he would never return to Heaven. But he asked anyway. And he left despite Crowley's refusal to join him. Why?

Because, Crowley reminds himself, Aziraphale is an angel of principle. An angel who fights for what he believes in. Aziraphale is up there, fighting, right now. Crowley's hands tighten into fists. He feels his body shaking with the effort of trying to remain calm. It's not working.

Aziraphale is fighting, even though that meant he had to leave everything behind... Even though it meant leaving Crowley behind... He did it because it was the right thing to do.

Crowley gets to his feet abruptly. Aziraphale is fighting, and what is he doing? Maybe he can't be an angel himself, and maybe he can't steal his angel back from Heaven. But he doesn't have to sit around and wait for The End Of The World to happen. There is something he can do. If Aziraphale is determined to try to take down Upstairs from the inside, why can't he do the same from Downstairs? After all, Hell is absent its Grand Duke, and he always knew he would look damn good in a crown.

Crowley lets the Serpent take hold of him once again, golden eyes glowing, teeth sharpening into venom-soaked fangs. Snake skin accents his arms, creeps up the back of his neck, and his fingers are tipped with black claws. Finally, he allows his ink-black wings to unfurl. If he's going to be a Demon Prince of Hell, he had better look the part.

The wind gusts around him, and suddenly there is no one on the cliff overlooking the sea, and no sign anyone ever was, save a circle of scorched earth to mark the descension of a demon to Hell.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this foray into my imagination.

This started as "Crowley sits on a cliff" and this is where it went. Which was a totally different direction than I'd initially imagined. I guess what it comes down to is that, while I love some Angsty Crowley, I don't want him to mope forever. And I don't want him to be stuck thinking Aziraphale left because he didn't love him. He knows Az better than that! And, to be honest, I LOVE the idea of Crowley as Az's celestial opposite, Grand Duke of Hell, taking on the system from both sides. Dunno. Sounds fun to me.

[spoiler1001]

Lords of Shadow Maria fic.

To an immortal Time truly begins to lose all meaning and if one were to become cruel, the passage of time made connections to mortals worthless. It would be fairer to say that to be a vampire was just a state of eternal undeath and less like eternal life. A lifetime as a tree would be closer to eternal life. 

Alucard, a vampire formally known as Trevor Belmont, opened his eyes, pulling himself away from his thoughts of self-doubt and self-damnation. His gaze was locked in front of him, his head leaning against the glass. The rain beat against the other side of the glass. The noise drowned out his spiral. The sound of heartbeats and wet stomping approaching his hideout drew his attention. Alucard paused grabbing at a sword he no longer carried. After 200 years he still had that habit of grabbing that sword. 

Alucard sighed, leaning back. His shelter was barely large enough to hold his large stature comfortably. It was comparable to a prison cel, however self inflicted staying here wasl. The wet wood smelled like humidity and plants. Alucard sat near the bottom of a large stained glass mural of some angel fighting evil. Looking through it allowed him to see the incoming mobs, hoods nhiding their face. Lighting struck sporadically filling the room with picks and blues. Rain fell harder, sounding like rocks heating against the glass, threatening to break it. 

The footsteps grew closer. Alucard lifted his head to look at the heavy wooden door that marked the entrance of this building. It was once a holy building, one long abandoned by the deacons as members of their following succumbed to consumption and the town surrounding the building succumbed to fires and was reclaimed by nature. The holy men remembered to at least grab the holy artifacts while they moved on to the next town as they wept and grieved for the town they had left to rot. 

Despite the sound of the angry storm beating down on the building, there was a knock on the heavy door. The sound echoed through the room, kicking up dirt. Alucard raised an eyebrow at the gesture, an ambush rarely had the manners to announce itself. The group had a distinct smell, of ash and mud, their hearts beating rapidly in fear, even through the wooden door. Their breathing and small comments sounded muffled by helmets and face coverings. After a moment of Alucard not responding a second knock came louder. Alucard reached down and gripped a dagger strapped to his thigh. Solid steel lovingly coated blue and with a black cloth wrapped around it as a handle and a wolf carved into the blade. One more angry loud knock and Alucard stood up, the ceiling barely tall enough to allow him to stand up straight and not hit his head on the ceiling. He opened the door, the hinges screaming in protest. 

In the 200 years since Alucard set the plan in motion with his father, The Brotherhood of Light still had not used any new armor for the foot soldiers. The steel was cracked and rusted, and the helmets were missing pieces and falling apart around the men. What he could see of them, they were young, inexperienced in battle. 

A moment passed in silence. Finally, the man in front lifted the visor from his face. Alucard could see in his cheeks alone that Adulthood has yet to start chiseling away at the youth in his face. Awe and horror filled the expressions.

“We come with orders from Lady Renard.” The leader of the group said, a slight shake in his voice. 

“I am no longer affiliated with your brotherhood, orders mean nothing to me.” Alucard responded back, almost coldly.

“Then consider it a favor for a friend.” The man countered and handed Alucard a scroll in a metal case. 

With a clenched jaw, Alucard took the metal tube and stepped back into his sanctuary, slamming the door closed. After a minute of quiet the group left, mud sticking to them and pulling them into the ground with a slick squishing sound. 

Alucard gently opened the scroll and ran his fingers over the paper. His face was stoically neutral as he read the words etched into it. There was no change in his face, but his nails dug into the paper, poking holes in it. Alucard placed it back into the case, and turned on his heels, opening the door, and running into the storm.

[shu-sakamaki]

IM BACK 😃😃😃😃😃

I know that its the time when people are graduating or having their finals so good luck to everyone, congrats to everyone who got graduated and/or had great results and for the ones who failed this year, it's okay you can always do it again next year, you got this ! Also, happy pride month to all the beautiful people, this is our month, time to celebrate !!! ❤🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

I wanted to share some body headcanons about Shuu because rejet didn't draw him nipples (immad) and admin is queen so headcanons, periodpurr 💅💅

- Shuu is beautiful we all know that and his beauty is INTIMIDATING, when he walk in the room people can't stop to stare at him because of how magnificent he is, even strangers and it's actually kinda annoying going somewhere with him and everyone is just staring at your man with their jaws on the floor.

- He really has the most gentle face ever created, his skin look really soft and dewy (and it's probably soft) he truly looks like an angel who try to hide between the mortals, sir look like he's about to give you a blessing (ah, the irony)

- I want to dwell on his eyes, so here we go. Shuu has the prettiest eyes of the family (dis ma opinion) not only he have a nice azure color who reminds people of a nice blue sky in summer or a blue topaz but his eye shape is so pretty, like really large almond shaped eyes, surrounded by a halo of thick and long blonde lashes and his eyes are luminous, he have the Komorebi Effect (Japanese expression meaning " for the sunlight as it filters through the trees" I see you mister light-catcher).

- He have a straight nose and it's the feature that stands out the less when he's in front of you but the most when you look at his profile , he may have a slight bump on his nose and it's a little pointier on the end(European nose coming thruuu) you just want to *boop* (I also headcanon him as doing a really cute nose scrunch when he's disguted or uncomfy but it's for another day)

- Moving on to his lips, his lips are not the biggest but they're not thin either and I imagine him with his lower lip being bigger and more pigmented while his top lip is longer and thinner. Also his lips are more of a purple/dark red-ish than pink because he's cold and unalive but there is still a tint of light color on the middle of his mouth. He have a deep cupid bow and the sides of his top lip are upturned which participate in giving him this cat-like and seductive look on his face. (And the smirk omg)

- the JAWLINE, he definitely have a chiseled "S" jawline (like the rest of his brothers lol) and you just want to *nom nom* on it especially when he walks and his *bouncy* hair is slowly touching the top of his jaw

- His Adam's apple is reallyyyyy prominent, just don't stare too much when he's swallowing something or he's gonna see you and bully you for the rest of your existence

-Big ass shoulder™️, they are really wide and muscular, he can probably carry a country on those, who knows and VISIBLE collarbones !!!! AND if he played violin consistently for a long time when he was young, that could also explain his wide shoulders.

- HE HAVE BACK DIMPLES. His back and torso are also muscular as hell but the thing is that Shuu is on the skinnier side and because he wears large clothes so you don't really expect him to be ripped (he is me saw), he possess really fine muscles (but don't make him angry he can crack skulls 😟). And it's pretty canon that Shuu is muscular because his mother made him train for years so he must probably know how to handle swords, bows and a whole bunch of weapons. ( and he got pink nipples don't fight me)

- Him and Reiji have thin waistline (thanks to Beatrix) but Shuu's is smaller because I headcanons him as slightly skinnier than Reiji (he's still stronger tho), so Shuu have slights and a lil bit noticeable indent in each side of his lil waist (perfect for someone's arms)

- We ain't calling him Daddy Long Legs for nun' he's like 80% legs and they are long and skinny but not so thin that it's disproportionate to his upper body his thighs and calves are also toned (and nice to look at) and he have the hollow along the length of his calves when your tense your muscles. His buttcheeks 🤌🤌🤌, firm, soft, finger-licking good and they bounce when you slap them. (Don't slap it unless he loves you and you know him really well the last bride who tried haven't been found yet)

(Now I ain't gon' talk about the little man between his thighs because yall need to discover it I'm not "unpacking" that yet 🤣)

I am done, have a great day everyone (or a good night) wish you all the best mwah

👁👄👁💋

((SEE! SEE!!! YOU GET IT!!!!! ALSO!!!!!!!!! Your comments are also what make these 500% times BETTER. I laughed at the bride one but also felt sorry for her! IS UNFAIR THE BOY HAS SUCH A SLAPABLE ASS AND WE ARE ALLOWED TO IT! HAHAHA!))

((I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT!

[*putting red lipstick cause of my Lips color comments*]

((BAHAHA POOR SHU))

Don't "Poor Shu" me now...

[*clean the excessive color off*] [*kissu kissu to spread the color*]

... ...

[*happy*]

[sheep-and-lykos]

Kinktober Day 6 - Blindfold (Hanzo x Male!Reader)

Underneath collected discipline and ca cold exterior laid a man not only warm and gentle to you, but one kinky motherfucker too. You would not expect someone like Hanzo Shimada to have the kinks he has, but then again, it was the perfect guise. You were just so surprised how Hanzo could get away with hiding so many naughty things in his little room at the Overwatch base. Everything was either placed carefully at the back of drawers, hidden underneath the mattress, in the back of the closet he has. You would walk into his room and not find a single hair out of place, nothing suspicious that the man was probably kinkier than his younger brother who had been a big playboy back in his youth. There had even been a time where you were in the training hall wrestling with Jesse, the collar of your top had gotten pulled down revealing the trails of hickies littering your neck and chest just a bit. Despite Jesse’s hootin’ and hollerin’ and a few other agents jokingly asking, not a single soul guessed that it had been Hanzo who was the vacuum sucking on your throat.

But Hanzo would never force anything onto you. He was always slow and careful with you as if you would break if he did one thing wrong, not only in the bedroom but also just in general. You could understand why, the man was muscular to all hell, strong, a powerful man who couldn’t help but adore you.

Your shared sex life had started slow, he would never do something too harsh immediately. He was always so careful and considerate to you, even when you were being dicked down into the sheets by Hanzo’s thick cock.

Rough sex was his favorite. He loved to mark you up, not only with bitemarks but scratches and hickies and little bruises. Seeing your body in such a state riles him up more.

Hanzo loved to fuck you from behind.

But what Hanzo loved most was to blindfold you and tie your wrists above your head.

You laid there on Hanzo’s plush bed, expensive silky sheets eagerly grabbing onto your sweaty skin as he straddled your clothed waist. He had taken your shirt off just moments prior, it somewhere in the now messy bedroom as Hanzo had to dig out the handcuffs and blindfold hidden somewhere in his drawers.

You couldn’t help but drool at the sight of Hanzo’s muscular chest in your face as he fastened your wrists to the headboard, a shiver running down your spine at how cold the handcuffs were on your heated wrists. Through his pants still sadly on, you could feel his cock pressing up against you eagerly through the fabric, erect to all glory.

Hanzo looked down at you after the familiar clicks of the handcuffs locking into place died down. You gave a few tugs, confirming you were unable to go anywhere nor free yourself, earning you a satisfied grunt from Hanzo.

You looked into his dark eyes, the usual unreadable expression on his face slowly tainting with lust until he suddenly broke eye contact with you. He reached over to his end table and plush the thick blindfold, the black soft silky material shining a bit from the bedside lamp that had been set to dim. You loved how Hanzo’s skin seemed to glow deliciously at how the lamp lit up his chiseled body in all the right places, bronzed skin glowing golden and the inky blue tattoo cascading down his arm seemed to shine.

Without words, Hanzo held the blindfold by both ends before you, a sign for you to lean your head forward. He tied the blindfold, casting your vision into pure darkness.

“My love, if I-”

“You won’t Hanzo,” you cut him off, knowing what he was going to say. “You won’t hurt me.”

He hummed softly, before he slowly slid off from your waist. You heard his bare feet pad against the floor for a bit, moving to in front of the bed.

You had tried to still your breathing as you were still new with the blindfold, only using it two other times in bed, but having your vision dimmed to nothing had you gasped and flinching at every sound and touch.

You felt your stomach instantly tighten and your legs tremble just a bit when you felt Hanzo’s agile fingers crawl onto your stomach. His fingers calloused from years of working with bows and swords scratched softly at the skin of your lower stomach, nails biting into the waistband of your pants before he slid them in. Slowly, he pulled down your pants from your waist, allowing you to lift your ass off of the sheets as you pleased until he finally pulled them from your legs and off of your ankles and feet. You heard him drop them not too far away, the familiar little woosh of the pooling onto the floor.

You visibly flinched as you suddenly felt his large hands graze against the skin of your lower shins, slowly pressing his palms down onto your legs before gliding them up past your knees, past your thighs right up to your waist were your underwear laid straining, your cock cramped in the material. Hanzo hummed playfully, a short gasp left your nose as you suddenly felt him palm at your erection through your underwear. You groaned, upset at the sudden loss of his hand on your clothed erection, a soft chuckle from Hanzo rang in your ears like wedding bells.

Slowly, he carefully moved his nimble fingers up to the elastic waistband of your underwear and slowly peeled away, once again letting you lift your ass off the bed at your own pace until you felt Hanzo pull them completely off of your person, the familiar flop of them landing on the floor echoed softly in the room. You breathed a sigh of relief as you felt your cock finally from its constraints.

It wasn’t completely silent though, you could hear the commotion o the mess hall and the training room muffled from inside of his room as you could everyone else’s. You both could hear laughter and chatter amongst fellow members, guns firing and training bots breaking and reconstructing, reminding you that you actually had training to complete with a few others in about an hour or so.

Hanzo once again climbed onto the bed, you held your breath as you felt his knees sink into the mattress on either side of your own knees, slowly scooting up closer to your crotch you felt him straddle you by your lower thighs. He was still wearing his pants, something he would have to take care of when you leave for training in a bit.

Hanzo hummed, delighted at the sight of your cock.

You shivered, feeling one of Hanzo’s calloused fingertips stroke down the length of your shaft ever so lightly before he wrapped his fingers around the base of your cock right above your balls. He squeezed the base of your cock, drawing out a hiss from you as he loosened almost as immediately. Slowly, he started to reexplore the length of your cock, the sensation of his calloused hand wrapped around your cock, roughly rubbing and squeezing and stroking it had you drooling. Soft moans and small whines left your lips, a little chant of Hanzo’s name streamed from your lips.

You couldn’t be too loud, however, or else you stir Hanzo’s neighbors and then it would spread that Hanzo was fucking you into the mattress (which could also lead to people finding out about all the kinky shit Hanzo gets up to with you in the safety of his own room). Hell, there had been times Genji had nearly walked into Hanzo’s room asking if he would join himself and Zenyatta with meditation and nearly see you tied up to the bed like a juicy little Christmas present. There had also been one time where you had been too loud, Hanzo had gagged you with your own blindfold to keep you quiet, another time the gag was replaced with his own dick. To say your jaw ached the next day was an understatement.

Your back arched into his touch, a slight whine leaving your sealed lips. You tugged at the handcuffs, only to get nowhere. Your fingers flexed, toes curled, chest seized with labored breaths. You struggled under his grasp on your cock, shivering when the pad of his thumb pressed against the head of your cock, spreading a bead of precum that had pearled out. He toyed with the head of your dick, squeezing just a bit here and there, drawing out the small noises from you despite your struggles to stay as quiet as you could lest you let out a loud moan or something and get busted.

Of course, it wasn’t illegal or against Overwatch’s rules of conduct to fuck other members or date other members, but Hanzo was a very secretive person. For others to know about what he does with you behind closed doors is your shared businesses only. Not to mention, if Genji were to find out, playful pestering would surely ensue until either one dies, most likely Genji if Hanzo would put him through a wall.

You loved how you would just come apart in his large hands. A perfect way to relieve stress on both ends, yes, but fuck was it more satisfying when he drew you out for long periods of time, denying you of your climax, fuck you until you were about to cum and then toy with you like he was some innocent angel. He was a devilish motherfucker, and you couldn’t help but love him for that.

You also knew that it wouldn’t take long for Hanzo to unravel. The multiple layers of calm discipline would shatter, and he would suddenly perform a 180 and become an impatient man, crooning and keen on fucking you into the mattress, milking you of every climax, of every little moan and cry, every drop of semen until you both knew you wouldn’t be able to walk at all the next day lest you draw suspicious people. You loved how powerful Hanzo could be in bed, how he can absolutely wreck you in whatever way and you would allow it with open arms.

You had arched your head back as a wave of pleasure rolled over you, the blindfold coming apart just a bit to grant you some sight. You glanced down, managing to spy Hanzo still straddled over you.

He was a sight himself, cheeks flushed a bit, the dusty pink on his bronzed face was a look you rarely saw. Sweat had beaded on his brow, his hair had been messed up a bit, a little fluffier than usual. He was breathing rather hard too, seeing as how hard he was between your legs.

You winced, feeling your core cramp and your dick twitch in Hanzo’s grip. Hanzo cooed playfully, toying with the head of your dick some more, still smearing around the few drops of precum around the head until you winced, panting as the feeling inside of you tightened. Like cogs in a clocktower becoming jammed, they kept turning and turning until it was too hard, unable to handle the pressure building up anymore until you came with a startled shout, only for it to be muffled as Hanzo clapped his unoccupied hand to your mouth.

Your cum splattered onto his delicious chest, some had even gotten onto his chin and jaw while the rest stayed splattered on his hand. Your cum slowly dribbled down his chest to his rock-hard abs that were flexing with every breath he took.

As you laid there panting like a wild animal, you couldn’t help the little smirk that rose on your lips. Hanzo glared up at you dangerously, his pupils were blown wide.

“You are not going anywhere,” he growled.

[ravenempress101]

~Revolution Of Maddness~ Dionysus Greek Imagine Chapter 1

Authors note: finally made a Greek imagine. the legends of tomorrow did that on the episode. they picked my favorite love child to be Dionysus and had to write about it so here it is a new update and it will be a series cause it deserves one so enjoy my sweethearts! With everything going on have to spread happiness and love all of you my followers people who come across my story and heart i love you and truly be safe and love you! <3

Warnings: mind control, pure temptation, no smut, alcoholism, parties,swords

Words: 4.2k

"en grade newbie" "i am gonna kick your ass' Sara began to toss her frame in air cartwheeling her legs. her formation was about to take a final destination, she pulls her sword and swings upon y/n's side. y/n retracts her back inches toward the ground from the blow. as y/n stands up at Sara, the sword swings toward Sara's right side. the blow broke her defenses. twirling in the admits, her body collides with the floor. clenching her soft jaw at a winner of the sword fight. nick appeared from the door cups in his hand emblem with a mermaid locos monster on them.

"ooooo Starbucks thanks Nate"

Nate nodded at both of them while preparing the projector for the seminar. y/n paced over toward the cups capturing one in her hand, and niche her metal blade down onto the coffee table. Sara stood up and capturing one of the coffee. as she sat sat down sipping the espresso. Nate began to say 'your welcome i got you guys, double shot of espresso over ice, an american with a dash of mint, and a green tea with a hint of spearmint cause i was feeling freaky fresh today'

a mild chuckle escaped from y/n's lip at Nate. Sara slapped your arm to hide the laugh as she raised her cup in toast formation a smirk plastered on her lips commending Nate for the peace offering.“okay Nate no more reading joke books for a while”

as she takes another gulp of the raven liquid,he threw his hand up in embarrassment everyone making there way in the assignment lab. a meeting for a new mission were under there belt. as Nate said his hello to everyone for showing up to the meeting. capturing the red folders in his hand he gave a folder to all the members. y/n reaching for a red one Nate having one more folder with black and gold symbols on it. he placed it in your hand. y/n captured the folder in her hand wearing a puzzled expression.

"i think you gave me the wro...'

"alright case no.177 Dion's returned to his father Zeus by Dion or to be known as Dionysus" Nate flicked the screen. the screen appear to have a royal cup from the era of 950 BC. y/n blinked her eyes, refocuses to her folder opening it. there was a photograph of a young man with raven loose curls, deep dimples that covered his cheeks on his caramel cast a minority of freckles. "wait the god of winery is at a university, interesting" y/n scanning at a picture with the boy Dionysus with a basketball jersey of no. 52 in black bold on the front. Hes smiling but somethings off about how he poses for the picture.y/n was astound by the Greek god of winery. Zeus's son behaving like a animal. it was impossible for Dion to have any manners.

"sure is very" "that is an awesome cover up" Sara booming scribbling characters on her paper. Nate change the slide, the university and the sigma fraternity of the college that Dion was ruling over appeared. Dionysus was a regular kid on the outside but on the inside a bloodline of 1,456  years of pure immortality youth. 

"not so awesome, y/n you would have to get Dionysus in your corner, his father Zeus needs him for his kingdom' y/n stalking off in a pointless huff. her anger burning at the words from Nate. "really me" "Oh no" "why me?' it's my first day"

Nate claps his hand together as rambling stopped. strutting over toward yourself placing your hand on your shoulder "you'll do great if i didn't know i would have never recruited you, this will prove to us and you that you can handle anything" a slight grin creep on her face at his encouragements. y/n knew she had a flame in her to fight but the god of madness was unknown to her. y/n praying that her charisma must prosper on him.

therefore, they appear a few days later at the university of the sigmas. college kids sprinting through campus. the teachers pulling out pink slips and the teachers sprinting after the kids, the smell of rose perfume in the air of the sorority woman dressed up in dresses of coordinating pink.y/n rolled her eyes of the desperate childishness memories  that back when she was a 23 year old. The tables of the fraternities, sororities, and forities. mission was calling her name to sign up for one of the Greek organizations. Dionysus has to be in one of the big Greek leads.

"where is the god of destruction' a pink set of shirts wore by girls past her. y/n scanned her surroundings for the mysterious boy Nate set for her. the smell of dark chocolate feeling the air as Nate and her distracted by the rumbles of there stomachs. "dang can't believe it's been so long, they used to call me shot gun Nate'  Nate walked over to one of the fraternity beer coolers and captured a beer. poking a hole in the side of the can and then cracked the seal at the top . downing the beer in seconds, y/n heart stopped at Nate her words held captive at what he did. the empty can collided with the floor and a 'woo" erupted from him as the students clapped an cheered "shotgun Nate" at his reenactment of his college days.

"shot gun Nate really" y/n giggled at the praised man. leaving the college students with amazement. "yes could drink a whole keg in three minutes or less, that was the big bang and then Dion.." college men with bullhorns started chanting"delta sigma phi" from across the sanctuary . men dressed in college t-shirts in formation convey a perfect angel from above.

"there he is"

y/n pointed at the tint shades being his hidden drunken state. His tan chubby frame leap off the throne.strutting over toward Nate and you at the sorority table you signed up for "where here, i love this day where i can meet all the fraternities and sororities with sweet alluring angels, hello angel whats your name' his orbs dance on your masterpiece. y/n nausea creep up at her throat. she took a big gulp forcing the food back down in her. y/n knew she was sick from his cockiness of attitude.y/n whispered to herself while Nate overheard her. "I'll break your bon...

"wow wow aye now" 

Nate raising his index finger and gave her a death glare.y/n smiled innocently at her mentor transforming her attitude to positive. returning back to Dion’s gaze at her chubby frame while capturing his bottom lip in between his teeth. curves carved by Aphrodite herself set Dionysus in a vibe. "i mean hello and what is your name sir" "well its Dion and i see your participating in the zeta omega the charlie's angels of the sorority' Dion purring at her.the god of ecstasy pools of chocolate appear slight soberness toward y/n as she side eyed Nate. Nate couldn't get her out this one. it was time to prove her worth. "yes i am and what fraternity yourself apart of" y/n placed her free hand underneath her chin. soaking up Dion's beauteous features he portrayed "the sigmas also known as the forbidden fruit of the campus but Hun i'll make arrangements for you" Dion stepping closer toward y/n. his slender rough finger guided along your arm. y/n's body quaked from the touch of Dion. y/n stepped back from the gorgeous man.

"ugh i’m good Nate, i am done with this mission' a fire-seed rose up in y/n, as she began gritted her teeth. silence fell upon her as she stormed off. her footsteps were acid like movements burning the ground she walked on. the sparks in her brain at Dion's actions where uncalled for. Nate chased right after yourself. furrowing his eyebrows your way.being selfish was the only option y/n had made this whole mission.it was time for y/n to be selfless this one time for the legends. "then your kicked off the legends, y/n hes not that bad' Nate placing a burden upon y/n. Dion as went through nails and dirt and y/n couldn't even pushed down her ego.his attitude toward girls can change for the better. a journey for the both of them was underway.

"yes he is, a childish boy that thinks hes so awesome but really not look at him" both of you glanced at the Greek god as he downed his golden cup of wine that he created from his vineyard. the 5 gentlemen that followed him waved there hands in front of his chiseled face. a smirk came your way as he waited for your presence to disrupt his atmosphere.Dion wanted yourself so bad and he would do anything to get you sprung over him.time and patience is all he needs. "just try the best you can do with him we need him for Zeus and he needs care' as Nate scanned a cocky Dion placed his finger pointing at y/n wiggling it for a gesture of "come my why" y/n clenched her jaw as she saw red giving him the death glare on the naive men. Nate jumped right in front of her for a distraction. he soothed her anger.

"ugh fine' y/n through her ego away and walked back over to her project. "alright Dion i'm y/n do you wanna help me pick out a sorority crown i have to wear' capturing the catalog in her hand. scanning at all the majority diamond crowns and looking back up at Dion with a shy smile. side eyed the followers of men for agreement.they all nodded Dion captures his arm in yours. 'oooo first day and you wanna hang with me leggo' y/n and Dion walked out into the building and on the sorority neighborhood he owned.

"great!' victory was at hand for y/n and she couldn't be more happy next, Dion sitting in the kitchen chair. a laptop placed on his lap as he organized a guest list for his ultimate party of the century. the god of ecstasy made euphoria a place for all his parties. "so y/n coming to my party tonight since i helped you pick out the tiara for your sorority" "mhmmm i don't know i have to get stuff together for this sorority' Dion and you were in his house. a silent whisper fell upon both you.y/n thought Dion had classes but he skipped and bride somebody to go to his classes for him. 

"it will be fun if your there, sound like the party type and it will get me a better chance of having fun if your there with me' 'mhmm i don't know i have to get stuff together for this sorority" pointer finger captured in between her teeth as she bite tiny marks on her fingernails. Dion plastering a smile convincing you to his rage. y/n didn't sign up for a drunken teenager as the mission went on. staying on her feet and having her senses high alert was her main priority. "okay okay stop your begging Dion i'll go" "that’s what i do best and great i'll save you a spot" while Dion winked your way. his head found his way onto your shoulder. once came in contact with yourself y/n's organs shivered. her soul glowing from the Greek god that touched her. as Dion was scanning his computer screen. y/n forehead flared up with sweat droplets. puzzled on how her body react with his touch was amazed. 

Stumbling over her "great" the words stayed in her throat. Dion retracts his touch from her and y/n inhales deeply as her insides stood at a still. everything going back to normal, and the sweat disappear. Dion getting up from his seat and walking into the kitchen. y/n looks over her shoulder while capturing her iPhone from her pocket. as she unlocked her phone. started typing a message to Nate, "omg Nate i have to go to the party Dionysus is planning really???" the iPhone buzzed and y/n scanned at the text  that he left on her phone "yes you do! the mission must be going really well, don't drink to much" cursing under her breathe. as she typed away the next text and pressed send. "omg fine you owe me one"

Dion made his way back into the room. a plate of rice in his hand and chop sticks in the other he sat down and took a bite and held the plate to your face. as y/n shook for a refusal he went back to planning. the darkness filled the air as the stars decorated the sky. y/n walked toward Dion's fraternity house. two boys Turing up beers and smashing the cans on there heads while shouting violently. wandering eyes landed to the lawn of all the toilet paper from the trees and the signs the sigmas created for there fraternity. y/n turned on her heels and walked back over toward her sorority house. y/n was in defeat at the accomplishment "look who made it, know you show up' Dion wrapping his words around your body. pulling yourself back towards the fraternity house. Dion ran down the steps capturing your hand  guiding yourself into the sweaty body's grinding on each other. "hey Dion yes i'm here' "good i'm very glad you are,we have a long night ahead of us, lets get a drink shall we?"

"its a very special drink i want you to try' Dion forcing your body to his wine table. the table was covered with Hennessy and vodka. the bottles labeled with his name on them and sliver ribbon were around the alcohol bottle. "you have a lot of wine' guiding your free hand over the wine. y/n capturing one in hand and about to slip it in her pocket. Dion captures both of your hands in his some grapes from the table and starts smashing it between his rough palms with your soft ones. a fine liquid filled the glass of the self made wine that he mastered. "yea i make it here try a sip' the navy blue liquid filled to the rim. y/n captured the glass from his hand and placed her nose above the special drink. the contents were sweet but a bitterness tickled her nose. "cool so how long have you been part of the fraternity?" y/n scanning down her glass while mixing the drink. the drink was filled with darkness. a raven liquid filled with night. "a few years, i really find myself humble while ruling over the campus, drink up sweetheart"

placing the wine glass toward her heartshappes and tossed back the glass. the bitterness wine gliding down her throat. a Delicious taste invade it her taste buds. as sweat flared up on her forehead. her body temperature rising. "i feel hot Dion' Dion took a sip.the alcohol entering both of your bodies.y/n body felt hot to the touch. she felt like she wanted to strip all her clothes and jump in the pool just to release the steam she was feeling inside. "oh you'll cool down, how’d that taste?" Dion's cup colliding with the floor and he took your cup and the cup following behind. y/n's mouth erupted with coughs. pupils dilated and a source of enlightenment to her frame. her body floated from the high that his drink possessed. 

"well tastes... awesomely delicious and i feel..' y/n's word started to muffle out her mouth. placing a foot in front of the other sounds of the crowd becoming a blur. her foot steps boomed in her ears. her heart at a slow steady speed. a clogging feeling to her ears. Dion's smiled turned dark staring at your frame. "Free almost right?, i'm going to ask yourself some questions" y/n felt like her body gave up on her conscious and were following her new leader. Dion, his voiced boomed in your soul. her orbs made its way toward Dion's chocolate ones. swimming the the looseness he conjured upon yourself. "are you really here for a sorority?' y/n blinking her eyes, refocusing on coming back to her body. the siren he position was a strength like no other. y/n mentally fighting but physically giving into the temptation. fading out of conscious.

"y-y-e... no' Dion strutted over towards yourself. Dion found pleasure in what he was doing. "tha’ts it baby girl cmon' "really why are you hear of all places?" his concerning question filled with care.y/n was becoming in denial and trusting of him in all one sitting. y/n chasing her thoughts back and slowly backing up from Dion for ehat he was did. stuttering forcing on her lips. the cover couldn't be blown. 

"Hun don't struggle, you'll  tire yourself out, just let go" senses shifted from his words as y/n's legs gave out. her frame collided with the floor. trembling filled her body as Dion crouched down to her level. her eyes started to loose her natural color and form into Dion's his rough fingers landed underneath your soft chin. y/n relaxed under his touch as Dion scanned for any control your body, soul, and mind for him to rule over. her blinking ceased and tears welled up in her eyes. one tear escape from her orb and found its way down its cheek. "i'm not here for this sorority, please see your dad he needs you" the moment Dion realized what had came from your mouth is heart broke. his feeling like he was drowning underwater. as Dion paused in front of yourself at the information he gathered. his rough palms trailing up and down your arms. warmth fell upon yourself. 

"now isn't that better, the truth is better and look princess your reward is being here with me don't need you running off now your special just as your mind is" Dion's eyes filled with a soft venom of anger and a clenched jaw. a daze came over y/n as she nodded at the command. "yes i will be he-rr-e for you and only you Dion" shoulders relaxed. as a questionable peace came over her. as y/n began to embrace Dion she felled straight to the floor in front of him. her body knew his commands right away. a bow she took. Dion thoughts in his brain of your schedule he place you on.

"that’s so very tight to hear, can' wait to hear the little cries as you worship me' Dion taking your chin forcing yourself to look up at his gaze. Dion summoned one of his followers to him and Dion whispered in his ear "get the legends of tomorrow on the phone, they will be proud of me and her for what i done" Dion evilly grinned at yourself. all the thoughts of you and him were causing excitement for him.y/n trapped with the caramel man side. the euphoria crashing through  her body and Dion was the supplier toward that feeling. Dion shouted and men appeared from the shadows toward his command "men, help her change into something sexy, i found what i need and shes the kindest goddess ever. the men nodded there way toward him and captured your arms in there hands leading yourself in a room as yourself left. Dion waved his free hand at yourself of a gesture of welcoming to a new home.  

[sandpumpkin]

Meeting a Legend

Whats that?! 2 Sandpumpkin things in one week?! 

Pumpkin meets The Red Hair Pirates?!

Crocodile frowned as the harbour came into view. A flag with a skull and crossbones with three scars over one eye and adorned with swords waved jubilantly in the early morning sky. He wasn’t some greenhorn asking for a deathwish. He had learnt from his mistakes. Picking fights without motive was meaningless.

“Boss perhaps we shouldn’t dock here?” Bentham suggested nervously. Crocodile shot Bentham a cold stare,

“We dock.” He ordered. He wasn’t going to turn tail just  because a Yonko was docked at the same harbour. 

“Oh! Is that the Red Hair ship?” he heard Hana ask excitedly. “It looks so cool.” she clambered onto the railing of the ship and hung onto the rigging, leaning to get a better look at the dragon fronted ship in the harbour “Do you think we’ll bump into them?” she questioned to noone in particular.

“Preferably not,” Crocodile replied, she turned to face him and jumped from the railing, knowing he would catch her which he did with one arm. Though the first time she had done that, his natural instinct took over and shifted to sand, Hana had hit the deck face first with a thud. It took him some time to get used to that. Nuzzling his chest affectionately “I would prefer a meaningless fight.” Crocodile added, setting her down on the deck “Do not leave my side.” he ordered, his eyes meeting her sea green ones. She nodded in response. 

“Of course, I’ll go get my bag.”

Crocodile looked down at the bananawani who nudged at his leg “you stay here,” Chomp replied with a small growl and proceeded to follow Crocodile around the deck. It wasn’t long until they were moored and ready to disembark. Hana appeared in a flurry, clutching her hat as she jumped down a set of stairs. A smile tugged at his lips when he took notice of her outfit had been picked to match his own. A royal blue blouse with frills about the chest, a blue and black striped skirt and a black cropped jacket. 

“Be good Captain Chomp,” she said, kneeling to tickle the bananawani’s snout “guard the ship whilst we’re gone.” she smiled, rising to her feet and following the group off the ship. 

The harbour town was certainly used to pirate visitors and treat them as regular customers. Hana stopped to look in a shop window full of sweets, her eyes wide in excitement. She was easily distracted where sweets were concerned. “I’ll just be a few moments.” she added, “I can catch up..”

“Don’t be long.” Crocodile warned, carrying on his way. The town seemed quiet enough and so far the Red hairs hadn’t been spotted so he could allow her a few moments. How much trouble could she get in a sweet shop.

Though it didn’t take long for this quietness to end. 

“Well well, I wasn’t expecting to see a warlord..sorry ex-warlord.” a voice teased, Crocodile cast his gaze to his side, a group of pirates occupying several outdoor tables of a bar. That familiar red hair, those scars. 

“Looking for a fight, Red hair?” Crocodile replied with his own question, tensions were flying between the two captains. So much for avoiding a fight.

“Miss! Princess? My angel?! Please-” 

“Croco-chan!” a panicked voice cried, shattering the stiff atmosphere. A flurry of blue and orange bolted behind him. A tall man with spiky red hair and a long purple coat came into view shortly after. “He won’t leave me alone-” she whispered.

“Rockstar there you are!” Yasopp called, “you chasing skirts again?” he added spurring on the other members to laugh loudly. Crocodile felt Hana grip the sleeve of his coat.

“I couldn’t help it! She’s so cute.” Rockstar grinned, he looked around quickly “where did she go?” Crocodile shot him with a cold glare, which did naught to distract Rockstar who peered around Crocodile when he caught sight of his target. “There you are-” A swift kick to the head finally sent Rockstar a most painful message.

“Leave our pumpkin alone.” Bentham snapped, not shifting from his stance ready to deliver another kick if required. Shanks watched curiously with a smirk at his lips. 

“That’s an interesting crew member you have there.” he mused, his eyes fell on the orange haired woman peering out from behind Crocodile, surveying the crew before her “didn’t think you’d-” he was cut off by an excited gasp. Shanks blinked and looked smug when he saw her eyes light up in his direction. 

“Sorry Croco-chan.” she hurried from her safe spot and headed towards the Red Hair pirates whilst rummaging around the large grimoire shaped bag. Shanks grinned brightly as she approached, 

“Well-” Shanks blinked confused and turned his head as she walked past and stood in front of Benn, clutching some pieces of paper. 

Bowing suddenly and holding up the papers and a pen “E-excuse me Mr Beckman sir please....c-can you sign these wanted posters for me please!” she half shouted.

“What about me?” Shanks asked, with a slight whine. Benn laughed loudly, his shoulders shuddering along with it. 

“Sure thing.” he took the papers from her inspecting them curiously “hmm. These are old..” he scratched his jaw thoughtly “Don’t look that now.” he hummed. 

Hana was in awe. Taking in the real life Benn Beckman. His chiseled jaw, he was shorter than Crocodile but just as broad, his silver hair didn’t take away from his looks only heightening them and with the large scars over one side of his face adding that aura of danger and mystery. 

“You’re still very handsome sir.” she replied softly, shuffling nervously on the spot. Her words made Shanks almost choke on his beer.

“Heeey. What about me?” Shanks whined nearing to lean in front of Benn. Hana took a step back away from Shanks, who was quickly spun around and a poster slammed against his back. “Hey! Ow!” Benn used Shanks’ back as a desk as he signed both posters. 

“How’s that?” Benn offered a charming grin, as he handed the posters back which made Hana blush and hide behind them,

“-Thank you very much.” she bowed again “Sorry to bother you.” and with that she hurried back to Crocodile’s side who looked very unimpressed. 

“Benn...she ignored me..” Shanks’ whined further. 

Crocodile watched Hana carefully place the posters into a folder that contained lots of other pieces of paper, most of them collaged together..and of him.. Crocodile cracked a smile and rested a hand on her hand knocking her hat over her eyes. “Don’t be fraternising with the enemy in future,” he warned. 

“Sorry. I was excited! I got to meet a legend!” 

“What about me?!” Shanks’ complained loudly “I’m the captain!”  Hana stared at him, tilting her head in confusion 

“But Benn is cooler.” she replied simply which made Shanks’ sulk even further, sinking to his knees and drawing little circles on the floor. “Besides, the best Captain is Croco-chan.” She added with a bright grin. 

“Do you enjoy picking fights with everyone?” Crocodile asked with amusement, first the celestial dragons and now a Yonko. He did find it endearing that she thought so highly of him and he was going to question the content of the mysterious book later but for now it was time for the two crews to part before any pointless fighting started. Crocodile lifted his hook and Hana instinctively shuffled to that side standing close to him with a content smile. “Come on before you start more fights.” he teased, setting his arm over her shoulder with his hook dangling protectly next to her. She had already slid her fingers over his hook, like they were holding hands. He shook his head. This woman. He could still hear Red Hair whining in the distance. Seemed she had a knack for diffusing fights. 

[azulaphales]

Us Against the World

Chapter 1: All the Days Had Been Nice (Read on AO3 here!)

In the beginning, in the Garden of Eden, there was a demon in the form of a serpent who hadn't made enough trouble for one day, and there was an angel standing atop the gate, fretting and wringing his hands.

A different angel and demon pair stood on top of the storm clouds above Eden, watching them. The demon adjusted the red sash over their black robe. As the leaders of their respective sides, Lord Beelzebub and Archangel Gabriel had decided that it was in both of their best interests to check in on Earth and make sure that everything was going according to plan.

The serpent, having just finished the first temptation of humanity, slithered up the wall towards the unsuspecting angel. His ankle was exposed by his robes, and the serpent bared his fangs, poised to strike.

“It looks like your poor angel is about to meet a grim end,” said Beelzebub.

“Mhm,” said Gabriel, giving a curt nod.

“You aren’t going to do anything about it? Try to save one of your own?” Beelzebub prompted him.

“I must not interfere with the Great Plan,” Gabriel said.

“Doesn’t seem very angelic, to let someone die, does it?” Beelzebub commented. They watched his face for a reaction, but his frown was set as if carved in stone. His jaw was so chiseled that it might as well be, they noticed despite themselves. Shaking their head to snap themselves out of it, they returned their attention to the wall below.

Beelzebub soon realized that the serpent’s intentions were not what they thought. He didn’t lash out at the angel’s ankle, but coiled up beside him. He wasn’t opening his mouth to bite, but to speak.

“It’s even worse than we thought,” said Beelzebub. “He’s not trying to kill him. He’s trying to strike up a conversation with him.”

“What?! That’s unthinkable,” Gabriel sputtered. “Angels and demons are not supposed to fraternize with each other.”

Beelzebub raised their eyebrow and shot him a pointed glance.

“This is strictly for business purposes. It’s not fraternizing,” Gabriel insisted.

“Sure,” said Beelzebub, unconvinced.

“We have to stop them. Call them back to head office,” Gabriel urged.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to interfere with the Great Plan,” Beelzebub said mockingly.

“This isn’t interfering with it. This is preserving it,” said Gabriel, pressing on in obvious ignorance of Beelzebub's sarcasm. “If those two interact, it could throw a wrench into the whole thing.”

“Whatever you say, Archangel,” Beelzebub sighed wearily, not bothering to ask what a wrench was. Then, their voice took on a commanding tone, projecting down to the demon on Earth. “Demon Crawly, report back to Hell immediately.” The serpent slunk down from the wall, and the ground swallowed him up in a burst of embers.

“And you, Aziraphale,” Gabriel ordered, making the nervous principality look up with a start. “Meet me back at head office. We need to talk about your flaming sword.”

While they were conducting the meetings with the angel and demon who had almost met in Eden, Beelzebub and Gabriel independently came to the same conclusion: If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. That was how they ended up taking the Serpent of Eden and the Guardian of the Eastern Gate off the Earth assignment, and stationing themselves on Earth in their place. Even if that meant promoting their wayward operatives to a higher, or in Hell’s case, lower office than they deserved, it was a small price to pay in order to put someone competent in charge of keeping the Earth project on its course.

If only the forces of Heaven and Hell had someone competent at their disposal.

[littlejeanniebean]

Ep. 3 | The Marauders: Riddle Records

A/N: “Come to the dark side. We have a solo career.” - Tom Riddle Jr., probably. On a lighter note, I can just see them backstage like this by the lovely artist @theimpossiblefifth​. Read on AO3 :) Enjoy! - J xx

One look in your eyes

I can read your mind

 You're naughty, my type

Care for a good time?

You could be just like all your high society friends at high tea

You could get with a football player

But there’s nothing like a shot of adrenaline in the morning

You know you want a dragon slayer

“Like me,” James mouthed seductively to the camera and winked.

“I’m Alice Fortescue, these wonderful lads are The Marauders, thank you for joining us this Saturday Night Live!” the actress grinned widely as the camera backed away.

The boys all gathered around her in a group hug.

“Holy shit! That was incredible!” Obviously, this was Sirius speaking.

“You were wonderful, honey,” a low voice whispered.

A smiling man with sweet eyes and a mop of dark hair put his arms around Alice.

“Oh, everyone, this is my boyfriend, Frank!” the bubbly actress grinned widely, “He’s a photographer for GQ.”

“Sick!” James shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Frank; lovely working with you, Alice; hope you’ll both come to one of our shows sometime, ta-ta!” Sirius practically dragged the band away before anyone could say anything more.

“What was that?” Remus tutted at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, ta-ta?” the bespectacled boy wiggled his nose to adjust his glasses that had gone askew, “Who says that?”

“Not what I meant,” the pale, mousy-haired boy shrugged off his suit jacket in their shared dressing room.

“Look, I’ll explain later!” Sirius pleaded, “Just hurry up and let’s get the hell -”

“Yoo-hoo! Siri!” a warbling, high-pitched voice giggled on the other side of the door, “This is their room here, Tommy...”

“Christ,” the dark-haired boy covered his face with his hands. 

“We’ll deal with Bella,” James set his jaw and turned to the other two, “Ready?”

Remus and Peter rolled up their dress shirt sleeves and nodded.

The trio filed out of the dressing room, forcing Bella Black and her friend backward, and immediately shut the door behind them.

“He doesn’t want to see you or any of your family again, Bella,” said James sternly, giving the show's new cameraman the stink-eye for good measure. 

Bella stuck her tongue out childishly. 

Her guest grimaced and offered his hand to the boys, “I’m sorry about her. She overheard I was interested in speaking with you young talents and… well, it got a bit out of hand. I’m Tom Riddle, of Riddle Records.” 

Really, the man with chiseled features and dark slicked back hair wasn’t much older than they were. But he was dressed more expensively than they could ever be comfortable with, even with the fresh success of their debut album.

“You’re Senior’s kid,” James nodded, his mother being an agent in the industry. He noted just the smallest flinch at the mention of the man's father. “With all due respect, we already have a label.”

“A label that has you locked into a contract as a group,” Tom gave them each his card and presented James with another one for Sirius, “We would pay any fees associated with breaking your current contract, then we would launch your solo careers - James as the pop prince, Sirius as the rock and roll bad boy, Remus as the R&B god, and Peter as the jazz legend!”

“We’re better musicians together,” said Remus.

Tom leaned in, “Your success now, quadrupled. Plus the potential for high-engagement collaborations among you. The freedom to create in your own style on top of that. Imagine it. And give me a call.”

"Ta-ta," Bella blew them each a kiss in a way that could only be described as menacing. When they were out of the boys' earshot she simpered, "You're such a clever businessman, Tommy."

"Don't call me that," he yanked his arm away and pressed his phone to his ear irritably, "I found us some new business and laid the groundwork. Can I have my allowance now?" 

The Marauders flew back to Scotland that night and rehearsed for months until they were ready to drop before flying back to LA for Night One. 

“Nervous?” Sirius whispered while they waited for their opening act, DJ Dedalus Diggle, to finish his set.

“Why would you ask me that?” James huffed, adjusting his bright red tie for the umpteenth time. 

“You need more glitter,” Molly patted his cheekbones lightly with her pointer finger, which was covered in the golden stuff.

“Five minutes, boys!”

“Thanks, Arthur!” Remus spoke for them all.

“We’ve got this, Jimbo!” Peter bounced excitedly on his heels.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve been performing at recitals since you were big enough to reach the keys from the bench.”

“The jitters never get old,” his baby-faced friend told him, “but we’re all going out there. And with everything we do together, we always have fun.”

James nodded to himself and made sure to check on their drummer for the tour, “You good, Kingsley?”

The man in a rose-red disco suit twirled the sticks deftly in his hands, “Let’s do this.”

“... and now, Los Angeles,” Diggle hyped the crowd, “give it up… for The Marauders!”

The lights went up and the boys looked out at the incredibly emotional fans who’d come to see them.

“Right,” James whispered, reaching for the microphone with shaking hands, “A-one, two, three.”

I don’t have a lot of time

I’m running for my dear life

Can’t breathe without you by

Aye aye aye

It’s a full house

But I’ll seek you out

It’s a wild crowd

But I’ll seek you out

I don’t know how

But I’ll seek you out

James couldn’t help grinning ear to ear as Sirius broke out into his guitar solo.

Remus pointed out a sign that said, “Marry me, James Potter!”

The lead singer laughed and spoke into his mic, “Well, will you buy me dinner first, at least?” 

The girl promptly fainted.

Arthur was by her side immediately to make sure she was alright.

“Oh, dear, you’ve hit your head,” Molly crouched down beside him and handed the young girl an ice pack.

The red-headed manager got his first good look at the videographer and her multi-pocketed fishing vest and cargo pants.

She noticed him staring, “I’ve known these boys a long time. You never know what you’re going to need.”

“Good advice,” he helped her and the fan back up in one go, “I’m Arthur.”

“Molly,” she grinned, hoisting her camera back onto her capable shoulders and focused back in on James.

Under your spell, I like how you play it

Keeping it cool is so overrated

Waiting on you, every breath bated

Hey hey hey

They played LA two more nights before moving on to San Francisco. Then Vegas, then Seattle, and across the rest of the continent, all the way to New York.

“Madison Square Garden,” James swallowed, taking in the iconic jumbotron above their heads and the entire stadium, really.

Just three hours later, he was up on that very stage, sweat trickling down his back and the bridge of his nose as he sang his heart out about a funny story the designer, Lily Evans once related about her sister via Instagram post.

There’s a little house on Privet Drive

Where nothing ever happens

Little curtain twitcher of a wife

And a little boy and husband

But when they leave for their nine to five

And the little boy goes to school

The little old lady with cats ninety-nine

Does what she wills to do

Living next to ordinary no. 4

So much to do, so much to explore

The grocer down the street from me

His daughter left for university

And he needs the comfort of my tabbies

Yessiree, that’s what I’m here for

Your neighbour next to ordinary no. 4

After that, they went all over South America. The streets were typically too narrow to drive a tour bus around, so they often jetted from one country to another and rented a little convoy of minivans to take them to the arenas from their hotels and back.

“Shit, Petey’s got food poisoning!” Remus fussed over the poor boy.

“I’m fine! Really!” the blond insisted before doubling over and retching once more.

“I can fill in,” DJ Diggle adjusted his signature flat cap, “I have all your songs pre-recorded -”

“We have half an hour to get it out of his system!” Sirius declared determinedly, “We’re not going on without you, Pete!”

“I’ve got the doctor!” Arthur came in, followed closely by a middle-aged woman with apple cheeks and curly hair.

“You need to replace your fluids,” Molly handed Peter a bottle of electrolytes.

“Yeah, it’s a common bacterial infection going around among tourists,” said the doctor, giving him a dose of antibiotics, “He’s not in any shape to perform, you lot, so you might as well let him rest.”

“I can - oh,” Peter ran to the bathroom.

“How soon can you give him another dose of that?” Sirius asked anxiously.

“Not any time in the next half hour,” she narrowed her eyes at him, apparently having overheard his earlier proclamation.

“Poppy’s right,” said Arthur, “Peter’s health comes first. Dedalus, isolate the keyboards in every track and queue the set list.”

“Try to keep in time,” Sirius added.

“No improvising for tonight, lads,” Arthur warned the regular band members.

“But -” 

“I’m serious.”

“And so am I!” he could only maintain a straight face for two and a half seconds after he said this.

James sighed as they waited for the DJ to introduce them half an hour later, “It’s not going to be the same without Peter.”

“We’ll make the best of it, Jimbo,” Remus assured him, “and he’ll be back with us for the next one.”

The frontman set his jaw, pushed his glasses up his face and pulled the microphone to his lips.

Do you remember

The games we used to play

Mermaids underwater

Aliens in outer space

Do you remember

The sticks we’d raise aloft

We called them swords and never

Lost the battles that we fought

Peter was back on stage the next night, to much celebration and all too soon, they flew back across the pond for their European leg. Of course, their first stop was Scotland.

“It’s so good to be home,” James sighed happily, pausing to wipe his glasses on the hem of his shirt and winking at a girl who lost it at the sight of his abdomen, “This is our last song. Please join in if you know the words. Or make them up. Just have a good time. Be as loud as you want to. We love you all, thank you for everything you’ve done for us. We’re the luckiest boys in the world.”

Is there a risk to it?

Is it a challenge?

If there isn’t, if it isn’t, I don’t want it

Yeah, I wanna do some damage

I feel lucky tonight

I got you by my side

Seven days in a week

And you spend them with me

So hell yeah, I feel lucky

"That sounds really good, Pete," said James from where he lay on the floor of their stage after the arena emptied, "We could use that."

Peter chuckled, "It's Chopin. A waltz."

James ambles over and his friend makes room for him on the bench.

"It's a split C chord, then F, A flat..." he guides him through the song. It's out of time and messy, but they're having fun. "James…"

"Yeah, Pete?"

"What are we going to do about Tom Riddle's offer? I mean, his dad’s label practically owns half the music industry. And Castle is just this little independent… He could make our lives more difficult than he already has." 

"Unless we join him, you're thinking?" 

"We could ask Arthur to negotiate a group contract just the same. I doubt they'll dislike the idea of paying less upfront."

"But what about loyalty to everyone at Castle? McGonagall? Urquart?" James shook his head, "We're having a successful tour in spite of the ticket bots Riddle set on us. We're looking out into seas of fans all wearing our merch in spite of his shipment hijacking. And we're having bloody good time because we're not letting any of the homophobic slander he's fueled the press with get to us."

"Here, here!" cheered Sirius, clinking his beer bottle with his boyfriend's.

"Right, rest up, lads! You deserve it with all the work you put into this show," James stood and ambled back to the tour bus, where Shacklebolt was already sleeping soundly, being the earliest riser of them all.

“Goodnight, all!” Peter loved his friends, truly. But he was convinced their stubborn sense of the meaning of courage would do them a great disservice.

As always when confronted with a decision to make, he visited the only jazz bar in Scotland, the Leaky Kettle. Immediately upon stepping inside, he let the smooth piano carry away the stress. 

“The usual,” he told the bartender.

“Put it on my tab,” Tom Riddle swivelled around on the bar stool, "Fancy meeting you here."

"You mean you didn't expect to? Didn't plan it?" Peter received his drink with barely more than a sideways glance at their adversary.

"It's just business, Peter. I know you understand that."

"Then why go through all this trouble for one act? There must be thousands - hundreds of thousands - of talented artists who could make you rich."

Tom rolled his eyes, "My father was always… a bit single-minded. He wants to put me through my paces before handing me the keys to the kingdom, so to speak. But don’t worry about that. Just know this: I think your group is talented and I can see that you’re the musical glue holding it all together. You’re the only one with any formal training, after all. And I really can see to your career’s longevity. If you stick with this boyband too long, though…” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Then what?”

“Well,” the label executive leaned in, “then you’ll need to think about what that does to your image as a real, serious musician.”

The blond boy finished his drink. 

“Another one for my friend,” Tom told the bartender, took his jacket, and left.

His calling card sat heavy in the keyboardist’s wallet.

[stusbunker]

In Heaven Lies

For Better or Worst: Chapter Four

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Emery Simmons-Winchester OFC

Other characters: Bandit (their dog), Jack Kline, Dean Winchester, Naomi, Castiel

Season 14 AU

Word Count: 1424

Summary: Jack gets a day out. We catch a glimpse of Dean’s side of the deal. A sudden visitor rocks whatever framework is holding Sam and Emery in their bubble.

Warnings:  Mind probes, suggested smut, mangled magic.

Series Masterlist

^*^*^

“History never repeats itself, but it often rhymes.”

- attributed to Mark Twain

The Bunker was quieter than usual, Mary had the AW hunters on cases and oddly Castiel was nowhere to be found. Jack felt the loneliness as if it were a companion, solid and expressive beside him. Jiminy Cricket on his shoulder, whispering to him, that if he was going to do this, it was now or never. He squinted against the remnants of Sam and Dean in his mind, knowing they wouldn’t want him to go looking for them. But no one had, and it had been months since Naomi had whisked them both away, barely a day apart. Jack had learned a lot since they had left, he knew what he was doing. At least he believed he did.

He didn’t take the Impala, that would be too obviously missed. Instead, he took one of the antique motorcycles that Dean had tuned up in the short span between Michael and then Naomi. Once he was a mile down the road, he realized he wouldn’t be able to fit a Winchester on the small seat with him. He shook his head, thoughts getting ahead of himself. One problem at a time, Jackie. He made sure to follow the speed limit and pay extra attention through towns and on interstates. He wished for his powers the farther he got from home, the more phone calls he left unanswered. He just wanted to get there, to figure this out, to bring them home.

The playground was empty, no guardian angel or passersby. Jack paced the sandbox, uncertain what would happen if he stood inside without the usual bellhop, without permission and defiantly without invitation. He wished Castiel was there but stopped the thought before it became too prayerful. He didn’t want to get caught, never wanted to disappoint his dads. They had saved him, done the impossible; how couldn’t he do the same for them? He squared his shoulders and stepped forward, calling with his thoughts to the angels on the other end of the portal. A hopeful prayer heavenward.

^*^*^

              Dean’s body was still, lying on the sterile table where it had been for the duration of his stay. The macabre crown of electrodes around his head holding the angel inside him in place without being able to separate the man from the archangel. Dean Winchester, Michael’s sword, held fast to the cage in his mind and the angel held fast to his vessel. Michael’s presence had restored some balance to the power shortage in Heaven; Naomi didn’t have to force something that neither party was willing to give. Contrary to every inch of deal she made. It was unprecedented after all, discoveries took time. Trial and error and patience. Yes, she was being diligent in the waiting.

              Behind the freckled skin and chiseled bone, within the eternal plane of Heaven but beyond their grasp, Dean Winchester sat with his hands on the wheel of an all too familiar black Chevy. Beside him, Michael sat in the passenger seat, wearing his face and that stupid cabbie hat, smug as ever.

              “We’re going to have to stop for fuel eventually, Dean,” Michael said passively, eyes darting into the night, their other constant companion.

              “Yeah, well, she’s not even half a tank yet,” Dean grumbled back, turning the volume dial. He let the cab fill with Zeppelin and kept his eyes forward, staying between the lines, true as ever.

^*^*^

              Emery felt a broad swipe of warmth, from her knee to her waist, pinching as it went, pulling her back into a wall, full of heat and ridges. Sam nuzzled the hair at the nape of her neck, where it curled when she sweat, nipping at the salt and spice of her. He rocked into the softness of her backside, prodding and moaning with the pre-waking contentment. She reached back, tugging at his hair, rolling towards him and dragging those coaxing lips to hers. He caged her in, with unrushed hums and lazy grazes, stubble, fingers, knuckles. Weekends were bliss.

              They showered, just to need another. Sam put every inch of their massive stall to use, making Emery feel half her age, for the eighteen or so hours before the sore muscles hit them both. Before that reality sank in, they let their day lead them. Finding new places in the city that they had come to thrive in. It was their third Saturday trying out dog parks and it seemed that Bandit knew what they had planned before they even managed to finish their post workout brunch. Like all the others, the park was crowded, people milling around as their fur babies fetched or chased after one another. Bandit stayed within eye shot of his people, he was just a bit overwhelmed and needed their reassurance as much as they needed his.

              They recognized a few dog-owners from their neighborhood but knew that Jason and Trudy wouldn’t be meeting them this time. They were hunkered down, waiting for her to go into labor at any moment. Emery didn’t envy their waiting game yet was wistful for pieces she couldn’t say out loud. She walked to grab them coffees from a cart, trusting Sam to keep Bandit moving. Sam sprinted away from the cluster of people letting out a fierce whistle, earning a few replies from nearby dogs. But Bandit knew it was meant for him, running in earnest, mouth hanging open as he chased down those jean-covered legs. He got happy scratches and lots of ‘good boys’ that day. Bandit liked weekends too. Then a weird man approached asking questions in a deep level tone.

“That’s an interesting combination of breeds. How long have you had him?”

“Well, he was my wife’s first, he’s part Irish Setter, but not sure what else,” Sam replied to the trench coated man.

“You’re married?” The man asked in surprise.

Sam furrowed his brow at the stranger. “Uh, yeah. Sorry buddy.”

He held up his left hand and started to walk back toward the crowds.

“Wait, Sam,” Castiel called after him.

“Whoa, man, look, I don’t know you—” Sam turned and faced his pursuer once more whose face came into drastic focus now, bluer eyes than he had ever seen. Sam suddenly lost his footing, hands reaching to his head, the last thing he heard was his name said in muddied voices and Bandit whimpering at his knee. He smelled jasmine and coffee and felt the midday sun on his eyelids, but every thought left him like skipping stones across a wind-free lake. Then he heard it again, his name, no longer hoarse, but smoky and insistent.

“Sam! What happened?” Emery shook his shoulder, looking in all directions, heat flooding her cheeks as the onlookers continued to circle around them. “Hey, stud, can you hear me? You in there?”

Sam groaned, brain sloshing against the earth’s orbit and gravity itself.

“He’s fine, thanks.” She had her professor voice on. “Let’s sit you up. Sooner we’re out of here the better.”

If there weren’t dozens of sets of eyes on them already, perhaps Emery would have noticed the pair near the far patch of trees. Watching them with pursed lips and timeless patience, Castiel had found Sam at last. Instead, Emery ditched their coffees and dragged Sam to his feet, trying to balance his weight as she guided him back to their car. Embarrassed and annoyed as strangers tried to interject with help, she called Bandit, who instinctively took Sam’s other side, saving his people more unnecessary attention.

“There was a guy,” the first discernible phrase out of Sam came as they were nearly home.

“A guy? Did he hit you? Crap, I didn’t check for your wallet,” Emery scolded herself.

“I wasn’t robbed. He, uh, he asked about Bandit.” Sam squinted, trying to remember. “I think I knew him, but now, I don’t know it’s fuzzy. I can’t even tell you what he looked like.”

“Well, maybe you just whacked your head chasing after Banders, I mean, you get ahead of yourself sometimes.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Sam looked out the passenger side window, watching the trees and houses float by.

“You feel okay otherwise?” Emery appraised Sam at a red light.

“I guess so. Just my head is kind of fuzzy,” Sam shrugged, but his jaw kept working over something.

              “Okay, well, take it easy tonight and we’ll play it from there,” Emery said down her nose before turning back to the road. The pale boat of a car behind them turned in a hurry, barely registering in their rearview mirror.

^*^*^

Read On: A Husband of Integrity

[bloggingfandoms1306]

descendants - harry (son of captain hook) imagine: broken and bruised

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: First Mate Harry Hook and Villian you

Warning: Abuse and Language

Requested: No

Word Count: 990

Summary: You were sneaking around Uma’s ship when you were stopped by two of her crew members who take things a little too far.

You were sent on a mission to steal some goods from Uma’s pirate ship from your captain, Zevon, Yzma’s son.

Zevon needed to retrieve some ingredients for his potions and sent you out to get them.

Unfortunately for you, Uma was the only one who had them. Which meant you had to climb through their heavily guarded ship and hope that you wouldn’t get caught.

—

You were on the bottom deck going through crate after crate trying to find what you were sent to get.

While you were searching two men snatched you from behind, covering your mouth with their hand and pressing their sword to your throat.

“Well well well, looks like we have a thief on our hands.” The one covering your mouth seethed. His deep voice rang in your ears. “How about we show her what happens to thieves.”

Your eyes widened and you struggled and struggled to get out of their grip, but it was no use, you were not as strong as you wished.

The two men threw you to the ground, causing you to hit your head hard and knock you a little. They started to kick you in the stomach. You screamed in pain as they smacked and kicked and slapped you, leaving massive bruises and damages to you.

One of them slashed their sword into your back, causing you to howl in pain. Your back now bleeding profusely. They stepped on your right leg as well, making a sickening cracking sound. You screeched out in pain, as you shed more tears

“Pick her up,” The man with a deep voice yelled to his mate. “Let’s bring her to the Quarters.”

—

After being dragged up three floors, you were presented to the front of the Captain Quarters.

You just prayed and prayed that you would not have to face Uma.

The men threw you down on the ground, causing you to land in a small puddle of water.

Finally, being able to see your reflection on the water, you saw your lip was bleeding, you had a black eye and you had scratches all over your face.

You couldn’t help the small droplets to fall from your face, watching them splatter into the small water puddle.

The other man, who hasn’t spoken yet, pushed his sword into your back while the other one told you to go through the doors.

You scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the room.

It was dark, but you were able to make out a dark figure standing in front of you. The figure was tall, too tall to be Uma.

“Look here another person I get to hook.” His thick Scottish accent rang out. A voice you were too familiar with. A voice you’ve grown to love.

Harry Hook.

He snapped his fingers and the lights flashed on, revealing who you knew.

You looked up from his shoes to his hat, taking in your boyfriend and the love of your life.

You didn’t know he worked for Uma. You and Harry never told each other what gang you worked for. You didn’t want that kind of stuff to get in the way of your relationship.

“Harry.” You whispered, staring into his bright blue eyes.

His heart shattered the moment he saw you in the condition you were in. His mouth ran dry, his palms became sweaty. All because his little angel was beaten and bruised.

Harry kept a promise to you. No one would ever hurt you, as long as you were dating him. He would hook whoever did. He was scared to admit that he broke the promise.

Harry waved his hook in the air, making contact with the people behind you, telling them they are dismissed.

They abruptly left, leaving you just with Harry.

He quickly dropped down to your level, helping you up and trying to avoid your leg.

“I’m going to kill those bastards.” He mumbled, carrying you towards a bench, that was placed nicely on the side of the wooden room.

“Harry, they didn’t know, they don’t deserve it.” You placed your hand against his chiseled jaw. “If it was anyone else you’d be fine with this. They were just doing their job.”

Harry placed his hook down on the oak desk and made his way towards a cabinet that was behind the desk. “It doesn’t matter. They hurt you. They hurt the love of my life. They broke you, Y/N. No one will ever get away with that.”

You smiled at the words of your boyfriend. He truly cared and loved you.

Harry made his way back to you with a first aid kit. His started to dab your cuts on your face, soaking up the now dry blood.

Harry gave you some ice and placed it against your eye lightly, but ended up causing a slight sting to your swollen eye.

He helped you take off your shirt and lay you on your stomach. He bandaged your wound together and cleaned it.

Harry gave you one of his shirts to wear. He also helped you change out of your pants, avoiding your leg as much as possible. His shirt was long enough to go down mid thigh.

“It doesn’t appear to be broken, just sprained. It will heal on its own, but we will ice it for now.” Harry’s thick accent bounced off the walls of the room. “Come on, my room is through that door.” He pointed to a door next to the cabinet he originally grabbed the first aid kit from.

—

You were finally placed into his bed. His warm covers covering you already.

Harry went to go change into a pair of black sweats before he climbing into his bed.

Once he was comfortable, Harry pulled you onto his chest, minding all of your cuts and wounds.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I love you so much and I should’ve watched out for you better.” He kissed your hair lightly.

“It’s okay, Harry, I’m alive. I made it out.” You whispered, kissing his exposed chest.

You were slowly drifting off to sleep, but not until you heard Harry whispered, “I’m going to kill anyone whoever touches you again.”

Masterlist

[fandomsblogging]

Descendants - Harry (Son of Captain Hook) Imagine: broken and bruised

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: First Mate Harry Hook and Villian you

Warning: Abuse and Language

Requested: No

Word Count: 1037

Summary: You were sneaking around Uma’s ship when you were stopped by two of her crew members who take things a little too far

You were sent on a mission to steal some goods from Uma's pirate ship from your captain, Zevon, Yzma's son.

Zevon needed to retrieve some ingredients for his potions and sent you out to get them.

Unfortunately for you, Uma was the only one who had them. Which meant you had to climb through their heavily guarded ship and hope that you wouldn't get caught.

---

You were on the bottom deck going through crate after crate trying to find what you were sent to get.

While you were searching two men snatched you from behind, covering your mouth with their hand and pressing their sword to your throat.

"Well well well, looks like we have a thief on our hands." The one covering your mouth seethed. His deep voice rang in your ears. "How about we show her what happens to thieves."

Your eyes widened and you struggled and struggled to get out of their grip, but it was no use, you were not as strong as you wished.

The two men threw you to the ground, causing you to hit your head hard and knock you a little. They started to kick you in the stomach. You screamed in pain as they smacked and kicked and slapped you, leaving massive bruises and damages to you.

One of them slashed their sword into your back, causing you to howl in pain. Your back now bleeding profusely. They stepped on your right leg as well, making a sickening cracking sound. You screeched out in pain, as you shed more tears

"Pick her up," The man with a deep voice yelled to his mate. "Let's bring her to the Quarters."

---

After being dragged up three floors, you were presented to the front of the Captain Quarters.

You just prayed and prayed that you would not have to face Uma.

The men threw you down on the ground, causing you to land in a small puddle of water.

Finally, being able to see your reflection from the water, you saw your lip was bleeding, you had a black eye and you had scratches all over your face.

You couldn't help the small droplets to fall from your face, watching them splatter into the small water puddle.

The other man, who hasn't spoken yet, pushed his sword into your back while the other one told you to go through the doors.

You scrambled to your feet and stumbled into the room.

It was dark, but you were able to make out a dark figure standing in front of you. The figure was tall, too tall to be Uma.

"Look here another person I get to hook." His thick Scottish accent rang out. A voice you were too familiar with. A voice you've grown to love.

Harry Hook.

He snapped his fingers and the lights flashed on, revealing who you knew.

You looked up from his shoes to his hat, taking in your boyfriend and the love of your life.

You didn't know he worked for Uma. You and Harry never told each other what gang you worked for. You didn't want that kind of stuff to get in the way of your relationship.

"Harry." You whispered, staring into his bright blue eyes.

His heart shattered the moment he saw you in the condition you were in. His mouth ran dry, his palms became sweaty. All because his little angel was beaten and bruised.

Harry kept a promise to you. No one would ever hurt you, as long as you were dating him. He would hook whoever did. He was scared to admit that he broke the promise.

Harry waved his hook in the air, making contact with the people behind you, telling them they are dismissed.

They abruptly left, leaving you just with Harry.

He quickly dropped down to your level, helping you up and trying to avoid your leg.

"I'm going to kill those bastards." He mumbled, carrying you towards a bench, that was placed nicely on the side of the wooden room.

"Harry, they didn't know, they don't deserve it." You placed your hand against his chiseled jaw. "If it was anyone else you'd be fine with this. They were just doing their job."

Harry placed his hook down on the oak desk and made his way towards a cabinet that was behind the desk. "It doesn't matter. They hurt you. They hurt the love of my life. They broke you, Y/N. No one will ever get away with that."

You smiled at the words of your boyfriend. He truly cared and loved you.

Harry made his way back to you with a first aid kit. His started to dab your cuts on your face, soaking up the now dry blood.

Harry gave you some ice and placed it against your eye lightly, but ended up causing a slight sting to your swollen eye.

He helped you take off your shirt and lay you on your stomach. He bandaged your wound together and cleaned it.

Harry gave you one of his shirts to wear. He also helped you change out of your pants, avoiding your leg as much as possible. His shirt was long enough to go down mid thigh.

"It doesn't appear to be broken, just sprained. It will heal on its own, but we will ice it for now." Harry's thick accent bounced off the walls of the room. "Come on, my room is through that door." He pointed to a door next to the cabinet he originally grabbed the first aid kit from.

---

You were finally placed into his bed. His warm covers covering you already.

Harry went to go change into a pair of black sweats before he climbing into his bed.

Once he was comfortable, Harry pulled you onto his chest, minding all of your cuts and wounds.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, I love you so much and I should've watched out for you better." He kissed your hair lightly.

"It's okay, Harry, I'm alive. I made it out." You whispered, kissing his exposed chest.

You were slowly drifting off to sleep, but not until you heard Harry whispered, "I'm going to kill anyone whoever touches you again."

Masterlist

[nicksstoryvault]

Standing in the early mist of dawn, the glints of rising light reflected off the heft of his metallic plated armor. Wearing the semblance of unshakeable command, Steve took up his battle stance, the unbridled pulses of his enhanced strength revelling in perfect sync, as he remained grounded in the center of the sparring court-the amphitheater, waiting for instructions of Artemis to execute as his abreast duelist prepared to engage. He felt like an untamed stallion, his cool, piercing azure eyes alight with lightning intensity teeming to become unleashed as he craved to clash a shield once again with a drawn sword.

For the last six months on his mother's island, Steve endured brutal and raw training by the relentless command of his instructors, reels of exhaustion gripped him to the bone, as the density of his well-defined and thick muscles hardened into a bulk form of a Spartan warrior -he had evolved into a true combatant, the sharp contours of his square jaw was swatched with pricks of unshaved stubble, his shortened golden-blond locks gained unkempt length behind his ears. He was a stark contrast of youthful angelic and modest hearted First Avenger-America's poster boy- the full apex of endurance by his laboring trials morphed his visage into a rugged and chiseled warrior.

He was adorned with a bronze crested Trojan helmet that captured gleams of light with the engraved insignia of Athena: the silver owl; whetstone curved guards jutted out, chafing over the broadness of his set jaw. A pale gold breastplate was fastened over the dense planes of his sculpted torso, as bronze greaves were strapped over his knees.

Hefting up the hoplite sword in the clutch of his steady knuckled grip, Steve braced his prama shield against his armored chest, showing no ghosts of resistance as his steeled azure depths blazingly leveled with his mirrored and impassive opponent. A stalemate of a combative duel that he knew all too well. 

Feeling his full shapely pull into a boyish smirk, a daring pulse instilled his rooted stance; in a space of a moment, Steve felt the surges of dominating momentum, resistance needed to become a second thought as he remained poised and vigilant, listening to the echoing vexatious oinks and grunts of his ensorcelled and hoggish best friend--Bucky who presently was leashed to a wooden pole, munching on a gnawed yellow fleshed plum. 

It was gut-wrenching to fathom that James ‘Bucky Barnes’ now existed in the form of an enormously and docile obese hog who spent his days relishing in gluttonous instincts, the damning reality was inevitable that Bucky would soon fall in the thralls of Ares’s degrading curse. Veering a steeled gaze of soulful azure back at the unkempt dark chestnut and cinder furred pig, Steve watched pieces of plum land sloppily over Bucky’s wrinkling snout. His expression grew crestfallen at the second Bucky reared his wedged head up, looking towards him with the searing glacial fire of steel-aquamarine, before he stubbornly delved into his clay bowl of fruit. That fueled a blaze of defiance. "Okay, you can do this, Rogers..." he whispered in a low breath, rigidly poising his solid weight as he gave a slight nod to Artemis, knowing that her tolerance was limited. "Gotta keep standin'..." 

In a lightning fast precision, Steve felt the burgeoning vibrations of the thrusting sword against his raised shield, there was no warning. A gritted wince, feverishly he involutionairy slid back on the heels of his leather sheathed boots, feeling his indomitable and unchained strength being equaled matched by his efficient contender. Nothing would avail has brute force collided with a shield of defense. Before he gained a braver measure of reaction, the hilt of the arcing sword bashed viciously against his exposed jaw. Errant tears rapidly blurred his vision as he tasted a brackish tang of blood. Gracelessly, Steve reeled back as the throbbing left him nauseously breathless. ‘What just happened...’

"You cannot hold back with the memories you harbor, Steven," Artemis spoke in a firm and thunderous resonance, narrowing her silver-gray eyes on her newest recruit and cousin. She clenched her sharpened jaw, staring at the vestiges of empathy Steve demonstrated in his advancing paces of footing. "These are not the mortal battles you are used to with your Avenger warriors, everything that you carry within must be weaponized, all instinct converged to an exact action, no resistance...You cannot expect your opponent to yield when bone is crushed.  What you have been taught in the uniform of Captian America, it rivals nothing to the skills of Athena..."