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dreamwritesimagines · 1 day

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The Eye of the Hurricane [37] - Crown

A.N: Last two chapters! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Live by the sword, die by the sword.

Word Count: 2700

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Violence, violence, I'M SERIOUS THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS ONE, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship, mentions of sex. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

If anything, it started out as a normal day.

“You are so pretty!” you told Alpine as you fixed the ribbon around her neck, then held up the feathery pen so that she could jump at it while you sat on the floor. “Yes you are! The prettiest princess in the entire world!”

“Charm?”

“Over here!” you called out and heard Bucky come downstairs, then he filled himself a cup of coffee before looking over his shoulder.

“You want some babe?”

“Nope,” you said, stroking Alpine’s fur. “Bucky, what are the chances that we got the prettiest and nicest cat in the entire world?”

“Zero, she’s an asshole.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“I love her, but it doesn’t mean she’s not an asshole,” Bucky said. “She never comes when I call.”

“Because she’s a cat, not a dog,” you said. “If we have a child one day, we’re so calling them Alpine Two.”

“We’re not going to do that.”

“Alpine Two and Alpine Three.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Don’t listen to him, they’ll be Alpine Two and Three,” you told Alpine as Bucky sipped his coffee.

“Do you wanna grab lunch today?”

“I can’t,” you said. “I promised Ethan.”

He blinked a couple of times. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am not having this argument with you again when we’re in love and fucking each other’s brains out every night,” you pointed out, making him grin. “Relax with the jealousy dumbass, you already know I’m in love with you.”

He heaved a sigh, then held up his hands.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Go meet the puppy.”

“Bucky.”

“Is he not a puppy around you?”

“He’s my friend,” you said. “My friend whom I haven’t met in a while.”

“Yeah yeah…”

You scratched at Alpine’s head when she head bumped your knee while Bucky tilted his head.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been weird since we had dinner at your father’s place.”

“Sure,” you said after a beat and he raised his brows.

“Charm.”

“No I’m fine,” you said. “I’m fine, I’ve just been thinking.”

“About?”

“Business,” you said. “My father’s business, to be specific.”

He sipped his coffee. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“God no,” you said. “Of course not. I’m thinking about the consequences of it, that’s all. What it will mean for me.”

“It means the crown for you.”

You pursed your lips together. “And for Ian?”

He scoffed. “Who cares? You hate Ian.”

“Obviously I hate him,” you said. “But I’ll have to kill him, you do know that.”

“He signed his own death warrant the moment he accepted that heir position at the expense of you,” Bucky said. “I’ll kill him for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “How fucked up is it that I find this romantic?”

“That’s because I am romantic,” he said with a smirk. “Seriously. If you want me to—”

“I’ll just cross that bridge when I come to it,” you pointed out. “I appreciate the offer though.”

Bucky checked his wristwatch, then came closer to you to kiss you on the top of your head, and scratched at Alpine’s head.

“Gotta go,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight?”

“Sure!” you said and watched him walk out of the apartment, then heaved a sigh and looked down at Alpine.

“Alright,” you said. “Come on, let’s get you some treats.”

The café Ethan had suggested was in your father’s territory, so it was a short car drive. Seeing that the weather was slowly getting cold nowadays, it didn’t surprise you to see Ethan already inside the nearly empty café as you walked in, and waved at him before making your way to him.

“Hey!” you said and he stood up to hug you.

“Hey stranger,” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“It really has,” you said, motioning for a cup of coffee at the waitress who forced a smile, then disappeared into the kitchen. You frowned slightly, but then turned to look at Ethan when he cleared his throat.

“So what’s been up with you lately?”

“Absolute chaos,” you pointed out, making him smile. “No seriously, things are just now starting to calm down.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah there was this business thing,” you muttered. “Never mind. How about you? What have you been doing lately?”

“I’m actually…” he paused for a moment. “I’m actually moving back to my hometown.”

Your eyes widened, your jaw dropping.

“What?” you asked. “Why?”

“I don’t think New York is for me,” he said as you heard the wind bells chime by the door. “Or any big city for that matter.”

You opened your mouth to ask why, but a strange shiver went down your spine, the hair at the back of your neck rising up as his eyes went over your shoulder. You didn’t even have the time to think, your body seemed to have responded on instinct as the result of many years of training, so you kicked the table in his direction and jumped to your feet, but before you could turn around, two men had already grabbed you by the arms. You managed to kick one of them, turning around to punch the other, but another man caught your fist and turned you around, his friend punching you right on the nose so hard that you knew from the crack that he broke it before the blinding pain shot through your face. You stumbled back as two of them held you by the arms again and another one grabbed his gun, flipped it and slammed it on your head.

Then everything went black.

You couldn’t tell which one woke you up, the cold or the burning pain starting from your nose and spreading through your whole head. Your vision was blurry when you forced yourself to open your eyes, now realizing your hands were bound and a groan left your lips as you blinked as fast as you could to see better.

Ah.

Two of Ian’s men were waiting by the door along while Ethan sat across from you, his eyes fixed on the floor. You could feel your heart dropping to your stomach but you forced yourself to focus, there had to be a way out of this—

You just needed to find it.

The room you were in appeared to be a butcher’s freezer, which made you think you were at the edge of your father’s territory. The pain in your head was so heavy that you could barely just hold your head up, let alone moving your body so you gritted your teeth, taking a deep breath through your mouth.

“I’m sorry,” you heard Ethan’s voice and you turned your head to see him looking down at the gun in his lap, your hands shooting up to wipe the blood on your face before touching your forehead.

Okay, that needed stitches.

“You’re sorry?” you repeated with a dry laugh. “How long have you been working for him?”

He shook his head fervently, rubbing his thumb over the gun.

“I don’t—I didn’t—” he stammered. “He contacted me couple of months ago.”

You raised your brows. “Let me guess, he’s paying you a shit load of money?”

He shook his head again.

“He said…he said he’d kill me if I didn’t...” he muttered. “For God’s sake I never wanted this whole bullshit, I don’t even know how to use—” he pushed at the tiny button beside the gun, the magazine dropping to the floor and a couple of bullets scattering around as one of Ian’s men came closer.

“What the fuck?” he asked him, snatching the gun out of his hand and picking up the magazine before walking to the other side of the room to continue his conversation with the other man. You gritted his teeth, anger pulsing through you.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan repeated and you shook your head.

“You know you’re going to die right?” you asked him. “You’ve just signed your own death warrant by pulling this shit.”

“Civilians aren’t harmed, that’s what the truce—”

“Civilians aren’t harmed as long as they remain civilians,” you corrected him, pulling at the rope around your wrists to loosen it a little. “You’ve just thrown your hat in the ring, buddy. And trust me; if Ian doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill you and if he does manage to kill me, Bucky will hunt you down, and kill you. Torture you first probably too. So regardless of if I die or not, you definitely will Ethan.”

“I’ll move out of the city.”

“There’s no city we can’t reach.”

“That’s not true,” he argued with you. “Everyone is saying Chicago is its own city.”

A small smile curled your lips despite fear churning your stomach, a small spark of satisfaction rushing through you.

“Right,” you said. “Sure. Move to Chicago.”

He swallowed thickly, then turned his head when the door opened and Ian walked in with Ryan. Ryan stopped dead in his tracks as soon as his eyes fell on your face, but then he gritted his teeth, snapping something at the men by the door under his breath. It was impossible to hear what he had said, but judging by the way it made them step back, it couldn’t be anything nice.

“Hi there cousin,” Ian had the audacity to smile at you as Ethan stood up from his chair.

“I can go right?” he said. “You promised.”

“Sure, some of our boys will accompany you to the border of the city, then you’re on your own,” Ian said. “Thank you for this. New York will owe you.”

You clenched your jaw, glaring up at Ian as Ethan walked out of the room and Ian tut tutted.

“You just couldn’t help it, could you?” he asked you. “All you had to do was just marry Barnes and give him an heir, and then you could spend money and do nothing for the rest of your life, but you just couldn’t do it.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“Those are some big words for someone who’s about to die.”

No.

You couldn’t let panic take over your mind, you just couldn’t.

The safest option was to cling to anger.

“You don’t get to kill me and stay alive, Ian.”

“Oh I won’t be the one who killed you,” he said. “Your ex-boyfriend did. Everyone saw him meet you at that café after all.”

“And you think my dad will buy that bullshit?”

“I’ll make him buy it.”

“You think Bucky will buy that?” you spat and he shrugged his shoulders.

“No, he will come after me,” Ian said. “And that’ll start a war. Too bad.”

You gritted your teeth. “You don’t have the means to survive a war, dickhead.”

“You have no reason to worry about that,” Ian said. “You’re not walking out of here alive after all.”

You licked your lips, the metallic taste of blood reaching your throat as Ian nodded at his men.

“Untie her.”

One of his men came to cut the rope around your wrist and helped you up while the other one pointed his gun at you just in case. The whole room was spinning around you, your heart beating in your throat but you tried to fix your breathing.

It was fine.

It was going to be fine.

“Ryan, my gun,” Ian ordered and Ryan stared at you, then pulled out the gun from his waistband, quickly taking out the magazine to check the bullets before sliding it in again.

“Leave us,” Ian said and Ryan licked his lips, stealing a look at you before he walked outside with the rest of Ian’s men following him. He slammed the heavy door behind them and you clenched your fists, still glaring at Ian.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Ian said, pointing the gun at your face. “I did, numerous times. Get on your knees.”

“No,” you said. “If you’re going to kill me, you’re going to kill me standing.”

Ian took a deep breath, then swallowed thickly.

“As you wish,” he said and raised the gun a little to aim for your forehead, the fear making your eyes burn but you quickly blinked the tears back, forcing yourself to focus on—

Bucky.

It was strange, how it worked. Everyone talked about how this business was dangerous, but no one talked about what one would think when there was a gun about to blow their head off.

There was fear yes, but the memory of happiness shed a small ray of sunlight on it. Knowing Bucky would stop at nothing to take your revenge almost soothed the pain of knowing you would never see him again, at least—

At least in this life.

But you knew you loved him. He knew you loved him.

That was enough, somehow. Even with a gun pointing at your head.

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” Ian recited. “Goodbye, cousin.”

You closed your eyes, holding your breath and bracing yourself for the deafening gunshot but the only thing that echoed through the room was the empty click, making your eyes snap open while Ian gawked at the gun in his hand, fear flashing over his face as he froze.

…Ryan.

Ryan had taken out the bullets.

The adrenaline that roared through you was powerful enough to overcome the fog in your brain or the pain on your face as you lunged at him to knock the gun out of his hand, slamming him back to the heavy door, the unmistakable sound of gunshots echoing outside. Ian shoved you back as hard as he could and tried to swing a punch at you but you quickly dodged it, elbowing him on the nose.

“Welcome to your cage fight, Ian,” you spat as he wiped at his nose.

“You dumb bitch…” he muttered, then swung at you again but you quickly stepped back, grabbed his wrist and turned it with all your strength until you heard the pop, and his yell of pain. He kicked you on the knee hard, making you scream out of pain as you stumbled back, and he tried to grab at you with his other hand but you had already punch him right in the neck, making him gasp and fall on his knees, clutching at his neck.

“You know,” you said, breathing hard as you grabbed the gun off the floor and picked up one of the bullets Ethan had dropped earlier. “I should thank you for this. I was having second thoughts earlier, but now…”

He was still gasping for air as you slid the magazine out, put the bullet inside and slid it back again, making him drag himself back on his palms until his back hit the wall.

“Exile me,” he managed to say, and you tilted your head. “Exile me somewhere else.”

You shook your head, adrenaline making your head spin.

“You know how this shit goes,” you said through clenched teeth. “You tried to kill me. Exiling you isn’t enough.”

“I’ll forfeit the title!” he said, still breathless and you shook your head again, then pointed the gun at him with a sigh.

“I'm sorry Ian,” you said. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

With that, you pulled the trigger and heard the loud bang before the blood splattered over your face, making you grimace as his body slipped on the floor. You wiped at your face, then slammed open the door to point the gun at whoever was outside, but the only thing you could see was Ian’s men bleeding on the ground while Ryan stood by the door, his back straight as if he was waiting for your order.

“Ma’am,” he said with his hands clasped behind him, and he bowed his head a little as you smiled at him.

“Thank you,” you rasped out, raising your head to stare up at the dark sky before turning to him. “Ryan, is there any chance you’re looking for a new job?”

The corners of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

“Working for your father’s heir would be an honor, ma’am,” he said softly and you let out a small laugh.

“Good,” you said as you limped to the car parked right outside the back alley with Ryan following you. “You’re hired.”

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clannfearrunt · 16 hours

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I was supposed to go to bed 2 hours ago but I am having such fun with the timeline program

you can hover over events to display details.

#''how do you share this with people'' we will cross this bridge when we get to it.#primarily this is for my own brainfiddling. it's so hard without just being able to See This.#Con stop yapping #Squid 2 the evolution of the squid

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autumnslance · 2 days

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FFXIV Write 2024: 21 Shade

(You can all blame @voidsentprinces and one of their posts for inspiring this one cuz I sure as heck am. Spoilers through Dawntrail.)

In the colorful forests of Kozama’uka, a strange movement of light green catches my eye. For a moment, I imagine.

“This one finds this forest so lively! Will these ones feast soon with the bright feathered ones again?”

It was a trick of the light on banana leaves. The shade of our little courageous one is gone again.

We’re still in Kozama’uka, but the roar of the waterfalls is below instead of above, and we’re trying to reach out to the bandits harassing the Potsworn.

I think of a boy with gold hair and an eager smile, no longer wearing blue. “You gave me a second chance, and I’ve never regretted it. We’ll find a way to help them, too!”

I blink, and realize the only resemblance in the bandit before me is that he’s young and blond. The shade of our foolishly brave boy is gone again.

I cross the bridge to Shaaloani, with its hot, dry plains rolling into the distance, eventually leading to grasslands in the northeast and craggy hills in the west, toward what was Yyasulani.

A Landsguard officer speaks an order, but in familiar tones, a comrade to his men. His voice stirs a memory, and my mind wanders again.

“We’re a long away from Quarrymill, but this reminds me in some ways of home. I bet you still hear thanks enough whenever you go back.”

I look at the soldiers laughing with each other before dispersing to their duties. The shade of our revolutionary captain is gone again.

The sky always seems so close in Worlar’s Echo. The Yok Huy see a few more traders these days. I’m watching the moon cross the sky when someone lights a pipe, the smoke wafting past my nose. Comfortable as I am, I’m halfway to dreaming already.

“Foolishness. We know what it is now, hardly deserving the veneration bestowed upon it for so long. And you surely have better things to do than mourn the likes of me.”

I turn to protest, but now I am fully awake and see the pelupelu merchants smoking and haggling. The shade of our spiteful witch is gone again.

There’s a sense of responsibility to the people afflicted with levin sickness, especially the children. I make sure that Oblivion is getting the families everything they need. I visit the first boy we met with this illness, and offer a treat of real fruit juice from the farms. It’s a good day, and he smiles as he sips, his mother smiling through her tears as he manages the straw.

“You learn to take what moments of happiness you can get. You figured out how to help the light afflicted and the tempered; this too will be defeated in time. But find the little victories where you can meanwhile.”

I look up from the boy’s bed. It’s just him, his mother, and me in the room. The shade of our fierce carer is gone again.

I’m still awake in the pre-dawn hours, so take a mug of mate with me to the end of the boardwalk to watch the dawn. The endless blue of the water, with the light piercing into my eyes, makes me remember a similar sight at the end and start of everything.

“There is no true challenge in this land. ‘Tis a wonder you are not bored. But you always have found meaning and pleasure in people and their small matters.”

The sun continues rising and the city wakes. The shade of my antagonistic mirror is gone again.

I finish my mate, return to my cabin, and go to bed.

They come and go, these ghostly memories. Some not as much as they used to, since that journey into the aetherial sea. Perhaps their aid and that last chance to say goodbye made a difference.

Maybe I am simply sentimental.

“The burden of heroes and leaders,” one of my newer ones says. “We spend all our time fighting for their lives and happiness, and feel it keenly when we fail them. Yet they helped to shape us, and so stay with us. And we strive to do better by those who come after them.”

I look up, but the shade of that heroic father is gone, the echo of his boisterous laugh ringing through his city’s streets, in his daughter’s own laughter. She waves to me now, her brother, her nephew, and our comrades with her. They are all exuberant and bright and alive, with so much possibility ahead.

I laugh as I wave to my friends.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2024 #lyn writing #Dawntrail #Warrior of Light #gang's all here #the ones who didn't get recalled before #or have happened since #Noraxia #Wilred Glasse #Meffrid Noward #Yotsuyu goe Brutus #Tesleen Stoneplowe #Zenos Galvus #Gulool Ja Ja

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dreamofcamelot · 1 day

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What about….. descendants AU???

(Quick idea bcs fight of our lives is on repeat rn. It’s going to be messy since im copying what I had in my notes, so excuse any typos)

-----------------------------------------------------------

So Arthur is the prince of Avalon blah blah blah instead of villains here they banned magic and sent all sorcerers to the isle.

Ok so Morgana turns out to be a sorcerer, Arthur who is about to be crowned king is like “we need to do something this has to change, let’s give them a chance” so he decides to invite a few of the children of the isle to come and study here.

Now enter the vks

We got manic pixie boy Merlin who grew up with stories about magic and dragons and his (absent) father and hates what the crown has done to sorcerers and magic. He's always felt like his very existence is a crime.

His magic? Banned. Books? Confiscated. He’s lived all his life in the isle so he does not know what magic feels like but but but he knows there’s something in his chest a pressure like he can’t never take a real breath like there’s something holding him back. He feels there’s something inside him that’s begging to come out.

Merlin, Nimue, Freya idk all the sorcerers maybe Mordred can come too I like him, are chosen to go to Avalon High.

They are happy about it, yeah why not, maybe things are finally changing and they might have a chance at leaving the island and having a different future, they heard the prince is not like his father, they want to give him a chance.

Merlin specially wants to give him, whoever he is, a chance.

Then they get there n meet Arthur n he’s all formal and wear this fake smile n Merlin can tell he’s doing this reluctantly, he is not confortable or happy to be greeting them, their presence alone bother him and it’s showing.

It’s obvious to them that deep down he hates magic n since magic is what he is he must hate Merlin too so not a great start.

When they crossed the bridge, Merlin felt it, it’s like the world got back it’s colors, like seeing, breathing for the first time.

Magic is in desuse in Avalon so people don’t learn it nor practice it but since Merlin is magic the second he leaves the isle he's able to use magic naturally as if he had been doing it all his life.

He begins experimenting with it and conjuring cute fire dragons and showing the others what they missed all those years and suddenly he realises that up until that point, without his magic, the very source of his being, Merlin was not living.

For the first time in his life he feels something. And then his hatred become stronger. How could they have taken this away from them, from him? Completion never felt more bittersweet.

And then, instead of going the d1 route, something happens, maybe Agravaine's being nasty again and throwing a coup d’etat or smth cause I really want to throw here the plot of d4 and bam they need to fix it, they must go to the past together n then, because they are a couple of dumbasses in every universe they start fighting n mess up with the pocket watch.

So instead of traveling to a few moments before the incident they end up to when magic was about to get banned and wow they discover the truth about Merlin’s incredible powers n learn about his dragon lord dad and wow is that Arthur’s mom? Wait what is his dad doing with a sorcerer?? Unbelievable. They have more in common than any of them thought before.

Etc etc etc 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

#welcome to the absolute madness that is my brain #I just need to see them eating candy and surfing the internet for the first time!!!!!#let them discover they can be more than what Uther told them they were #let them support each other and discover together the wonders of magic and a world where they can be free #and let them show it to Arthur and Morgana and Gwen and the knights and everyone in the academy that was raised with hatred towards magic #of course at some point they will channel their inner Mal and Ben and fall in love in a tragic manner #but that's something I will write another day #I bought the new book if it's any good be sure there's going to be a descendants wonderland AU coming #never underestimate my descendants obsession #real question WHO from the past is performing shuffle of love #(it’s Balinor lol)#disney descendants #bbc merlin #descendants au #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #merthur #au idea #my post

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accio-sriracha · 8 hours

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"Will you read to me?"

A Wolfstar oneshot using 5 randomly generated words as prompts: Vehicle, Adoption, Ideology, Light, and Harp.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Remus sat on the sofa in the common room, content with the book in his hands and his tea sitting in front of him.

The boys were at quidditch practice, so he knew he would have a while to unwind and relax before-

"Honey! I'm home!" James' voice called as the portrait door swung open.

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"You ended practice early?" He asked, his attempt at lightheartedness failing miserably.

"Yup! More time to spend with you, Moony dearest." Sirius climbed through after him, plopping down on the sofa beside Remus.

"Hello, Moony." Peter smiled as the portrait closed behind them, "Whatcha reading?"

Remus placed his bookmark back within the pages, "I was reading Veronica Goth."

"Isn't that the Difference series?" James asked, sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of him and peering over his lap at the book.

"That would be the one, yes." Remus tried not to let his irritation show.

Sirius noticed, always overly perceptive,

"Hey guys? Can I talk to Moons alone for a second?" He asked.

James shrugged, standing up and slinging his arm around Peter's shoulders,

"Sure thing, Pete and I have an exploding snaps rematch due any minute now." He smirked, dragging Peter up the stairs.

The silence that followed made Remus let out a quiet breath of relief.

"Was it the noise or just our presence?" Sirius asked after a long moment, he didn't look offended, only concerned.

Remus leaned his head back against the sofa, "Am I a terrible person if I say both?"

Sirius shook his head, "You have way too much to stress about in your life, you deserve a break to relax every now and then. You know we won't hold it against you."

"I do love you guys, I swear-" He started, the familiar guilt already weighing him down. Sirius placed a hand on his arm, stopping him,

"Remus, don't. We love you too, and we know how much you care about us. This isn't about that, it's about you getting rest."

His voice was stern, his gaze could have rivaled even McGonagall's.

"I'm sorry, I know." Remus whispered, "Thank you."

Sirius nodded and pulled his hand away, "Anytime, Moony. Really, I mean it."

Remus took a sip of his tea, which was starting to get cold. Sirius didn't have to ask, casting a warmth charm over it as Remus set it back down on the table.

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" Remus asked, "It's like you can read my mind."

"You have very expressive eyes." Sirius answered, shrugging, "So I guess, in a way, I kind of can."

Remus smiled at him, nudging their shoulders together, "Thank you." He said again.

Sirius gestured towards the book,

"What part are you on?" He asked. Remus looked down,

"They're taking the vehicles back to Chicago." He replied, opening the book and turning it for him to see.

"Is a broomstick technically a vehicle?" Sirius asked, frowning in thought.

Remus gave a surprised laugh, "Um... well, yes. Any method of transportation is. But that only applies to our kind of broomsticks."

"So... with magic, isn't everything a vehicle?" Sirius asked, cocking his head to the side.

Remus always found it amusing when he looked like this, he truly was his animagious in every form.

"It would only be considered such after it as been given the ability to transport something, but yeah." Remus nodded, "I suppose you could say the same for adding wheels to things."

Sirius nodded, satisfied, "Will you read to me?" He asked quietly.

This surprised Remus, Sirius had never asked him that before. He nodded anyways, relaxing into the couch again and watching Sirius curl up into a ball, staring at him expectantly.

He read the first few paragraphs, glancing every other sentence at Sirius to see if he was still listening. He was.

After he'd gotten through two pages, he had to admit he was decently impressed.

"You never sit through lessons like this." Remus commented. Sirius shrugged,

"I like the way you talk." He yawned, stretching his arms over his head, "It's very relaxing."

Sirius' slow blinks and unguarded expression seemed out of place on him, he was usually so tense and ready for action.

Remus found he liked him like this, it was... sweet.

"Did you want me to continue reading?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded, adjusting himself so he leaned against Remus' shoulder, reading the page along with him,

"Yes, please." He mumbled sleepily.

Remus continued, no longer pausing to check if Sirius was paying attention.

After he'd gotten through the next few pages he was positive Sirius had fallen asleep. But then he spoke,

"Do you ever think about adoption?" He whispered. Remus looked down at him,

"Adoption?" He repeated.

Sirius nodded, "Yeah, I think it would be nice to adopt a kid."

"Why don't you want to have one yourself?" Remus asked, keeping his voice gentle so he wouldn't disturb this peace.

Sirius hummed and nuzzled closer to him, pressing his face to Remus' chest.

Remus didn't dare to breath, he waited without moving as Sirius' muffled reply came,

"I want to give someone another chance. I want to give them a better life."

Remus nodded. Carefully, slowly, he placed a hand on Sirius' back.

Sirius didn't shake him off, he only turned and wiggled closer until his head was resting in Remus' lap, curled up on his side.

Hesitantly, Remus ran a hand through Sirius' hair. He knew he shouldn't have, Sirius never let anyone touch his hair, but something in his mind told him it was the right thing to do.

And it was, Sirius let out a content sigh and closed his eyes again.

"It might be something to consider." Remus whispered, referring to their conversation. He gently combed through Sirius' hair with his fingers, amazed by how soft it was, even after they'd just gotten back from practice.

"Yeah, I mean-" He paused to yawn again, "What's the harm in it, right?"

Remus chuckled, "Well I think that phrase may have been spoiled for us now. There's usually some damage that follows it."

Sirius sighed, "Maybe. But a little more risk won't kill anyone."

Remus smiled, watching the way his expression softened and how his shoulders relaxed entirely,

"It's that kind of ideology that got us stuck in those problems in the first place." He reminded him, "But in this scenerio..."

He thought about a young child who'd been brought into the world and abandoned one way or another. He thought about giving that child a home, a new life as Sirius had put it.

"I think it's worth a little risk." He agreed.

And something about this, something about the way Sirius trusted him completely, let him touch where no would else was allowed, let him watch over him and dropped his guard when he never had before.

It made Remus feel something strange.

Sirius was... well, he was beautiful. There was never any question to that.

The way the light draped across him from the fireplace was an art of itself. Remus was- and he never thought he would describe himself as such- totally enamored.

"I think its worth it." Sirius mumbled, "I want to play songs for them and read them stories."

"You'll sing for them?" Remus asked, smiling fondly down at Sirius. He nodded,

"Yeah. When I was young my mother made me take piano lessons, and sometimes I would be taught to play the harp. So I think it would be nice if I could play for my kid someday."

"That's really nice, Sirius." Remus continued petting his hair. Eventually, Sirius turned again so he stared up at him, long black strands laid in a halo around his head,

"Can you keep reading to me?" Sirius asked quietly. Remus nodded,

"Yeah, of course." He picked up the book again, keeping his voice as soft as he could manage and starting where he left off.

Sirius fell asleep to the sound of Remus' voice and the feeling of his fingers in his hair.

Remus kept reading even after he'd fallen asleep. He was just so happy and content he didn't want it all to end.

When James and Peter came down to check on them some time later they walked out to this scene, to Remus' eyes filled with newfound love and adoration. To Sirius' smile in his sleep as he curled up in Remus' lap. The fireplace had long since died out, leaving the gentle cadence of Remus' voice to be the only sound in the room.

James and Peter took the hint, sneaking quietly back up the stairs to give them privacy, happy their friends had finally found each other.

Because they deserved it. They deserved the peace and lifetime of love they knew this relationship would bring.

On their way up the stairs, quick enough that you would miss it in a blink, James and Peter's hands exchanged a few sickles.

And never again did Sirius fall asleep to anything but the sound of Remus' voice, or the feeling of his hands combing through his hair. And that was perfectly fine by him.

#marauders #marauders era #harry potter #marauders headcanon #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #wolfstar headcanon #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar oneshot #randomly generated prompts

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3amfanfiction · 3 days

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It's Just Dinner pt 3

John needs another date and Kyle is very convincing. MDNI cw: gazlighting, manipulation, forced prostitution 2.8k First || Previous

Thankfully the next few weeks pass quietly. There's no surprise dates, no uncomfortable conversations. Just you and Kyle, like it used to be.

You're tentatively relaxing into the rhythm when the next bombshell goes off.

Kyle's running around, getting ready to head to base early in the morning, talking to you over his shoulder when you hear, "Price has an opera he needs to see with one of the brass this weekend and he needs a date. I told him you were free," finishing with his shoes he grabs a jacket, coming over to give you a dirty kiss complete with a healthy grasp of your ass. "We'll go shopping when I get back," —assured, nonchalant, just another day.

No. No! You're not doing this again!

"Kyle! You can't just volunteer me—"

"Bye, babe!" echos through the entryway as the door slams shut.

Conversation over.

///

You fumed for hours. How dare he? How DARE he? Did he think you were a child he could make decisions for? Absolutely not.

You were ready for him now.

You'd spent all day preparing and when Kyle got home tonight you were going to sit him down and you were going to be firm. You weren't going to let him talk over you, you were going to stand your ground tell him you wouldn't be going on any more dinner dates with John Price.

Simple.

But as with any battle plan, it only lasted through the first encounter.

"Why are you acting like this?" Kyle frowned, not understanding. You crossed your arms defensively where you were standing in the bedroom, having followed him in when he got home. Why did you feel defensive?

You watched him pause, holding his t shirt in one hand as he looked over to you, head tilted in confusion. "You said you'd go, I already told him you agreed." He stepped towards you, dropping his shirt back in the drawer before stopping a short distance away, "you can't back out now babe, he's already booked the reservations."

Stop. Take a breath. You're not going to lose your temper.

"I never said I'd go, Kyle."

"Yes you did!" he insisted, eyes wide in disbelief, rolling right over your moment of breathing, "I was standing next to the kitchen table this morning—putting on my shoes—and you said yes."

He took a small step, bridging the distance between the two of you.

"Are you feeling okay, love?" his concerned voice made annoyed pinpricks creep up your spine. "You've been awful stressed lately. Is something going on at work? Anything you want to talk about?"

For one moment you imagined dumping it all on his shoulders, hysterically yelling, I'm pretty sure your boss tried to kiss me! to see what he would do with the information.

Kyle lifted his hands to cup your face, rubbing your noses together gently before you could do anything hasty. "We're partners . . . you know I've always got you, right?"

And just like that, the annoyance dissipated.

"I know, Kyle. That isn't what this is about," you reassured, leaning into his warm calloused palms, taking strength from his presence. "I just don't want to go to an opera this weekend."

You never brought up the half-kiss John had pressed to the corner of your mouth. After your bathroom pep talk you had met back up with him and he behaved himself for the rest of the night—there was no reason to worry Kyle about it.

But it still festered in the back of your mind.

His brow furrowed while he looked disappointingly at you, "Love, it would look really bad if I had to go back to my superior officer and say, 'sorry sir, she changed her mind, we can't help you.' It puts me in a bad spot when he's counting on us, on you, for the night."

His expression turned sad, "I wish you wouldn't have agreed if you had reservations about this."

Did you agree? He seems so certain, remembers it so clearly, maybe you did indicate acceptance somehow this morning, unwittingly.

"No—no I didn't agree, or at least, that's not what I meant," you capitulate, giving ground, shoulders rounding ever so slightly.

You have been stressed lately.

Maybe he's right.

He pulled away to frown down at you, "why are you so against going to dinner this time? Last time you were excited to go."

"I wasn't excited Kyle," you stammered, "I told you I wasn't sure about all this."

"No babe, you told me you were nervous," he pauses to smile at you as if you were in on a secret together, "after all Price is a handsome man and anyone would be nervous to have his full attention on them," you firmly don't think about the swoop in your stomach when he had cupped the back of your neck, the static shock that skated up your spine when his lips brushed yours, ever so slightly.

"—but then you had a great time." you focus back on what Kyle is saying, pulling your wandering mind under control, "I don't understand why you're being so skittish about this now."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest before shuffling the both of you over to the bed. Sitting, he moved you into his lap, chest to chest so he could look into your eyes.

"Are you sure no one said or did anything?" His voice dripped with sincerity, looking for something to fix, some way to help, "You know you're my best girl, right? I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

Fuck. How do you keep messing this up? Now you're sitting here crying as Kyle promises to protect you. Should you just tell him? Get it over with, off your chest. Would that unlock the chain that was dragging you down? You wanted it to go back to how it was before.

No. You weren't a child and you didn't need to be babied. Nothing truly happened so there was nothing to tell Kyle.

But without telling him, you didn't have a valid reason for not going this time.

So you sat there in silence, unable to give ground any further. After a few moments of this, Kyle continued, tone lowered —assured, "Who's always looking out for you? Making sure that you're safe and you're happy, hmm?" he used his thumb to wipe away the tear tracks on your face.

"You," you assure quickly. This at least came easier, "but Kyle, this is—"

"Pet," stern, direct, "you're getting all twisted up in this when you don't need to be. You trust me right? You know I'm always doing whats best for us?" he holds your gaze, forehead pressed against yours, watching every flick of your eyes. "I love you more than I ever thought possible, but if you don't trust me . . . that's a hard thing to come back from, you know?"

"I do! I do trust you Kyle, I'm sorry. I don't know why I feel this way," rushed, pleading.

"I told you, even though you're my best girl, your head still gets in the way. We need to turn that pretty brain off, don't we?" He kisses you sweetly, as if you're everything he could ever want. "I've got us, baby. I wouldn't steer wrong."

Breathe.

"Okay," you give in after one more moment of resistance, tired of the pushing and pulling, the cyclical conversations, "okay, I'll go. But this is the last time, do you hear me Kyle Garrick?" You pulled back to show him your no nonsense face, "I'm not doing this again."

Kyle laughs as if you'd stomped your foot in assertion, something too cute to ever be taken seriously, "I hear you, babe. Thank you for coming around to see my side of things," he squeezes you to his chest, your face tucked into the warmth of his neck, "you're going to have a great time, you'll see."

He leans away to take you in, "How are you so wonderful? I feel like I must've saved an orphanage from a fire or something to have gotten you in my life."

Smiling at you as if he could see the universe in your eyes, "it's you and me, right sweetheart?" he questions, a child looking for benediction.

"You and me," you assure, disquiet bubbling softly in the back of your mind.

///

You saw John before he saw you.

He was standing in the foyer, looking at his phone, dressed to the nines.

His snug black suit emphasized the breadth of his shoulders, biceps bulging at the seams. His button down shirt tucked into his pants emphasized his thick waist, the muscles of his core covered by a healthy layer of fat.

His thick gold rings caught the light from above as he swiped through his phone—

Was that your living room on his screen?

The thought was derailed almost as soon as it formed due to John noticing you. He turned with a beaming smile as he locked his phone and slid it into a pocket. Holding his arms open he ushered you into a hug.

The smell of his cologne was earthy, loamy—it curled up in your nose and sunk its tendrils into your brain. How did he always smell so good?

Tensing slightly as his arms closed around you, he did no more than press a firm kiss high on your cheekbone. "You are a vision, my dear," John said in awe, pulling back slightly to take you in from head to toe. "Every time I see you, you end up more stunning. How is that possible?"

You laugh, charmed despite yourself. It's hard to keep up walls when John Price is looking at you like that, "You're too sweet, John," you demure, intending to have a good time tonight, "shall we find our seats?"

///

Several hours later, when the night was all but over while waiting for your car, you don't notice at first that John has taken a step closer. You're too distracted by the chill breeze that has sprung up, attempting to keep your skirt where it belongs.

You realize how close he had gotten when his hand comes up to brush against the skin of your jaw, fingers trailing softly as if dragging against spun gold.

Something precious. Something treasured.

You inhale shakily, unsure of where this was leading but wanting to stop. To take a step back onto stable ground.

"John—" is as far as he lets you get before his mouth covers yours, his other hand coming up to cradle your face in his palms while he devoured your mouth.

Because there was nothing timid or hesitant about this kiss. He claimed with it. His tongue pressing into your mouth at the first sign of weakness—the smallest gasp you couldn't control.

His fingers tightened against the side of your head as he groaned, angled down from above, making sure he was all you could see, all you could hear.

After what felt like years he pulled away, panting like he'd just ran a race, "Fuck me, sweetheart, but you taste even better than I'd hoped."

You stand there, eyes wide as you hold onto his wrists, one hand covering the smooth face of his watch. "You—you kissed me," you murmured, only just loud enough to be heard, "you can't kiss me, John."

He smiled as if you said something cute before pulling you back in. His lips had just brushed yours when you wrenched your head back, desperate to put space between the two of you.

"No, John," shaky but as determined as you could make it. You watch as something rises from the depths behind his eyes. A leviathan observing you, deciding where to bite first, where to grab as he pulls you into his depths, his maw closing around you . . .

Only for it to sink back below the surface, John's blue eyes clearing once more.

"Of course, of course, you're right doll, we shouldn't be doing that here." He continues talking over your spluttered here? as if you never said anything.

"There's your car anyways," the brakes squeak ever so lightly behind you, the thrum of the engine filling the night air, "you be good, sweetheart." A smile as John steps back, holding your door open for you. You climb in quickly, not wanting to spend any longer in his presence than needed.

John looms over the open doorway, forearms braced against the roof, "until next time." He winks at you before shutting the door, a soft double tap on the roof his notice to the driver.

As the car pulled away from the curb your thoughts began to spiral and you started to hyperventilate.

You had to tell Kyle now, you should've told him before but you can't go changing the past.

As soon as you get home you'll sit him down and talk to him. You'll tell him everything.

You ignore your slick thighs and the pressure of your underwear on your throbbing clit.

///

You made the car drive around the block—twice—before you worked up the courage to go inside.

Time to face the music.

"He kissed me, Kyle," you say, bracing for the explosion. You were still reeling from the evening, light tremors shaking your limbs, making your knees feel like they were knocking together.

You know you have to tell him everything, you can't keep something like this quiet. You have to lay it all out and hope he doesn't lose his mind.

Kyle froze. You watch him swallow, noticing his pupils expanding to eclipse the brown of his eyes. You hoped it wasn't in rage.

He quickly gathered himself as youlet out a broken sob and launched yourself at him, tears already streaming down your face.

You cried into his chest, latched onto him in search of strength. He pressed soft shh shh's against the top of your head, cradling you close to him, trying to coax you to breathe.

Eventually you were able to draw in a semi-steady breath without it immediately devolving into a sob and found yourself apologizing to Kyle, "I'm so sorry, I don't know why he kissed me—" breaking off into another wet hiccup.

"None of that now, you're making it a bigger deal than it needs to be," Kyle promised sternly, squeezing you tightly to him, "I know it's not your fault, you did nothing wrong." He soothes you when that causes another round of sobbing to begin.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow," he announces quietly, with a somber air, once the tears began to peter off. "It might cause some . . . friction on the task force but if it's made you this upset then I'll handle it."

Why? Why does John have to be Kyle's boss?

It made everything so complicated.

If it were anyone else, you'd be able to trust Kyle to set them straight, no concerns about consequences. But with John . . . he had control over Kyle's life. Is a kiss worth it? Is anything worth risking Kyle's life?

No.

You'd decided before that you wouldn't risk bad blood between them. You held onto that decision even now, even as things have gotten heavier, more complicated.

You bury deeper into Kyle's chest, arms wrapped as tightly as possible around him, "No, I don't want to cause trouble for you at work."

"Doll, it's no-"

"No, you were right, I'm making it a bigger deal than needed. I was just worried, that's all."

He hunched down to rest his chin on top of your head, "worried about what?" he presses.

"Just that . . . that you're saying it's okay when it's really not. I don't want you to be upset with me." Your eyes started to well up again but you blinked furiously, trying to keep the tears from falling down your cheeks.

He slips an arm free to tilt your chin up, angling your face towards his, eyes locked so you have no way of hiding from him and what he's about to say.

"I'm not upset with you and you did absolutely nothing wrong," holding your gaze, chin firmly grasped. "Do you think I care about the captain kissing you?" —amused, placating almost— "I care because you care, love," he looked down to your lips, pursed slightly from the pressure of his grip.

"Here," quiet, sensual, "I'll show you."

When he pulled you into the kiss it was warm coffee on a cold morning, it was waking up to realize you have an hour left on your alarm, it was the house lights being on when you get home at night.

It was comfort.

You chase after him slightly when he pulls away, wanting to continue. He smiled and gives you another peck. "You taste," he murmurs, lips brushing yours with every word, "utterly delicious."

You pant softly, waiting for him to press into you again. He smiles and gives another soft kiss, "chapstick and cigar smoke taste perfect from your lips."

Story Repository || Main Repository

#kyle garrick x reader #captain john price x reader #cw gaslighting #cw manipulation #only one more chapter folks!#and the last one has smut #proper smut #i’m nervous

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wutheringmights · 2 years

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...Okay you joke about aroace Wind being horribly confused by the neck scene in Engineers journal, but not gonna lie, I'm aroace and that was literally my reaction to it. I was like "...ookay, I see why grabbing someones neck while they're unconscious is a bit much, but why is that being treated like a breaking point, nothing even happened, its just a neck." Had to be filled in by the comments section lmaooo

Huh, I guess it's time to talk about the neck scene.

First off, please note that this post is not tagged with anything fandom for a reason and I have made this post unreblog-able. This is meant for CTB people only, as you guys have the full context of the story and understand what my vision is (even if my execution is questionable).

Got it?

Ok, good.

Back in the chapter's commentary, I said I was going to talk at length about the neck thing and some of my decisions surrounding that plot point. Now is the time to do it, so let's go.

The idea behind this plot point is that I wanted Link to ruin the brotherhood in his pursuit to exert control over the engineer. I had the idea for this scene since the conception of this fic (and I will dig more into that in a moment), but I obviously did not want to risk being misinterpreted.

I tried to think of another way to destroy the brotherhood, but two significant character details severely restricted my options: a) Link could not stop "caring" about the engineer, and b) the engineer's limits for being able to call Link his brother have to be something that somehow surpasses extreme violence.

Having Link toss out the platonic relationship for a failed attempt at something more was the only way I could maintain both character details. Link gets to continue "caring" about the engineer while violating the engineer's clearly defined boundaries.

This also plays a lot into how both of them treat relationships, with Link looking to exert control over others (and himself) while the engineer is searching for relief. This conflict as been building up for many chapters now, so here was the time for it to clash, with the engineer being the decided victor.

Which takes us to why the neck? Well, I wanted some way for Link to express a non-platonic feeling without him needed to touch the bathing suit area. Touching the thigh was too sultry, but the neck was the right mixture of innocuous and creepy.

It's important to note that this is in part influence by my perspective. A while back, a friend of mine started to touch the back of my neck when he developed feelings for me, which is in part of why I view neck-touching as strangely intimate. The neck in general is just a very vulnerable spot that, when you think about it, a lot of people do not like to be touched at. I also just think vampires are hot, ergo neck-touching is kinda sexy.

I was hoping that even if people are not informed by the same experiences as I am, Link's inner musings accompanying the neck touching would help clue the reader into how they should feel about it. In retrospect, I can definitely see how readers can be kinda confused by what's so significant about it.

So, yeah. I played it a little bit dangerously here and really tempted fate in order to achieve this one plot point, especially when I really wanted to make sure that nothing happened in it that could be considered shipping.

To make it explicitly clear:

I am not shipping Warriors and Spirit

The narrative is not shipping Warriors and Spirit

Do not yell at me

"But Frankie, what did you mean that you had this idea since the beginning of this fic?"

Well, okay. Let's talk about deleted content. This is a plotline that never made it to the final product, so please do not consider this canon material the way other deleted ideas have been treated.

I talked a while ago about how even when I decided to commit to the toxic relationship angle for Link and the engineer, I had to pull back on a lot of my ideas in order to make it palatable. One of those ideas was a version of Link and the engineer's relationship that toed that no-shipping line by a lot.

Here's the basics: at the start of the story, the engineer was not going to know that he was bisexual. But after meeting Link, an objectively handsome guy around his age who seemed to care about him a lot, he had his bi-awakening. However, he really struggled with this awakening as he was already in a relationship and felt like he was betraying his Zelda. His goal was to not let anyone know about his crush and to get over it as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Link realized early on why the engineer was both clingy and distant with him and started teasing him for it. The teasing was fairly mean as he just liked to see the engineer get flustered and frustrated without realizing that he was being toyed with. Link was going to be an expert at appearing innocuous whenever he teased the engineer to make the engineer think that it was all in his head.

But as the engineer got more comfortable in his role in the war, his crush went away and he affirmed his appreciation for Link's emotional support and the family unit he built with him by calling him his brother, which Link accepts.

That is, until Link starts cheating on Lana.

Remember that scene where Link got drunk and had to be hauled back to camp by the engineer? Originally, Link pissed the engineer off not only by telling him to cheat on Zelda, but by taking his teasing way too far by propositioning him (as a drunken joke). That's when the engineer realized that he had been toyed with for almost a year now. That would spark a fight between them.

However, the engineer would come to forgive Link, in part because Link convinced him he was actually sorry, and because the engineer did not want to disrupt the family dynamic he had built with Link.

From there, the relationship would continue as it has been in the final story. But with the added context and relationship history, Link's neck touching scene would be an even bigger "fuck you" to the engineer.

This entire subplot was based on the idea of the homoerotic nature of a soldier's bond. I wrote a thesis part about this in college, but basically wars can offer a way for men to develop close bonds with other men that could not exist in a heteronormative society.

This subplot took a very literal interpretation of it, but even then, it's obvious by the summary that even with a confirmed crush involved, this was not meant to be shipping content. This was meant to offer another look at Link's paradoxical cruelty and love.

But even I can admit that it skirts way too close to the idea of shipping. That's why I took it out of the final story. I just did not have the energy back then to argue with people about what counted as shipping.

Actually, I still do not have this energy, which begs the question as to why I would go include any form of this plot.

See here, I am an idiot.

#this is why ctb cannot reach broad appeal: i do not want to deal with the anons the neck thing could inspire #like it's very firmly not shipping and i know it's not shipping because i had to scale back on my favorite theme of the homoeroticism of wa #*wars #me rambling #lu ctb #forbidden content #i have a policy of not putting things online i am not prepared to argue an annoying anon about and this post technically violates that #but we will cross that bridge when we get there

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