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millie-multifics · 11 months ago

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Proverbial Dark Clouds

Major John Egan x Reader

A woman finally snuck her way into the heart of eligible bachelor Major John Egan, he is all too soon reminded of why he fended off love for so long.

Warnings: Contains themes of war; injuries and death. Brief mentions of period accurate clothing. Angst. Episode 3 spoilers.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Thank you all for the support and feedback xoxo

Masterlist Part 2 Part 3

x x x

“Bluebirds, singing a song,

Nothing but bluebirds, all day long.”

Buck hid his laughter behind his hand, more amused with his friends antics more than he was willing to let on. His attention was drawn to you as you offered him a ginger beer, taking the vacated seat to his left.

“I thought I could hear his… otherworldly singing from the bar.”

“You know John, any opportunity to sing and he’ll take it.” The Major kept his eyes on the band but leaned a little closer to you, “He’s up there right now just for you, he was concerned there might be a proverbial dark cloud hanging over your head.”

You took a long sip of your beer, thinking over what Gale was telling you. The last thing you wanted was John to be worrying about you, he had enough men under his command day to day that he had to worry about.

“It was just a tough day in the infirmary is all. Lots of men coming in with preventable frost bite or shrapnel wounds that escalated because they weren’t properly cared for right away.” You explained, sending your singing admirer a smile as you caught his eyes from across the room.

“Blue days, all of them gone.

Nothing but blue skies from now on!”

You whistled in appreciation as John concluded the song, stumbling over to you as elation filled his body. He was glad to see you enjoying his performance, singing louder and even a little more off key just to keep the smile on your red painted lips for a moment longer.

“I think you truly outdid yourself this time, Major.” You teased, standing to your full height as he approached with a little extra pep in his step.

“The only thing missing was my beautiful dance partner.” He winked, gently grabbing hold of your hands to twirl you onto the floor. He gently squeezed your hand before resting his other on your lower back, leading you in a gentle sway to the band. You danced until the fatigue you had been pushing through took over, lowering your head to rest against his chest.

“Do you think Curtis is okay?” Your fingers fiddled with the hair along the nape of your lovers neck. You hadn’t known the men long but you could call many of them your friends so the unknown whereabouts of his crew had you on edge. They had lost 30 men already on that mission, it would be a tragedy to add 10 more names onto the list.

John rubbed soothing circle into your back, “Curt is a big boy, I bet he is terrorizing some poor Scottish town as we speak.”

You nodded in agreement, a yawn escaping you before you could suppress it.

“Time to turn in, sweetheart?” John asked, softly, afraid to break the bubble you found yourselves in. You nodded gently, your eyes fluttering shut as a warm finger brushed along your cheek. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back.”

John briefly stopped at the table Buck was seated at with a few other officers to explain his absence in case anyone went looking for him.

“Any word on Curt?”

Gale shook his head, having heard nothing new about their friend who was forced to land in Scotland after his plane was too damaged to make it back to their base.

“Goodnight, Gale.” You sent the man an appreciative smile for giving you insight on John during your earlier conversation.

You walked with your arm wrapped around John’s all the way back to the nurse’s billet, the sounds of gravel crunching under his heavy boots and chatter of passerby’s filling the comfortable silence. Despite your tiredness, neither of you wanted to part when you reached the cabin, staying wrapped in his arms until your body felt too heavy for your feet. He dismissed your apologies of ending the night earlier than planned with assurance that Buck was awaiting his arrival back at the hall for another beer. You shared a tender kiss, using the soft pad of your thumb to wipe away the smudge of red lipstick you left on his mouth.

“Goodnight, Major. Sweet Dreams.

“My dreams are always sweet when they are filled with you, sweetheart.”

Your very own dreams of the charming Major were interrupted by an air raid siren and panicked nurses, rushing to get out of bed and find shelter in the dark of the night.

John paused his movements when he spotted a different figure amongst his men walking through the fog, lamb coat and life vest adorned, he could recognize your beauty even if you were covered head to toe in thick mud.

“There is no way in hell I will be letting you on a plane today, sweetheart.” His hands rested on his hips as he stared down at you.

“Your company C.O will have words of disagreement with that, Major Egan.”

Major Egan.

You had never really called him that before except when teasing, it was just how you were with each other and hearing it now being paired with the most serious tone you could muster irked him. Clevens and Biddick had spotted the standoff as their crews finished their last minute preparations, both slowly approaching the pair to assess the situation on their hands.

“I am your in air medical aid for this mission, and I will be getting on a plane today, whether you approve it or not.”

This really was not the direction Gale seen his suggestion heading in, he had suggested that maybe the men needed a little more medical training, a refresher in case something were to happen in the air to release the infirmary of a little pressure- he hadn’t expected them to put a nurse in the air with them. The nurse would be in one of the planes, available to anyone with questions via the radio, it seemed impractical as their channels were needed for communication but his apprehension fell on deaf ears. They would do a trial run, if it failed then it failed and that would be that, but if it had the desired results then it would be instrumental.

They had asked for a volunteer, you had raised your hand before the words had finished falling from the C.O’s mouth.

“Fine, I don’t want to be the reason this mission gets delayed. You’re with me, let’s go.”

You shook your head, “I’ll go with Lieutenant

Biddick.”

“Absolutely not-“

Curtis grinned despite also disagreeing with the decision of a nurse being on board, but they wouldn’t be able to fight it right now. “I’m honoured.”

John sent his friend a harsh glare, expecting him to have taken his side rather then encourage her ludicrous behaviour.

“I get it,” Curt teased, “You’re in love with her and won’t be able to think straight without her on your plane.”

You couldn’t miss the way John tensed at Curt’s words. Love, he had never really been in love before but he was pretty sure that is what he was feeling for you, not that he had ever expressed it to you out loud before.

“Curt, it’s not that you’re a bad pilot,” Gale spoke up as the tension hung heavy in the air, “You just don’t have the best of luck in the air.”

“Exactly why I will be in that plane.”

“Alright everyone, let’s go.”

John ignored the hollers of the men as he pulled your body flush against his, his hand snaking firmly to the back of your head to bring your lips together into the most passion filled kiss you had ever experienced.

“Stay safe,” He muttered when he finally released you from his grip, his eyes showing much more emotion than he was willing to say. “And keep your damn helmet on.”

“I love you, too.”

It had been decided that the best place for you to be was at the front of the plane, alternating between standing and crouching behind the pilots seats. The air was peaceful through the clouds above the farm fields of England, but of course things would not stay that way. You followed John’s order of keeping on your helmet, knowing a head wound would most likely be fatal and defeat your purpose of being on the plane in the first place.

You did your best to remain composed as the real fight had started. Enemy planes doing their best to pick off your crew one by one. Your medical assistance not yet needed as every plane hit burst into a fiery ball, you could only watch and hope the men had time to jump beforehand.

You fell into the cold, metal wall of the plane as it was hit with enemy fire, getting to your feet just in time to spot the oncoming plane between the seats. Glass shards and bullets exploded into the cabin as you dropped to its floor, your arms instinctively moving to hold your helmet on and shield your face.

“No! Dickie! Dickie! No!”

You were back on your feet as soon as the bullets stopped, squeezing past Curt to get a better look at the injuries on his co-pilot. There was blood spatter along Dickie’s face and neck, and he was either dead or knocked out but the angle he was laying made it hard to check.

“Any injuries, Curtis?”

“I’m in one piece!” He yelled back over the roar of the plane engine, yanking Dickie’s slumped body off the control panel as he struggled to keep the plane up. “Fuck! She’s not gonna make it, we gotta get out. Pilot to crew: Bail out! Bail Out!”

You were crouched in front of Dickie, your eyes closed to keep focused as you waited to feel a pulse beat under your fingertips. “He’s alive!”

Another jolt under your fingertips told you that he was also now awake. His head swayed from side to side, disoriented from his injuries.

Curt contemplated his very limited options, glancing over at his injured comrade. “Dickie, stay with me. I’m gonna get you down safely, you hear me?”

“You can land this thing?”

“Yes, I can. If we drop him, he’ll die!”

“You have a death wish, Lieutenant?” You questioned, reaching into the pocket you had stuffed with clean bandages before the flight. Dickie would die either way if he continued to bleed out.

“You gotta bail too!” He insisted, “Bucky was right, you should have gone with him!”

Bucky. Your very own handsome Major John Egan. You were sure when you had climbed into this plane that he was the one true love of your life. You silently sent a prayer to any God that would hear you; please allow him to grace you with his presence again, to feel the strength of his arms and the warmth of his heart.

But what is young love without tragedy?

“I’m not leaving you and Dickie, Curt!”

“I’m getting us down Dick, I have control. Right over there ya see it? That long field, huh.”

You braced yourself behind Curt’s seat, head covered and body tucked tight as the plane skimmed the top of the trees.

“Come on Curt, fly like an angel, huh?”

#major john egan #bucky egan #mota spoilers #mota fanfic #mota #masters of the air #major John Bucky Egan #callum turner #gale cleven #curtis biddick #John Egan x reader #Major john egan x reader

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blixabargelds · 4 months ago

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12. things you said when you thought I was asleep

pls pls pls

did you think i was going to be sad with this one 😈

- things you said when you thought i was asleep

They agreed upon it days ago. John drunk as all hell, a dead weight at Gale’s side and listing tiredly. He’d turned to Gale and said, wanna fuck you every waking moment. Gale had said, your waking moments are rapidly depleting. John had said, doesn’t matter to me. Gale, dropping to his knees to untie his boots for him, had said, to me neither.

The next morning, pitifully wrung out and wincing into his coffee, John had looked up at Gale open-mouthed, as Gale reiterated, “It don’t gotta be a waking moment.”

It’s not John’s fault that he’s a light sleeper.

Gale wakes groggily, the air still cool and the sky still pitch black as it leaks in through their window, John’s long fingers opening him up from behind. Gale’s breath catches. He’s face down in their bed, and inhales deep and slow the flavour of the cotton sheets, shivering as he tries to regulate the movements of his body. John had wanted this. Gale’s happy to give him the illusion. He keeps himself lax as possible, eyes shut, as John draws out two fingers, then slides three back in. He’s been half-successful; the stretch tingles in the base of Gale’s spine, but does not hurt. He notices, then, that the nape of his neck is damp against his sleep shirt’s collar, as if John’s been lapping at him. Gale is hard between his stomach and the bed. There’s a stickiness already at the tip of his cock, and the idea that John’s been at this for some time makes it suddenly more challenging to stay still.

John hooks his fingers inside him, and Gale swallows around a whine. It’s a poor method on John’s part- if he wanted Gale asleep then he shouldn’t delve like that, soft pads of his fingertips pressing and seeking, slick with Vaseline and scissoring a little. Gale breathes faster, tries to hold back the way his hips want to stutter, as John moans quietly behind him at nothing but his own fingers fucking into Gale.

“Christ, I’d have you like this every night,” he mutters. Gale bites his lip. “God, every morning, too. I just might.”

John pulls his fingers out, and it takes all Gale’s strength not to back up to keep them inside. The silence in the room feels enormous in his head, as John shuffles around in the dark. Gale’s half scared his heartbeat might give him away. His lungs ache with the effort of expanding subtly whilst pressed flat onto the mattress, and then John’s pressing him down further, his wetted cock pushing inside his hole with more restraint than Gale’s ever felt from him.

“Oh, fuck,” John hisses. “Buck, sweetheart.”

There’s drool escaping Gale’s lips from around his clamped teeth. He wonders if there’s any range of movement that won’t give him away, any small shift of his ass back onto John’s cock that won’t alert him to Gale’s wakefulness. He tests a fraction. It’s either well timed with John’s slow thrusts, or John is too gone to notice, because as Gale grinds back against him as minutely as he can John falls further forward, hitting the spot in Gale that would normally have him groaning loud.

“I love you pliant,” John whispers. Gale makes a punched-out noise that could be a dreaming grunt. “Love the way you just take me without tryin’.”

John pulls halfway out. It’s dizzyingly slow, so as not to wake Gale, who’s wide awake and fast losing his grip on pretence. He fucks himself down onto the bed, he can’t help it. The friction against his cock makes him sigh, makes him want to do it again, but he’s already jerking too much to be convincing much longer. John thrusts back into him deep, and Gale almost chokes.

“So tight even like this,” John keeps talking, filthy little whispers for nobody’s benefit but his own, every one making Gale’s eyes roll behind his eyelids.

He starts fucking him in earnest; not his usual, fast rutting, but clipped grinding thrusts, hardly any drag of his cock pulling in and out of Gale’s body, just burrowing himself further in. Gale’s mouth is open against the sheets now, and he thinks he might be wheezing. The bed begins to bounce with John’s movements, allowing Gale a touch more plausibility with which to fuck back onto John. He rolls his hips down, breath coming faster and harder as his cock twitches where it’s trapped, John splaying a big hand over Gale’s spine and pressing him down more. Gale’s aching cock rubs desperately against the sheets. He lets slip a decidedly conscious moan.

“Buck?” John says.

“Don’t stop,” Gale grits out, voice thick, “Bucky-”

“Fuck,” John says. He grabs Gale’s hips, pulls him back by them hard, and Gale finally releases a crushed, noisy breath as his chest leaves the bed. “How long-”

“John,” Gale gasps.

“Okay,” John says. “Alright,” as he reaches around to take Gale’s dripping cock in hand.

It only takes two tugs for Gale to come. He groans into the crook of his elbow, shuddering as John’s fingers slide over the head of his cock, gathering the hot rush of cum and slicking it back up his sensitive length, driving roughly into him until he shouts out his own release.

Gale collapses under their shared weight. John pulls out after a long, panting moment, and yawns.

“You tired or somethin’, Bucky?” Gale says.

“Were you leading me on that whole time?” says John. Gale says nothing, but shakes his head. There’s a small amount of light coming through the window now. In the relief of it, John laughs. “You were. You son of a bitch.”

“Says who?” Gale smiles. “Was just gonna tell you ’bout my nice dream.”

#thank u <33 #masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #frankiefic

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anachilles · 6 months ago

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Hi! Love your writing 🥰

Requesting a BuckxBucky Drabble with the prompt for “SCAR” from the list you shared if you have the time! ❤️

[ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 ] ― sender traces a scar on receiver’s body

hi!!! thank you so much!!! 🫶✨

Half-dressed, Gale appears in the doorway between their bedroom and the en suite, his expression caught somewhere between sheepishness and wearied resignation.

He looked so endearing in the mornings, though, Bucky had always thought so. All rumpled blond hair, heavy eyelids still clinging on with a white-knuckled grip to sleep despite forcing himself awake, and rosy cheeks that could’ve rendered him almost childlike if not for the fair, freshly grown-in stubble accompanying the colour.

Bucky knew all too well he was lucky that he got to see this version of the impeccably well-groomed, notoriously composed Major. He did the world and everyone in it a favour sharing Gale with them, but this version was just for him and he held the image close to his chest for safe keeping, tucking it firmly into his inner breast pocket.

Now, irritation etched into the tense line of his mouth, Gale glances down at where his wrist up to his elbow is plastered up, hoisted up and held in position by a fabric sling. Bucky follows his gaze, swallowing hard past the concern that’s urged forth. Gale says nothing but the wordlessness is heavy, expectant.

“You need some help?” Bucky says quickly, half-imploring but trying not to sound too imploring or overbearing about it, helping him out and extrapolating from the silence. It’s been like this ever since it’d happened, Gale needing a bit of help but not wanting to admit it, and Bucky physically incapable of resisting the urge to help him anyway.

To think that this was a man who’d gone to war, flew bomber planes over Nazi-occupied Europe in broad daylight, been shot down and had to bail out of one of said planes and hurtle to earth before spending the next 18 months in a prison camp, escaping from all of that with barely a significant physical injury to show for it.

To then break his wrist tripping over a pair of shoes in their own goddamn house.

“Please?” He gives in, shirking Bucky’s attention, quickly turning back into the bathroom before Bucky can even get to his feet.

Anytime. Anything. Always.

Gale’s shaving kit’s already laid out on the counter when he follows him in. The man himself is futilely fiddling about with a can of shaving cream, which Bucky slips from his hand with an affectionate “get”, and then, “I’ve got you” when he prompts Gale down onto the edge of the bath tub with a probing hand on the shoulder.

He quickly sets to work, lathering up the cream before swiping it gently across the other man’s face. His hands shake sometimes, ever since the war, but today, for this, they remain gratefully steady with the delicate task at hand.

Even when it means driving a blade across the two twin shrapnel scars symmetrically etched into each of Gale’s cheeks. A permanent remnant of the war, a lifelong brand dealt by the Nazis that he’d be forced to wear every single day. One that he couldn’t run away from so long as he had mirrors he had to look in, or panes of glass to catch his reflection in anyway even if he tried to avoid the former.

One that Bucky will spend the rest of his life endeavouring to recontextualise, or at the very least disarm, through pure, unadulterated, unrelenting love. Frequent kisses, reverent thumb strokes when he held Gale’s beautiful fucking head in his hands, and affectionate bumps with the tip of his nose even if only to get the other man’s attention.

They all had their scars, everyone who went and sacrificed whole parts of themselves (and often, for so many, so much more) for a cause much bigger than themselves or anything they could’ve imagined. The rest of them could hide them, cover them up and at least be able to pretend for a while they weren’t there.

Gale had to bear his.

“Looks good to me…” Finishing up the shave, Bucky takes a towel and starts wiping away the remaining suds and wetness, the fabric pausing for a half a second over the jagged white line on the right side.

“Thank you,” He sounds less tense, but tired; like he needs the coffee he clearly hasn’t had yet. The words ghost across Bucky’s wrist, Gale’s breath featherlight on his skin, and he’s suddenly stricken with gratitude in the intimacy of the gesture; of the moment.

Bending down, he retakes Gale’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, replacing the towel with his lips and pressing them into the mottled flesh.

A sign that he’s still here.

That he made it out.

That he’s alive and has the scars to prove it.

#clegan #buck x bucky #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #masters of the air #the brainrot for them has had such a hold over me all day today #just a quick lil thing - hope that’s okay!!!

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galebrainrot2024 · 20 days ago

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The Afternoon

A continuation of Night One | Day One a Gale point of view fic. We're going to ride this train as long as it will let me. I really enjoy writing Gale and grateful to have you along for the ride!

Master List | Ao3

“You led them straight to us!” The tension was palpable between the Tiefling and Man as they crossed the precipice of the enclave. Gale knew Goblins were not to be trifled with as they came in swarms, like ants, relentless in droves but singularly relatively harmless.

The words that were spat between the two were lost on Gale because his attention was on the deep-seated hunger shaking his core. He needed a moment of privacy to absorb the weave from a necklace he managed to get his hands on.

Although he worried whether Astarion would share his findings, he was focused on quieting the orb. There was enough at stake and the last thing he wanted was to cause any trouble. Or, worse, be expelled from the group.

He was never particularly good at keeping company for extended periods of time, instead preferring one-off conversations to deep friendships. Sometimes he wondered if that was due to him. Even as a child it was difficult for him to keep friends, the relationships devolving over time due to jealousy, teasing, or the like. Gale was a bit thick-headed at times and he recognized his ego left something to be desired.

But he had been Mystra’s chosen, after all, perhaps that ego was well founded.

Had been, another part of himself reminded him, as if he forgot. Gale couldn’t help himself, though, as you pulled him from reverie. The tension all but recoiled, the air less threatening. His brows rose, curiosity piqued by your ability to calm the situation without so much as an incantation.

This happened more than a few times throughout the day. Your soft heart made his own ache as you handled each situation with finesse, empathy, and your focus seemed centered on the aid of the other.

Gale rather admired that, and he wondered whether you would cast him out once he needed to reveal his secret.

It did not escape him that some of your companions were less than enthused by your bleeding heart. As he lolly-gagged, Shadowheart stopped a moment to rifle through her pack. “At this rate we’ll transform before we can find a healer,” she muttered under her breath. “I mean honestly, why do they seem intent on helping every straggler we come across?”

Gale shrugged, waiting for her before moving forward with the rest. “I think it’s admirable.” Gale noted the surprise on her face.

“I thought wizards were only interested in power,” she scoffed.

“An old wives tale, I assure you,” though that wasn’t necessarily true. Gale wouldn’t be in part of this predicament if it weren’t for his greed for more.

A moment that was seared into Gale’s memory, though, was when you confronted Kagha. A child was in her midst, she threatening to jail her - or worse. He felt his teeth grind together in disbelief but before he could chime in, you stood up for the girl without hesitation.

Gale studied your resolve, how your nostrils flared, how your cheeks brushed with crimson more delicate than a rose’s petal. He felt the same stirring within his gut, a stir he hadn’t felt in some time. Not even with Mystra.

The last time he felt this way he was out for a drink at the Yawning Portal, chatting up people at the bar when he kept catching the eye of another patron. You can imagine where the night led.

Gale turned the memory over, sad almost that the young, confident man he once was had been replaced by this shell of a person. Although his hubris was still comparable, the folly of youth was long gone. No longer did he think he could woo anyone with simple cantrips and honeyed-words. He was out of practice.

Still, he noticed how the light of the candles danced across your face, and how a subtle smell of dirt and fire and something he couldn’t place caught him each time you moved. He caught himself inhaling deeply each time he did.

Gale watched Arabella sprint up the stairs and out of the din, admiring your spirit.

“Quit gawking,” Astarion chuckled, poking him in the rib. “Someone is obviously pent up.”

Gale stiffened, brushing off his robes. “I have no idea what you’re implying, Astarion. I do rather enjoy our ventures in silence, don’t you?”

Astation frowned and tutted away.

You turned to Gale, lightly touching his shoulder, “Can you believe that monster was about to imprison a child?” He froze, looking down where your fingertips met his shoulder, swallowing hard. He was shocked by the sensations it sent through him, the warmth, the craving for more.

By the gods, he was touch starved. He felt ridiculous, getting so worked up like this when it was no time to be getting worked up about. Not like that, anyway.

“Monstrous is one word for it,” he grimaced, ignoring the quickening of his pulse. “What is youth but a time to be forgiven for one’s transgressions?”

You smiled, a glint of deviousness in your eyes. He was taken back by the depth of them, how full of life and emotion they were. “Why do I have a feeling you had a few… youthful transgressions to be forgiven?”

He felt his lips curl and he shrugged playfully, “Hard to say one way or another. I’m impressed by your remarkable guile and courage, though, standing up for the girl in the state we’re in,” he tapped on his head, “I’m not sure how well I could fight, considering our most recent tenants.”

Your attention was pulled, though, by Shadowheart who cowered in the corner, away from the wolf in the room. Gale fingered the amulet in his pocket, turning around and absorbed the weave as quietly as he could manage.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 gale #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 brainrot #gale #gale bg3 #gale x you #gale x reader #bg3 gale fanfiction #gale pining #gale angst #gale fanfiction

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simpcityy · 9 months ago

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My Little Spawn Pt.7 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all. MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU AREN'T IN ACT 2 YET.

Author Notes: (PLEASE READ) I hope all of you are excited for this chapter, I know some of you have been waiting for an update. I will be updating more chapters less, I got a new job, so I've been trying to focus on that. Thank you for understanding my lack being online. So, these next chapters will just be mostly fillers to move faster on act 3 so we can get some father battle. So, this chapter and the next might feel empty or rushed because we are on part 7 and we haven't reach act 3 and Cazador hasn't made an appearance yet. I want this series to have at least a maximum of 12 chapters. As always, Thank you so much for the support! I should be updating the master list with all the links of each chapter soon. Remember to Reblog and like if you enjoy this series. I am happy to start a taglist for this series since this week I will be working on a story well two.

Every time they settle down for the night, Astarion would be pacing and complaining how they are wasting time, you could be in danger. “Astation, we need rest for any enemies up ahead” Gale began only to be yelled at by the pale elf. Everyone was on edge with Astarions foul mood keeping their distance from him, even Tav. Tav mostly kept to themselves as Astarion only glared the meanest eyes at them, spewing over and over it’s their fault. “We could've found them already but here you are all lazing around.” He crossed his arms sitting at his tent. “Alright fangs, we get it.” Karlach looks over, carrying over wood on her shoulder. “You are always welcome to go on your own and find them. We are all worried for the little soldier, but we need to be smart about this and not endanger them more” Astarion only looks away and sits alone in his tent missing his little spawn.

You were running trying to avoid the shadow curse taking over you. You somehow escaped that cell, but it cost the life of a guard. All you could see is their life drained. You felt so bad but yet they tasted so sweet. You vowed yourself not a single word of this to Astarion. You were scared he was going to get mad. You ran over to a fire staying close to it whimpering. Hearing footsteps near you, you quickly crouch behind a large rock and peaked. Hoping whatever is coming near is friendly. “Halt! Who goes there!” A feminine voice calls out. “Come out or arrows would be fired” They threaten. You slowly walk out of your hiding spot. Gasps were heard, “It’s just a child” the woman walks over and smiles “Are you okay? We won’t hurt you.” She kneels down holding a touch. “I escaped from a big castle…” You whisper, staying close to your rock. “Castle? Moonrise towers.” One of them whispers to their leader. “Come, we have a safe place called the Last Light Inn, you will be safe there. There are children of your age as well. “She gently took your hand and kept you close. “Harpers lets go before the Shadow Curse gets us.” She commands and walks down a path.

You felt lost inside this inn. You watched as those same Tieflings from the Grove were playing a quiet game. You slowly walked over “Hi…can I play?” You placed your arms behind your back. They only look at you before going back to their game. You turned around ready to walk back to the chair you were in, but a hand grabbed your arm and spun you back to the Tiefling children. “Hey now, is that how we treat a hero? If I remember correctly, they helped us out back at the Grove.” Mol grins looking back at the children “So I reckon you reconsider their offer.” Once they see Mol, they quickly move over offering you a spot. You smile “Thank you!” You quickly sat on the open spot playing with them.

Hours passed and you met many people, you caught up with Alfira but you noticed she seemed sad. You also noticed there are a couple of Tieflings missing but didn’t question it. You met Jaheira and Isobel along with many more. You stayed by Mol’s side befriending her. You munched on a piece of bread given by Jaheria when you looked overhearing a commotion. “Stay inside, could be dangerous” Alfira told you two before walking outside. You didn’t mind as you kept eating but hearing a voice you’ve missed so much; you dropped your bread.

“Astarion!” You yelled running outside tearing up. “Stay back little one!” Jaheira warns as you go outside and slip past her. Astarion looks overhearing his name and swore his dead heart had a heartbeat again when he saw you alive and unharmed. He picked you up quickly and held you close, placing your head into the neck of his shoulder “Oh thank god your alive little spawn” He didn’t care who saw him, he was feeling many emotions. He kissed the top of your head. Mol walks over “They are the ones who saved us, and that is their daddy.” Astarion looks up hearing Mol “I’m just a caretaker” He rolls his eyes. The group can see their spawn companion is back to his normal self.

After the group minus you, take some herbal medicine that makes you say the truth, you stay near Astarions side. “What have you been up to little Spawn.” He brushes your hair as you sit between the space of his legs. “I was locked up in a castle when I woke up. There were these people and they called me beautiful artwork.” You look up at him. He frowns “So they know about your situation. “He sighs “They aren’t wrong, your kind is an artwork to those who have bad intentions. Usually…you would…” He tries to find the right words “Not be breathing, not even a second you were born. Which explains why there isn’t a high population of little spawns like you, well Dhampirs. “He explains though he knew you weren’t paying attention as you were busy watching a weed flow by the wind. He chuckles to himself as you were easy to get distracted. You got up from your spot and walked over greeting everyone you missed, getting hugs from left to right. You even got a pat on the head from Lae’zel. Nighttime came and you pouted at Astarion “But I don’t want to!” You wiggle around in his arms. You didn’t want to stay in the camp again. “It’s for your own good, it’s too dangerous out there.” He sighs “Tav say something” He motions his eyes over to you. Tav only looks over before looking over to you, “(Y/N) it’s safer for you to stay at camp. You don’t want Astarion to be worried sick again.” They pat your head. You only pout before huffing “Fine” You finally relax in his arm. “And you are never going to leave my side anymore” Astarion placed you over his hip walking to his tent.

Over the couple of days, you were learning many things about nature thanks to Halsin. You giggle as he shifts out of his bear form. “Again! Again!” You cheered. “Alright alright.” He chuckles trying his best to keep up with your energy. More days went by, and a new temporary companion joined the group, Arabella. It took some time for you to warm up and approach her after Astarion told you to not question anything about her parents. You stood near her and kept silent before she broke the silence “You can talk to me you know; I am nothing like those children from the Grove.” She looks at you. Sitting down next to her, you look at the ground before looking up to Gale who was at his tent giving you the thumbs up. You took a deep breath and looked at Arabella. “Would you like to be my friend?” The Tiefling smiles “Of course. I think I need a friend at this point in my life. “

Hours rolled by and Astarion sighs walking back to the camp after successfully being able to get inside moonrise towers and become part of the group for their plan. “You know I can’t wait for when we stab them in the back” He smirks before looking over to see you and Arabella playing catch with Scratch. Scratch gets the ball whenever you fail to catch it and rolls away from you. “Were they able to play with other children over at Cazador’s palace?” Tav walks over to Astarion. The pale elf lets out a small smile seeing how happy you look. “No…Cazador never lets them out of the palace, never thought of it since I thought they were a spawn. Sunlight is our number one enemy after all, but I think this…this is making them feel more connected to their…human side you can say…I haven’t heard them complain about blood hunger. Maybe this distracts them” He hums before walking over “(Y/N), time a bath and do not fight me on this” He began before seeing you dart off. “Come back here!” He yells Tav only chuckles crossing their arms and lean back a bit watching you slip past Astarions legs and escape every time from his grasp. Everything was slowly going back to where it should, minus the tadpole and mind flayer situation.

#dadstarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #dadstarion x child reader #astarion x child reader #My Little Spawn #baldurs gate fic #fatherfigure astarion

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 3 months ago

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hiiii! could you recommend me some catching fire AU/married in cf fics? thank you soooooo much <3

Hello Anon!

Below is a list of MarriedinCF!Fics. Hopefully some of these are new to you! I've added this topic to future masterlists and have a few more ready to post! Happy reading!

74th Hunger Games Challenge: We Always Were-Jamie Sommers (ff) Summary: A/U This is based on a challenge in which K&P enter the 74th Games as a couple. This is based on the book, the movie but mostly my imagination. Everyone's POV. Find out how Peeta gets with the Careers. What Gale thinks about K&P's relationship... Sequels are Catching Fire: Rekindling and Mockingjay: Broken Wings A.M.-Lenai17 (ff) Summary: Snow is convinced during the Victory Tour that Peeta and Katniss are genuinely in love. What happens when Snow asks just a few more things of them? AU A Change of Heart-MooseDeEvita (ff) Summary: AU. Instead of the Quarter Quell, Snow forces Katniss to marry Peeta as entertainment for the Capitol. This turns out to be just what Peeta and Katniss needed to finally act on their own feelings for each other. Afterglow-taliiaa (ao3) Summary: Katniss feels she owes Peeta an apology after she realizes how her sudden suggestion of marriage hurt him. Always-dandilyon (ff) Summary: Peeta and Katniss are forced to get married a little earlier than they anticipated. How will it effect the Quarter Quell, and eventually, the rebellion? A Marriage Between Victors-optimus_pam (ao3) or (ff) Summary: What if the Victory Tour ended with a wedding rather than an engagement? A story that explores what would have happened if Peeta and Katniss had been forced to marry. How does this change affect their relationship? District 12? The rebellion? As Real As Real Can Be-albinokittens300 (ao3) Summary: During the nights on the train, Katniss comes to accept how deeply she feels about Peeta. And when they have to be married for the Capitol, she decides to do something for them. Even if it's only them who knows. Barren Prologue-silverdoe91 (ff) Summary: AU of Catching Fire where Katniss & Peeta actually get married and she receives a second visit from President Snow before the Quarter Quell. Behind the Veil, Beneath the Shroud-ghtlovesthg (ao3) Summary: She's an escape artist and he's a master of disguise. Having convinced Snow and Panem during the Victory Tour, the star-crossed lovers find themselves the darlings of the Capitol. And all that entails. AU following the Victory Tour.

Blazing Free-LemonLuvGirl (ao3) Summary: Catching Fire reimagined. Canon Divergent. Katniss Everdeen & her co-victor Peeta Mellark have spent every waking moment since they won the 74th Hunger Games trying to appease President Snow and keep their loved ones safe from the Capitol's wrath. They have played their parts to perfection as star-crossed lovers, and mentors. But when Snow puts a new inconceivably sadistic demand on Peeta and Katniss, they have to decide whether they will continue to used as pieces in the game, or whether to change the rules all together. (Mature themes, mentions of depression, allusions to non-consentual sex, underage drinking and drug use, violence, cursing, Everlark smut, some Everthorne drama, minor character death, etc.)

If anyone knows of a fic like this, please reblog, reply, or send an ask with fics fitting this idea and I’ll add it to future masterlists!

As always, if you have any questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to shoot me an ask!

#marriedincf #marriedincf!au #cf au #cf!au #thg fanfiction #thg #everlark fanfiction #everlark #thglibrary masterlist #anon ask

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jakes3resin · 9 months ago

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Can you tell us about your other fics if you already have an established plot?

I'd love to! So there's quite a number of them I won't lie. I tend to get inspired by the randomest things. These are all in various stages of plotted out and written.

A/B/O fic (technically turning into 3 fics) that follows Bucky & Buck through the war, described below.

Courting Arc (top of my list to finish writing) - Bucky POV as he is anonymously courted during his time in the states just before he gets sent over to England (there's a post I'm basing my writing around I'll link it in a moment) <- published

England Arc- a quick look into their lives as they run missions with A/B/O elements (this will be pretty short I think) mostly snippets of scenes from the show just now with Omega Bucky and Alpha Buck <- published

Stalag Arc - Omega Bucky and his awful time in Germany. Here is where we see what being an Omega in war is really like in my omegaverse. Bucky is the highest ranked Omega in the camp meaning he's technically 'in charge' of keeping those Omegas in line. He's tested by his heats, keeping his pack together, and finally by a German order that could tear Buck and Bucky apart. This is a big fic for me to prepare for, and I'm building up to it by writing the Courting Arc first <- next on deck

Biker Gale AU (my beloved, genuinely obsessed with this AU) - this was inspired by one of hogans-heroes AUs. So, Gale leads an outlaw-esque biker club, and Bucky used to be his right hand (and lover) except one day out of the blue he just disappeared. Gale does everything he can to find Bucky, but there's no trail to follow, no clues to put together, nothing. Fast forward about two years, Bucky arrives on Curt's doorstep holding a small baby with the brightest blue eyes and prettiest blonde curls and begs Curt to watch his baby for 5 days. 5 days later Bucky comes back in town bruised to all hell with the FBI on his tail with their own nefarious reasons for tracking Bucky down. Bucky has nowhere else to turn especially since when he comes back to Curt's he finds Gale holding his little baby. (This could be A/B/O I haven't decided, but it's definitely at least mpreg)

Amnesia fic - this is based off of a post I made about the effects of Bucky getting hit over the head like 3 times in the span of two days, its... somewhere (edit: here). But its about Bucky waking up with no memory of who he is just before he gets interrogated by the Germans and sent to Stalag Luft III where he meets a man that his heart rejoices at seeing but his mind doesn't recognize. Buck of course has to deal with the love of his life forgetting him.

Magic AU - Bucky is a Scamander and its now everyone's problem to deal with it. The tag to find all of my ramblings for it is magic au (not that Tumblr's tag system works), and @getinthefuckingjaeger just wrote the best ever fic of Bucky and Theseus so go read that.

I've also got a few paragraphs written of Foster Kid Bucky somewhere but that might never see the light of day (that's also from a hogans-heroes AU) where Bucky is a jaded teenager just trying to make it to 18 to get out of his shitty foster placement when in comes Buck whose mother finally divorced his dad, got custody of her kids, and moved to her hometown to escape. It's about a Bright Buck meeting a Jaded Bucky (a flip on their usual dynamics)

Blonde Bucky AU - I wrote a blurb on the Twin Cleven AU post, and the idea of Bucky bleaching his hair on a drunken night out with Curt and Bubbles has haunted me since <- published as well

There might be more? But these are the only ones I can remember off the top of my head right now that are plotted out beyond oh that'd be a good fic. I have a lot of time spent sitting and waiting right now, so I have the ability to write a multitude of fics. I'm happy to talk about any of these fics if you want to come into my inbox or my messages.

#asks #my writing #buck x bucky #clegan

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lanawinterscigarettes · 3 months ago

Note

For kinktober, can you do Gale weathers pulling male reader’s hair?

absolutely I can! thanks for sending something in <3

Kinktober 2024 Day 7: Gale Weathers pulling a male reader's hair

Warnings: smut/nsfw content, penetrative sex (please use a condom irl), hair pulling, power bottom Gale, service top reader, I made Gale really bossy and demanding here hehe

The news van was parked in a secluded area by the local police station in case there was a break in the latest story Gale was hunting, but right now that was the least of your worries.

You felt her nails scratch down your back as she clung to you, the sounds of your mixed pants and moans filling the back of the van. She had her dress pushed up and her legs wrapped around your waist, keeping you plunged deep within her as you thrusted roughly in and out.

"God, you feel so good-" She exclaimed loudly as she laid on a small table in the back. "Move to the left a little- No, my left, idiot-"

Usually you'd roll your eyes and scoff at her bossy demands, but right now you were currently too caught up in your pleasure to care much.

"Yes, that's it, much better-" Her mascara was smudged from sweat, her lipstick smeared and almost completely rubbed off by this point due to all the times you'd kissed her. In fact, you were quite certain that if you looked in a mirror you'd see that exact same shade of red painting your lips to match hers.

A quiet hiss escaped from you when you felt her dig her nails deep into your shoulder blades, her grip on you becoming tighter. "Jesus Christ, Gale, you don't need to be so rough."

She let out an offended scoff in response. "Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

You did as she said, your lips meeting in a passionate frenzy of desperation and lust. She parted her mouth, brushing her tongue over your bottom lip as she kissed you.

"You taste so good," she breathed out in a low and breathy voice, her eyes full of desire as she stared up at you. "Kiss me again."

Pulling you in for another kiss, her legs tightened around your waist as one of her hands moved from your back up to your hair. She tugged on it in order to direct where she wanted your mouth to go, an involuntary moan slipping from you when she did.

"I think someone likes having his hair pulled," she openly teased you, to which you replied to by giving her a particularly rough thrust. Letting out a loud groan at feeling your cock so deep in her, she retaliated by combing her fingers through your hair and giving it a harsh yank.

A noise escaped from you that sounded like a mix between a moan and a growl, your fingers digging into her thighs as you continued to pound into her sopping wet cunt. "Fuck you, Gale."

"I think you already are," she purred in a low voice as she tilted your head to the side with the hand still in your hair, leaning up to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. "And I'm loving every second of it."

By the time you were done, your head was sore and you had visible hickeys all over your neck. She wasn't faring much better, her usual pristine outfit wrinkled and makeup ruined. Neither one of you could walk properly after that for the next couple of days, but that didn't stop either one of you from having sex in the van again shortly after, like you usually did when there was nothing better to do.

If there was a lead to be found that night, the two of you certainly weren't aware of it, much too busy caught up in each other to find it.

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | Scream masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

Kinktober 2024 masterlist | Kinktober info post/prompt list

🏷 taglist: @missmewts @ghot-girl @taecube @corn3liiia @gilmore-angel @your-next-daydream @alexxavicry @noisy-dumb-piece-of-shit @lovelyy-moonlight @theonetruepotato87 @kirschface

#kinktober day 7 #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #lanawinterscigarettes kinktober 2024 #scream #scream imagine #scream x reader #scream fic #scream smut #gale weathers #gale weathers imagine #gale weathers x reader #gale weathers fic #gale weathers smut #male reader #x male reader #gale weathers x male reader

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amandacanwrite · 11 months ago

Text

The Violet Thread of Fate ||

Reluctant Mentor Gale x Unskilled Wizard F!Tav

Length || About 4,000 Words

POV || Dual Narration, Third Person

Warnings || Descriptions of viscera, age gap (about ten years, both adults)

Summary || After waking up on the craggy shoreline of the sword coast, Elinna and Gale reunite with a new common ground.

A/n || I am feeling sort of on the fence about Gale's eagerness in his attraction to Elinna, but I also feel like it's still at least somewhat in character for him--after all in any playthrough you can wind up being blindsided by his feelings for you since he is usually so subtle about his affections. I also just think it's so fun to get the internal narration of Gale's attraction. He always seems so put together, polite and proper. I just love to see a man precariously balancing his carnal desires with his conscience and desire to be a good man. I hope you like it, I know things feel a little slow right now, but I'm planning on taking some creative liberties in the next couple parts. Please also lemme know what you think if you read it! I am absolutely tinkerbell and need the dopamine to live

Chapter Two: A Nightmare, An Awakening

Read Part One Here • Join Tag List Here

A Nightmare

Elinna thought she had died; thought the disintegration of her bodily form was the end of her short, unremarkable life. Much to her surprise, though when her vision once again returned to her she realized she had merely been spirited away somehow.

It took a few moments for her eyes to properly focus. When they finally did, she almost wished that the contact with the tentacle had killed her. It would have been far preferable to where she had wound up.

She found herself locked in a great chitinous pod, looking through smeared membranous glass at what she could only suppose was the nautiloid she had tried to escape from.

Yes…death would have been a far preferable fate to becoming a mindless thrall on a mindflayer ship. As she squinted through the clear panel in front of her and saw what appeared to be a brain walking on four spindly limbs, she realized that her fate could be even worse than regular enthrallment.

The minutes she spent entrapped in the pod felt like hours. A miserable limbo of wondering what would be coming next for her. What if she was already marked for turning into an intellect devourer? What if the enthrallment had already been put in place and she could simply be ordered to do something whenever a mindflayer so wished it?

She couldn’t just stay here. She had to move.

She tried, in vain, to wrench her arms free of the fleshy brindings within the pod. The sinuous tendrils only tightened more and more, leaving her fingertips throbbing and tingling from the blood flow being cut off. She tried to move her feet next and her boots sloshed in some sort of viscera at the base of the pod. She did her best not to vomit as the viscera eked some ichorous fluid into the fibers of her clothing and through the porous leather of her soft-soled shoes.

The last thing she needed in addition to all of this was to be covered in the contents of her own stomach–empty as it was.

The shock of panic cinched tight around her ribcage, making it hard to breathe. And as she struggled to get her lungs to fill, she also struggled to think.

“Calm down, Elinna,” she told herself. “Think about what you’ve read. Think about what you know.”

What did she know about Illithids? They were hivemind organisms. They required high-moisture, high-humidity environments to protect the mucosal membranes of their skin. They primarily fed on the brains of their prey and used psionic energy not only to fight but to control their biomechanical machinery.

She craned her head forward to look for some sort of control panel–something that could get her out of this cocoon of horror.

As she did, a valve-like door opened on the far side of the room, revealing a dizzying network of corridors. And…and one of them. A mind flayer.

Elinna went dizzy as her heart thumped in her temples. She watched in horror and sickly anticipation as it levitated toward something in the center of the room; a cistern of sorts from what she could see. It waved a four-fingered hand and the vessel opened, revealing a golden, glowing brine pool that may have been beautiful if Elinna didn’t know precisely what it was.

The mindflayer coaxed one of those disgusting tadpoles out of the amber liquid and levitated over to Elinna’s pod. She recoiled away from it as the pod opened, turning her face away from the creature and squeezing her eyes shut. She knew exactly how mindflayers reproduced, and she was not interested in getting a first hand experience with ceremorphosis.

She didn’t have much of a choice, though. Even without the parasite, the illithid was able to compel her to stillness.

It was an atrocious violation of her agency; surreal and nightmarish in the worst ways. Her mind was fully intact as the creature made her muscles release the tension they held and coerced her eyes to open. Her body was still and calm, but her heart was racing like a trapped rabbit’s. She watched uselessly as the tiny creature floated closer to her. She cried to cry out as it latched onto the orb of her eye and started to wriggle and squirm until it could find purchase beneath her eyelid.

She was silent. Infuriatingly, horribly silent as the creature continued to burrow its way into her skull.

Her pulse hammered in her ears as she screamed inside her own body, begging herself to fight, to tear her own eye out rather than let the process of ceremorphosis take place.

But her body was still as the tiny parasite worked its way into her eye socket and back into her brain.

Elinna lost consciousness as she felt the unsettling pressure of her brain matter being displaced to accommodate her unwelcome guest.

When she awoke next, she didn’t immediately know where she was. She only knew that it was loud and it was cold. The sound of air ripping past her pointed ears is what brought her back into full consciousness, and though her eyes were open, she wasn’t actually seeing at first.

There was a vast expanse of stars above her, the smell of salty air, the lingering cling of something far more acrid–like the smell of burnt sulfur woven into her clothes.

She tried to parse what was going on, it felt like she was sinking into the ocean–but if that were the case, shouldn’t she not be able to breathe?

Then she saw the burning wreckage of the Nautiloid and everything came back to her.

The travel to Waterdeep, the encounter with Mr. Dekarios, the parasite and…

And she was falling through the sky!

“Not again!” she cried as she stared at the ground rising to meet her with startling velocity. “No, no, no! I will not–This is not how I die!”

It didn’t go very well the last time, but it wasn’t as if she had any other ideas of what to do. She scoped out the approaching shoreline, selecting one spot and earmarking it. After choosing a point on a craggy cliffside, she shut her eyes and tried to gulp in a breath before it was whipped out of her mouth.

“Inveniam Viam!” she shouted.

That strange, surreal feeling of not moving, yet being in a different place came again, only this time it was followed very quickly by the feeling smashing into the ground beneath her, square onto her back. It wasn’t a far drop, perhaps only a few feet, but it was enough to hurt her. She blinked up at the sky above her, the glow of the stars somewhat dampened by the flaming wreckage of the nautiloid as it loudly crashed into the earth just a few moments after her.

She ached as she stood and looked out over the cliffside she’d misty stepped to, seeing the vast expanse of an unfamiliar coast crawling with intellect devourers and the blazing with fires choking out great plumes of black smoke. She dropped to her knees, feeling utterly defeated.

She had no idea where she was. She had no money. No food. Not even a change of clothes with her. She didn’t even know where she was–and she knew she was more than a little directionally challenged.

Her keepers at The Scribes Nest had told her not to leave; had warned her that there were dangers in the world. That she couldn’t hope to survive on the knowledge she’d amassed from books alone. That the lives of wizards often ended in folly.

She knew this, of course. She’d read extensively about every wizard she could find and more than half of them were done in by their own curiosity.

But the ones who hadn’t been rendered themselves undone…they were amazing. Elminster and Blackstaff. Lorroikan and Sammaster. Karsus and Dekarios.

Wait….

Gale Dekarios–he’d been touched by the tentacles, too!

And if she hadn’t died, then that meant he probably hadn’t either. If she could find him, if she could just appeal to him for one favor…maybe he could help her get back to Waterdeep. Maybe she would have an opportunity to prove to him that she could be a good apprentice; that she was worth the trouble of taking on as a student. Maybe he would know how to get rid of the tadpole squirming in her brain.

But none of that would happen if she just sat there on her knees and despaired.

She would need to get back up and put one bloody boot in front of the other.

She would have to be brave and she would have to trust that Mystra would guide her to what came next.

An Awakening

Hells…it just had to be a pocket dimension that saved him, didn’t it?

They were tricky little things–a slice of wild magic that functioned like an oubliette; a place to put things to be forgotten, or to be summoned at a different point in time. He’d used a few in his time, but never for more than storage during travel or to hide the occasional failed potion. He’d thought once that he might use one when it was clear that the orb would no longer be sated by the magic artifacts he consumed; discussed the idea with Tara before she requested not to speak of it until necessary.

“I don’t like think of that eventuality, Mr. Dekarios,” Tara had said to him. “I know I tend to be pragmatic…but it makes me far too sad.”

“Focus,” he scolded himself as he looked around the darkened pocket. He needed to find an opening–or at least find a way to make one, failing that.

It was a mistake that he’d even ended up in one in the first place. A mistake that stemmed from the first mistake when he’d tried to help that girl.

If he’d had any sense, he would have let her run and gone straight to help his mother and make sure Tara would be okay. He could only hope that they were still safely nestled at his childhood home in Waterdeep. At least he’d not seen either of them during his wanderings about the ship.

But then the spelljammer had lurched and started falling out of the sky, and he’d grabbed onto the strongest strand of weave he could find and followed it here. The unfortunate side of that, of course, was that the strength of that thread is precisely what made this particular pocket realm exceedingly hard to get out of. And the parasite so rudely deposited into his brain was not doing wonders for his ability to concentrate.

He held his hands up and closed his eyes, attempting to feel out the strands of weave in this darkened place. Wherever he’d been transported to, it felt very far away from Mystra indeed. Like whatever reality he’d blipped into was one almost entirely devoid of magic at all.

He focused a bit harder, the tadpole in his head wriggling with the effort. He continued to focus, trying not to think too hard about the unnerving sensation. Finally, with some challenge, he managed to pool some magic together. It felt similar to trying to collect enough morning dew on a leaf to drink.

There came a crackle, then a tear. Not nearly large enough to fit himself entirely through, but enough that he could get an arm out.

Perhaps with at least one hand in Faerun, he could channel whatever remaining weave he needed to fully escape this dark corner of nothing.

A sheen of perspiration shone on his brow as he felt around outside of the oubliette. He could feel the familiar moisture of coastal air and it sent a wave of relief through him. He wasn’t far from Waterdeep at all, then. Or at least he’d hoped as much.

Perhaps he could just appear on the main road and hurry straight to his mother to make sure that she and Tara were alright.

He was trying to grasp onto the weave when he suddenly felt the soft, almost tentative brush of fingertips on the palm of his hand.

A person! Perfect! There was no better way to anchor a teleportation spell than to another living soul. It would be a little complex to explain that, though, and he was sure a mysterious arm poking out of wherever he could reach was more than a little unnerving so he settled for simplicity instead.

“Hello?!” He called through the tear in the fabric of space and time. “Is anyone there? A hand? Please?”

He felt the hand withdraw for a moment, then it returned with what he assumed was the person’s other hand. One closed tightly around his fingers, the other grasped a bit higher, accompanied by the sensation of fingertips curling into the fabric of his sleeve. Small, gentle hands. Not small enough to be a child–but perhaps a woman.

He closed his eyes once more and took a deep breath, allowing himself to feel the energy of the stranger on the other side of the opening. He tapped into it, smelling the faint, sweetly lactic scent of peaches; tasting on the tip of his tongue the light flavor of…honeyscotch candy. If Mystra’s energy was violet in color…this energy was the color of the sky during sunrise…a gradient of lilac, rose and cerulean.

Pretty… he thought to himself before slamming the heel of his hand to his brow.

Focus you touch-starved buffoon.

“Whatever you’re doing is working wonders!” he said encouragingly. “I think if you just give me a good pull, I should come right out!”

The stranger pulled and he joined that effort by pushing himself through from the other side with what remained of that pooled bit of magic he’d gathered together.

Finally, he flew out of the pocket realm like a cork from a bottle, regrettably landing right on top of the poor woman who had helped him.

He was quick to shift his weight so he didn’t put the entirety of his considerable heft on the poor thing. Yet, his creaky knees slowed him down when it came to properly getting up. Then again…he couldn’t deny a certain reluctance to rise. He hated to admit it, and if anyone ever asked him he would deny it to the grave…but it was pleasant to feel the soft curves of a woman against him. A year was such a long time to be without it, and to feel warmth beneath him again…

It was a lascivious thought not becoming of a gentleman, he remembered, but one that occurred almost automatically much to his chagrin.

“Hells,” he said. “Forgive me miss. I’m usually much better at this–and usually not so long sedentary that my limbs can’t keep up with my manners. Allow me to–”

He lifted himself up onto his elbows and finally laid eyes on his savior.

It was the girl from before. What was the name? Elinna Inklynn.

She stared up at him with wide eyes and a face flushed with exertion. How hard had she needed to work to pull him out of that portal? Seeing her so close now, he picked up on some of the qualities he’d missed in the dim light of the Waterdhavian evening.

A constellation of mauve-tinged freckles dusted across her flushed nose and cheeks. In the daylight, her skin was almost pale pink. The soft swell of her lips sat slightly parted with a look of surprise. And her eyes…my those eyes were something to behold. Verdant as a sprig of mint and flecked with gold as if she had a vein of ore curling through the irises of her eyes.

“A-allow me to help you up,” he finally stammered. “You’re not hurt are you?”

“Not by you,” she said somewhat breathlessly.

He grunted slightly as he got back onto his feet, now allowing himself to think of the way her soft curves shifted beneath him. He reached a hand down and helped her back up to her feet as well, dusting off her theadbare apron and her slightly puffed sleeves. She was still flushed–perhaps dehydration or fever…or…

“You haven’t happened to have been on the receiving end of a rather unwelcome insertion in the ocular region, have you?” he asked.

The flush could be a sign of the beginning stages of ceremorphosis.

“I couldn’t have phrased it more repellently myself,” Elinna replied.

“No use sugarcoating it, is there?” he asked with a smirk. “I don’t suppose you know what these little passengers will cause if left to their own devices?”

“Ceremorphosis,” she answered without missing a beat. “At least–if we don’t get it handled in a few days…”

Well, color him surprised.

It wasn’t very often that ceremorphosis was talked about among the common man–it was even hard to find books detailing the finer details of the process. The girl may have been a poor magician, but she was clearly learned.

“Suffice to say, it is a process that should be avoided,” he said.

“Agreed,” she said.

It occurred to him that she was behaving…a bit stiff; almost aloof. The young woman he’d encountered in front of his tower had a bit more fire to her than this one did. Then again, they’d just gone through quite the harrowing experience. Both of them were covered in mysterious viscera, they’d been taken hostage on a mindflayer ship and well–the poor girl did just have a strange older man on top of her.

The girl bit down on her lower lip and he found his eyes unconscionably glued to her mouth. She released her lower lip and he watched as the pale pink color returned to it, wondering idly what it would feel like to–

“Are we just—are we just going to pretend that I didn’t beg you to take me on as an apprentice and that you quite sumerilly told me to bugger off?” she asked. “Are we just going to be compatriots now?”

He blinked down at her, his mind catching up with her words.

Good gods, he really was behaving like a lech. He didn’t know where this was coming from. Perhaps it was an undocumented symptom of ceremorphosis–this…uncommon desire he was feeling.

Or maybe he was just, well, desperate.

“Well, I take umbrage with that analysis. I don’t believe I told you to bugger off…At least not verbatim. I do try to not be a miserable ass,” Gale said a bit sheepishly. “But I hasten to point out that we do have a shared problem now–some common ground we didn’t have before. It seems wasteful to part ways at a juncture such as this, don’t you think?”

He looked around in the early morning daylight and frowned realizing that he didn’t recognize anything. “I certainly don’t know the area after all, and judging by the history you disclosed with me, you likely don’t either.”

“Well…no, I don’t. Aside from Waterdeep I’ve not been anywhere other than the Moonshae Islands.” she said.

“And you seem to not have a very strong sense of location judging by our time in the alleyways,” he pointed out.

“That’s true…so then… does that mean you’ll do it?” she asked. “You’ll take me on as your student?”

He grimmaced.

“No,” he said with not a moment’s hesitation. “Not a student–an ally. An equal. It’s best that we tackle this issue together, don’t you think? It makes no sense to travel separately when our searching will likely lead us to the same places. And besides that…”

Besides that, if he started to change into a mindflayer, he wanted to be sure he had someone nearby who could…put him out of his misery and get his body somewhere safe before it leveled a city.

“But I could be more helpful if you teach me,” she pleaded. “I’d just be a liability without your help.”

“I have seen your magic,” Gale said with a bit of a teasing gaze. “And I don’t know if there is much I can do for someone who casts Misty Step with their eyes closed. It seems you’d be more of a liability with the magic than without.”

She blinked up at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Oh, please,” he said. “You must know that it’s a spell that requires a clear line of sight.”

She shrank a bit. “I…didn’t know. No,” she said.

“How could you not know such a thing? You must have read a scroll to learn the incantation,” he said.

“I mean this with the utmost respect, but when is the last time you’ve read a scroll, Mr. Dekarios?”

He inhaled, lifting an index finger. Then he closed his mouth and looked off to the side.

When was the last time? It must have been ages.

“Well,” she said without waiting for his answer. “Most spell scrolls assume a certain basis of classical training, or at minimum an innate understanding of how to channel the weave.”

“I see,” he said. “I’m to assume you’re not a sorceress then?”

“Not to my knowledge,” she said with a sigh.

He clenched his jaw as he looked down at the younger woman. Gods, she really did need a teacher. Maybe he could at least talk to her about theory–or give her a few simple exercises for manipulating the–

No. No.

He had more than enough on his plate without adding a poorly self-taught mage to it.

“Elinna,” he said. “Tell you what. I have a deal to offer–a concession if your like. If we make it through this and…make it out of wherever we are and back to Waterdeep, I promise I will introduce you to some colleagues that will help you get your start as a novice wizard. How does that sound? Fair?”

To his great surprise, she still looked disappointed by that answer. The girl really was an ambitious thing–coming right to his tower to seek his tutelage and no one else's? The poor girl had no idea what she was trying to sign herself up for; a depressed, anti-social, explosive wizard. A depressed, anti-social, explosive and impatient wizard. As far as teachers went, he was not the best candidate for the job.

“Alright,” she finally said. “Let’s see if we can go find a healer together…or maybe some other survivors…of a bath.”

“Oh, to find a bath,” Gale agreed. “Ah, but–before you think you’re journeying with most ill mannered a man–”

Gale gave the young woman a slight bow. “Thank you for pulling me out of that stone.”

When he stood up to his full height again, the young woman was smiling at him, her pretty viridian eyes crinkling at the edges. She tucked a pale copper strand of hair behind one of her delicately pointed ears and looked a bit sheepishly down the craggy shore.

“Ah–it’s almost a dead end over here–I think there might be more ground to cover if we cross through the wreckage…but I didn’t want to do that on my own,” she said.

“A wise choice, I think,” Gale said. “No telling what you would have run into. Not to imply that you can’t hold your own, of course–”

“No, you’re right,” she said, looking away from him a little timidly. “I’ll feel better with you there–it’s nice to have a friend.”

He huffed a soft breath and found himself smiling at how willing she was to call him her friend. Even after all the ways he had been a bit of an oaf to her, he felt in her he had found a bit of a kindred spirit. Someone else who sought camaraderie in perhaps…unworthy places.

She looked up at him and bit the swell of her lower lip again. “Shall we go then?” she asked him.

He gestured to the road ahead. “After you,” he said with a magnanimous smile. “Consider me your ever faithful guard dog, ready at the first sign of trouble.”

She snorted a little laugh and shook her head.

And as he followed after her, for the first time in the last year, he hoped the pang in his chest was because of the orb.

Taglist || @auroraesmeraldarose @thoughts-of-bear @cherifrog @puckprimrose @drabblesandimagines

#writing #authors #writeblr #my writing #bg3 #romantasy #writers on tumblr #writing community #bg3 fanfic #gale fanfic #gale headcannons #gale x tav #student x teacher #professor! gale #Gale dekarios #dekarios clan #violet thread of fate

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

Text

I Come With Knives Pt8

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Finished writing this at midnight. I am so sleepy, which definitely influenced this chapter. Not proofread. We love trying to develop a "slow burn" relationship as an aro ace individual ✌️

Warnings: paranoia, predator-prey/hunting mention

Word Count: 1,373

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The Underdark had everybody on edge, but none so much as you and Astarion. You were restless. The darkness consumed you, pressing in on you until it devoured your thoughts, heightening your fears. Shadows out of the corners of your eyes made you jump. Your heart wouldn’t settle at all. When you’d choose to set up camp and sleep for the night (though it was impossible to know when day had actually passed), Astarion could hear your heart racing at every little thing. Even the bioluminescence of the place didn’t help; there was never enough light to feel safe.

The lack of food for Astarion down here also had not escaped your notice. While Gale could scrounge up enough food from the supplies you’d brought along, there was nary a morsel for the spawn. So, you’d very quickly come to an agreement.

You’d set up your bedroll in his tent, close to his, though with perhaps a foot between. He’d light one of the candles and you’d talk quietly within the warm glow, until he could hear your heart slow to a reasonable pace. Once the first signs of exhaustion began to creep in, you offered him your wrist. He never drank as much as the first time, and your heart didn’t leap into your throat when he’d bite down. He was almost grateful you were becoming comfortable with it; he’d hate to act as a constant reminder of your master - more than he already was. You’d fall into a somewhat restful sleep, and Astarion would take watch for half the night or read, before meditating.

It was comfortable. A system that greatly benefitted both of you. Each night you’d talk about the day’s events or about fragments of your old lives. You always tried to avoid talking of your servitude, but Astarion began opening up more about his. With each new tidbit of information, the more determined you became to kill Cazador. It was endearing. You feared your own master so much, but you swore to the ends of the earth you would bring his down, without an ounce of hesitation. He wished you’d understand he felt the same way about Kir Parthene.

Tonight, however, you couldn’t get comfortable. You felt unsafe no matter how long you stared into the flickering candlelight. Days of darkness were beginning to get to you. You imagined shapes in the shadows that disappeared when you blinked. You kept getting turned around and disoriented, retreating into your head so often you’d forget where you were entirely. It got so bad that someone else had to step up and lead the way while you walked in the middle of the group, surrounded by everyone else so you didn’t think someone would attack you from behind. Even then, you kept glancing over your shoulder.

Astarion had already eaten. Your wrist was safely bandaged, and your head lingered on the edge of hazy. You were already laying down, blankets tucked snugly around your neck, and yet all you could do was watch the wax slowly melt. Even closing your eyes scared you too much.

Astarion sighed when he looked up from his book an hour later and you still had not fallen asleep. “Darling, you’re safe here. You need to sleep.”

Your eyes dragged from the wick to his face. He could tell you were exhausted. Your body fought to give in; your eyes looked seconds away from shutting for good, but you forced them to stay open. You were actively sabotaging yourself, and you couldn’t stop it. “I can’t,” you croaked.

“What are you scared of?”

A distant look takes over, dulling the shine in your eyes. You frown at the canvas of the tent over his shoulder. “She would,” you swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep talking, “hunt me down, in the dark. Have the servants blow out every candle until it was pitch black. She’d tell me to run. I-I couldn’t see anything, I just had to remember where everything was. I’d run into walls and- and she’d count down and start chasing me. I couldn’t see her. All I’d hear is her footsteps, or her laugh.” You shuddered and curled further into yourself, pulling the blanket even tighter around your neck. “Being down here, all I can think of is that place. I don’t even think - I’m just following the layout of the rooms in my head. And I just think she’s there, waiting for me to be caught off guard so she can win her little game.”

He slips a scrap of silk between the pages of his book and sets it aside. “You’re safe,” he reassures you, carefully reaching out to touch your shoulder. You relax slightly at the contact. “We’ll protect you. I’ll protect you. She’ll never lay another finger on you again.”

You finally meet his eyes again. He can see the telltale sign of tears building in the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back. “Thank you,” you hoarsely whisper.

“Now sleep, love. You can’t keep stumbling around the dark in this state.”

He pulls his hand away, but your hand shoots out from your blanket to grab it. It’s not a tight hold, just enough to keep him in place, if the suddenness didn’t already keep him there. “Don’t…” You fight to find the words you want. Spots form at the edge of your vision, your mind mere moments away from collapsing under the mental stress, no longer overthinking about what lingers in the dark. “Don’t stop, please.”

He frowns, turning his hand over in your loose grip to hold your hand. “Don’t stop what?”

“Touching me.” Your eyes watch as your fingers curl loosely back around his own. All the while, your eyelids struggle to stay open. They flutter, until they finally shut.

Your fingers begin slipping through it, but he holds on a bit tighter to stop them. He’d held your hand before, when he drank too much from your wrist that your fingers became cold, even if it did nothing to warm them back up. But this felt different. Whereas before it felt like a simple courtesy, not expected but done anyway, this was a request.

He sighed softly as he studied your sleeping form. He could hear your heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, your breaths evening out; see the way your body completely relaxed, your hold on the blanket loosening until it slid from your neck down to your shoulder.

He fought with his thoughts for a minute. It wouldn’t be too difficult to go back to reading, he’d read with one hand before. But the story no longer seemed interesting. He no longer had the desire to know what happened next. Anything else he could think of doing - embroidery, sharpening his daggers, repairing any tears in his clothes - all required two hands. A stab of emotion shot through his chest at the thought of letting go.

Another minute later, and he resigned himself to his fate. He scooted closer and lid down, until you were face to face. Slowly, as to not disturb you, he let go of your hand, gently tucking yours back under the blanket by your chest. A slight crease formed in your brow that only eased when he draped his arm over your waist. You let out a long, slow breath, leaning forward to chase after his comfort. He indulged you, pushing himself even further into your space, until your forehead rested against his shoulder.

It was awkward, of course. He had no idea what he was doing, but you seemed to enjoy it, even in your sleep. Soon enough his arm wrapped more purposefully around your waist. His other cushioned his head like a pillow. At some point in the night, you’d reached out of the safety of your blanket and grabbed onto the loose fabric of his shirt. He’d carefully tucked the blanket back around your neck, hiding the scar there. He’d lingered for a few moments, studying it with a frown, but you’d pull him out of his disdain with a quiet, tired sound, and he’d finish covering it up and hold you close again.

Very quickly, this, too, was added to your nightly routine.

---

Tag List:

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bcolfanfic · 5 months ago

Note

~ person a and person b staying up so late to talk to each other without even paying attention to the time. and then they fall asleep on the phone with each other ~

this on “mutual crush prompt list” but was wondering if we could change it up a little bit for angst purposes and make it so its the first work trip buck has to take months after bucky’s suicide attempt so they’re on the phone all night.

my babiess. for new-to-me folks, this is based off my young veterans modern au- specifially this fic.

---

John unlocked his phone, relocked and unlocked it again, squinting at the brightness before he swiped up to lower it.

10:50

He'd talked to Gale four hours ago and they'd said their goodnights then. It was even later in New York- almost one in the morning to be exact.

Gale was probably asleep or getting close to it, and John didn't want to call him. Wanted to let him rest before he had to go be in academic mode all day, wanted to prove to himself just as much as his husband that he could get through a night alone.

But the longer he laid in the dark the itchier he felt.

There was something in a flask under the mattress that would take the itch away without waking Gale- the only thing keeping him from it being how tired he was down to the bone. Too tired to lift the mattress.

He swiped open to Gale's contact and pressed the small phone icon, sucking in the right side of his cheek.

It barley rang twice before he picked up.

"Hey hon," He said softly, and if he hadn't been asleep he sounded like he was getting pretty close to it. "Everything okay?"

"Mhm." John said, letting his cheek back out with a small exhale. "Sorry if I woke you."

"Don't be. But you know I gotta ask again. You okay?"

Gale Gale Gale. Ever the perceptive one.

"Don't wanna make you feel guilty for going." He said quietly, eyes fixated on a thread coming loose in their comforter. He hated that he could feel his eyes starting to sting. Being vulnerable was still, as his therapist referred to it a skill there was room for progress on.

Whether he knew somewhere in his head that Gale needed no prompting to feel hesitant about going to this conference was irrelevant. John had practically had to push him through the automatic doors of the airport terminal when he'd dropped him off, but guilt clawed at him anyways.

"Hey- no." Gale said on the other end, and John could hear him sitting up a little. "Not gonna do that, so tell me what's going on?"

"Just miss you." He said. "I'm not feeling bad y'know?" He continued, opting for a euphuism- not wanting to say the words that'd be needed to spell it out exactly out loud. "Just weird being alone I guess. I dunno."

It was quiet for a moment, like it always got when Gale figured he might have more to say when he actually did.

"Think you might be able to get some sleep if I stay on the line till you're out?" He said finally, so tender for someone who had to be up in just about five hours that it made John's chest tight.

"Don't have to do that." John replied, predicting the protest he got before it left Gale's mouth.

"Yeah, well I want to- so let me? Can bore you to sleep with physics gibberish."

A small, tired, laugh escaped John at that as he rolled back down onto his stomach, resting his phone on Gale's side of the bed. "'kay," He said, voice half muffled by his pillow. "I'm all ears."

Gale kept to his promise in regard to the psychics talk, and even when it was saying a whole lot of things that he'd still struggle to understand fully awake, his voice made John's chest warm. Made his shoulders feel like they could actually relax, the itch shedding off just enough for him to let sleep pull him under.

#young vets au #buck x bucky #clegan #masters of the air

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opposums-love-arson · 1 year ago

Text

Scream Queen Book 1: Conventional Final Girl

Chapter 5

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

P.S. lmk if y'all would like to be added to the tag list

“Sidney Prescott and (y/n) (l/n) both escaped a vicious attack last night but one of them is the daughter of Maurine Prescott, who was brutally murdered last year when convicted killer Cotton Weary broke into their home and savagely raped and tortured the deceased. Cotton Weary is currently awaiting an appeal for the death sentence, handed down after the young Sidney testified against him…” The reporter just went on and on through the tv screen. Tatum was rubbing Sid’s arm as a sign of everything will be okay. I held Sid’s hand to signify the same message, gently squeezing it so she knows she’s not alone. “It’s never going to stop is it?” She asked with a small chuckle.

As Dewey sat across from us he notified, “Billy was released.”

Sidney’s face faltered once she heard this, I think she’s still afraid of it all. I on the other hand slouched back with a wave of relief.

“His celular bill was clean, he didn’t make those calls,” Dewey said as he sat back in the chair, “We’re checking every celular account in the county. Any calls made to you two or Casey Becker are being cross referenced, it’s going to take some time but we’ll find 'em.”

I squeezed Sid’s hand again and Tatum lightly punched her arm. “Okay,” was all Sid could really say right now.

“We’ve got this, Sis.” I said to her with a small smile.

I guess pulling up to school in a patrol car was cool? Kind of gave a real “Back off” vibe when we stepped on the school grounds. “Don’t worry girls, it’s school. You’ll be safe here.” Dewey reassured us...but if there’s a possibility that the killer is another student, is it really all that safe? Reporters swarmed us once Sid and I were completely out of the car. One woman going as far as asking, “So how does it feel to be almost brutally butchered?” Seriously what thee fuck? Sid and Tatum walked ahead of me right as I was ready to hook it to another reporter like I did to Gale. Sadly enough though I was stopped by two pairs of arms holding me back while my legs went swinging.

“Let me at ‘em!” I exclaimed to my mystery captors.

“Not a chance little Nancy Thompson,” I could hear Randy’s voice from my left.

“Yeah these reporters are worse than any Freddy Kruger!” And then there was Stu’s cackle from the right.

“Fine screw it, I just don’t want to see anymore of them haggling Sid again.” I said as I slightly jumped out at the flock of reporters.

“Uh, where did Sid go anyways” I asked the two boys as I spun around. Finally seeing her talking to Weathers I tried to beeline but Stu held me back.

“Dude, (y/n) slow your roll. Syd’s just talking to her,” Stu said as he secured me against his chest. I did my best to hide the red embarrassment all over my face.

“Yeah probably fixing the mess you made last night,” Randy said as he rolled my eyes.

His words struck something in me, I just calmed down and stopped fight Stu’s hold, if anything I was holding myself now.

Stu punched Randy in the arm before said, “Way to go man.”

“Wha- I-” Randy was about to pick his own fight with Stu again.

I beat them to it when I turned around still in Stu’s grasp and said, “No he’s right, what I did last night was reckless and now Sidney is the one who has to clean it up.” I leaned my head on Stu’s chest.

“C’mon (y/n), it wasn’t that bad?” Randy backpedaled on his words to try and make me feel better but lets face it, when you punch someone on national tv… it’s pretty bad.

At our lockers we waited around for the bell to ring. “This is a mistake, we shouldn't be here,” Sid said as she gathered her books. I’m honestly with her on that, it’s a total scare fest in the halls today. “I want you to meet me right here after class, okay Sid?” Tatum addressed my step sister but left me out of the question. Peaking my head over my locker door I arched an eyebrow. “I’ll walk you out of class (y/n),” Stu pipped in before looking at himself in a mirror. “Yeah okay Chicken Stew,” I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh at my own pun. I thought Stu would’ve laughed but before he could Sid said, “Hey I haven’t really seen Billy around, is he really pissed?” What the fuck Sidney? I thought. “Oh after you branded him the Candyman? No, his heart’s broken!” Stu exclaimed, earning a punch from Tatum. He said “ow” as Tatum said his name in a stern frustrated manner.

Someone came running down the hall in what’s now been dubbed the ‘Ghostface’ costume as they screamed bloody murder while jumping out at people. I let out a squeal before grabbing hold of Stu’s tan and white over shirt. Feeling heat rise up to my face I quickly let go and lightly brushed out my hair to compose myself. Stu turned around and pinched my cheeks, “Awe is (y/n) scewed of da big bad boo-gy man?” I swatted his hands away while saying, “Given recent events, yeah obviously.” Shuffling past Stu and over to Sid I notice his expression change for a split second for playful to envious. “Come on (y/n), you punched Gale Weathers on live news, I think you’ll be fine if you get yelled at by a kid in a costume,” Tatum said as she playfully rolled her eyes with a smirk. I couldn’t take it anymore, whether it was the embarrassment, the fear, the secrets, or the regret. I just couldn’t. I ran off from the group as both Tatum and Sid shouted after me.

As I ran down the hall I bumped into another figure.

“Shit!” I exclaimed as I pushed off of them.

“Hey it’s just me,” I heard an all too familiar voice say to me.

“Oh-oh… Billy,” I said as I backed away.

Waving his index finger between us he asked, “You still think it’s me?”

I reassure him I don’t by saying, “No, I don’t I was just shocked to see you.” As I fiddled with my shirt.

“I swear it’s not me (y/n),” Billy said stepping forward.

Looking up at him I said, “I know Billy, there was still someone in the house that night though. So can you please-” I cut myself off seeing the lack of inches in the space between Billy and I.

“I know, I know, the cops say I scared him away. It wasn’t me (y/n).” He said as he looked down at me a little.

“I know, he called us again when we were at Tatum’s…”

“See! Couldn’t have been me, I was in jail,” Billy said as he turned over his hands to reveal inky fingerprints. “Remember?”

“I’m sorry, but please understand,” I started as I looked up.

“Understand what? My girlfriend and her little step sister would rather accuse me of being a psychopathic killer than touch me?” Billy looked back down at me, I could smell the spearmint gum roll off his breath.

“You know that’s not true…” I said as I knitted my eyebrows together and grabbed a hold of his arm.

“Then what is it?” He asked, hurt and confusion heard in his voice.

“Billy, Sid and I were attacked and nearly filleted last night?!” I asked, slightly appalled he’d even ask as if it weren’t clear.

“I mean between us…” Billy said as his eyes stared down into my soul with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

“What do you mean between us?” I asked at this point very confused as I let go of him and take a step back.

“Isn't it obvious (y/n)? For the past five months, the smirks, the glances, the nudging, the little notes, Stu and I being practically all over you?” Billy said as he used his free hand that wasn’t on the banister to wave around.

“No it wasn’t obvious! I mean Stu I knew about but you?! Billy, you’re my sister’s boyfriend!” I exclaimed, getting justifiably annoyed and upset.

“Not anymore, she practically broke up with me the night at the station!” He raised his voice, making me flinch a little, he must’ve noticed since he let his body relax a little.

“Look Billy I’ve had a crush on you and Stu for months but I know for sure this isn’t the way to go about things. Sidney didn’t say she broke up with you and I’m not going to just be a rebound to make her jealous.” I said resting my hand above his on the banister.

Billy scoffed before saying, “(y/n), be real here Sid doesn’t want to see me anymore and like I said, the past five months…” Billy let his words trail off as he came closer to me, placing his hand on my forearm. Just like at the lockers my head was racing and everything felt so wrong, I just couldn’t take it. I just stepped away, shaking my head while I walked off letting Billy shout my name.

Turning around to look at him I said, “I’m sorry if me having good morality for my sister’s relationship is an inconvenience to you and your perfect existence!” I exclaimed before turning back round.

“What? What do yo- Nobody said that, (y/n)!” Billy shouted after me but it just faded out as I ran away.

Stomping my way into the bathroom I make my way over to one of the sinks, I dig in my backpack for an aspirin or something.

“They were never attacked, I think they made it all up,” I heard one of the bathroom stalls say.

“Why would they lie about that?” A girl in another stall asked

“For attention, the girl and her sister have some serious issues!” The first girl replies.

Part of me wanted to hide in the bathroom stall like the sad girls in the movies always did but then I remembered, this is life. In life you just gotta roll with the punches, so I’m doing just that, except this time I might punch back. Right when the two walk out of the stalls their faces dropped. Yeah I assumed seeing the face of one of your gossip subjects will do that to ya. I kept staring at them as they washed their hands, too scared to even look in my general direction. As they walked out I did that stupid petty way where you swish your fingers up and down. Finally I can cry in peace, I thought as I walked into an empty stall. Deciding that the short few seconds I’ve been in here were enough for me to feel refreshed I walk out, my eyes red and puffy while my lashes stick together.

“Pathetic,” I said into the mirror. I always thought I held myself to a higher standard than this, not really with the crying thing. More so with the Stu and Billy thing…

I don’t have time to think about it much when I hear a strange noise in the restroom. Getting low to the ground I check underneath all the stalls. Empty. Looking around I notice a loud vent in the wall, that must’ve been it. As I go back to shuffling around my bag I could’ve sworn I heard someone whisper my name. Maybe it’s better to ignore it? Slowly and carefully I get back down low to check again. This time I’m met with a pair of beat up leather work boots dropping down from the stall. “Oh shit,” I whispered to myself.

The stall door unlatches quickly and I try to make a run for it but I’m caught by the Ghostface.

Thrashing around as he holds back my arms I asked, “Alright real funny, who is it? Stu, Rand, Billy? If this is some sort of pay back then it won’t work!” The man behind the mask said nothing, but he violently jerked my face to the bathroom mirror. “What?” I ask, my face clearly showing malevolence towards whoever it is pulling the prank. That was until he pulled out an eight-inch long hunting knife. He slowly and lightly dragged the knife along my torso, from the collar of my cropped shirt all the way down to the button of my low rise jeans, applying extra pressure near my zipper. “Ya’ know if I wasn’t so skeptical about you trying to kill me right now we could probably take this in a very different direction,” I said as a more matter-of-factly sentence. I’m not sure if this shocked the masked murderer or gave him a change of heart but his grip loosen and I BOOKED IT! I slammed the bathroom door open passing by a couple of teachers but I really just wanted to get the hell out of here.

After calming down a little bit I got outside of the school just quick enough to hear Principal Himbry say, “Attention now kids, due to the recent events that have occurred effective immediately, all classes are suspended until further notice,” Holy shit, “The Woodsboro police department has issued a citywide curfew beginning at nine o’clock tonight.” The whooping and hollering cheers that were so loud just a second ago died down into monotone boos. At least we’re out of school?

“It was just some sick fuck having a laugh, sue me.” Tatum said as she rolled her eyes at me.

“No, it was him Tatum I know it. Or else he wouldn’t have had a huge ass hunting knife!” I exclaimed in a huff.

“Okay well, you're not to be alone anymore. If you pee, we all pee. Is that clear?” Asked Tatum

Sid and I looked each other up and now simultaneously say, “Ew, please no.”

Spooking up from behind us was Stu as he blabbered nonsensical words that most likely would’ve made sense if we were paying attention.

“I don’t know what you did girls,” He said handing each of us flowers, “but on behalf of the entire student body we all say THANK YOU!” Stu shouted full force from his lungs.

“Stop it Stu,” Tatum said as she hit him with the little purple flower.

I was so distracted by the two that I didn’t notice Stu change targets and come barreling towards me, hoisting me over his shoulder.

“Stu! Oh my god asshole! I’d like to be returned to the security of my feet on the ground!” I shout at I hit his back with my palms.

In the midst of my one sided battle Stu announces, “To celebrate this impromptu fall break, I propose we have a party. Tonight at my house!”

Looking over to my right I see my step sister’s face contort into an emotion of unease, “Are your sure?”

“Yeah as long as this little vixen doesn’t invite the entire world!” Stu exclaims as he motions to his girlfriend who is currently keeping me company by swinging my free hand.

Stu goes on by saying, “Intimate gather, intimate friends,” whilst poking my thigh right below my ass. He should be glad Tatum didn’t see that one.

“What do you say Sid? I mean pathos could have it’s perks?” Tatum piped up just as Stu let me down. Now Tatum and I have switched spots beside Stu.

“Could totally protect you, yo I’m so buff, I got you covered bro!” Stu does a macho man impersonation as he twirls around Tatum.

I fall a little back from the group, wondering if Billy will be there… he most likely will, won’t he?

“I mean c'mon Sid? (Y/n), you with me? It could be fun.” Tatum says as she turns to us both.

While the girls were focused on each other Stu looked over at me and snapped me out of my thoughts, literally. The loud noise made me look up.

“Huh?” I asked, looking at the trio in front of me.

“The party (y/n), you in?” Tatum asked as Stu kissed her neck

“Yeah fine, whatever. I’m in,” I said as I walked up in front of them.

“Niiice,” Stu growled out, “Cool, you guys bring food, alright?”

I don't know what it was but Stu did something which prompted me to shout, “You’re being weird Stu!”

#scream 1996 #scream fanfic #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #stu macher x reader #billy x reader #scream #scream x yn #stu x reader #halloween

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