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#and it wasn't even a banshee
erismornsgf · 1 year
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really fascinated by the Clovis AI vs Clovis-1 (later Banshee-44). I know this has probably been discussed before but. the AI is an exact replica of Clovis Bray I's consciousness put into a giant exo body (the head, anyway), while Clovis-1 was a normal exo meant to be Clovis reborn/given a second life. but being a typical exo his memories were reset so he's like. no longer an asshole lol. like this is one of the first interactions he has after waking up (speaking to Elsie and the Clovis AI):
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[image ID: excerpt from the lorebook "Legacy's Lament" that says:
"Hold on there. You haven't gone through any initiation protocols. You're not ready," she says.
"If there are lives to be saved, that's where I need to be," the new guy replies. He's oddly determined.
"Where you need to be," the AI interjects, "is with your family. Me."
"Every instinct I have is telling me to reject you," the Exo retorts. Nice, new guy.
/End ID]
it's such an interesting contrast. here the original Clovis was hoping this exo was going to be an exact continuation of him. his life, his legacy, his research. that he'd continue to propagate the exos and make an army of them (if the Vex invasion + Collapse hadn't happened, anyway). Clovis is selfish and doesn't care if most of humanity dies because he just sees them as future exos. he wants everyone to be a product of his legacy. but Clovis-1 basically sacrifices himself 43 times to save people and help shut down the vex portal.
idk there isn't much of a point I'm trying to make here I just think it's an interesting study of how humanity isn't inherently evil and being untouched by the influence of the Darkness (and monopolistic capitalism lol), Clovis-1 is a good person. he even wished he could've kept his memory to help repair the broken relationship between him and his granddaughter, Elsie, but ofc after 43 resets he lost most of what made him Clovis (perhaps for the best).
references: Legacy's Lament lorebook, Clovis Bray's Logbook (missing pages)
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yonalilis · 1 year
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fangswbenefits · 5 months
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Unexpected
Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.
Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.
Word count: 2.2k
As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  
He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.
And today was one of those days.
You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.
Typical.
He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.
Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.
He expected fear or a screech.
But no.
She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.
Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.
“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.
You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”
He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.
He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”
Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.
“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”
He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.
As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.
Finally.
You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.
“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”
“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”
She chuckled alongside you.
He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”
Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.
“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”
Now that set him off.
“Actually, I have considered it.”
Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.
He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.
But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.
Especially with you being such the motherly type.
His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.
“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.
Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”
How he detested puns.
Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.
“You meant that?”
He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”
You nodded.
“I don't see why not.”
You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.
“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”
Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.
“We can.”
Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”
Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.
He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 
“It is possible.”
You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”
As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.
He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.
Just for him.
“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”
As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.
“Want what?”
The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.
He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.
“Do you want me to breed you?”
His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”
Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?
Gods above…
That only served to fuel his lust.
You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.
“What are you doing?”
He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 
Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”
He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.
“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”
You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.
“And how could you even do such a thing?”
Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?
He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”
Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.
You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.
From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.
The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.
It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.
Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.
You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.
He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.
The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.
With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.
He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.
“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.
But Astarion had something else in mind.
“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”
A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.
But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.
His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.
You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.
“There's a first time for everything, darling.”
Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.
“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.
Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.
He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.
Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 
As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.
Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.
Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.
Gods… you were so ready to be bred.
He could feel your arousal.
He could taste it on his tongue.
His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.
Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.
With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.
His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.
He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.
Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.
With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.
You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”
His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.
“There is only one way to find out, darling.”
You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.
Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.
“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”
Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.
His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.
He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.
Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.
From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.
“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.
You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.
Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.
“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.
Your mouth fell open but no words came out.
Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.
He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.
His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.
He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.
Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.
“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.
As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.
You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.
He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.
Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.
As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.
“Do you think it was enough?”
He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”
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cremepat · 1 year
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its so funny how the new year happens and im like “time to become the film girlie i was born to be” like as if something isn't as uplifting and straightforward and surface level as a 90s pixar short i don't start crying and become inconsolably depressed because life has no meaning suddenly
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bootlickerhawks · 2 years
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welp i just almost shredded my pinky with a bread knife how is everyone else's day going
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chaethewriter · 1 year
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You're dead to me [6]
dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader
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In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?
warning: english isn't my first language, barely proofread, i lowkey don't like this chap but it's cute, fluff and angst, silly siblings, sad Jake.
Word count: 3,1k
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Your flight back to high camp was amazing. Walking through the forest was something enchanting, out of a fairy tale, but the view from above was something so unrealistic. Colors of green, pink, and blue covered the ground beneath you, and the way the animals climbed the trees or flew just under you. You still couldn't believe where you were. You let go of the reins Neteyam told you to hold and you slightly get up from your seat, holding your body up as you tried to get a better view of everything around you. Neteyam frantically holds onto your arm, "sit down! You're going to fall!"
"As if you would let me fall, who will take care of my younger brother then?" You playfully hit him in the chest with your elbow. Lo'ak then came gliding next to the two of you, "bro! Did you already think of the excuse you're giving mom and dad by being late and bringing (Y/N) with us?" Neteyam groans in response, "I will think of something as an excuse. We are going to hide her in high camp until tomorrow morning by then." You huffed at his words, "hide me in high camp? What are you going to put me in? In a fucking woven bag?!" Lo'ak answered your question as a matter of fact, "I mean, you would easily fit in the bag?" You were ready to jump from Neteyam's Ikran right onto Loak's Ikran, ready to pounce on him. He might be your much younger brother, but you weren't afraid to fight the Na'vi right there and then. "Sis please!" Neteyam wraps his arm around your waist to pull you down, keeping you in place. Even though you were older than them, you had childish traits he thought you wouldn't have. Is this the effect of growing up early and finally feeling free? Would he get to experience that too one day?
As they approached high camp, the horns were heard through the night skies to notify the clan of a return, their return. Kiri facepalmed and looked at Neteyam, "well, there goes your plan. Ready to face the wrath?" His spine shuddered at the question, imagining the wrath of his mother if they took their sister to the clan, but they didn't have another choice now, did they? They couldn't leave you alone out in the open and you were supposed to get here tomorrow anyway, so might as well make you settle down, right? The three Ikrans land right at the opening of the mountains and your four Na'vi siblings climb off it with ease, meanwhile you struggle to get off the animal. You never rode a horse before, imagine a banshee ten times the size. Alright, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the banshees were huge compared to your human self. You huffed in embarrassment as you had a hard time getting off. You were one of the finest warriors and embarrassing yourself in front of a whole clan wasn't on your bucket list, definitely not. Neteyam held your legs as helped you down and you silently thanked him for doing so. The clan surrounded the five of you, standing in a half circle as they stared at you, either with curiosity or weariness. You felt watched, but not in a good way. You were a sky human after all, demon blood in their eyes. Neteyam stepped in front of you, half-shielding you from the prying eyes of his clan, "mawey Na'vi, mawey!" His chest puffed out as he spoke, shoulders broad. You watched him in awe. He was still a child, yet a fine warrior and respected by all. He would be such a good Olo'eyktan. The Na'vi made way as the Tsahik and her daughter passed through, moving to the front with ease as the clan parted like the red sea. You moved away from behind Neteyam, now standing right next to him as you brought your hand to your forehead, "Oel Ngati Kameie." You greeted Mo'at and Neytiri with respect once they were right in front of the crowd.
"I already expected your arrival, (Y/N) Sully." You're shocked that the Tsahik herself announced the news, just like that. The clan started whispering amongst themselves at the mention of the Olo'eyktan's last name and you felt yourself crumbling through the ground. Even Neytiri, your stepmother (?), looked surprised. You didn't know if that surprised expression was meant for the fact her mother announced it or the fact you're her mate's daughter. "I'm- thank you for having me." You bowed your head to show your gratitude, then your gaze traveled to Neytiri. She was already looking at you with those yellow eyes that had so much emotion hidden in them. You felt like she had a lot to say and you felt the same. "My people, mawey. Welcome (Y/N) Sully, daughter of the Olo'eyktan like she's one of our people. She's here to protect us from the dangerous sky demons." Mo'at had her back turned to you as she spoke to her people, emphasizing the fact that you're Jake Sully's child. If she did this to keep you safe, you are in debt to her. Yet, wouldn't something like this make it more complicated? Since you emotionally disowned him as your father? You did, right? You're getting pulled out of your thoughts by a hand harshly wrapping around your wrist. Your head turned to the person in front of you, it was Neytiri. She didn't say anything as she pulled you away from the crowd. Your breath hitched in your mask as you grew nervous, but you didn't complain. She didn't rip your head off, so she wanted to talk to you, right? Tuk looked after you as her mother pulled you away. She looked over at her big brother as she tugged his loincloth, "what is happening?" Tuk was still young, she didn't understand anything that was happening. "It's okay, Tuk! Let's get some food" Lo'ak patted her head, his hands running through her locks. Kiri nodded in agreement, taking Tuk's hand and pulling her to the fire to get their dinner. Neteyam looked after you as his mom and his sister entered their pod, hoping things wouldn't turn more complicated for you.
"Ma'am, what did you want to talk about?" You asked politely once you entered the pod, yet still tried to push her to get to the point. You still remembered how she acted when you taunted your father for questioning his parenting. Neytiri closed the flap of the entrance as she turned to you, cautiously walking over to you. Once she was close enough, she got on her knees for the height difference to not be too intimidating as she spoke, "You're my mate's daughter." You didn't know if it was a question or an extra form of confirmation, but you nodded your head yes. "And you're human." You nodded your head again. "I don't like you, you reek of demon blood." You rolled your eyes. You had to see that one coming."But tell me, child." Your head tilted to the side as you watched her in confusion. Tell her? Tell her what exactly? Neytiri could sense your confusion, so she continued explaining, "what happened, child. Tell your part." You knew it was a demand, yet you couldn't sense a lot of grudges. Her tone was stern and demanding, but not hateful. It was the voice of a wise woman, a wise mother. You decided to make yourself comfortable: taking a seat, sitting your butt on the soft woven carpets as you leaned against the wooden wall. "He was an amazing dad. He didn't see himself as it, but he tried. He tried for me and that's what made him amazing." You fiddled with your mask as you didn't know where to keep your hands, obviously nervous about telling Neytiri about all this. She nodded in understanding, taking a seat as well as she kept quiet to let you continue at your own pace. "Then he left so suddenly and he never returned. I had to hear from the people around me where he went. I waited for years and eventually gave up." Your hands were now lying in your lap as you moved your legs in a cross-legged position, much more comfortable than your last one, "until this day, I hold a grudge against him. He abandoned me, so I am giving him a taste of his own medicine." You didn't notice that your eyes were once again welling up with tears. Your left hand moved towards your mask to try and push it closer towards your face in an attempt to hide. Thank Eywa the mask wasn't transparent. Neytiri leaned towards you, even though she was very weary of you, she awkwardly extended her arm towards you to wipe your tears. Only for a few seconds as she pulled her hand away quickly, but your eyes still widened at the gesture, not knowing how to feel about all this, "you're a strong child with a strong heart, for a sky demon." She then got up and out of the pod. Now that you were finally alone, you once again got lost in your thoughts as you thought about your father.
Once Jake left to Eywa-knows-where, she turned to the backdoor of the pod, "I know you're there. All of you." Neteyam was the first to walk out with his ears flat against his head, followed by Lo'ak, Kiri and Tuk. She looked at her children with a sigh as they all held a guilty yet innocent facade up. "If she's dad's daughter, our sister.. would you hate her?" Lo'ak was the first to speak up. Neteyam wanted to honestly hit him on the back of his head for asking questions like that, but he continued, "she's putting her life in danger for us, therefore she's not so bad right? Dad would have wanted you to try if she's his." Those words hit Neytiri like a truck. Even if she hated sky demons, her mate used to be one and he changed a lot in just a few weeks. Why not her? Being the adorable girl that Tuk is, she chimed into the conversation, "Mom I want to meet her! Can I meet her? Another sibling yay!" Neytiri's canines pierced through her bottom lip as she thought. She still disliked you, also because you were a sky demon. She was conflicted with her feelings, but then she thought about Jake's sad expression. She would be willing to try, for him. Just like how he always tried for her.
From the corner of his eye, Lo'ak noticed how his mother left the pod, meaning you were alone now. At the same time, a horn went off, indicating an arrival. All their heads turned to the opening of the mountain, noticing a familiar ikran about to land. Their father. The four siblings exchanged a look and Neteyam spoke up, "Kiri get some fruits for her and get her away from there. Tuk, Lo'ak, and I will take care of dad. Go!" Kiri followed his orders as she ran to get some leftovers for you to eat, meanwhile, Neteyam immediately went to his father. Lo'ak crouched down to his youngest sibling, "Okay, so don't say anything about sis (Y/N) alright? Dad can't know yet, alright?" Tuk didn't really understand what he meant, but she just nodded as a response, "yes!"
"Sister (Y/N)?" You removed your face from your knees as you were sitting with your knees to your chest, "Oh Kiri, what's wrong?" She walked towards you with a bunch of fruits in her arms, "I got these for you." You chuckled at the small gesture, "thank you so much, but I hope you know I can't eat all that." She looked at the fruits in her arms, "I mean, rather too much than not enough, right? Come on, let's go to the Tsahik." It looked like she was in a rush and you raised your eyebrows at her, "Kiri, what's up? You look tense?" You got up from the ground. "Just follow me!" She already walked out before you could answer her, leaving you all confused and lost. But you obeyed her and followed suit after her.
"My children please just let me be for tonight, I'm tired." Jake wanted to be alone right now. His heart ached in his chest and his eyes were bloodshot red as his tears were drying up. He wanted to find Mo'at and talk to her. "We want to show you something, you must come!" Neteyam never asked something like this of his dad, not since he was ten years old. So this made him feel suspicious. "Yes! Tuk made something so beautiful and she wants to show it, right Tuk!" Lo'ak made up the quickest thing he could think of, eyes gazing down at Tuk who didn't know what to say. She glanced at Neteyam who nodded, so she looked into his eyes with determination, "Yes! You must follow us!"
You sat in Mo'at's tent as Kiri cut up some fruit for you. The moment the two of you entered the tent, she knew that you needed a moment for yourself and left the tent in your hands. You sat on one of the mats as Kiri sat next to you, cutting the fruits up for you to eat. You inhaled into your oxygen mask, letting the oxygen flow through your lungs before you removed the mask, took a piece of freshly cut fruit and popped it in your mouth, reattaching the mask to your mouth to gasp. Kiri watched you in awe as you chewed your food, "that's honestly so cool." She quickly finished up and put her hunter's knife back on her hip. "Eat well and rest up, alright? You got a long day ahead of you tomorrow." "Goodnight and thank you" the two of you exchanged a smile as she left the tent. You continued eating your pieces of fruit in peace, listening to the sound of the clan talking as their laughs filled the air. You popped a fruit in your mouth before reattaching your mask, smiling as you knew you made a good decision. They deserved to be protected.
"What is up with the three of you?" Jake grew frustrated at his children. They were standing in the pod for at least twenty minutes as the three rambled about the most bullshit subjects. "Do you know that I made this flower crown?" "Yes, you told me last week, Tuk." He tried once again to exit the pod, but Neteyam jumped in front of it as he scratched the back of his head, looking at Lo'ak for any other excuse. He was the best at pulling bullshit out of his ass after all. But also Lo'ak was quiet as his ears were pressed firmly against his head. "Well then, if you have nothing to say anymore. I have somewhere to be." His two sons stood there in defeat as they let their dad through, but then Tuk grabbed onto her father's hand, "no you can't!! (Y/N) will be upset if we let you go to her!!" Lo'ak immediately put his hand over Tuk's mouth as Neteyam coughed through that sentence, but unfortunately for them Jake already heard it. To check if he indeed heard that correctly, he crouched down to meet Tuk's gaze, "Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, remove that hand from your sister. Tuk, what did you say?" Her eyes were now also pressed against her head, knowing she said the wrong thing while trying to help her brothers, "uhm.. I said.." she felt overwhelmed as her dad continued to pressure her into telling, making her lips quiver. That was the point when Lo'ak had enough, "you are a terrible father you know that?!" The young Na'vi exploded as he yelled into his father's face. "You abandoned (Y/N) in the most terrible way possible! And now you suddenly crave forgiveness?! You need to earn that! You can't just go around yelling your 'sorries' while sobbing and not do anything?!" His fists were balled as his ears perked up, his tail standing tall, "she has a right to be upset and instead of sulking around you need to talk to her without the need to use your excuses!" And off he went. If he was a cartoon, the steam would have been leaving his ears. He needed to cool off. Neteyam watched his dad's expression falter, knowing Lo'ak was right with every word he said. He silently told Tuk to come with him, as he raised Tuk in his arms, holding her against his hip. "Did I do something wrong?" "No sweetheart, this needed to be done." And the two left the pod, leaving Jake all on his own as he stood still like a statue, painful breaths leaving his lips. He thought it was impossible, but more tears rolled down. Then he remembered Tuk's words. You're here, his daughter is here.
And he knew exactly where to check.
Jake moved from healer's tent to healer's tent. He knew that if you were hiding somewhere, it was somewhere in this area, the healing tents. He swiftly moved from tent to tent in search of your small frame. He eventually got to the biggest tent right in the middle, Mo'ats tent. He ripped the flap open and there you were, sleeping peacefully with the mask on your face to keep you alive. The skin under your eyes were stained with dried tears and a sob left his lips. "My baby.." he moved inside and closed to flap. He knew you didn't want to see him, especially if you woke up, but Lo'ak was right. He needed to try with all his might now, not with only his excuses and words, but also with his actions to show you that he cared for you, like a father. He quietly sat down next you, taking your small hand in his. You moved a bit in your sleep, making Jake tense in his movements, but then you stopped as you rolled a bit closer towards him, towards the warmth you felt. A genuine smile finally plastered his face, he felt at peace.
For now, he decided to enjoy this moment,
not knowing if it would be the last or not.
A/N: another update!! Hope you enjoyed!! And thank you so much for the followers, almost at 2k is a huge achievement! Tell me what you thought of this part. <3 now I'm gonna go ahead and work on my novella fr.
Taglist in the comments!!
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diaryofanidiot · 9 months
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The Experiments
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
Chapter list: Prologue, <1>, 2, 3, 4, 5
Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment
Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.
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Chapter One
"What the bloody fuck is this..." A gruff voice spoke. I slowly looked up with wide eyes and nearly shat myself at the sight.
A giant behemoth of a man in a skull mask stood still, his body language relaxed but on guard as he stared in my direction.
His boots clunked heavily on the floor as he approached me, his gun still held at the ready but not pointed in my direction. I couldn't see his face, but his frown was apparent in his voice.
"Mactavish, I've found something... or someone, rather." He said, tuning in on his radio. I never once took my eyes off of him, unsure of if he was even real or not. Perhaps I had already died and this was the grim reaper to take me away...
"I don't understand, L.T." A staticky voice came through his radio.
"A woman. In a cage."
"Last I checked this wasn't a sex dungeon." The voice on the radio had a Scottish accent, dripping with amusement.
"Not joking." The British skull faced man said gruffly. "Finish clearing out the building. Then get to the rendezvous. I'll meet you there."
"Copy."
As he finished giving his orders, he knelt down next to the cage. "Who are you?" He demanded.
I scrambled back in the cage until the bars pressed against my bare back. I tried to speak, but my voice only came out in cracks after long-term misuse.
"Ah. Gotcha." He seemed to understand, or maybe he simply thought I was a mute. I saw his eyes flicker up toward the label on the cage.
"Subject 237: "Banshee"." He read aloud. "Stay where you are. I'm opening this blasted thing." He warned. "Try anything and you're dead."
I nodded slowly, desperate to let him know that I understood English. My eyes never left him as he shot the lock on the cage, despite my flinching at the sound.
"Out you go." He demanded, his gun still at the ready. My knees protested in pain as I crawled toward the entrance of my cramped confinement. I had almost forgotten about the chain and collar around my neck.
I could see his eyes widen slightly as I crawled into whatever light the room had offered; they darted around my scarred naked form as he observed me.
"Fuck did they do to you..." He mumbled below his breath.
The chains length only went so far for me to get an inch of room past the cage door. He knelt down in front of me. My traumatized brain flashing danger signs with every movement.
"I won't hurt you." He said in a low tone, one hand coming up to reassure me. "Not unless you try to hurt me. Just need to take this off..."
His hand darted toward the chain around my neck, causing me to flinch at the rapid movement. I could hear him curse underneath his mask as he realized a key was needed.
"Wait. Here." He ordered, standing back to full height before he went to raid the dead corpses in search of the key. He found it on the assistant's body with impressive speed before walking back over and swiftly removing the steel collar that kept me in place.
I hissed in pain once more as the cold damp air hit the sores on my neck, my hand going up to rub them instinctively. His hand was on my wrist now, stopping me from rubbing.
"We should get a doctor on that. Or on you in general..." His gun was lowered now, seeing as I had made no room to attack him. "Do you have a name?"
Once his hand was off my wrist, I pointed a shakey finger toward the label on the cage. He shook his head at this. "No, that's what they called you. I mean a real name." He insisted.
I frowned and looked to the ground. I had one. Over the course of a year, somehow, it had fled my memory. Nobody called me it anymore anyway. I turned my gaze back toward him with an apologetic look.
He sighed. "No matter. It'll come back to you. Let's get you out of here."
He swiftly walked over toward the scientist and removed the lab coat from the corpse.
"Put this on." He demanded, handing it to me. I complied. The fabric swallowed my malnourished body as I looked down, as if just now realized how gaunt my once healthy body had become.
He seemed to be looking at me expectantly. My legs tried to hold me up, screaming in agony as I stood slowly with atrophied muscles. I stumbled, my knees slamming against the linoleum tile. I cringed in pain as they did.
"Fuck." I heard him say before I was lifted and thrown over his shoulder. "Let's get you out of here." I watched as he seemed to notice a file on the table... my file. He snatched it up quickly and stored it away before the same voice I had heard earlier came in on the radio.
"L.T., you copy?"
He spoke into his radio with a sense of urgency. "Aye."
"I'm at the Rendezvous point now. The building's cleared, so you should have a clear path as long as there's no stragglers."
"You have my appreciation." If it were possible to hear a smirk, you could swear he wore one under the mask.
"Get here safely, and you'll have mine, Sir."
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The radio went silent once more as I was carried out to the hall like a rag doll. Hell, I probably weighed less than one at this point. My eyes were wide as I saw all the death that littered the building.
Unable to push down the sick sense of satisfaction that came from seeing my tormentors dead on the ground, I managed the smallest hint of a smile. The first one I've worn in what seemed like forever.
The man on the radio was right. A path was completely cleared, seeing as my rescuer never once had to stop for any threats.
Until we exited the building, at least...
Gunshots were pouring out as my eyes adjusted to the rising sun, unaccustomed to the light. I felt my body thrown behind something as my rescuer took cover beside me, firing multiple shots.
Once my eyes adjusted, I blinked them open to see we were behind a set of barrels. I managed a small peak at our assailants before I was forced back behind the cover with an angry "stay."
I frowned as he continued making his shots before requesting backup. I guessed the soviets really didn't want him escaping this one with how many men were sent.
Opening my mouth to try to speak, my voice cracked and strained severely. "Ears..." I mustered. I saw his eyes flicker to me for half a second before refocusing on his targets.
"Ears." I tried again, miming for him to cover them.
"Noise reduction headphones, kid." He said gruffly. It was then I noticed that his ears were already covered.
I glanced back once more, placing a hand on his arm to prepare him slightly as I gathered all the strength I could.
I screamed. The supernatural-esque sound reached nearly two hundred decibles, equivalent to a large bomb. I heard glass shattering and the sounds of people crying out in pain. My throat was raw by the time I let my screaming fade to an end.
The enemy gunfire ceased, and even the man beside me looked temporally disoriented. He grunted as he got his bearings back and shot those writhing on the ground in pain. They weren't wearing ear protection, I noted, finally looking up from my spot behind the steel barrels. They must've been deployed in a hurry.
Once the waves of gunfire ceased, I heard a shuffling motion and a click beside me. My rescuers gun was now to my head.
I looked at him with wide, fearful eyes as he stared me down.
"What the fuck are you?" He demanded. I flinched, but the scream had left my throat too damaged to speak. I could only croak out a few sounds, none of them enough for form even a single word.
"Don't. Move." He demanded, pulling out the file he had snatched earlier from its space between his vest and his chest.
I watched him with unblinking eyes as he opened it. "Are you even human anymore?" He asked seemingly to himself as he scanned the front page of the file.
Something he read caught his eye before his gaze landed on my frightened expression once more. "Show me your teeth."
Hesitantly, I opened my mouth. The barrel of his gun moving to pull my lip back further. I could've sworn I stopped breathing as he revealed the pair of sharp fangs that had been surgically fastened to my canines. His eyes then lowered to my throat. Underneath the sores was a jagged surgical scar where they had altered my vocal chords.
I couldn't read his expression due to his mask, and his eyes said nothing.
"You scream like that again and I'll kill you." He stated matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to care that I just gave him a major advantage against his enemies. I watched him cancel the request for backup before I was thrown over his shoulder once more.
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The Rendezvous wasn't far; he experienced no more hiccups in getting me there. I blinked as I observed the abandoned factory, the floor creaking with each of his heavy steps.
I felt my weak body stumble as I was set down on the floor. I winced in pain before a new set of footsteps approached.
"Good to see ya, Sir." The voice that once cracked through radio waves was now just in front of me. I looked up to put a face to a voice. This man wasn't masked, I managed to get a good look at his face.
"Sergeant." The tense tone in my rescuer's voice was gone now as he greeted the other. I listened in as he updated his teammate on the situation.
"Experiments?" His Scottish accent was thick with confusion. His attention turned to me as he knelt down to my place on the ground. He seemed to be observing me, a slight crease between his eyebrows as he did.
Not a trace of fear entered his eyes even once as he looked at me. "Call me Soap, lass."
I blinked at his friendliness, a stark contrast to the other man's battle hardened tone.
"That over there, That's Ghost. He's the one who got you out of there." Soap's hand went to his hip as he unlatched something from his vest and held it out to me. "You'll probably be wanting this."
It took a minute for me to realize what was in his hands but once it clicked, I snatched the canteen quickly and fumbled it open. I heard him chuckle as I drank greedily, the room temperature water doing wonders for my dry throat.
"Slow your roll and don't drown yourself." He lightly lectured as I pulled away in a coughing fit once my greed bit me in the ass by sending water down the wrong pipe.
I watched him turn to Ghost, a quizzical look in his eyes. "She doesn't appear dangerous."
"Appearances can decieve." Was Ghost's response. "Show him your teeth."
I cringed at having to go through this again before I bared my fangs hesitantly. "She was heavily altered. I'm assuming they were creating human weapons."
"That all?" Soap scoffed, seemingly not intimidated. Ghost shook his head.
"They called her Banshee. Her vocal cords are altered as well. I watched her practically burst the eardrums of five enemy soldiers. Hell, nearly had my own eardrums bleeding."
Soap nodded and took the canteen back as I handed it to him. "She's so scrawny. How long have you been there?" He asked me.
Ghost placed a hand on his shoulder. "Her voice is fried. Gonna have to get back to the compound and have a more thorough look at her file. Where are the others?"
Soap stood to his full height. "Gaz and Price are clearing out another facility nearby. They should be here soon."
A new voice called out, turning the heads of all three of us.
"Soon? Try now."
The two strangers, we'll at least strangers to me, walked up. The older man looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite identify before speaking.
"Ghost.... fill us in."
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Typos? In my fanfic? Liar. (Pls point them out to me as we don't do roughdrafts in this household. We die like Roach here 🫡)
A/N: thank you all for the love this got from just the Prologue alone <3 sorry if anything feels off. I'm a secondhand fan and never touched the games lol.
Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months
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DC x DP fic idea: Lex Luther's youngest
Lex Luther will admit that his attempt to clone Superman had failed because he gave Superbo far too much free will. He may have lost the lab and a few scientists, but he still had the receipt in his head.
Yes, Superboy's creation was considered a miracle, but there is no such thing in science. He was sure he could recreate the experiment.
He just needed to ensure this one would have less world knowledge. Keep the weapon a weapon by providing it never thought of itself as anything else.
So he got to work. He blended his DNA with the small remaining samples he had of Superman. It was frustrating to see ninety-nine failed attempts to get the cloning right. Lex was on the last of his piece when he almost gave up, choosing to hype up everything in a last desperate attempt.
He placed it in the tube, left it to process overnight, and when he returned, there was a full teenager in the pod- now glowing green for some reason? Lex pauses, surprised beside himself, before fierce pride overcomes him.
He did it. He's completed his second clone all on his own.
Lex had only a few seconds to celebrate before the experiment jerked awake, and the bluest set of eyes he's ever seen stared back at him. It should be aware later in this stage. Then again, it shouldn't be this grown, either.
The clone screams.
Its voice slams against the glass that should have held against any full Kryptonian and shatters it. Lex throws himself behind one of the counters, feeling the waves of power wash over him.
It shakes the whole underground lab, threatening to bring down the roof over their heads, and Lex can do nothing but cover his ears and press himself against the ground.
The clone is wailing like a haunting banshee. He wasn't even aware Kryoptonian could do this.
The noise dies down. Lex glances over the counter only to find the clone on its hands and knees, gasping for breath. He reaches for the lead box in his pocket, mindful of the clone's every movement.
He'll put it back to sleep with some kryptonite, then place it back in its pod to have its mind molded into the perfect weapon. The experiment springs to his feet as his fingers close around the box. Lex pulls it out and flips open the lid as the clone's eyes lock with his.
Its eyes are green and glowing. Fascinating.
He watches as it starts to waver, tilting dangerously to the side, and smirks, knowing the rock is working. Calmly he walks over; the clone raises its hands in two tight fists, a frown on its face. "None of that now."
He presses the kryptonite against its chin to teach it a lesson. Pian will be the best teacher, and it will learn to obey every command of Lex or face severe consequences. The clone looks down, gaps, and then bites the kryptonite. Cleanly enjoying the flavor as it chews and hums, eyes closing in blessed like Lex had just fed him the highest quality chocolates.
Lex's soft "What the fuck" was very warranted.
"Thanks for the food, Mister." The clone chirps after going for another bite. It smacks its lips, then in a bizarre turn of events, it holds out its hand for a shake. "I'm Danny, by the way. What's your name?"
Lex kept staring at it before slowly taking the offered hand and pumping it up and down. He's not sure if this is real anymore. Maybe he was still asleep?
"This is the part where you tell me your name." The clone says after a while of handshaking. It shifts on its feet clearly with far too much personality, but not one Lex created. Not even one that was influenced. It was literally made last night.
"You know what. This sort of feels like a FruitLoop-level situation, so I will go. Have fun with whatever this is." The clone says, gesturing to the area around them while stepping backward. Lex opens his mouth to tell it there is no escape when it goes through the wall.
Density shifting!? But that was a power of Martian Manhunter, and Lex knows he had not even gotten close to that DNA yet.
He quickly grabs his tablet, clicking on the security cameras of his home, watching the clone fly through all his walls- flying as simple as walking, but not like Superboy, who picked himself up with telekinesis, or Superman, who pushed against gravity but flying as if though he was swimming with the airflow.
The young clone found the last wall and flew out of his home, far above his property, disappearing into the sunset with a black and green blur in his wake.
Lex leans back, putting down the tablet now that he cannot watch the clone and its obvious awareness of its surroundings. How had it learned all of that?
The mystery didn't get in the way of the most important fact: His youngest seemed to be very talented.
Maybe he would treat it like a person if only to keep him here to study. He had to get to Danny- before the rest of the Justice League could and bring the boy into his fold as the perfect heir that Kon refused to be.
How hard could it be to get Danny on his side?
(Danny punched his way into a new dimension after escaping from the burning remains of Amity Park. His parents, sister, and friends fell in battle trying to keep humans and ghosts safe after the GIW started a war with the zone.
After losing his hometown, he led the spirits to victory once the GIW labeled all citizens as too contaminated and ripped away their rights. His town's survivors were at his side, fighting for the ones they lost.
Once they beat the GIW, the government was informed of the small civil war and disbanded the department. It was a hollow victory- their apologies and promises to rebuild would never bring back the ones he lost.
In his grief- and fear of becoming Dan- he went to Clockwork, who only shook his head and told him time was flowing correctly. He then went to FrostBite, who, after listening to the broken King, offered him a home among his people. Danny lived with the Far Frozeen for three years when he was offered a position on the exploration team that would map out the Ghost Zone.
Only the elites of the elites were allowed among them. He accepted. He was given a watch, a magical journal to record what he saw, and feast as a far well.
He then flew through the first uncharted portal, punching the barrier between worlds and bursting into a new universe where he would record and report back to the Far Frozen after five years of living among the natives.
Turns out, flinging himself at the barrier of reality took a lot of power, so when he got to the other side, he promptly passed out. He found himself inside a large tube, contaminating the water with his ectoplasm, and when he woke, it was to a bold man standing outside his box with greed in his eyes.
Danny used the ghostly wail out of instinct. Which may have been overkill since the man offered him frozen ectoplasm after almost passing out again for using what little he had acquired during his nap.
Maybe one day he'll see him again and say thanks. For now, Danny had a new world to explore. )
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yameoto · 5 months
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Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?
FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.
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✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k
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THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.
the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.
(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)
but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.
"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.
"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.
"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.
"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.
"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.
"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.
unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.
a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.
"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.
"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.
jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—
"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."
as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.
"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"
any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.
jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.
the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.
"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.
well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.
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What did Andrew Lloyd Webber do to make Patti Lupone upset? Sorry, saw your tags and i was curious
Oh.
Oh honey.
You sweet child.
Anyway, get ready for one of the most infamous showdowns in all musical theatre history, with the guy who writes the straightest musicals on Broadway (derogatory) and the one and only, the matriarch, the queen, two three-time Tony award winner Patti LuPone.
So, Andrew Lloyd Webber was basically kind of a boy genius in his prime - he met his future collaborator Tim Rice when they were 17 and 20 respectively, he wrote his first big hit, Jesus Christ Superstar, at 22, with Tim Rice writing the lyrics. And it was kind of a big deal at the time because the topic was controversial (you know, the Passion with rock music), but also because Broadway wasn't that far off from its golden age and let's just say the music and style were very different from, say, My Fair Lady. Or The Sound of Music. Or Funny Girl. It was basically the Rent/Hamilton of its time. (Yeah, Stephen Sondheim was around at that time, he worked on West Side Story which was revolutionary in of itself, but he's kind of an oddball in this case. You'll understand why later.)
Their real follow up (I'm not counting Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat for a variety of reasons) was a little musical called Evita, which you might know mainly because of a song called Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Or at least, your mom has probably heard it once at the very least. It's that song that's oversung from a musical while being out of context along with I Dreamed a Dream for Les Misérables. Or Memory from Cats.
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Evita tells the story of Eva Peron, the wife of an Argentinian dictator, who basically screws her way to the top and ends up becoming the mistress of Juan Peron and the most beloved woman in her country through guile and deceit. Yes, I know the historical accuracy is very much debated but I know jackshit about Argentina's history except the bare basics so don't come at me. It was first produced in the West End in London, with Elaine Paige in the role, but because of Equity issues, she couldn't reprise her role for the Broadway production. So a Julliard graduate who was mostly starring in David Mamet plays got the part instead, and that was Patti LuPone.
Patti... did not have a good time during Evita, because the part is basically the kind of score where you can tell the composer is used to writing male parts, but most female singers have a two-octave range (yes, you got Julie Andrews who used to have a three-octave range, and many others, but they're exceptions), so she struggled a lot. That being said, if you listen to live recordings of her, you wouldn't be able to tell, and it got a lot easier later on. But she had this to say:
"Evita was the worst experience of my life. I was screaming my way through a part that could only have been written by a man who hates women. And I had no support from the producers, who wanted a star performance onstage but treated me as an unknown backstage. It was like Beirut, and I fought like a banshee."
This is from Patti's autobiography, which she wrote in 2007 - 8 years after shit with ALW went down. With all that said, she won a Tony Award for Evita, and she pretty much became a musical theatre household name from then on. She played Fantine in Les Misérables, Nancy in Oliver!, Reno Sweeney in Anything Goes. Meanwhile, ALW's next big hits were Cats (I'm not even kidding, Cats was a hit), and, you guessed it, The Phantom of the Opera, which he wrote in part to showcase his then wife Sarah Brightman's triple threat talents.
So, you need to understand before I continue that ALW, from my perspective, has always had a bit of an inferiority complex. He's basically associated to writing these commercially successful musicals that show a big spectacle but aren't ultimately substantial. I'm not sure I entirely agree with that, but I do think that if he didn't have Hal Prince, Maria Bjornson, Charles Hart and Gillian Lynne backing him up for Phantom, it would have probably been a Rocky Horror Picture Show knockoff people would have forgotten about pretty quickly. This is what I mean:
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Yep, that was Phantom before any of the people I mentioned above (and Michael Crawford) were really involved.
Remember how I said Stephen Sondheim was an oddball? The thing with him is that his musicals weren't always commercially successful, but in general, in part thanks to being Leonard Bernstein's protégé, he was generally pretty well-respected and it was considered that his work was bringing musicals to a whole other level. Without Sondheim, you wouldn't have Jonathan Larson, and you wouldn't have Lin-Manuel Miranda. I am convinced ALW is resentful of that, and when you stop and think about it for more than 10 seconds, it's so obvious he REALLY wants to be Sondheim or at least command the same level of respect, but that's a story for another day.
So, after Phantom, ALW had other musicals that followed that either got a meh reception or outright flopped. Then there was Sunset Boulevard, which is based on the movie of the same name with Gloria Swanson. Despite all of her griefs for Evita, Patti LuPone agreed to partake in the musical as Norma Desmond, for its production in London, with the promise that she would transfer to Broadway once that production would open. And overall, after a string of flops, Sunset was actually doing pretty well.
HOWEVER. One day, while reading the gossip column of a newspaper, Patti found out that contrary to what she was promised, Glenn Close, who was meanwhile starring as Norma in the Los Angeles production, was to play Norma on Broadway. That was a complete surprise for her since no one on the production team had bothered to tell her it was happening - and keep in mind that for the news to come up the way it did in a gossip column, it probably would have necessitated a delay of a few weeks between the producers and the newspaper, which would have given them plenty of time to break the news to Patti. And Patti kind of needed the leg up because she was pretty bitter that a) Madonna was cast in the Evita adaptation instead of her; b) they actually lowered the key to fit Madonna's voice range, and she still had to expand her own to be able to sing the (lowered) score. And trust me, Patti is mad about it to this day.
So of course, she trashed her dressing room, the cast and crew weren't even mad about it because they were as shocked and angered as she was by the news. Patti sued Andrew Lloyd Webber for breach of contract, namely for 1 MILLION DOLLARS (yup, those are the real numbers), won, used the money she got from the lawsuit to get a swimming pool, which she called (and I SHIT YOU NOT) the Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool. Since then, Webber is dead to her, to the point rumor has it she had part of a building blocked during an event so she could get out of it without coming across Webber, because she hates him so flipping much she doesn't even want to be in the same building as the guy.
(There's also drama that happened with Faye Dunaway who was supposed to replace Glenn Close after she went from Los Angeles to Broadway, except they abruptly closed the show down after Close left, but that's a story for another day)
So with all the bad press, and with ALW forced to pay 1 million dollars for Patti's lawsuit, that led Sunset's productions to close earlier than expected. ALW has stayed around since, with... mitigated output, so to say. The lowest point for a lot of people is Love Never Dies, the sequel to Phantom, which some people love, and that's fine, but it didn't do well with either critics nor fans of the original show, which ALW is EXTREMELY BUTTHURT ABOUT. And like, there are so many stories I could tell about LND alone, but I will share my own crack theory about it, since it does relate to the ask.
Anyway, buckle up.
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So. There have been jokes going around for years that the Phantom in LND is basically ALW's self-insert, where he displays to the world that he's totally not over Sarah Brightman leaving him (in part because making Phantom kinda ruined their marriage lmao), despite, you know, having married since. (Aaaaaakward.) So LND basically becomes this really uncomfortable therapy session where a man writes a self-insert musical about how his ex-wife made a big mistake of leaving a sensitive artistic soul such as himself. The characters from Phantom who appear in LND are all more or less unrecognizable as a result, and one who gets it worse (in my humble opinion) is Meg Giry, who was basically Christine's sweet and loyal ballerina friend who basically went into the Phantom's lair on her own to save her friend despite the danger. In LND, she's basically a bitter hag (because ALW hates women, guess Patti was right about that), who really likes the swim and even has a stripping vaudeville number about it, written in universe by the Phantom, no less.
For comparison, here's Don Juan Triumphant (the Phantom's opera in the original):
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And here's Bathing Beauty (the vaudeville number):
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Yeah, so... do you see why people hate LND already?
And that's not the only thing with Meg! She's also pining for the Phantom to pay attention to her and threatens to drown the Phantom and Christine's secret love child when he makes it clear that he's gonna love Christine for EVA AND EVA.
So, with everything we learned today about ALW, would someone like him view someone like Patti LuPone as some sort of crazy, bitter diva who's obsessed with him for whatever reason? Absolutely. Would he be petty enough to insert Patti LuPone into his self-insert musical, which gave us the version of Meg Giry we got in LND? Of course. Why does Meg love to swim so much and why does she drag Gustave out ostensibly for a swim? Is it a dig at Patti's Andrew Lloyd Webber Memorial Pool? Maybe.
I kind of hope we find out one day if that theory is true. And maybe start a kickstarter so Patti can add this painting from the 2004 movie in her collection.
Fun fact: during the process of casting for the 2004 movie adaptation of POTO, ALW allegedly suggested Patti LuPone to play Carlotta... only for Joel Schumacher to have to awkwardly remind him that they were not on speaking terms. The idea was therefore promptly dropped.
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mastercherry · 13 days
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Yet another Sterek idea.
So in this one.... The Hale family left Beacon Hills after the fire. They were called to protect another territory and another Nemeton. It worked out because being in the area where they were almost killed off entirely wasn't going to be great.
So Beacon Hills is unprotected until a family of Kitsune take over its protection. It's peaceful until their daughter gets caught up with a rogue alpha werewolf who turns her previously human boyfriend.
And that's how Scott and Stiles are initiated into the world of the Supernatural. Through a series of crazier and crazier situations, Stiles becomes the alpha of Beacon Hills.
Even though he's a human.
The Beacon Hills pack is bizarre to say the least. A human, a bitten wolf, a kitsune, a hunter, a kanima, and a banshee. Not to mention the veterinarian witch doctor, the hellhound deputy, and who knows what else.
Derek, his sister Laura, and their Uncle Peter are the Hale pack representatives sent to the United Packs Alliance meeting in the middle of the country. It's a meeting held every 3 years. EVERYONE has heard about the human alpha. For the first time in UPA history, every pack in the continent has sent in at least one pack member to see this bizarre event.
Everyone is gathered in a magically enlarged meeting space in an average sized hotel conference space when the Beacon Hills pack arrives. Late.
Being late would be noticeable enough but the electricity in the air is something no one could ignore. There's something powerful here.
When the doors open they just reveal a very normal pair of guys. A human and a wolf. But when all eyes shift to them, the human's eyes flash a very bright and brilliant red.
All Derek can think is.... Oh no, he's hot.
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hotchsofficialwifey · 6 months
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okay hear me out... mike schmidt with goth!fem!reader (be warned: i'm not goth so this might not be very accurate lol)
he met you while he was working at the mall, eyed you from across hot topic. despite your intimidating black clothes, chains, and eye makeup, you had one of the sweetest smiles he'd ever seen, instantly drawing him to you. you said good morning to the worker with one of those perfect smiles and he immediately felt butterflies in his stomach.
he started hanging out at the hot topic more frequently. he began to pick up on your schedule, too. you'd usually come on Saturday's between 12-3pm, circle through the food court and your favorite stores (one time he even caught you at Victoria's Secret, but didn't go in, for obvious reasons). he felt a little creepy, but it wasn't like he was stalking you, just keeping you safe (this was his bullshit excuse). some part of you was simply magnetic, pulling him in like a siren, wrapping him around your finger so tightly he never wanted to be let go.
after a few weeks or so of this same routine, he got fired for beating up a man in broad daylight, and had to get a shitty job at Fazbear's Pizzeria. the only part of that job he missed was you, but his yearning would soon come to an end. he went on various apps, websites, whatever he could to find a babysitter for abby while he was at work, when he found your profile on one of the apps. you were around his age, lived in the same town, and were looking for a job as a babysitter. perfect! he got in contact with you shortly after, and you were fast to reply. you set up a day, time and location, and the next night you were there, knocking on his door.
it was as if the closer he got to you, the prettier you were. pink lips overlined with black liner, flared black jeans paired with a Siouxsie and The Banshees t-shirt, eyeliner so sharp it could probably poke him and black converse covered in doodles. you were more casual than usual, obviously, but god, you were beautiful. you hit him with one of your dazzling smiles, introduced yourself to him and abby (abby instantly liked you), and he went off to work, the scent of your sandalwood perfume on his mind.
you got closer over the months you babysat abby. he came home early in the morning, but you always made breakfast (not only were you beautiful, but amazingly sweet). he didn't pay you as consistently as you originally hoped he would, but you were begin to grow a crush on him, so you didn't really mind. it got to the point where you two even exchanged numbers, using work as an excuse, but you mostly talked and sent memes to each other. but what he admired most about you is how good you were with abby. you guys drew together, watched cartoons together, laughed together, you even did tarot readings for her. abby would fill him in on every little detail of your night together, start to finish. she adored you, and you adored her, which only made him fall harder for you.
the love confession was unexpected, but really sweet. he had invited you over for dinner before he went to work, which he often did, but after you put abby to bed and sat down on the couch with him...
"thanks for everything you do for us." he blurted suddenly. your face suddenly felt very warm, and you bashfully replied.
"it's no big deal, really. i like spending time with abby..." fuck it, you thought. "and with you." you stared at each other for a moment, tension in the air, before he kissed you. slowly, softly, easing you into it. it got heated quickly, and one thing left to another, and he was forty minutes late for work (but it was so worth it).
a/n: okay, this wasn't as focused on the goth part as I wanted it to be, but wtvr. i'll be doing headcannons for goth!reader later!! for now, here's some backstory lol
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obsessed with the idea of seelie faerie prince gojou, as charming and as tricksy as all fae are. his snow-white hair eye catching and his azure eyes like gems pressed into his flesh
seelie prince satoru whose very birth shook faerieland as foretold by the stars red, blue and purple stars that soared through the sky the night of his birth
seelie prince satoru who is much more observant than his penchant for revels and merrymaking belies
seelie prince satoru who relishes in obnoxiously getting under the skin of the gentry of his court with his radical ideas that challenge the traditions that have been established for centuries
seelie prince satoru whose court is filled with political strife between three major families- the gojou, zenin and kamo. and it's really just his look this particular luck that he's bleeding out after a particularly harrowing attempt on his life. must have been that petty bastard naoya but in this particular moment, numb from poison and with a bloodied torso it really isn't going to do him any good trying to figure out who sent the now dead assassin after him
he won't die from this, he's been developing an immunity to poison. but even so, this is tough on his body as he sits in a misty forest waiting for the poison to wear off on his body with the scent of iron strong in the air
that's when he sees something that any faerie would consider the worst omen ー he sees you.
faeries are immortal folk. unless someone goes out of their way to kill them, they never die. it's what makes them stronger, far further creatures than humans with their insect-length lifespans
seelie prince satoru who even with his eyes, it's difficult seeing you clearly with poison muddling his senses but he sees the tell-tell white hair and gray skin and he knows you're a banshee
seelie prince satoru who chuckles humorlessly as he accepts that apparently, his luck has run out
he's sure of this as you slowly come closer and closer until he sees you much more clearly. your eyes are bloodshot, as to be expected of your kind. but your eyes might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. they're a pale lilac and your pupils are a ghostly white, shockingly light against the reds of your eyes but even that looks beautiful. he never cared particularly for the color red before but in this moment he can understand why red caps crave the color so and satoru thinks that if he is going to hear those damning cries that will seal his fate in this instant, he's glad it's you
banshees were human women that died in grief, right? that died tragedy before the grace of the gods turned them fae. death is a beautiful look on you but he wonders what you'd look if you were still colored in the shades of life that once blossomed over you like spring blooms
and so you part your lips... but rather than wail and scream, announcing to the headless riders of faerie that death is near, death is coming for gojou satoru your eyebrows knit in worry and you ask
"are you alright?" as you kneel by his side, reaching for his wounds carefully. your voice is honestly akin to hearing birdsong in the night, a juxtaposition he wasn't prepared for. "here, let me help you"
apparently the seelie prince's luck is greater still. death won't come for him yet. instead, he's become a hypocrite. an unintelligent hypocrite but he can't quite seem to make himself care in this instance when he is tended to by your cold but gentle touch and your lark-like voice drips like honey from your lips.
whether it's folk or mortal, satoru likens love to a curse that makes those around him stupid. a curse that leads to betrayals, war and frankly too much strife he desires to deal with
yet in this moment, that very curse seemed to course through his veins
stupid is as stupid does, seelie prince satoru's lips part and he asks you as if enraptured in a spell "please marry me and i'll love you more faithfully than any man, fae or otherwise"
as for you... you're simply a banshee who just happened to be in this forest when you spotted an injured elf in the distance and decided to see if he'd accept your help if he didn't outright lose his mind in fear at the sight of you. you think he might have considering the words that left his mouth
it must be the blood loss talking
unfortunately for you and much to the aggravation of suguru and kento, seelie prince satoru's most trusted advisors, satoru was very much serious and fervently keeps referring to you as his future queen when you haven't even accepted the proposal
seelie prince satoru who insists you stay in his palace, at the very least until after a revel in a few moons time he wishes to throw in your honor. as thanks for treating his injuries which are still healing, might he add. anything could happen, what if a banshee needs to herald his death and one isn't around? he would also like the time to woo you over. please? just until then
seelie prince satoru who ignores the ardent whispers that it is bad luck for a banshee to be so close the prince. that insist that death fae are like roaches. surely if one appears, there will be more banshee and dullahan that follow
seelie prince satoru who coldly states that any such insult toward the woman who saved his life will find those who said them hearing the chilling cries they so fear sooner than they'd enjoy
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nelkcats · 1 year
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The Banshee, a JL mystery
A foreign case was being discussed by the Justice League, in general it was not bad, just rare.
It began a couple of months ago, a tourist had come to Star City, but he did not visit the city, he did not even register, he just pop out of nowhere, went to the cemetery, and apparently the cameras recorded him placing flowers in all the tombs and talking with the air or with some of the people engraved in the stones, they were not sure of it.
The strange thing was that the cameras around him were always corrupted, they needed the JLD to even stabilize the image, and ¿was that not worrying? They assumed that something supernatural was following him, the boy looked strictly human, but even the trackers that they tried to put were damaged around him.
Unfortunate for the entire league, although they had the guy features, the image was not clear enough for facial recognition.
The corrupted sound of the camaras sounded like a wail, or a cry, Constantine commented it remembered him to a banshee, so they started to call him "The Banshee" even if Zatanna told them Banshee were strictly women, it stayed.
The wave of visits continued, the boy went through Central City, Metropolis, Washington, Gotham, but it was later where something relevant happened again.
Jason was visiting his own grave when he noticed the boy, he tells, he cared because the young man seemed disconsolate looking at the graves, even yearning if that had some sense.
"Did you know him?" It may be the case of B, but it still had him intrigued. Also, the guy was looking at his grave, he felt like he have the right to ask.
"No, but you could say I already did" the boy sighed, stroking the stone of the tomb "I would also like it-..." Danny stopped, he should not be telling his problems to the owner of the tomb "Ah, no matter, it's good to know he was loved"
Jelousy, the reason why Danny visited the cemeteries was to calm himself, surrounded by what he wants but can not occur, to cry as no one cried for him, Clockwork always said that a part of him died at the moment nobody pay attention to his death, and ¿wasn't that funny?
"¿How do you know?" If someone asked Jason, he would affirm that it was uncomfortable to talk about himself as if he was still dead, but he couldn't do anything about it now.
"Well, he's buried and has a proper resting place, they keep bringing him flowers even though the inside of his grave is empty, you can see the recently removed earth; Many of the dead don't have that luxury, their bodies left somewhere, the missing people were never given a proper burial, I don't know man, ghosts can't build their own graves ¿you know?" He was probably ranting and he knew it, but Danny was tired, he wanted that too, and it was such a stupid rule not to be able to give himself his own resting place, but he wasn't going to burden Jazz, Sam, or Tucker with giving him a funeral.
It was the reason he did this, why he visited cemeteries, laid flowers and talked to the resident ghosts, he wanted to know the feeling, wanted to know what he had lost, wanted to be mourned too.
"Anyway, nice to meet you Nosaj Ddot, be a little grateful for what you have, ¿okay? I know some who would kill for it" he smiled ruefully, starting to pick up his basket of flowers, he had already made his rounds anyway. It was probably time to go back to Amity Park.
"¿Nosaj? What are you talking about-" but the boy was already gone, disappeared into thin air, his communications re-established at the same moment that he noticed his damaged tracker right next to the grave, a short circuit.
"The banshee ¿uh?, he sure is an interesting guy, maybe the League is really onto something this time."
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zeewritez · 3 months
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The Sailor and The Samurai - I
Mizu x Femme Shipmate/Pirate Reader
Hi my lovelies! I haven't updated in so long and I'm sorry but college has been kicking my ass. (Why tf am I studying biochemistry - because I hate myself). Anyways, I hope to update my other stories soon (I've had chapters for months now, they just need to be edited lol). So for now, here's a little BES fic because I'm in love with this show :)
(Notes: Reader's father is Irish in the fic but she will not be described physically except for having super long curly hair because I like projecting my hair goals onto stories, also I will be using he/him pronouns for Mizu since they are currently being perceived as a man.)
Part 2 now out
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Y/n woke up with a splitting headache from the rum she had the previous night. She made a note to self to not attempt to out drink her father, even if he was pushing 60. Rolling out of her cot, she slipped on a blouse and trousers she had acquired from a crew mate at some point. They barely fit, but it was far better than the dresses and corsets she wore whenever they docked back home.
She walked onto the deck just in time to watch over the vast ocean as they approached the isolated island of Japan. She'd been there many times in her career but had only ever been to the ports to assist with loading goods when the crew needed it. Today, there was no need. Instead, she watched with mild curiosity from the crow's nest as crates were loaded onto The Banshee.
The cargo seemed standard: silks, swords, exotic fish. The things nobles in England dreweld over. Yet the passengers were anything but standard. Y/n could barely believe her eyes when the infamous Abijah Fowler was brought on board with guards on each side of him. He was brought to the detention cell, which would have otherwise been used when her father was tired of a crewmate's drunken antics.
Y/n was so taken aback by Fowler's presence she nearly missed the passenger behind him: a young man, a few years older than y/n herself, clad in Japanese garb and yellow glasses. It seemed odd to her, as it was rather overcast outside but she didn't give it a second thought. What she was truly curious about was why Abijah Fowler was on their vessel.
As the ship took sail, she climbed down from the nest and made her way to the detention cell with a curious, if not mischievous, grin.
"I never thought you'd be joining us for London," she teased as she stood outside of his cel, as though dangling her freedom like a carrot. She did not like Fowler one bit, but she found him almost as amusing as she found him vile. Entertainment was hard to come by at sea, so who could really blame her?
"Well I for one am always happy to see you," he said, grabbing her hand through the bars and kissing her knuckles. She rolled her eyes as she pulled her hand back from him.
"What brings you back to the isle?" she asked. "My father doesn't even enjoy England, and he's still in good standing, legally speaking."
"Perhaps he's a better Irishman then me," Fowler said with a shrug. "What does it matter to you?"
The girl looked up in faux innocence. "Oh, I'm just curious."
"Well, why don't you hunt down the samurai that's on board and he can let you know why I'm going back to London," Fowler finally told her. "You've picked up quite a bit of Japanese, haven't ya?"
"Alright, I'll see you around then," she said as she turned to leave.
"You have your mother's rear!" He shouted out, as though y/n had forgotten why she had disliked the man so much. She said a silent prayer thanking the heavens he wasn't roaming freely as she roamed the ship looking for the mysterious man with glasses, which was simple enough.
He stood on the poop deck, staring out onto the ocean, as anyone who has ever treaded water has. The waters had a way of commanding one's attention.
"Hello good sir," the young woman greeted she climbed the stairs, stopping to curtsey out of habit. She'd managed to have some resemblance of good manners despite being raised at sea by a captain with a drinking habit.
The young man stared at her, which was a common response from many men upon seeing her for the first time, regardless of national origin. In fact, Englishmen seemed most taken aback by her appearance. Her hair was long and unkempt, falling down her back in ringlets instead of being pinned into an updo of a proper lady. Her shirt nearly fell from her shoulders and around her neck was a long, beaded necklace that seemed to trail down between her breasts. Y/n giggled at the man's reaction, having expected nothing less.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he spoke casting his eyes away from her eyes out of embarrassment, then down to her strange necklace, then back up to her eyes.
"Don't worry about it," she said, leaning against the Banshee's railing. "It is lovely to make your acquaintance, may I ask your name?"
"Mizu," he answered, finally less taken aback by the strange woman. "And you are?*
"Y/n," she said, reaching out her hand limply, again out of habit more than anything else. Mizu looked at her with pure confusion, almost fear. Y/n giggled again, this time to hide her embarrassment. "It is expected to kiss a lady's hand where we're going."
Mizu nodded and cautiously took the girl's hand, which was smaller then her own, and cool to the touch from the ocean winds. He kissed it with the gentleness most men she encountered lacked.
"You'll make a proper gentleman," y/n remarked as she retrieved her hand once again and placed it under her head. She scanned Mizu as had her. Admittedly he was rather dashing. So much so she'd forgotten what she was originally there to ask him. Fowler was the last thing on her mind. "What's with the spectacles?" she asked.
"My eyes are unnatural back home," he told her.
"Is that so?" Y/n asked rhetorically. Perhaps without thought for personal space, she leaned forward and took the yellow frames from the man's face. She was greeted with eyes that would put the sea herself to shame. "You needn't wear these anymore, your eyes are beautiful." The young sailor folded the glasses and handed them back to the blue eyed man.
A small smile graced Mizu's face at the first genuine compliment he'd heard in regard to his eyes. He looked over the beautiful yet foreign face of the woman in front of him. The journey to London was certainly something to look forward to now.
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 2 months
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Can I request Carol Danvers x Reader. While the whole team is on a mission, Reader finds themselves in trouble. Carol swoops in a saves them. The team starts to harass R, which makes R have feelings of doubt toward their abilities and also not good enough for Carol. Angst and then you can end it however you see it. Thank you! If you don’t like this request, please feel free to ignore.
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My Voice of Reason
Warnings: Bullying of R by the team that's about it
Word count: 660
A/N: thank you for this request! I had a fun time with it~
“Y/N! Come in! What's your status?” Cap shouted over the comms. Your head was reeling after being knocked back about 50ft. You had no voice left, you had been shouting, using your voice manipulation to subdue the enemies. 
You had run out of throat spray to ease the pain and talking was something you couldn't even fathom. 
“Anyone got eyes on Y/N?” Natasha called through the comms.
“I'll find her.” You heard Carol call through, and before you knew it, she was standing above you. “You good, Echo?” The nickname that stuck with you for being able to mimic any sound. You were able to nod, point at your throat, and sign ‘no’. “Can you get up? Can you walk?” As Carol asked, another handful of Hydra goons came round, and without a second thought, Carol picked you up before unleashing an attack, knocking them out. “Let's get back to the QuinJet.” You nodded, gripping onto her, burying your face against her to hide the blush covering your cheeks. 
The ride home had been full of whispers as if you couldn't hear them talking down. It was your voice that wasn't working, not your ears.
You felt Carol's strong hand on your shoulder. Looking over, she gave a soft smile. “Almost home. We'll have to debrief, but you should grab some medicine first.” You gave a soft smile back and nodded. 
“Y/N do you have anything to say?” Tony remarked, all eyes on you.
“Ran out of meds. Couldn't talk.” Your voice still hoarse.
“I am so sick of that excuse! You need to train more often and stay off missions. You're grounded.” Cap called across the table. You pulled your sleeves over your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. You couldn't look at any of them. 
“I'm sorry…” you spoke softly. Letting the ‘adults’ talk even though you were 21 you were still the youngest besides Peter, but Tony kept him mostly off field.
A few hours later you'd been released from the debriefing, heading straight to your room. “FRIDAY. Soundproof.”
“Sound proofing complete ms. Y/L/N.” As soon as it was soundproof, you let out a banshee scream in frustration. You yelled until your voice was just about gone again, “Fuck them. I try so hard…Tony has a stupid suit, Cap is a super soldier, Thor is a literal God!” You yelled. “It's not fair…its…” you started crying which turned into uncontrollable sobbing.
“Echo? Are you in there?” You heard Carol knocked at your door. As you tried to gather yourself together real quick and told FRIDAY to stop the soundproofing. 
“Y-yeah…here…” you called out, spraying your throat.
“Can I come in?” Carol asked, making you hesitate for a moment before opening it and pulling her inside. “Hey, you okay?” Carol cupped your cheeks, you tried looking away, anywhere, but at her. She was always so kind and caring towards you. “Look at me Y/N.” It caught you off guard, she never used your name ever since she learned your nickname so of course you looked at her. “Don't listen to those idiots. You're amazing and you're an amazing super hero. They have fancy gadgets and enhancements. You don't have those things. Sure your voice is a power and makes you an enhanced individual, but your power hurts you too. It isn't endless your body has limits and they need to understand that.” 
You felt your body shake at her words, trying to hold back your tears, but they end up falling as you're pulled against her. “Shhhh I'm always on your side.” Carol pulled your face up gently before pulling you into a soft kiss making your heart soar as you kissed her back pushing up on your toes and wrapping your arms around her shoulders. 
Through all of it, Carol was here with you, and so long as you had her by your side, anything the other members said didn't matter.
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