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generalasshattery · 4 years ago

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MK Movie Thoughts and Reflections

It’s been a few days since I watched it, and it’s all had time to settle in my brain. Who wants a tangent?

So, I guess I should start with the like biggest issue. Cole. Like I get he was only put in the movie because the studio insisted, and I feel like a little bit of the resentment for having to do that is obvious by just how bland a character he is. If they had to have him, they could’ve at least made him a little more fun to watch. Like, you had the opportunity to make a new Mortal Kombat character, some of the most deliciously and wonderfully over the top and charismatic fighting game characters out there... like why didn’t they make any effort to justify his existence on screen? Want to give us an everyman that can be used to introduce the world to the public? Do it, make him an audience proxy. Use some wit and charm to make people feel like he represents how they’d act in that scenario. I’ve seen this done to absolutely beautiful effect, my favorite example is actually a short horror film on YouTube called Downstairs. Lean into the batshit insanity you’re introducing in the form of mortal kombat. This role is historically handled by Johnny Cage, but he’s a celebrity rich boy, how would Joe down the block honestly handle this shit? Would he be stressed the fuck out and anxious? Or riding high getting to live out an ultimate power fantasy? That’s what would’ve been fun to explore with a new character IMO.

With that out of the way, I’m not going to belabor all the things I didn’t enjoy. Because well, it’s obvious. Jobbers irritate me, like what the fuck was that they did with Reiko? Did not like. Killing a clearly post burns Kabal in a fire? Like that just upset me. And all the weird lore building choices were just that... fucking weird. They do not need to be super heroes. They do not need to awaken super powers. Tech based abilities make it more interesting against the more supernaturally influenced characters. Genre bending has always been a feature and not a bug in MK. The game was supposed to be a Jean Claude Van Damme game, it was supposed to be all these different genres of movies coming together to fight the Van Damme, in a manor of speaking. Taking away the absolutely fun part of the story where special ops, a celebrity, and monks team up with a god to fight ninjas, a sorcerer, criminal empires, and monsters, is like missing the forest for the trees with the franchise. And I just can’t even go into Shang Tsung. I just can’t. I like Chin Han, he plays assholes very well, but Shang Tsung is a special kind of asshole. Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa just set the bar so high with how much intellectualism he brings to the lines. He can drop them in such a smart sounding way that it makes you feel like he’s three steps ahead of you. There’s something so obviously manipulative and toying in his vibe (god the best part of MK11 is him, I’ll fight people on this, he fucking stole that shit for me) that it makes him feel instantly threatening. Immediately you know this is a man you Should Not Fuck with. I need that from Shang Tsung, or I don’t even really feel like you should bother bringing him to screen.

But despite all that, I did actually enjoy the experience of watching the movie, admittedly because I expected not to like any of it, so there were quite a few pleasant surprises. The gore and fight scenes were so perfectly stylized with the excessive blood and choreography, showing off the characters fatalities and famous moves... yes feed me that fan service. Feed it to me.

And while I don’t love all the casting (Reiko and Shang Tsung for example), some of it was pure perfection. Kano, Jax and Sonya? Story was... A Choice but loved the actors and what they brought to the characters. Also, like Lui Kang being cast with just the prettiest actor made me very happy. Pretty boy Lui Kang can hang, especially with his belt/slash floating in the wind. I was here for that.

Holy god damn hell, Joe Taslim, what the fuck dude? You made all my Bi-Han fantasies and dreams a reality. Like god damn, I could feel the depth he was bringing to the role even if the script didn’t let him explore it. I seriously hope we get so much more from him because got damn. I was so pleased with his performance. Holy shit not to mention the ice effects, his Katara moment of stopping the rain and then wrecking the shit out of a street is the kind of raw destructive power that canon has always hinted he has but hasn’t really shown us. He’s so often relegated to being a jobber, and MK is so especially bad at telling you a character is powerful but not showing it. Oh boy the movie showed it. Not just him either, I felt a real sense of power from a few players, and that was deeply satisfying.

Also like Kabal? For as much as his death pissed me off, damn did they nail his vibe. I think we’d all rather have good guy Kabal (which would’ve been a more interesting story with Kano on both sides the fence [and I DO NOT have the energy to write the dissertation I have for that weird ass choice]) but I really thought they got the bad guy him just right. Side note: My sister watched it with me and just adored him, she loved his fight scenes and kept asking me who he was and telling me how damn cool he seemed. And I do agree. His fighting scene was so damn good. The way they handle his choreography and effects made him look every bit the intimidating opponent he is, even if he didn’t actually win. Very good work there.

Hanzo has some promise here, but man did they cock tease us with those trailers. Didn’t even toss a handy j for our troubles. I will say, assuming they do make another film (and that is a big assumption) I am cautiously optimistic about where it could be heading. The actor really didn’t get enough time to explore the part, but Scorpion has the potential to be fascinating and I feel like him and Sub Zero getting their own film properly could really give me some satisfying story telling in Mortal Kombat’s biggest rivalry.

Over all? Not super satisfying for the dedicated fans. Wouldn’t really recommend it if you don’t Stan Bi-Han specifically. But if you set your expectations as low as possible, you may find some fun in it the way I did.

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generalasshattery · 4 years ago

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Me: Now why is this dusty ass old blog getting notes again on all my Bi-Han stuff.

MK Movie Bi-Han:

Ooooooh, oh right.

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generalasshattery · 5 years ago

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@boneshine thank you for such a sweet and uplifting shoutout! I really needed to see this, so thank you so much for taking the time to say all those lovely things. 💕💗💕 to you, cranbebe!

SHOUTOUT TIME!

If you enjoy the world of Mortal Kombat and reading prompts and adventures with each and every potential inhabitant, I highly recommend

@generalasshattery

Even though they’re on a hiatus right now (a well-deserved break, I say), they’re the BEST Mortal Kombat writer EVER! General’s written so much and archived so many stories and prompts and the writing is so expressive and wonderful and stays in-character and just–

Go give ‘em some love, yeah? They’ve worked SOOO hard! It’s simply amazing!

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generalasshattery · 5 years ago

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Headcanons on Kenshi’s Blindness and Abilities

- Kenshi’s ability to perceive the world around him relies more on his telekinesis then his telepathy. At any moment he has a decent map of his surroundings, though his ability to distinguish more minute details is considerably diminished.

- However, motion does impact how well he can interpret his surroundings. In the same way most people’s vision is triggered by it, his telekinesis is more likely to pick up movement than static things.

-For example hands usually appear like mittens, where he can “see” a thumb and the rest of the fingers sort of read as one entity, unless someone is typing. Then he can perceive all the fingers in motion.

-This does mean that faces are something he doesn’t really get to perceive. He’s learned to identify people either by their thoughts, or in many cases the unique way they may move or walk around. With people he’s exceptionally close with, he will ask to touch their face. Seeing emotion and the way people’s eyes light up or darken is something he deeply misses.

-When it comes to his telepathy, Kenshi has always been an abstract thinker, and he was genuinely surprised to experience how many people have audible internal monologues.

-Since he cant really turn off his abilities without actively trying to (and because it would be disadvantageous for him to do so), Kenshi has had to learn how to filter out the noise. Abstract thinkers like him don’t actually make it more pleasant, since filtering out noise is a lot easier than say the general concept of weariness.

#mortal kombat #mk #mortal kombat headcanon #headcanons #kenshi #kenshi takahashi

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generalasshattery · 5 years ago

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Can’t wait to see more!

Drawing men looking pissed off is my favorite pass time. Anyway, some Lin Kuei scribbles in the works

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generalasshattery · 5 years ago

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Snowdrop Part 7

So y’all can tell where my brain is since this is the only thing I seem to be able to write right now 😂😂😂. This chapter is dark, but there’s a special guest star! Usual content warnings for this piece apply. Enjoy! Master list is here.

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Task wise, this may have been his least favorite mission, for a multitude of reasons, really. Not the least of which was just how many corpses he had to deal with. It may have been a mark of how truly a cold bastard he was, but Bi-han preferred making corpses to dealing with them. This one was requiring quite a bit of transportation and handling of the dead, which was made easier with his ability to freeze the bodies, but was never the less as unpleasant as it sounded.

The other matter was his slow growing realization for what this mission was ultimately going to mean for him and quite a few others within the Lin Kuei. He wasn’t stupid, the only reason to be so dedicated to this unique brand of research was to use it to “improve” the clan members. What he was still figuring out was the extent of which these improvements were intended to be put in place, but the more time he spent guarding and aiding the unpleasant waste of human the scientist was, the more he knew he wasn’t going to enjoy the answer.

If it weren’t for you, as complicated as you were making things, this whole situation would be his least favorite thing he’d ever done. Matters with you were becoming more and less complicated, after all he was standing there staring at the face of your former boyfriend seconds before it was to be cremated and mixed in with the ashes of a father and family man. If he had more morals he’d be offended for the poor fuckers family that he was going to have to spend eternity in an urn with a woman beater. He didn’t care though, it mattered only in so far that it meant that no one was ever going to find your ex again. There was even some grim pleasure he took in knowing the various indignities the corpse had to endure while under the unpleasant care of the scientist. He knew you wouldn’t enjoy that the way he did, even if you deserved that vengeance.

This was why you were complicating things, because even while the situation was on its way to being finished with, you were now invading his thoughts during his mission. He was a man who could compartmentalize almost anything, he could stuff the admittedly limited feelings he felt about his situation and life to the side and deal with what was at hand. Yet, you were the thing that was proving hard to keep from his waking thoughts. He knew the truth was simple, he enjoyed thinking about you, that little flood of dopamine and the image of your face or sound of your voice was keeping him hooked. Not enough that he was suddenly finding it difficult to do his tasks, but enough that he knew he could risk making a bad decision regarding you eventually.

That didn’t change anything though, he’d made a promise that he’d take care of you until he was done here, and he fully intended to keep his word to you. Right now, though, he was dealing with the strange sensation of wanting his least favorite mission ever to last as long as it possibly could. For everyone’s sake he hoped it would be over soon, and he hoped that whatever the Grandmaster had planned for this cybernetic experimentation wouldn’t cost him everything.

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Kabal hated having to work these sort of cases. The kind where you have to investigate on behalf of the worse sort of person, the type that no one really cares that they’re gone in the first place. It was hard to picture anyone shedding a tear for a man with more arrests for beating up on girlfriends and being drunk and belligerent in public than he had hairs on his head. He was the sort of just successful enough that he could get away with it, but not enough that people were actively covering for him. Only his boss, seemed to have anything nice to say. That fit the sort though, kissed up to the people above him while stomping on the people below. It became clear that he was a man with an “uncontrollable” rage that never seemed to be a problem around his superiors or clients.

Still though, he had to investigate, even for assholes. He had just stopped coming into work and couldn’t be contacted in anyway. His credit cards weren’t being used, and there were no massive recent withdrawals. If he did just up and leave he did so quickly and in a panic. So he started where it made the most sense, he headed over to the potential victims home. Not before he did his due diligence on who he was dealing with though.

He’d combed through all the police reports, saw all the pictures and read all the interviews and descriptions. He’d tried calling the number they had for you, but no answer. The concern was present from this being a single missing persons case to something along the line of a murder-suicide. However, that was pure conjecture until he had more information. When knocking on your door produced nothing, he immediately moved onto the neighbors. It was honestly no small relief when you opened the door, though it took a second to recognize you. The pictures he’d seen were not you at your best.

“Lucky me, just the person I was looking for,” he said with a half smile, not that he’d ever voice this outloud but he’d much rather you be the murderer than the victim. Nor did he automatically assume you were responsible for it, after all this man was liked by so very few. Still statistics weren’t in your favor, but you had enough evidence and reports that someone in your case could probably plead down to a much lesser charge, even if it was premeditated. At least that was true in this county, other places wouldn’t be so kind.

“What the fuck?” You looked surprised, and it hit him just how weird that was for a stranger to exclaim excitedly, especially because he was in plainclothes. So he put on his best, charming and apologetic smile.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said as he started rifling through his pockets, “didn’t mean that to sound as creepy as it did.” It didn’t take him long before he had his badge out, which he held up for you to see. Not the quick flash of the movies, he wanted to make sure you saw who he was. Your jaw clenched a little, brows furrowed, definitely a reaction but not one that meant anything meaningful.

“I saw your picture in some files I pulled for a case I’m working on. Got a few minutes to talk?” He asked still smiling, and avoiding the cop tone.

“This isn’t my apartment, and the renter isn’t home, so it would be rude for me to invite you in,” you said it with a sarcastic hint of malice and he was surprised you didn’t just slam the door. From the way you held onto the corner, it was clear you debated it. The uncertain nibble on your lip told him you were torn about how to handle this. So he kept with the calm casual voice and hoped that would encourage you to talk a little more.

“That’s fine, we can go back to your place, that’s it isn’t it?” He asked and pointed at the next door over. You leaned out the door and looked, and he could tell from your expression you didn’t want to be in there. Which meant he really needed to see what was in there.

“I was hoping you’d let me look around anyway, so we can kill two birds with one stone, and then I can be out of your hair,” he put a little more pressure in his tone, and hoped the suggestion of him being gone soon would encourage you to comply. To his surprise it did.

“Okay, fine,” you said, and ducked back into the apartment to grab your keys. While you walked over to the apartment, you both properly introduced yourselves, and he explained exactly what he was doing there. Not that you needed him to say it, it was obvious you knew who he was looking for.

You held the door open for him, something he wouldn’t usually accept. Normally he’d make it a point to hold the door for others, but the way you looked into the apartment told him this was not a gesture of courtesy. No, you really didn’t want to be in there. So he went in first, and watched you from the corner of his eye linger outside the door for a brief moment before coming in. After he got the relevant permission to start looking he made it a point to avoid staring at you too hard while he looked around. It was a little dusty in spots, but otherwise clean, like you hadn’t been there in a while.

“Can you tell me about the last time you saw him?” He asked as casually as he asked everything else, while he glanced around for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. This was far from a full sweep, he’d have been here with a warrant and more officers if that were the case.

“It was maybe a month ago, I guess. We had a fight.” Your arms were crossed over your chest, and you were rubbing your shoulders like you were trying to comfort yourself, and he realized he might have misunderstood your apprehension over being here.

“Was it-“

“Violent?” You cut him off with a dry tone, but a pained look in your eyes.

“Like I said I saw you pictures from the file,” the second the words left him, he regretted it. That look on your face, like something deeply personal had just been violated. It must have been a special kind of terrible knowing there were strangers who had seen you that way, in the worst moments of your life.

“Yes it was,” you said a lot more quietly, so he shifted his tone to something much gentler as well.

“Why didn’t you call it in?” He asked and straightened up so he could address you directly. You let out a cynical scoff, with an eye roll so high he knew you were using it to keep back a few tears.

“So that he could make bail the next day, come home and be twice as mad? Been there, done that.” The frustration in your voice spoke to a helplessness. He really hated these sorts of cases, not just because the victim most definitely deserved what he got(whatever that was), but because there were a lot of people that got left in the wake that he just didn’t have the ability to help.

“You know there are-“

“Yes I know about the hotlines, the crisis centers, the restraining orders, and shelters and blah, blah, blah,” again you cut him off, you sounded so bitter and angry that he knew better than to push it further. But then something flashed in your eyes, a little bit of an apologetic expression before you pulled cigarettes and a lighter out of your purse. You stared at him with those eyes for a moment before lighting one up, and even though you didn’t verbally offer it, he did accept your apology for snapping.

“Didn’t think there were many apartments that let people smoke in them anymore,” he said, choosing not to acknowledge the awkwardness and letting the unpleasant moment pass.

“Oh it’s not allowed, but my landlord is going to try to keep my deposit anyway, so...” you shrugged and puffed on your cigarette for emphasis. Then flicked off the ash on the carpet, a little act of disrespect for a lot of things, he figured. He remained quiet for a few moments, a little breather during a difficult discussion before he got back to business.

“So you two were fighting, what about?” He asked and went back to his fruitless search, he was even pawing through some old mail on the counter for anything overdue to indicate he may have had a reason to leave on his own accord.

“He was jealous, I’d been hanging out with a neighbor a lot, we were friendly,” he stopped looking through the mail long enough to shoot you a little look.

“The one whose apartment you were in?” He asked using a neutral tone.

“The very same,” you said, and then immediately realized you should clarify, “I wasn’t cheating. Kinda wish I had been, to be honest. Is that incriminating?” You said it like you were teasing him. He wasn’t sure he entirely believed you, and it definitely put another player on the field he wasn’t originally aware of.

“So what happened then?” He tossed the envelopes back down and leaned against the counter to watch you for your responses

“I told him to leave and he wouldn’t, so I left. Went to the neighbor’s, half because he’s a big strong scary looking guy, half because I knew it would piss him off. We grabbed a couple of drinks so I could calm down, and when I came he was gone. Haven’t seen or heard from him since.” Well, now you had a convenient alibi with another possible suspect should this turn into a murder investigation.

“You didn’t think to report him missing?” He asked point blank, letting how suspicious that was clearly seep into his voice. You blinked for a moment, looked at the ground and took a shaky breath.

“I’ve honestly just been trying not to panic thinking about what’s going to happen when he comes back, even being in this apartment is fucking my brain up,” you said quiet once more. His brow furrowed, it was a good explanation, and you were clearly upset here.

“It’s... like I’m staring at a museum dedicated to my fucked up life. Like none of this stuff is really mine, it’s all just replicas. The attachments gone, but I’m just so bitter about it. Almost like one of those out of body experiences.” You were no longer talking to him, not to anyone really. You had a distant look on your face, it made him uncomfortable. You had left something out of the story, something that made it much worse than he’d pictured, but he wasn’t going to get it out of you when you were about to disassociate.

“Do you want to wait outside while I finish up? I won’t be long.” He rubbed his brow, this was going to be a pain in the ass to follow up on. There was nothing suspicious enough here to get a warrant and tear the place apart, and you’d given him nothing but more questions.

“Thank you,” you said, and it sounded like you meant it. Even though he was pretty certain that there was nothing to see, he never the less crossed the t’s and dotted the i’s thoroughly before he left the apartment himself. As predicted, nothing of note, nothing suspicious, nothing out of place enough to cause concern. Of course, you said something violent had happened here, and there was no indication at all of that. Frustrating. It was frustrating.

When he exited to the hall outside your room, he found you there with who he could only assume was the neighbor. When you’d described him as a big, strong, scary looking guy, that was not what he’d pictured. He was expecting tattoos, or a meathead looking guy, the kinda guy that made suburban moms cross the streets. This man was something else entirely, something that made his instincts flash with warning. Not his cop instincts, the ones from his Black Dragon days. He was intense and the air around him felt cold, as cold as the look he sent Kabal when he approached. In that moment Kabal knew they were never going to find the victim. He didn’t know if you were involved, but he was positive you weren’t guilty of murder. The man however, probably had more than a few of those under his belt, and he would bet a lot of money they’d never find any trace of your ex.

“Are you just about done here?” He asked his voice remarkably free of any emotion. He didn’t sound agitated by Kabal’s presence here. He likely had no reason to, especially with how thoroughly he’d removed any trace of conflict from your apartment. His hand was on your back, though if he was comforting you or making a clear mark of territory was unclear.

“Yeah, I think I can cross this off my list for now,” Kabal said pleasantly, though he didn’t particularly care for this turn of events.

“Good, I need a drink,” you said and took a long inhale from a brand new cigarette you were working on. He didn’t know exactly what the relationship was between the two of you, if this man was a danger to you or just to other people, but Kabal could see a potential future disaster.

“Careful with that,” he said gesturing to the cigarette, “you don’t want to trade one bad habit for another.” He said it playfully enough, but made it a point to look at your “friend”. The growing frown on your face meant you had at least caught his implication. He started to walk away but made a little show of turning around and pulling out his card.

“Oh and, if you think of anything, or hear from him,” he said and deliberately made eye contact with you, “or need any help, you can call me directly.” He offered you the card, and you took it with reluctant fingers. You stared at it for a moment, and he had to hope you intended to keep it on the off hand chance his dark prediction came true.

“Have a good day, officer,” the man said still sounding unmoved by any of this. He shifted his arm around your shoulder you to guide you back to his home. Kabal didn’t feel especially good about watching you leave.

#mortal kombat #mk #bi-han #bi han #angst #snowdrop series #reader insert #tw domestic violence #tw abuse #dv mention #abuse mention

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generalasshattery · 5 years ago

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Snowdrop Part 6

SMUT CHAPTER! SMUT CHAPTER! This is some rough masochistic but rather fluffy smut. This is my Bi-han/Reader Angst series, and the master list for all the chapters is here.

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The word hung in the air for a while, and from the careful expression he was using to regard you, it was clear the implication was not lost on him. His hand ran through your hair pausing to cup the back of your head. His other arm was still looped around your back, he was holding you, cradling you like you’d just become something so very dearly precious to him. For a moment there was pure silence, save for the sounds from the streets below that seemed so far away now. As though the world was slowly leaving until only the two of you remained. Peering into his eyes, intense and yet gentle for you, it wasn’t such a scary notion. It was only a few brief moments, a couple of heart beats and a breath or two, and yet it felt like an hour.

“Say it again,” he said after that eternity in an instant passed. You blinked for a moment, so lost in him that you had to remind yourself what you’d just said.

“Snowdrop,” you said. You didn’t flinch or look away, you leaned into it with him. Leaned into your own surrender, and the responsibility he was taking for it. Leaned into the realization that both your feelings were a lot deeper than either of you would ever admit to the other. That though this was temporary, there was a deep an unshakeable connection that you’d likely carry for the rest of your life.

“Again,” he said, a command. A firm one in fact, perhaps even a little test, or a demonstration. Something about that had your smile growing, you aware of exactly what face you were giving him, that shamelessly adoring gaze that you’d never offered anyone else before.

“Snowdrop,” you repeated. He nodded slowly, never severing that eye contact with you.

“When are you going to say that?” He asked in a tone that carried his new authority. For a moment you debated breaking his gaze so you could lean in for a few more adoring kisses on his cheek, but you knew he wasn’t ready for this moment to pass.

“When I need to,” you said, somehow knowing exactly how he wanted you to answer. His thumb ran over the back of your head gently.

“Good girl,” he responded, and you never knew you could love two words so much. You felt it in your chest, a small amount of pride swelling enough to make you puff up making it completely obvious how pleased with yourself you were. It was silly, and normally your bitter, sarcastic nature prohibited you from enjoying something like this. It made a faint redness creep across your cheeks, a small amount of shame for adoring something you would normally find so very condescending.

He didn’t let you linger in conflict for long, he pulled you close, still cradling you like the precious thing you were, and claimed your lips for an icy, dominating kiss. A kiss that made it clear you were very much his, and you were more than happy that you were. You’d already given him the control, and so it was easy to let him lead. This wouldn’t last forever, you knew you’d be challenging him to put you in your place very soon, but for a wonderfully sweet moment it was pure pleasure to let him have you.

Your chin was starting to shake from the sheer cold of being completely surrounded by him by the time he parted. You absentmindedly rubbed your hand over your mouth to warm up your lips that were now completely cold to the touch. A shiver ran down your spine as you realized exactly what you’d signed up for. If having his ice cold tongue in your mouth had you trembling, you could only guess it would feel having him inside you in other ways. Strangely that didn’t put you off, but it did make you nervous, and coupled with the icy chill there was this bolt of energy surgery through your limbs that demanded action.

He rested his cheek against yours, leaned in close so he could drop his voice to a whisper, and it was no longer just the cold that had you shivering, “Do you want me to fuck you, my little brat?” His hand left the back of your head to move down your body, touching and grasping with a firm hand down from your neck, chest and side until he could use that powerful grip to take your thigh and make you part your legs for him. You were perhaps a little too eager to let him, especially sitting out on the patio. You were too high up to be seen easily, and the stars were just starting to shine above you. It was a cool evening. And while you’d never have done something like this with anyone else, you trusted Bi-han. It was kind of a strange thought that you were giving sides of yourself to him that you’d likely never give away again. It made this moment something more powerful than you’d anticipated, more thrilling and more meaningful.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whispered out in a surprisingly guttural tone. He wrapped his cold lips around your neck, followed quickly by his teeth. Your head fell back, giving him plenty of room to play with. A small gasp escaped you when you felt that cold grazing you through your underwear, along the slit of your core. His hand had made its way under your dress while you were distracted, and he was so very lightly teasing you. It made you wet enough that your panties were borderline uncomfortable, especially with the gently, cool, and constant touch. It made your cheeks flush knowing he’s be able to feel that reaction from the shameless mess you were now making of your underwear.

“How do you want to be fucked?” He asked, tearing his teeth from your sensitive neck, an act that made you let out a whimper from the sudden pain and pleasure. Your hand reaches for his shoulder, looking for anything to hold onto. Your breath caught in your throat when he gently nudged the cloth out of the way so he could slide his fingers through the flesh, rubbing back and forth a couple times before he stopped at your clit.

“I don’t care,” you finally said, the words were so hard to get out with the distraction of his fingers now pressing against your most sensitive of spots, “I just want you to fuck me, and I want to ache. I want to feel it tomorrow.” You drew in a few shuddering breaths, you could almost feel his smile against your cheek. You needed it, that pain that made everything so intense. The way it cut through the agitation of mounting pleasure to push you over the edge. It always felt like something you just needed, that pleasure and passion just weren’t much without it. There’d been soft sweet loving making in your past, but it always felt lacking. Perhaps you just never loved anyone enough for it to have been meaningful, or maybe to you were just that much of a masochist.

His fingers rubbed against your clit, and that chill against that nub was the most intense feeling you ever had. You couldn’t even keep yourself from shameless grinding against his fingers for more. There was a small chuckle from him as his other hand left your back so he could start shifting your body until you were no longer on his knee, but sitting on his lap properly, his fingers never leaving you all the while. Your back was now against his chest, and you could feel his considerable excitement for you pressing against your rear. Your hand grabbed his wrist, desperate to keep his attention where it was, even if it was almost too much... no. Especially because it was almost too much.

“Don’t stop,” you said sounding as desperate for it as you were. There was that pressure, that growing need for relief from the pleasure. It made your hips rock, something that you shamelessly enjoyed all the more from the feeling of him so hard and eager for you.

“Messy little brat, aren’t you?” He asked, into your ear before he dragged his teeth down your neck and to your shoulder. His free hand reached and tugged down the top of your dress, exposing your bra. He took your breast with an iron grip, fingers locked tight around your nipple, and squeezed hard enough that it made you cry out. And there it was, that little bit of pain you so desperately needed to gain the relief. The force of the climax hit you hard enough, that you tensed completely in his arms. His name was on your lips as you struggled to regain any sort of normalcy in your breathing. He didn’t stop immediately, rather his fingers slowed, used less pressure. He used it to push you through the last bits of your peak, to sustain it for a little longer before easing you off until he could pull his fingers away and they wouldn’t be missed.

You sat there, on his lap, legs splayed way open, your wet core exposed to the cool night air. He was nice enough to adjust your panties back over so you didn’t look completely ridiculous. After a moment, after your shaky breaths of pleasure subsided and you were regaining a sense of self, he scooped you up in his arms to carry you inside.

“We’re not done yet,” he said simply before you could protest. Not that you would have, you’d felt what he had to offer, and were very much thrilled to get it. Your teeth were in danger of chattering from the cold of him by the time he dumped you rather unceremoniously onto the bed. He didn’t wait for you to collect yourself either before he was yanking your clothes off. Your dress went first, a single forceful tug had it over your head and then tossed over his shoulder. Then he shoved you back into the covers so he could get your panties off. It didn’t seem to matter what you did with your legs from the way he was more than fine with manhandling your body to get what he wanted. He didn’t even permit you time to collect yourself before he was pushing you over onto your belly so he could unhook your bra.

“You still want to ache?” He asked, there was something absolutely wicked in his voice, you tilted your head to look around but his fist was in your hair immediately, shoving your face into the covers for a moment before he used the grip on your hair to lift your head to breath and speak.

“Yes,” you managed out, face flushed and lips parted to draw in panting breaths. You were already feeling the need for him growing again, the need to be invaded and controlled and dominated. He was more than happy to oblige you. He shoved your face back down as he crawled onto the bed, knee on either side of your thighs, using his weight to keep your legs pinned. You felt your heart race, felt that little dangerous excitement growing as he let go of your hair only to secure your wrists in one hand behind your back.

His other hand took free reign to survey his new territory, running along your back, raising the bumps on your skin as he dragged his icy hand along until he had a fistful of your ass. You let out a harsh sounding moan when he gave it a rough squeeze before letting go to strike you there hard enough to make the skin sting red. If you could’ve opened your legs for him, invited him to fuck you, you would have. He still had your legs firmly in place though, so instead you arched your back pushing your rear out and all but begged for more. He grabbed the hot and angry flesh in a rough grip, something that made your toes curl for him.

“Messy, and over eager,” he said coldly, but then leaned over you so he could whisper out, “my favorite things.” His hand left your ass, and you knew from the sounds of clothes rustling he was getting himself out, you expected to feel him shift so he could press against you, he didn’t though. Instead he grabbed your hair to give you another hard tug to force your head back up. It made your back arch awkwardly, especially with your ass still up in the air for him.

For a moment he just paused, and you realized that he was enjoying this image. The image of you with your hands pinned behind your back, hair being pulled hard enough to make you arch, ass red and cunt wet. It was only a moment before he shifted his weight off your legs, and you were able to spread them enough that he could settle himself at your entrance. He didn’t wait, he didn’t let you get used to him, and he wasn’t gentle, not when he slammed himself hard enough into you that you could feel an intense ache where he reached the furthest he could inside of you.

You could’ve came in that moment all over again, he was more than enough to fill you, more than enough to make you feel like you were stretching, more than enough to give you that absolutely delicious pain you craved. Not to mention the pure shock of the sudden cold, it was an experience like no other, what had always felt like the warmest place of you was now taken by a hard iciness, it instantly had your whole body covered in goose bumps, and trembling uncontrollably. All you could do was cry his name, and he clearly loved that sound. It made him drive in all the harder, all the faster, all the deeper. It made him grit his teeth and let out a low moan between pants.

Each new thrust felt like a strike against you, each time it almost knocked the air right out of you. You’d been fucked hard before, but never like this. Never by someone that made you so inescapably horny, and not by someone that seemed to just instinctively know exactly what you needed. Like the over eager mess he made you, you were all too thrilled to match those thrusts as best you could. You almost couldn’t wait to feel the aches in the morning that would inevitably remind you of an amazing night.

If you were a man it would’ve been shameful how easy cumming was for you, but you weren’t and so the fact it didn’t take you long to have your legs shaking, your feet pointing, and your mouth hanging opening in desperate gasps. You cried out in a sound so excited and loud you knew the neighbors heard. Good. Let them hear you. You shook, as the intense waves of sensation crashed over your skin, a strange mix of your heat and his cold made your muscles twitch in the strangest way. You loved it. Loved this high peak, this glorious moment even after it passed. Even after he was still ramming into you, though he did ease off so as not to push you too far in the absence of the pleasure.

He took his time, but didn’t make you wait. He pulled out before he finished, and let himself spill all over your still bright pink rear. It was a strange sensation, the familiar thick stickiness but cold. You were still marveling about it when you felt him leave the bed, you started to roll over, but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Not yet, stay still, you’re going to be sore,” he said firmly. Well, you already were. It wasn’t long after your climax that you felt the throb from his assault overtake your lower abdomen. The sudden lack of his presence was almost as painful though, and for a moment you debated disobeying him so you could chase him down and hold him tight. In fact there was a small fear that he was going to make you stay like that, alone until you could more comfortably move. You knew what this was, the sudden emotional drop that came after this sort of intense play. It was more than an emotional one, with your body still struggling to warm itself up. It was a cold loneliness that was unique to the situation.

He didn’t leave you to stew for long though, he came back with a cloth, a bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water. He wiped you clean of his mess before he helped you roll over so you could take the medication. He then helped you slide under the covers, making sure you were wrapped up tight so you could warm up before he slid in next to you. The blanket barrier was enough to keep him from further dropping your temperature as he pulled you into a comfortable spooning position. You were quick to snuggle your back up against him, wriggling a bit to get cozy as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you close.

Those negative thoughts were already slipping away, replaced by an almost clingy need to stay with him for as long as possible. You went completely still, as though that could convince him to stay longer. You knew you didn’t need to worry, you knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He’d told you he would take care of you, and so far he’d proven he meant it.

“How do you feel?” He asked after a moment of silence passed. He gently ran his hand over your hair, a soft stroke, almost petting you in the most comforting way.

“Like I could stay here forever,” you said, and then added “or at least all night.” It was true, moving was an unpleasant prospect for a lot of reasons, not the least of which would be losing this absolutely wonderful intimacy.

“I can do all night,” he said and you felt him start to settle in comfortably beside you. It made you relax, just about melting against him.

“What about you?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of him. He furrowed his brow at you.

“What do you mean?” He asked, as you started to roll over to face him. It ached a bit, but that wasn’t enough to keep you from doing it. He tugged you closer as you did, and brushed some hair out of your face so he could look into your eyes.

“How do you feel?” You asked and were struck by how much the question seemed to surprise him. He looked at you, that furrow deepening further before it relaxed. There was something soft behind his eyes, but something was holding it back.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said. You knew he wasn’t a speaker when it came to these things, he showed, and he had showed you how he felt. Not just by caring for you, but by making sure you were comfortable, and making sure you were able to get your emotional fill of him.

“I feel right, and I feel that’s the only honest thing I can tell you,” he said after taking the time to regard you properly. You couldn’t stop your snarky self from rolling your eyes at him. God you adored him, even when he was being affectionate there was something so dramatic about him. It was positively endearing so you leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“Oh forgive me for prying, I didn’t mean to risk your edgy mysterious aura. Wouldn’t want me to think you’re human, would you?” You said, and even though the words were sarcastic, there was nothing you could do to keep the fondness out of your tone. He grinned at you, that rare honest smile that you’d only managed to catch a few times, but was becoming more regular.

“I’m going to spank you for that later,” He said and returned the kiss with one on your forehead.

“Promise?”

#snowdrop series #bi-han #Smut #lemon #bdsm #rough sex #bi han

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generalasshattery · 5 years ago

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The incomparable @insightfultaco was kind enough to draw Wren for me for my birthday! I am so excited by how amazing it came out. Thank you so much Taco! 💕💗💕

MK OC: Wren Clark

So writing for all these other OCs made me want to share one of mine, so I’m delighted to introduce you all to my MK OC Wren.

Name: Wren Clark

Age: 29

Height: 4’ 11”

Sex: Cisgender Woman

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Build: lean, shaped like a ballerina from years of dance training

Appearance: Black hair and very dark eyes, with pale skin. Dresses in dark colors, has several black and grey tattoos, and multiple piercings in her ears.

Weapons: Three-Section Staff (primary weapon), 2 daggers for close range, darts for at a distance

Abilities: Wren is an empath; she can feel the emotions of others (of any species) and can even manipulate them. How much she can affect the emotions of others psychically are determined by her focus and proximity to the person. She doesn’t impact a person negatively unless she’s in a combat situation where she might push a frightened opponent into panicking, or an arrogant opponent into over confidence to make them more likely to make mistakes. A byproduct of her abilities is that she has a natural talent for connecting to and training animals. She may use one of her pets tactically (locating enemies, giving warnings, etc) but she never uses them for actual combat. She is highly skilled in martial arts focusing on the three sectioned staff and daggers.

Family: Mother (human) - Miriam Clark; Father (human empath)- Lam Fan (formerly) Jian Clark (currently)

Pets: Gentleman - Three legged blue pitbull; Lady - Vulture; The Grand Duchess - old black cat

Personality: Given her abilities as an Empath, Wren is a kind and compassionate person. She actively does her best to help people sometimes past the point of what she is actually able to do. She often feels responsible for the emotional well-being of others because she can influence their feelings, and can become quite overwhelmed especially in large groups of people since she can’t shut off being an empath at will. As a result she is frequently anxious, gloomy, or depressed, and thus prefers the company of animals who are much less complicated and can be as comforting to her as she is to them. She frequently fosters/rehabilitates/adopts animals she finds, and would do anything to protect them. That desire to protect extends beyond animals to children, people rejected or harmed by society, and good people that need help. Despite how serious and glum she often is, she enjoys lighthearted joking, or snarky humor, and when her mood is not dismal she can be quite charming.

History: Wren’s story begins before she was born when her father, also an empath, was once known as Lam Fan. He escaped life in the Lin Kuei to cut out a more peaceful existence… or that’s what he’d say. It’s a little hard to take his word for it when his choice of career post Lin Kuei was running a phony psychic scam in New Orleans where he used his abilities to cold read effectively. He met and married an American woman named Miriam Clark and took her surname and changed his first to avoid any former bad acquaintances from his Lin Kuei days. The two had only one child, Wren, and despite her father’s predilection for mischief it was a loving and supportive family.

Wren learned her martial arts and weapon abilities from her father, while her mother insisted on more feminine pass times such as ballet. Her passions, however, have always run towards animals. She has been rescuing and rehabilitating animals since she was old enough to carry them home. She initially dreamed of becoming a veterinarian, but fell into local mercenary work when in high school someone paid her $20 to beat up their bully. She’s still beating up bullies when she’s not running a rescue a decade later and has been known to accept payment in free wifi access or a home for one of her fosters.

Things got a lot less local when the Black Dragon set up shop in her part of the neighborhood, and she now finds herself frequently working with Special Forces and similarly good aligned group to put an end to their run.

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