****Shameless Mortal Kombat fluff and smut! ko-fi.com/generalasshattery paypal.me/generalasshattery
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Are you still active? I miss reading all of your MK content and with the new Mortal Kombat game that just came out a while ago will you be back to posting more content for all of the MK fighters?
Well thank you, thatâs a very sweet thing to say. I uhhh⌠got a little into hyperfixating on a different game (BG3, I am a dnd nerd after all) and my brain has not been able to transition back to fighting game mentality. That has about run itâs course though, so Iâm hoping Iâll finally be playing and getting inspired for MK soon.
Plus my sister has been yelling at me to play because she likes watching me play story mode. So letâs keep our fingers crossed!
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Iâm pretty excited weâre getting some Bi-Han as sub-zero action in the new game. Bi-Han has a lot of interesting characterization, and Iâm hoping the new game real explores it. Iâm fine him being a bad or good guy if thereâs nuance and interesting character work at play. Before death he always sorta sits at this interesting moral gray area, and itâs why heâs easily one of my faves to write for.
Iâm trying to control my excitement because I know logically no matter how good the game is or isnât, a few characters are getting screwed in service of the plot. Just gonna cross my fingers and hope he doesnât get fucked in service of a bigger picture.
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I canât be the only gleeful party over Kenshiâs return.
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I have a strange smut request
Color me intrigued. How strange?
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Howâs everyone feeling about that reveal today đ
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MK Movie Thoughts and Reflections
Itâs been a few days since I watched it, and itâs 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 couldâve 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 didnât 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 theyâd act in that scenario. Iâve 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 youâre introducing in the form of mortal kombat. This role is historically handled by Johnny Cage, but heâs 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? Thatâs what wouldâve been fun to explore with a new character IMO.
With that out of the way, Iâm not going to belabor all the things I didnât enjoy. Because well, itâs 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 canât even go into Shang Tsung. I just canât. 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 heâs three steps ahead of you. Thereâs something so obviously manipulative and toying in his vibe (god the best part of MK11 is him, Iâll 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 donât 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 donât 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 didnât 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 hasnât really shown us. Heâs 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 weâd all rather have good guy Kabal (which wouldâve 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 didnât actually win. Very good work there.
Hanzo has some promise here, but man did they cock tease us with those trailers. Didnât 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 didnât 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 Kombatâs biggest rivalry.
Over all? Not super satisfying for the dedicated fans. Wouldnât really recommend it if you donât 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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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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@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. đđđ 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
@generalasshatteryâ
Even though theyâre on a hiatus right now (a well-deserved break, I say), theyâre the BEST Mortal Kombat writer EVER! Generalâs written so much and archived so many stories and prompts and the writing is so expressive and wonderful and stays in-character and justâ
Go give âem some love, yeah? Theyâve worked SOOO hard! Itâs simply amazing!
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Headcanons on Kenshiâs Blindness and Abilities
- Kenshiâs 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 peopleâs 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 âseeâ 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 doesnât really get to perceive. Heâs learned to identify people either by their thoughts, or in many cases the unique way they may move or walk around. With people heâs exceptionally close with, he will ask to touch their face. Seeing emotion and the way peopleâs 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 donât actually make it more pleasant, since filtering out noise is a lot easier than say the general concept of weariness.
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Canât 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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Snowdrop Part 7
So yâall can tell where my brain is since this is the only thing I seem to be able to write right now đđđ. This chapter is dark, but thereâs a special guest star! Usual content warnings for this piece apply. Enjoy! Master list is here.
âââââââââ
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 wasnât stupid, the only reason to be so dedicated to this unique brand of research was to use it to âimproveâ 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 wasnât going to enjoy the answer.
If it werenât for you, as complicated as you were making things, this whole situation would be his least favorite thing heâd 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 heâd be offended for the poor fuckers family that he was going to have to spend eternity in an urn with a woman beater. He didnât 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 wouldnât 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 didnât change anything though, heâd made a promise that heâd 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 everyoneâs sake he hoped it would be over soon, and he hoped that whatever the Grandmaster had planned for this cybernetic experimentation wouldnât 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 theyâre 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 âuncontrollableâ 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 couldnât be contacted in anyway. His credit cards werenât 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.
Heâd combed through all the police reports, saw all the pictures and read all the interviews and descriptions. Heâd 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 heâd seen were not you at your best.
âLucky me, just the person I was looking for,â he said with a half smile, not that heâd ever voice this outloud but heâd 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 werenât 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 wouldnât be so kind.
âWhat the fuck?â 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.
âYeah, sorry,â he said as he started rifling through his pockets, âdidnât mean that to sound as creepy as it did.â It didnât 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.
âI saw your picture in some files I pulled for a case Iâm working on. Got a few minutes to talk?â He asked still smiling, and avoiding the cop tone.
âThis isnât my apartment, and the renter isnât home, so it would be rude for me to invite you in,â you said it with a sarcastic hint of malice and he was surprised you didnât 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.
âThatâs fine, we can go back to your place, thatâs it isnât it?â He asked and pointed at the next door over. You leaned out the door and looked, and he could tell from your expression you didnât want to be in there. Which meant he really needed to see what was in there.
âI was hoping youâd let me look around anyway, so we can kill two birds with one stone, and then I can be out of your hair,â 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.
âOkay, fine,â 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 wouldnât usually accept. Normally heâd 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 didnât 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 hadnât been there in a while.
âCan you tell me about the last time you saw him?â 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, heâd have been here with a warrant and more officers if that were the case.
âIt was maybe a month ago, I guess. We had a fight.â 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.
âWas it-â
âViolent?â You cut him off with a dry tone, but a pained look in your eyes.
âLike I said I saw you pictures from the file,â 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.
âYes it was,â you said a lot more quietly, so he shifted his tone to something much gentler as well.
âWhy didnât you call it in?â 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.
âSo that he could make bail the next day, come home and be twice as mad? Been there, done that.â 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 didnât have the ability to help.
âYou know there are-â
âYes I know about the hotlines, the crisis centers, the restraining orders, and shelters and blah, blah, blah,â 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 didnât verbally offer it, he did accept your apology for snapping.
âDidnât think there were many apartments that let people smoke in them anymore,â he said, choosing not to acknowledge the awkwardness and letting the unpleasant moment pass.
âOh itâs not allowed, but my landlord is going to try to keep my deposit anyway, so...â 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.
âSo you two were fighting, what about?â 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.
âHe was jealous, Iâd been hanging out with a neighbor a lot, we were friendly,â he stopped looking through the mail long enough to shoot you a little look.
âThe one whose apartment you were in?â He asked using a neutral tone.
âThe very same,â you said, and then immediately realized you should clarify, âI wasnât cheating. Kinda wish I had been, to be honest. Is that incriminating?â You said it like you were teasing him. He wasnât sure he entirely believed you, and it definitely put another player on the field he wasnât originally aware of.
âSo what happened then?â He tossed the envelopes back down and leaned against the counter to watch you for your responses
âI told him to leave and he wouldnât, so I left. Went to the neighborâs, half because heâs 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. Havenât seen or heard from him since.â Well, now you had a convenient alibi with another possible suspect should this turn into a murder investigation.
âYou didnât think to report him missing?â 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.
âIâve honestly just been trying not to panic thinking about whatâs going to happen when he comes back, even being in this apartment is fucking my brain up,â you said quiet once more. His brow furrowed, it was a good explanation, and you were clearly upset here.
âItâs... like Iâm staring at a museum dedicated to my fucked up life. Like none of this stuff is really mine, itâs all just replicas. The attachments gone, but Iâm just so bitter about it. Almost like one of those out of body experiences.â 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 heâd pictured, but he wasnât going to get it out of you when you were about to disassociate.
âDo you want to wait outside while I finish up? I wonât be long.â 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 youâd given him nothing but more questions.
âThank you,â 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 tâs and dotted the iâs 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 youâd described him as a big, strong, scary looking guy, that was not what heâd 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 didnât know if you were involved, but he was positive you werenât 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 theyâd never find any trace of your ex.
âAre you just about done here?â He asked his voice remarkably free of any emotion. He didnât sound agitated by Kabalâs presence here. He likely had no reason to, especially with how thoroughly heâd 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.
âYeah, I think I can cross this off my list for now,â Kabal said pleasantly, though he didnât particularly care for this turn of events.
âGood, I need a drink,â you said and took a long inhale from a brand new cigarette you were working on. He didnât 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.
âCareful with that,â he said gesturing to the cigarette, âyou donât want to trade one bad habit for another.â He said it playfully enough, but made it a point to look at your âfriendâ. 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.
âOh and, if you think of anything, or hear from him,â he said and deliberately made eye contact with you, âor need any help, you can call me directly.â 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.
âHave a good day, officer,â 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 didnât 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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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.
âââââââââââââ
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 youâd 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 wasnât 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.
âSay it again,â 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 youâd just said.
âSnowdrop,â you said. You didnât 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 youâd likely carry for the rest of your life.
âAgain,â 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 youâd never offered anyone else before.
âSnowdrop,â you repeated. He nodded slowly, never severing that eye contact with you.
âWhen are you going to say that?â 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 wasnât ready for this moment to pass.
âWhen I need to,â you said, somehow knowing exactly how he wanted you to answer. His thumb ran over the back of your head gently.
âGood girl,â 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 didnât 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. Youâd already given him the control, and so it was easy to let him lead. This wouldnât last forever, you knew youâd 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 youâd 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 didnât 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, âDo you want me to fuck you, my little brat?â 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 youâd 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 youâd likely never give away again. It made this moment something more powerful than youâd anticipated, more thrilling and more meaningful.
âI want you to fuck me,â 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 heâs be able to feel that reaction from the shameless mess you were now making of your underwear.
âHow do you want to be fucked?â 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.
âI donât care,â 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, âI just want you to fuck me, and I want to ache. I want to feel it tomorrow.â 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 werenât much without it. Thereâd 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 couldnât 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.
âDonât stop,â 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.
âMessy little brat, arenât you?â 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 didnât 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 wouldnât 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 didnât 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.
âWeâre not done yet,â he said simply before you could protest. Not that you would have, youâd 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 didnât 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 didnât 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 didnât even permit you time to collect yourself before he was pushing you over onto your belly so he could unhook your bra.
âYou still want to ache?â 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.
âYes,â 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 couldâve 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.
âMessy, and over eager,â he said coldly, but then leaned over you so he could whisper out, âmy favorite things.â 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 didnât 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 didnât wait, he didnât let you get used to him, and he wasnât 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 couldâve 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. Youâd 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 couldnât wait to feel the aches in the morning that would inevitably remind you of an amazing night.
If you were a man it wouldâve been shameful how easy cumming was for you, but you werenât and so the fact it didnât 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 didnât 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.
âNot yet, stay still, youâre going to be sore,â he said firmly. Well, you already were. It wasnât 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 didnât 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 didnât need to worry, you knew he wasnât going anywhere. Heâd told you he would take care of you, and so far heâd proven he meant it.
âHow do you feel?â 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.
âLike I could stay here forever,â you said, and then added âor at least all night.â 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.
âI can do all night,â he said and you felt him start to settle in comfortably beside you. It made you relax, just about melting against him.
âWhat about you?â You asked after a moment, tilting your head back to catch a glimpse of him. He furrowed his brow at you.
âWhat do you mean?â He asked, as you started to roll over to face him. It ached a bit, but that wasnât 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.
âHow do you feel?â 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.
âYou donât have to say anything,â you said. You knew he wasnât 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.
âI feel right, and I feel thatâs the only honest thing I can tell you,â he said after taking the time to regard you properly. You couldnât 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.
âOh forgive me for prying, I didnât mean to risk your edgy mysterious aura. Wouldnât want me to think youâre human, would you?â 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 youâd only managed to catch a few times, but was becoming more regular.
âIâm going to spank you for that later,â He said and returned the kiss with one on your forehead.
âPromise?â
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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! đđđ

MK OC: Wren Clark
So writing for all these other OCs made me want to share one of mine, so Iâm delighted to introduce you all to my MK OC Wren.
Name: Wren Clark
Age: 29
Height: 4â 11â
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:Â 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 doesnât impact a person negatively unless sheâs 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.Â
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:Â 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 canât 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: Wrenâs 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 thatâs what heâd say. Itâs 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 fatherâs 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. Sheâs still beating up bullies when sheâs 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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Your local smut hag is officially a year older! I hope everyone that celebrates it is having a good Fourth of July!
We will go back to our irregular posting schedule hopefully this week!
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My favorite thing about this blog is the friends Iâve made, but more specifically when these amazing folks awkwardly ask my name because theyâre not sure if calling me âgeneralâ or âasshatâ is apporpriate.
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Lots of love to all the wonderful self shippers out there! Itâs been an honor to write for this fine group of people.

My contribution to this meme
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