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svndaysaweek · 6 months

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Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on.

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder.

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down.

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass.

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom.

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear.

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that.

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan.

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you.

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes.

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you.

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more.

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.” With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind.

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #karina smut #aespa smut

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no-phrogs-in-hats · 1 year

Text

Grape Juice Stains

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: brief implication of sex, hurt/comfort, angst, feelings of worthlessness, fluff

A/N: Completely self-indulgent. This is based on some recent events that happened to me, only I don't have a Larissa and I'm a cashier instead of a teacher--and it was with the Barbie movie, not a night on the town I'm okay I promise<3

In your opinion, it was a good morning–for a Monday. You woke up, ate breakfast, remembered to take your medication, and finally showered after days of struggling to even get out of bed. As you got ready for the day, you danced around the bathroom to ABBA with serotonin and confidence rushing through your veins.

With your makeup finished and hair done, you pulled on your new pair of pants and blouse, going downstairs to make your lunch. The quarters assigned to the Nevermore staff were small, but comfortable. You had spent many nights in this very kitchen with Principal Weems, letting dinner go cold as you ate a different meal.

You were ready ten minutes early–a rare feat since you had started working anywhere. With the spare time you had, you scrolled through social media–Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram. The last two made you sick to your stomach with anger.

It was your idea to go out to Jericho Friday or Saturday night with the other teachers. Finals were right around the corner and the students had been running circles around everyone. Despite your efforts, everyone turned you down. You weren’t too fazed by it. You and Larissa ended up going out to a new restaurant in Burlington and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. But looking at your social media feed made you burn with hatred and fury.

Anger was the only thing that you could feel–anger and hurt. What was wrong? Was it something personal? Did they not like your company? You knew that you were sort of a black sheep to your coworkers–people you considered your friends at times. You had always felt a little out of place, and perhaps your relationship with Larissa did alienate you a bit. But you were always told you were pleasant, fun to have around, a joy to know.

“Sorry, I’m gonna be out of town over the weekend.”

“Oh, I can’t. I’m so sorry! My parents are gonna be in town.”

“I’ve been absolutely exhausted all week! I’d like to recharge and catch up on grading. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it!” you had said. Each, and every time.

You took a deep breath and exited out of Instagram, shaking it off. You wouldn’t let this ruin your day. Realizing the time, you grabbed your water bottle filled with juice and dashed out the door, ready to greet your students at 9am.

That was, until you were half-way to the castle and your bottle slipped out of your hand and the lid popped open on the pavement. Looking down, you weren’t surprised to see your new, pristine white pants stained pink with droplets of grape juice.

You had been worn thin for the past few weeks. From unruly students to coworkers who had no consideration for your feelings, this was the last straw. Despite the fact that students and staff alike were walking around, you finally broke down. Sobs raked through you, chest heaving and body shaking as you looked at your ruined pants and broken water bottle.

__________

“Where is she?”

“I heard someone say they saw her crying in the courtyard.”

“I hope she’s okay.”

“Obviously she’s not, she was crying.”

“Sometimes I cry for fun.”

“...what?”

A knock on the doorway brought the students from their conversation. Principal Weems stood there, confused. “Erm…where’s Ms. L/N?”

“That’s what we’re wondering,” a student answered. “Class started fifteen minutes ago and she’s not here.”

“Apparently she was seen crying in the courtyard.”

“Oh,” Larissa chirped. “Well, I’ll have Mr. Lang come in to substitute.”

__________

Larissa made the trek up to the staff quarters, knocking on your front door softly. With no response, she took out the key you made for her specially and unlocked the door.

“Darling?” she called out, setting her keys down on the kitchen counter and creeping through the house. After checking the living room upstairs she walked down the hallway and opened your bedroom door slowly. “Sweetheart?”

You simply hummed in response.

“What’s wrong?” she asked before kicking her heels off and climbing into bed behind you. “Talk to me, please.”

Tears pooled in your eyes again and your voice cracked. “No one likes me here, Larissa.”

Her heart broke. “Oh, sweet pea,” she cooed, holding you close against her front, “that’s not true.”

“Yes, it is,” you sniffled. “They went out without me. After telling me they couldn’t go out. And then posted about it on Instagram and Snapchat. And then I spilled grape juice on my white pants and they’re ruined! Larissa, I–I–”

You couldn’t get any more words out as Larissa turned you over, holding you to her chest and allowing you to cry into her neck. “It’ll be okay, darling. Everything’ll be okay.”

When you calmed down, you pulled away and smiled softly as she pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I want you to know that you belong here. When you didn’t show up for class today, your students were so worried. They love you. I love you. And every teacher who went out without you Friday night is, frankly, an asshole.”

“I know,” you mumbled. “It just…It just hurts, is all.”

“Do you want me to fire them?” Larissa joked.

You giggled. “No! No, it’s okay.”

“Oh good,” she sighed. “Because it would be hell trying to replace that many teachers.”

Around eleven, she managed to coax you out of bed after you had fallen asleep, making you lunch before taking you outside. In the small backyard, your stained pants sat on the cushioned chair that sat at a small table. A bucket of water was on the grass and you looked confused.

“When you fell asleep, I went into Jericho to the general store,” Larissa said. “I got some packs of grape Kool-Aid so we can dye your pants.”

“I love you.” You looked at her with all the love and warmth in the world. How you managed to get Larissa Weems, you didn’t know. But never in your life had you felt so loved, so cared for, so wanted.

Larissa smiled and pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you too, sweet pea.”

#i need to be held by #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #wednesday #fanfic #gwendoline christie x reader #oneshot #self indulgent #fluff

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ecliptiz · 1 year

Text

EUPHORIC FEELING 1 ╰► MARAUDERS ERA

SUMMARY — The Marauders are… utterly fascinated with the Slytherin Girl

WARNING — Cursing, Fem!Slytherin!Reader, Stupid Teenage Boys

IT WAS UTTERLY RIDICULOUS, the whole situation. The green versus the red, like a cosmic joke played out on the grounds of Hogwarts. A ridiculous rivalry meant to separate them, keep them apart like the forbidden fruit that no one dared to touch – or even cast a glance towards.

Yet there they were, the Gryffindors, acting like a bunch of bumbling idiots. Instead of discussing the next Quidditch game strategy, practicing spells, or planning yet another harebrained prank, their thoughts were inexplicably fixated on one particular girl – a girl draped in the very color they were sworn to loathe.

It was almost comical how they tried to mask their fascination with her, like lovesick fools attempting to maintain a façade. They'd shoot furtive glances her way, only to quickly divert their eyes or feign disinterest with well-timed pranks and scoffs.

Remus, concealed his infatuation behind the cover of his books. To anyone passing by, it seemed as if his gaze was glued to the pages. Yet, upon closer inspection, his eyes subtly traced the path of the girl in green as she wandered close to the Black Lake.

Peter, hid his feelings behind his incessant eating. He constantly had something to munch on, whether for himself or to offer to others. As the girl approached, he'd stuff his mouth with food, determinedly chewing to keep his nerves at bay.

His cheeks puffed up, flushed with the hidden fact it was from the sight of the girl and not the amount of food that pushed the inside of his cheeks to the limit.

James was an embodiment of chaos when it came to concealing his feelings. Subtlety was an alien concept to him. Whenever he found himself in her presence, he was like a bull charging through a china shop, ready to declare his affection to the world. His friends often had to physically restrain him from belting out his emotions in a grand display.

On the other hand, Sirius was a master of disguise. He carefully kept his gaze from constantly following her every move, a feat that required considerable effort. Instead, he channeled his energy into extravagant sighs and dramatic gestures in front of his friends, particularly when she was around.

Even when she wasn't, he maintained his over-the-top persona, hoping to capture her attention, if only for a fleeting moment.

But one day, all their efforts at subtlety seemed to shatter with just one word.

Remus Lupin charged into their shared dorm room, his hair wild and his eyes wide, flushed cheeks adding to his disheveled appearance. Instantly, his friends abandoned their respective activities.

James and Sirius halted their game of exploding snap, and Peter shifted back to his human form from his rat Animagus form, his small figure now standing upright.

"Merlin, mate, what happened to you?" Sirius teased with a chuckle, amusement lacing his voice. Remus did indeed look like he had been through a storm. His sweater was askew, trousers wrinkled, and his hair seemed to have battled a gusty wind.

"She's coming to our dorm," Remus announced, his breath coming out in uneven bursts, his chest rising and falling as if he had just completed a sprint.

"Who?" James inquired, his brow furrowed, his round glasses perched crookedly on his nose, and his attire limited to a pair of trousers.

Sirius shifted his attention from James to Remus, his curiosity piqued but still mixed with confusion.

Remus took a deep breath before practically exclaiming, "Y/N!" His voice cracked with the intensity of his announcement.

At Remus's revelation, the other boys sprang to their feet, and Peter emitted a small squeak of surprise. "Merlin, mate, you can't just drop something like that!" Sirius interjected, his words rapid.

James surveyed the dorm room, recognizing the chaos: clothes strewn haphazardly, wrappers and papers scattered across surfaces, and an unmistakable scent of body odor permeating the air.

"Why?" Peter chimed in, his voice tinged with confusion as he unconsciously began tidying his own area, his blue eyes reflecting his bewilderment.

Remus let out a rushed explanation, his words tumbling over one another, "Well, we've got this project for our NEWTs class, and she asked if we could collaborate in our dorm, and I kind of panicked and blurted out 'yes'!"

"And why in the name of Merlin's saggy left—," James began, but his language abruptly shifted as he looked around the cluttered room, "—sock would you do that?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression, "Mate, I thought your legendary Marauder pranks and smooth demeanor would have extended to handling a simple invitation."

Peter chimed in with a shrug, his rat-like tendencies showing, "Yeah, you usually handle stress by wolfing down chocolate frogs and giving our transfiguration notes a menacing glare."

Remus sighed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, "Well, this time I couldn't exactly employ those tactics. Besides, we're supposed to be responsible adults, remember?"

James let out a half-hearted laugh, "Oh right, responsible adults who are about to introduce our dorm's chaos to an unsuspecting soul."

Sirius grinned, "Well, at least it'll be an adventure. Who knows, Y/N might end up joining our ranks and become a honorary Marauder."

Peter chimed in with a snicker, "Or she might run out screaming and never speak to us again."

"Well," James trailed off, taking in a deep breath and puffing out his chest. "We cannot, under any circumstances, allow her to witness the chaotic state of this place. So..." He spoke with an air of authority, his eyes dramatically narrowing as he shot the other boys a sly grin.

And just like that, James Potter transformed into a mother on a mission during a spring cleaning spree.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Y/N WASN’T entirely sure what to anticipate upon entering the marauders' dorm room, but the fragrance of lemons mingling with the soft glow of candles placed on every available surface certainly caught her off guard.

The beds were immaculate, and there wasn't a towering heap of rubbish that might have hidden a lurking trash monster, as she had half-expected.

It was a vision of order, a far cry from what she had imagined. Yet, she ventured into the room with cautious steps, her green robes contrasting with the predominant red hues of the decor. She clutched her book and satchel tightly, containing notes, ink, and quills. Each step was cautious, as if the wrong move would trigger a cascade of pranks.

Additionally, Y/N wasn't prepared to find Sirius Black and James Potter... reading. The sight almost caused her heart to skip a beat out of sheer astonishment.

And they appeared well-groomed. It was a departure from the usual view of James with his unruly brown curls and Sirius with his perpetually tousled black hair.

Their outfits seemed carefully chosen too. Instead of their customary half-done ties and rumpled robes, they were wearing oddly formal clothing for being in their dorm room.

Suppressing a chuckle, she ignored the apparent disappointment on Remus's face when his gaze fell upon his two best mates. Meanwhile, Peter was sprawled out in his bed, his head buried in the covers, presumably fast asleep.

"Uh... so, where should we start?" She directed the question to Remus, feeling a bit awkward. Remus seemed momentarily lost, his attention momentarily consumed by her features, his own body heating up.

"Right," Remus eventually replied, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he moved towards the desk. He indicated for her to take a seat while he perched on the corner of the desk.

"We're supposed to write a seven-inch essay on Amortentia – its effects, how it's made, the whole lot," Remus explained, his eyes fixed on her with a keen intensity. He attempted to shake himself out of the daze that seemed to settle over him every time he looked at her.

In the background, he heard suppressed laughter, recognizing that Sirius was imitating him while Y/N's attention was on him, and James was doing something similar with giggles.

"Right..." she trailed off, her eyebrows arching slightly as she shot a playful yet quizzical look towards the source of the giggles – the other two boys in the room.

Remus cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged with a light pink as he shifted his attention back to the task at hand. "So, um, the essay. We could start with the history of Amortentia and its usage over the centuries."

Y/N nodded, relieved that the focus had returned to the assignment. "Sounds good. And then we can move on to its effects on individuals and relationships."

Y/N's focus remained steadfast on the task at hand, despite the playful antics of James and Sirius. Remus, on the other hand, seemed to be getting slightly exasperated as he attempted to concentrate.

"Guys, seriously," Remus huffed, trying to hide his amusement. "We're trying to work here."

James let out an exaggerated sigh, his eyes widening innocently. "Oh, I'm sorry, Moony. Did we interrupt your riveting discussion about the history of love potions?"

Sirius chimed in, grinning mischievously. "Yeah, because we all know how exciting that is."

James grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sauntered over to Peter's bed. "Is Wormtail seriously sleeping?" he exclaimed in an exaggerated tone, leaning over to inspect the lump that was Peter.

Sirius couldn't resist the opportunity to play along. With a dramatic sigh, he raised his hand as if to answer a question. "No, no, I'm Sirius," he chimed in, a sly grin curving his lips. He burst into laughter when James retaliated by flicking a pillow at him.

Y/N's concentration was momentarily broken as Sirius dramatically threw himself onto Peter's bed, causing a yelp and a sudden movement from Peter.

She glanced over, her eyes widening at the unexpected commotion. Remus shot Sirius an exasperated look, shaking his head in disbelief at the antics.

Peter, now wide awake, blinked rapidly, trying to process the sudden chaos that had unfolded around him.

He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Sirius with a mix of confusion and annoyance. "Merlin's beard, Sirius, what's gotten into you?" he grumbled, his voice still groggy from sleep.

James, unable to resist the opportunity to join in, grabbed another pillow and playfully whacked Sirius on the back. "You're worse than a blast-ended skrewt," he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

Y/N let out an amused chuckle, shaking her head as she returned her focus to the book. The boys' attempts to capture her attention might have been over the top, but it certainly wasn’t unwanted.

As the hours passed, Y/N remained engrossed in her reading and note-taking, occasionally exchanging ideas and thoughts with Remus.

The two of them worked together in a surprisingly synchronized manner, their focus strong in the way they discussed the various aspects of Amortentia's effects.

Meanwhile, James and Sirius continued their playful attempts to catch Y/N's attention, their antics ranging from exaggerated yawns to whispered commentary on the material being covered.

Remus seemed to be handling their disruptions with a mix of patience and exasperation, occasionally shooting them disapproving looks that were met with innocent smiles or exaggerated expressions of innocence.

Peter's silent observation remained a constant throughout the day. He found himself captivated by Y/N's presence and the easy way she interacted with his friends.

Her passion for learning and her ability to remain composed in the midst of the boys' shenanigans intrigued him. While the others vied for her attention, he preferred to stay on the sidelines, content to watch her from a distance.

Despite the interruptions, the collaborative effort produced tangible results.

The essay slowly took shape, combining Remus's meticulous writing with Y/N's well-organized thoughts. By the time the sun began to set and the golden light filtered through the curtains, they had made significant progress.

As they wrapped up their study session, Y/N stretched her arms above her head, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Remus let out a content sigh, rubbing his tired eyes as he glanced at the nearly completed essay. James and Sirius finally relented in their attempts to distract Y/N.

As Y/N packed up her belongings, her conversation with Remus took on a more serious tone. They discussed the final touches for the essay and set a plan to complete it by the following Tuesday.

Remus handed her the items she needed and watched her straighten her robes, giving her a warm smile as she waved goodbye to the others in the room before leaving.

However, as soon as the door closed, the room erupted in laughter. Sirius couldn't hold back his amusement, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he mimicked Remus's voice, repeating his words, "'So next Tuesday'."

James, always ready to join in the fun, pushed up his glasses with a grin. "Come on, Moony, we thought you were better than that."

Remus's cheeks were still tinged with pink as he shot them a glare. "As if any of you would do any better. The first time she tries to talk to you face to face, you'll all be blubbering fools."

James opened his mouth to retort, but Peter chimed in with a dreamy look on his face. "Honestly, I can't believe she was here in our room." He flopped back onto his bed, his voice almost swooning as he buried his face into the pillow.

Sirius raised an eyebrow playfully, nudging Remus with his elbow. "Did you see the way she looked at you, Moony? It's a miracle you managed to speak at all."

James leaned against the wall, his grin turning into a mischievous smirk. "Yeah, next time, maybe just stick to writing love notes. Might be safer."

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes at his friends' teasing. "You're all insufferable."

Peter lifted his head slightly from the pillow, a cheeky grin on his face. "But you love us."

Remus couldn't help but crack a smile at that. "Unfortunately, I do."

Sirius grinned, leaning against a desk as he looked toward the ceiling. "I can't deny it, mate. We might as well be first years all over again, fawning over a pretty girl."

Remus let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. "It's not like that," he muttered, though the pink tinge to his cheeks said otherwise.

James chuckled, crossing his arms. "Yeah, yeah, Remus is just tutoring her in more ways than one."

Remus shot James a narrowed look, his amusement evident. "Oh, come on, James. Don't pretend you wouldn't be blubbering to us about her if you were in my shoes. You'd be going on about how her eyes sparkle or how she looks when she smiles." He teased, earning a laugh from the others.

Sirius, always one for pushing the boundaries, chimed in with a devilish grin. "Oh, if I had a project with her, it wouldn't be potions we'd be brewing, if you catch my drift." He lowered his voice suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows as he spoke.

Peter, caught in between the banter, rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his blonde hair. Remus simply stared at Sirius, shaking his head in mock disbelief. James, on the other hand, nodded with a cheeky grin. "He's got a point there."

Laughter echoed through the room as the teens teased each-other, there minds lingering on the girl in Green.

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arabelladeclan · 6 months

Text

stray kids: discography

i remember getting very confused about their song releases and just the discography in general, so i compiled official releases in one post.

stray kids also have multiple songs only released on youtube, usually under "SKZ-RECORD", which means they're not on albums (or spotify). these are the ones:

ORIGINALS (only on youtube):

DRIVE - CHAN, LEE KNOW

UP ALL NIGHT - 오늘 밤 나는 불을 켜 - SEUNGMIN, FELIX, CHANGBIN, CHAN

MAKNAE ON TOP - 막내온탑 - I.N, feat. CHAN, CHANGBIN

LITTLE STAR - 꼬마별 - HYUNJIN

ICE CREAM - HYUNJIN

STREET LIGHT - CHANGBIN feat. CHAN

CLOSE - HAN

HAPPY - HAN

WISH YOU BACK - HAN

조각 (SCULPTURE) - CHANGBIN, SEUNGMIN

좋으니까 (BECAUSE I LOVE YOU) - CHANGBIN, FELIX

외계인 (ALIEN) - HAN

찬스 (CHANCE) - FELIX, CHAN

한 번 더 리플레이 (ICE AMERICANO) - LEE KNOW, HAN

빵꿀즈 (YEAH BOSS) - I.N, CHANGBIN

0티격태격 (TEASING) - HYUNKIN, SEUNGMIN "잔소리 대마왕 (KING OF NAGGING)"

인정하기 싫어 (I HATE TO ADMIT IT) - CHAN

CYPHER - CHANGBIN

I GOT IT - HAN

not to mention 3RACHA, a sub-unit constituted by CHAN, CHANGBIN AND HAN, (who go by different names: CB97, SPEARB, J.ONE) also have their own tracks on separate releases, one of them named ZONE. i'll just leave the link for their official channel because everything is there and neatly organized. click here to see 3RACHA's stuff.

there are also OST (original soundtracks) that weren't released as singles or single albums, like TOP, so these are the ones i found:

POP UP BOY!: HELLO STRANGER (STRAY KIDS)

LOVE IN CONTRACT: CLOSE TO YOU (SEUNGMIN)

EXTRAORDINARY YOU: NEVER ENDING STORY (also translated as "story that won't end") (STRAY KIDS)

HOMETOWN CHA-CHA-CHA: HERE ALWAYS (SEUNGMIN)

TOWER OF GOD: TOP (STRAY KIDS)

TOWER OF GOD: SLUMP (STRAY KIDS)

these are collabs i know exist:

GOING DUMB - ALESSO X STRAY KIDS X CORSAK

JUST BREATHE - SKY-HI feat. 3RACHA (CHAN, CHANGBIN, HAN)

MIRROR MIRROR - F.HERO x MILLI feat. CHANGBIN

NO PROBLEM - NAYEON (TWICE) feat. FELIX

COVERS:

they have covered tons of songs, from voice to choreos, whether on studios or live, and it's a little impossible to compile all of them, but i'll be completing this list as i come across them:

(most of the covers in this list came from a video i found, by user Cray K, and it's from january, 2019, so they are featured on the same video):

AS IF IT'S YOUR LAST - (originally by BLACKPINK)

GO CRAZY + HANDS UP - (originally by 2PM)

NEW FACE - (originally by PSY)

WARRIOR'S DESCENDANT - (originally by H.O.T)

IT'S RAINING - (originally by RAIN)

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY - (originally by TWICE)

WHO'S YOUR MAMA -(originally by JYP)

GOODBYE BABY - (originally by MISS A)

LOOK - (originally by GOT7)

DNA - (originally by BTS)

HARD CARRY - (originally by GOT7)

GROWL + OVERDOSE - (originally byEXO)

DIONYSIUS - (originally by BTS)

BANG, BANG, BANG - (originally by BIG BANG)

FANCY - (originally by TWICE)

MY HOUSE - (originally by 2PM)

ADORE U - (originally by SEVENTEEN)

LIKE OOH AHH - (originally by TWICE)

AGAIN & AGAIN - (originally by 2PM)

HISTORY OF K-POP: Stray Kids X NCT DREAM (featuring felix' iconic "BOOM SHAKA LAKA, WOW FANTASTIC" that you see everywhere)

INDIVIDUAL/TWO PEOPLE COVERS: it also includes other people that were featuring the songs. these might get confusing because most titles are in korean, but i did my best to find the original artists' names romanized and the songs' titles:

위로 ("consolation) |artist: 권진아 = KWON JIN-AH |cover by I.N

GHOST |artist: Justin Bieber| cover by SEUNGMIN

ZOMBIE |artist: DAY6 - cover by HAN, SEUNGMIN

향기만 남아 ("memory of your scent") |artist: 허각 = HUH GAK - covered by I.N

3108 |artist: 하현상 = HA HYUNSANG |cover by SEUNGMIN

LOVE AGAIN |artist: 백현 = BAEKHYUN - covered by SEUNGMIN

너였다면 ("if it is you")/ artist: 정승환 = JUNG SEUNG-HWAN - covered by I.N

시작 ("start") |artist: 가호 = GAHO |cover by SEUNGMIN

그렇게 있어 줘 ("stay as you are") |artist: 산들 - SANDEUL |cover by SEUNGMIN

CONGRATULATIONS |artist: DAY6 |cover by HAN, SEUNGMIN

예뻤어 ("you were beatiful") |artist: DAY6 |covered by SEUNGMIN

ME! |artist: Taylor Swift |covered by Tzuyu (from TWICE feat. CHAN)

PSYCHO |artist: Red Velvet |covered by HYUNJIN (SKZ), SANHA (ASTRO), BOMIN (GOLDEN CHILD), DAEHWI AB6IX

여름 안에서("in summer) |artist: DEUX |covered by FELIX, 우기 (SONG YUQI), 영훈 (THE BOYZ)

"TOMORROW" |artist: ? |covered by CHANGBIN (on masked singer)

CITY OF STARS |artist: ? |covered by FELIX, LIA (ITZY), CHAN

there's a bunch of other covers made in variety shows besides live performances, so i'm just gonna leave this link for you to see everything is compiled.

#stray kids #maxident #noeasy #oddinary #bang chan #lee felix #han jisung #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #i.n #hwang hyunjin

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tobiasdrake · 3 months

Note

How strong is Mr. Mark "Hercule" Satan in the manga? From what I know, in the anime we see him either vanish or use the afterimage technique (forget which) and I think dodge bullets - is that in the manga too, or he is just meant to be at the peak of real-life human ability (like the guys Kid Goku and Krillin fight in the preliminaries of the World Tournament)?

Peak of human ability. Within human limits, Mr. Satan is the world's greatest martial artist.

Right off the bat, he's identified by martial arts lore guy Yamcha as the martial arts champion of the world. The Cell Games reporter, known in the dub as Jimmy Firecracker, corroborates this statement at the tournament.

The anime hypes him up by pulling multiple buses and ripping phone books in half. However, in the manga, the Cell Games start like right after Mr. Satan steps out on-panel for the first time and gives his speech. Goku and the others have one chapter to wrap up the revival of Shenron and then it's off to the tournament.

The first we see of what he can really do is when he steps into the ring, bringing with him a tremendous demonstration of his power.

Jimmy's right. This is very impressive.

Uh. Within human limits.

It's just that we're a bit beyond that baseline by this point.

Incidentally, a common misconception for Mr. Satan is that he won the 24th Tenkaichi Budokai leading up to the Cell Games. He did not. The Tenkaichi Budokai was cancelled after Piccolo nuked the island it was held on, and wouldn't be revived until after the Cell Games.

That said, he did compete in it after the Cell Games, and he did win the gold.

This is a very easily confused plot point, so much so that even the Daizenshuu gets it wrong and pegs the 24th as having just happened five days before the Androids activated.

But although Mr. Satan was the world champion, he was not the champion of that tournament. Not yet.

All indications seem to be that Mr. Satan won the 24th legitimately. No tricks, no shenanigans, no fooling around. The punch machine records Satan at 137 points of... whatever measurement they're using.

It's just a couple points under the all-time record set at the 24th, also by Mr. Satan.

This slightly lower reading is probably due to the, uh, changes in his workout regimen since the 24th.

We never get to see this tournament, but we get a glimpse of it and its structure through its contestants. A few of the contestants at the 25th are veterans from the 24th, coming back to try and take another crack at the champ.

Satan is the leader of this pack, having won his championship belt in a stunning final bout against Jewel that left the announcer underwhelmed and disappointed.

Goku and his rivals have absolutely ruined this man for standard human-level martial arts. They've raised the bar so high, Mr. Satan couldn't possibly compare.

Though, by Gohan's estimation, Videl's outgrown him too.

Had the 25th not had all these aliens and gods and warlocks cluttering it up, there's a real chance this tournament would have ended in Videl dethroning her father in the finals. Something I would dearly pay to see.

As far as dodging bullets, I think the closest he comes to that is when these two idiots attack Buu.

When he scurries out of the way of this RPG they fire at Majin Buu. Though we don't see how far he got, as he momentarily vanishes from the manga following this blast. Perspective remains on the attackers reloading and firing on Buu some more while Satan makes his way to their position under cover of tunnel vision.

The actual gun that's shot at him in this fight hits its mark. But also it was a shot from behind so he couldn't have dodged it even if he could dodge bullets.

So I'm gonna call that "inconclusive" on whether he can dodge bullets. By battleboard logic, I'm sure escaping the RPG is an incredible feat. Mr. Satan is only peak human but, like, so is Batman. He's within human limits, but "human limits" can be extremely flexible in animation.

This is the same kind of thing as when cartoon characters dodge lasers.

And that's Mr. Satan's career in a nutshell. He's the biggest fish of a small pond (except for his daughter who's outgrown him). Talented and formidable in his own right, supremely impressive within his weight class, but woefully out of his league.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #mr satan

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katyawriteswhump · 8 months

Text

the power of love part 2 (new steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one here Also on AO3 (where it's tragically in need of some love *sobs*) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Chapter Two

Steve POV

Steve blinks his eyes open. Fear lurches then fades. Leaning over him, kinda blurry, are… Robin? Munson!?! He’s at home. Lying on the couch in his parents’ living room, to be precise.

“Steve? You back with us?” Robin appears wild-eyed, spooked out. She’s holding a bloodied cloth over his bat bites, which stab like new again.

Steve presses the heel of his hand to his brow, disguising his pained whimper with a shaky, “Yeeeeah.”

“Phew! Not delirious? Only a bit woozy, huh?”

“You seriously still shitting yourself about rabies?”

“To be honest, no. That’s slithered so far down my list of things to lose my mind over, I’d forgotten. Trust me, he’s as likely to have it as you now.”

Eddie, who hovers at her shoulder, pokes out his tongue, kinda jokey. The rest of Eddie’s face is still slightly blood-smeared. Haunted. His hair is a mad mess, his bandana repurposed as a bandage about his elbow. Steve glances down his own aching body, which is damp, vaguely shivery. Near naked, in fact, with a towel tucked around his waist.

Oh yeah. He went for a swim, and then…

“Shit! Are you seriously mopping my blood with Mom’s linen napkins?” Steve tries to push himself up, and flops back down, humiliatingly fast. On top of that, his head throbs—when does it not, these days? He makes a more concerted effort to sit, forcing himself through a wave of nausea and dizziness, then notices: “Shit, shit, SHIT! I’ve bled on the couch—this cost a thousand bucks!”

“I knew there was a reason Wayne avoided white faux leather,” says Eddie, as he and Robin share a look. “Oh, and a Munson never splashes less than fifteen-hundred bucks on soft furnishings.”

“You’re hilarious,” mutters Steve.

“Your Pops can chew my head off,” says Eddie. “Some of that blood is yours truly’s. I mean, I got got bad. Really bad. And theeeeen… I got better.” He narrows his eyes to inquisitorial slits, which bewilder Steve, given how rough he feels.

Robin lifts the ruined napkin. “You’re bleeding like before Wheeler first bandaged you up. It makes no sense.”

“Nothing’s made sense for about two and a half years,” Steve points out. Actually, scratch that. Little of his life has made much sense. “There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen, with proper bandages. Where did you think I got the Hibistat towelettes from? Didn’t you morons think to look?”

Robin hurries off. Eddie takes over holding the now thoroughly disgusting napkin over Steve’s bites. “Woah, he’s not lying,” she calls. “His parents keep an actual first aid kit with actual useful crap in it.”

“Yeah, in case you forgot in the last thirty seconds,” says Steve, “the Harrington family bleed.”

“It doesn’t even come out green,” Eddie says. “Totally destroys your ‘rich folk are aliens’ theory, Buckley.”

“Haha,” snarks Steve.

“This might take a minute,” calls Robin. “I had no idea there were so many sorts of dressings. We don’t want a triangle one, huh?”

Left alone, Eddie doesn’t seem able to look Steve in the eye. He’s giving off such awkward vibes that Steve takes pity, nudges Eddie’s hand away, holds the napkin himself.

“I guess this is where I thank you for saving my life,” says Eddie.

“From what I could gather from Dustin, you’d only gone and done the same for us. Not a hero? Total bull.”

“Those weren’t normal circumstances.”

Eddie’s so squirmy, Steve flinches away too. He’s felt drawn to Eddie for some time. He likes the guy way more than he’d expected, finds he likes looking at him too, crazy rocker tresses and all, but… Jesus Christ! Talk about shitty timing.

It’s not the first time Steve’s been blindsided by a crush on a guy. Plus, he knows Eddie is queer; he’s one of the few other friends that Robin’s lately ‘come out’ to. However, Steve’s simply not gotten the energy to figure out if the weird fizzle of chemistry he feels is all in his head. What he really wants is to stagger upstairs to bed and sleep for a week. No time for that, though. He groans, threads the fingers of his free hand through his damp hair.

“We need to take advantage of this earthquake chaos. Get you outta town right now before somebody comes looking.”

“Yeah. I figured as much.” Eddie sighs hard. “No more facing down ferocious monsters. I return to being Eddie the Banished.”

“Not much choice, man. Look, we can bring bedding, whatever supplies we need from here. Take one of Dad’s cars and find a place to lay low till we know what’s happening and what the next plan of attack is.”

“You were worried about the couch and now you’re suggesting we jack your Pop’s wheels?”

“I don’t give a crap about the furniture—it was a dumb knee jerk reaction. I mean, things change. People change. Last time I looked, we weren’t exactly bestest buds.”

Now we’re off saving each other’s lives.

A loud crash from the kitchen slices between them. “Sorry!” yells Robin. “Kinda dropped… everything.”

“Need some help there, Rob?” Steve tries to push himself to his feet. His head rush is instant and epic; his vision blacks out, nearly taking his entire consciousness with it.

“Easy, easy!” Eddie’s arms are around him, clumsily guiding him back down. Steve whimpers before he can stop himself; his stomach churns and he feels painfully sick. Eddie wedges a cushion beneath Steve’s head, presses the cloth back to Steve’s bleeding side. “Robin’s right. You need those injuries looked at. I go alone.”

“No.” Steve snatches a shaky breath. “Way I see it, we’re both deep in the shit."

“I’m the one with the murder rap snapping at my butt, Harrington.”

“And I’m the one who’s been harbouring a known fugitive, stealing Winnebagos, and Christ knows what else. Crap, I bet they’ll blame me for Nance’s sawn-off shotgun. While the rest of those underage brats get off light, I’ll be dragged to jail as sure as you.”

“Your daddy can afford a lawyer, man.” At least Eddie’s looking at Steve now. His words still feel like a punch in Steve’s already bleeding gut—with those knuckle dusters that’d gotten lost somewhere on the ride.

Steve retaliates with as daggers a glare as he can conjure: “You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.”

Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

...

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, I would probably cry... in a good way, honest! Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :)

#steddie #steve harrington whump #platonic stobin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington hc #stranger things fanfic #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #stobin #steve harrington fanfic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction

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iris0-0 · 1 month

Text

Ellie & Dina w/a pregnant!friend reader

(Feat Maria)

-Ellie and Dina are girlfriends still in this.

✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿

Dina w/a pregnant!friend reader who just got back to Jackson after a few different long patrol and supply runs immediately hugging reader not noticing how much she’s grown.

D: “Oh baby is getting big.” She coos gently touching your stomach. “I remembered you weren’t a man and was so confused as to what was poking me.”

Ellie with a pregnant!friend reader who was traveling with Dina.

E: “Wow you’ve gotten big!” She exclaims holding out her arms in a circle as to show the size of your belly.

D:”Ellie! I’m sure you mean the baby has gotten big.” Dina says scolding.

E:”The baby isn’t out yet…”

And before Dina can tell Ellie the potential rudeness of her comment you put your hand on your arm shaking your head. The two of you knew Ellie didn’t mean it in a bad way…

✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿

Ellie & Dina w/a pregnant!friend reader who have weekly sleepovers.

Ellie would sleep in her boxers and whatever top she had on, while Dina had actual pajama shorts and a top. You who had gotten uncomfortable with the heat and stretch of clothes from the baby chooses to just wear a bra. She bouta pop istg.

E: “Are you sure you aren’t having like…four babies?” She questions studying the bump.

D:”Ellie!” Once again scolding her girlfriend. “If I’m ever pregnant and you act like this you’re sleeping on the couch.

Ellie surrenders with her hands up.

D:”Always so damn unfiltered.”

✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿

Dina w/a pregnant!friend reader who is the most comforting and supportive friend to have and lean on.

But….

Ellie w/a pregnant!friend reader who doesn’t understand hormones, food cravings, and being pregnant in general.

E:”…do you want some water?”

✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿

-Dina would be honored to be there during the labor process to support you and assist Maria…Ellie…it’s not her thing.

-Ellie would definitely try and help afterwards though.

E:”Why is it still slimey. It’s like a little alien”

Ellie who also wouldn’t understand the little one’s fascinations as it grew such as staring at her.

E:”Dina it’s looking at me again.” Would have a full on staring contest.

✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿ ✿✿✿✿✿✿

#imagine #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams #comfort #dina tlou #dina woodward #scenarios #pregnant reader #maria miller

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hoshinoyozora · 1 year

Text

The Immortal’s Feelings

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Reader feat. Silver

💛 Word Count: 0,7k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!***

I’m not a psychology student, but I think it’s interesting how (forced) transformation can affect human psyche. Then again, my depiction won’t be perfect considering I’m someone with neutral feelings nearly all the time (at least enough until some people close to me call me emotionless lmao).

“Why did you become a knight, Silver?”

You sipped the tea calmly and gracefully; an act that was enough to make the majority of people here acknowledged you as their queen, but never enough to make them accept you. At least, all those tedious lessons about table manners paid off somewhat.

“Because I want to repay my father and His Majesty’s kindness.”

“I see.” you mused, putting down the cup on the saucer with a soft clink. “So, I guess no matter what I do, you’ll always be loyal to him, huh…”

Silver gripped his knees.

“You are the queen, so I’ll still obey your orders.”

“Anyone can obey me, but not everyone can be loyal to me. That’s probably the first thing I’ve learned since my… coronation.”

You hated that word. It sounded too noble, too posh, too heavy. As if it was something you should be honored with, rejoiced over. It might be better to rule over the people who hated you rather than live among them, but it didn’t make the experience any less unpleasant.

“I won’t lie and say that what he did was right, but fairies tend to love intensely.”

“And humans love freedom. They need it, even. But, at the end of the day, I’m just an artificial fae, aren’t I?” you sneered. “Even humanity feels alien to me now, like a concept too abstract for me to understand.”

The last part came out more as a heartfelt confession than a bitter remark. Sometimes you woke up and felt a deep hollowness inside your chest, as if someone had ripped your heart out and left you as a husk. Or a robot, because you were still functional. Yes, you did your duty as a queen and a wife; a routine that was as normal as sleeping and eating now. There were times when you experienced any kind of emotion too, and you quickly forgot the reason behind it. Why were you happy? Why were you sad? It didn’t make any sense. Your brain had overpowered your body at this point, and what was left of your heart was used to accommodate the petty offense over an insult, perceived or not.

Back then, you would’ve called it embarrassing. Nobody should be sensitive enough to attack someone just because they forgot to greet you. But now, you’d made great use of Malleus by ordering him to publicly humiliate the offender. Something still caught you from committing a worst act, though, and you weren’t sure whether you should be relieved or not. Whether it was your lingering humanity or the warnings you’d gotten from people who deemed themselves important enough to not embarrass yourself.

And yet, Malleus was happy. Proud, even. Although you’d learned it was much better to use him than defy him, anger would resurface and remind you that asking for his help was similar to needing him. Then, memories of him forcing you to marry him and transforming you into a pathetic, subpar version of himself would spark all the forgotten feelings, only for them to disappear when you tried so hard to remember why you hated Malleus in the first place.

It was a confusing event all around, and your husband, with his limited knowledge of human psyche and the effect of your transformation, chalked it up to ‘mood swing’. Still, it did change your attitude to everyone else and led them to look at you the same way they looked at Malleus; with fear, and probably less respect.

After all, you were nothing without him.

But then, you spotted Silver helping his sparring partner from the ground and remembered that humanity was about helping each other. At least, that was what you thought, until you heard his explanation.

“… I have nothing to say, Your Majesty.” Silver admitted shamefully.

You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Of course, you don’t. You’re just a human raised by faes. You know about humanity as much as I do.” You waved your hand dismissively. “Now, leave. I want to be alone right now.”

You heard the chair scrape against the stone masonry, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge his respectful bow. It was only after he went inside the castle, did you open your eyes and peer down through the balcony.

A few mortal servants and knights scattered here and there, and you wondered whether you could sway this minority group to join your side with your experiences as a former human.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #twst imagines #yandere twst #female reader #malleus draconia #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus draconia #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #twisted wonderland malleus #silver #twst silver

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dr-futbol-blog · 1 month

Text

The Siege III, Pt. 3

We join McKay and his security escort as they are trying to make their way toward the power room with the brand new ZPM. Their progress is stalled by the wraith that seem to block their way. One of the marines does actually shield McKay using his own body, leading him to stay hidden while they assess the situation. McKay is getting anxious as they are under a time element:

McKay: That's the way we have to go!

One of the marines communicates with the other using tactical hand-signals and, probably because he is exhausted and running on a stimulant affecting his ability to focus, McKay cannot seem to keep quiet:

McKay: What was that? I didn't get all that. What do I do? Look, I'm getting good at the rolling things, maybe I can--

So, McKay has been learning to roll, is the thing. He has been learning how to do combat rolls, probably referring especially to the forward roll. Now, rolling is an important skill to have and given that he is a part of a team that does frequent missions on alien worlds, he should be learning practical skills like that. Here, McKay seems to mean that he hasn't got a handle on the tactical hand-signals yet (and he never quite seems to get the hang of them) but he has been learning other military skills.

And we can safely assume that it is Sheppard who has been teaching him these things. Teaching the physically weakest link in his team self-defense skills is something Sheppard should have been doing regardless of what he might feel for the man but given that we have seen how protective Sheppard is of McKay to the point of killing actual human beings to keep him safe, it makes sense that he would have dedicated time for that. It is, after all, a skill he could have used on one of their very first away missions in Suspicion (S01E4).

And here, we are told that someone has been teaching McKay rolling. We haven't seen them do it but we are told that McKay has been learning it and it is not a skill he would learn on his own, someone must have been teaching him off-screen. This could only have been Sheppard or Ford, and given that Sheppard was the one to put a gun in his hand, he seems like the likely candidate. And since it's doubtful McKay would be the kind of person to learn it just from observing someone do it, it must have been hands-on instruction.

He also says he has been getting good at it which means that they must have done this a lot, given that he has no natural aptitude for physical feats. But we don't get to see it. Of course we don't. There is no way in hell they could show just Sheppard teaching McKay how to forward roll because that would give away the game. It is difficult to show someone touching another as a colleague when they have been touching them like a lover.

Teaching McKay self-defense is on brand for Sheppard but doing forward rolls is not going to help him in this situation. Even the marines are no match for the wraith and even though they manage to take out two of them, both men of his escort are stunned by a wraith drone soldier. But having been around Sheppard, having been with Sheppard in many tense situations, probably is what allowed him to be as cool as he was while this shoot-out was taking place.

But after the marines are incapacitated McKay is alone, the wraith closing in on him. There are two of them and he still stands in front of the ZPM to protect it from them, ready to lay down his own life for everyone else. He has only his handgun, which he points at the wraith. He seems ready to take the wraith on and it is only the appearance of the second one that paralyzes him. Both of the wraith have their stunners aimed at him but they do not take the shot and it's possibly because McKay's behaviour confuses them. They have never seen a human act this way.

McKay: So! This is how it's gonna be? Just me?!

Again, the scene is played for comedy. While we have seen McKay unload two clips into a wraith that was standing much further away than these two drones in The Defiant One (S01E12), here it is made to seem as though he cannot even hold a gun. He accidentally releases the clip, effectively disarming himself. This might be the effect of his exhaustion, as we know that he is able to shoot a weapon. We saw Sheppard teach him how on screen. We have seen him do it but here, either due to exhaustion or anxiety, the fact that they are severely pressed for time and people often make mistakes when they are in a haste, he fails. And as soon as he realizes what he has done and how much trouble he is in, he ducks behind a corner and calls for help.

McKay: This is McKay--I'm in trouble down here!

This too is played for comic effect. As though he is such a coward that he has to scream for help. The fate of the entire Earth depends on him making it to the power room with the ZPM so choosing to to try protect himself while calling for back-up is the reasonable thing to do. This is not the time to play the hero, to make foolhardy gestures and exhibit bravado. There is no one he needs to impress here, and in fact he has only recently learned that somewhere out there in space, his reason for living was alive and well. McKay needs help, they all need him to survive, and he is not afraid to let that show because in spite of his fear, he is a very brave man. And making as much sound as he did was a good call too, as it lead Teyla straight to him, and she takes care of the two wraith with ease.

Teyla: Doctor McKay? Are you alright? McKay: Teyla! We thought you were... Teyla: My radio was broken and I was separated from my group. I have been trying to make my way back. McKay: Oh, thank God! I mean, you have no idea, I thought I was going to-- Teyla: I thought you were very brave. McKay: Really?

McKay is glad to hear that she thinks him brave, although he does not seem to quite believe it. Teyla does not respond to McKay's question, which could be interpreted as her not really meaning what she just said. But her non-response actually seems to be due to being distracted by McKay protecting the case with the ZPM, confused as to what McKay is doing down here in the first place and what it is he seems to be guarding with his life. There is no reason for Teyla to not think of McKay as heroic, facing off with the wraith on his own and with very little training. There is no reason to think what she said to McKay wasn't heartfelt. She has seen enough people come apart before the wraith in her life that she recognizes bravery where she finds it. She also knows that McKay has a set of skills that she does not have, that protecting him is important for all of them. Hence, as McKay explains the situation to her, she automatically takes on the role of protecting him.

Teyla: Lead the way McKay: Yeah, sure... After you.

A brief note here: McKay tells Teyla to go first the way as a gentleman would tell a lady, "After you" being a classic expression of courtesy. Only, we know McKay is no gentleman and does not treat women as ladies because for some strange reason he feels no need to impress women with his chivalrous behaviour. He clearly wants Teyla to go first so that she could take care of what ever evils might be lurking before them. He isn't even pretending to be chivalrous, he needs to get this box to the power room to save everyone on the base and to protect the Earth, and he's not mincing words in telling her to take point to make sure that he gets there.

Meanwhile on the Daedalus, Sheppard's plan to take out the hive by transporting a nuke directly into it works. This also has the effect of causing the smaller cruiser vessels to tuck tail and take off into hyperspace. However, his plan also seems to backfire, as the remaining darts target the city. Sheppard is the first to notice this because protecting Atlantis and the people therein is a priority for him:

Sheppard: We're not the target. Kleinman: Major Sheppard is right, sir. The formation is headed toward Atlantis. Sheppard: Elizabeth, you've got a problem. Weir: Yeah, we see that, Major. Sheppard: We're moving to intercept but I don't think we can get there in time. Kleinman: Not a chance. They're coming in too fast.

Sheppard engages Weir by calling her "Elizabeth" to get her full and immediate attention because it is crucial that she understands what he is saying to her. When Sheppard tells Weir that there is a problem coming their way, Weir interprets it as him addressing all of them. And it is true that they all have a problem with the ballistic approach of the darts. There is no way Sheppard could have predicted the wraith to use this strategy but in effect it was his idea that has now placed the city in further jeopardy. And he can see that the shield, which McKay was meant to get up and running, still isn't working. As much as he tried to avoid piling the pressure on McKay earlier, if there ever was a time to kick McKay into gear, seconds from his own destruction would be the time. He also needs to know that nothing has happened to McKay and that he's still working on getting the shield up:

Sheppard: You'd better get the damned shield up! Weir: How much time do we have? Zelenka: Forty-five seconds. Weir: Rodney, we need a shield up in forty seconds or we're dead!

But make note of the fact that Sheppard does not say this to McKay, he does not use this tone of voice with McKay. In fact, the tone he uses with Weir here is not one that he has ever used with McKay beyond when he had a life-sucking bug attached to his neck, and even in this moment it has more to do with Sheppard kicking himself than being truly upset with Weir. Sheppard and McKay are not in contact with each other. Sheppard is in contact with the control room and the control room is in contact with McKay. Weir is once more the go-between connecting the two of them. While he would never say what he says in this way to McKay, he does need Weir to get him to hurry up. Sheppard knows that snapping doesn't help McKay focus because McKay has told him as much, so Sheppard knows to engage him using other means. But effectively they are all putting all of the pressure on McKay to resolve the situation:

Weir: Rodney, we need a shield up in forty seconds or we're dead! McKay: What, are you kidding me?! Weir: No! McKay: Because I can't help but thinking you're just trying to determine the point at which I completely snap. Weir: Rodney! McKay: That should do it! Fire it up.

Having recently witnessed the point in which Sheppard had completely snapped Weir very much does not want to see McKay's snapping point. These two men were going to be the death of her.

Weir: That didn't do it. McKay: What? Teyla: It is not working. McKay: I know what she said! Weir: Twenty seconds! McKay: OK, snap! That's it! You all happy now?! Weir: Rodney! McKay: OK, OK, OK. Try it now!

Everyone is looking to McKay to save them which is nothing new. McKay is actually trying to tell them that snapping doesn't help him in so many words. He also knows from Childhood's End (S01E05) that rushing is the quickest way to make the ZPM malfunction. It's also different when Sheppard isn't the one trying to get him to work faster. There's a similar scene in the beginning of Sanctuary (S01E14), a tense situation that Sheppard is expecting McKay to fix (which is not his normal behaviour but is him trying to act more like McKay's CO and to keep a professional distance to him, ie., acting the way all the people around him are acting now). Their communication is much more efficient:

Sheppard: McKay? McKay: I'm on it. Sheppard: McKay! McKay: I'm almost there! Okay, you should have weapons now. Sheppard: Negative. McKay: Are you sure? Sheppard: Positive! McKay: I'm pretty sure I fixed it. Sheppard: Well, obviously you didn't! McKay! McKay: It's not like I'm holding back on you!

Sheppard is able to communicate with McKay only by saying his name in different ways. And McKay is able to understand him when he is only saying his name in different ways. Even though Sheppard says only his name, with him McKay never has to waste time asking what he means or to stop to answer stupid questions or react to inane comments, which just serve to slow him down. McKay and Sheppard work extremely efficiently together. If they had been in direct contact, the exchange probably would have gone something like:

Sheppard: McKay? McKay: That should do, fire it up! Sheppard: Negative. McKay! McKay: OK, try it now!

But regardless of everyone trying to get on McKay's last nerve, he manages to plug the ZPM in and Zelenka gets the shield up in the nick of time. The darts crash into the shield and then Atlantis goes radio silent. John Sheppard fears the worst.

Continued in Pt. 4

#sga #stargate atlantis #sga meta #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. the siege #ep. sanctuary #ep. suspicion #ep. the defiant one #ep. childhood's end

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i-mean-technically · 2 years

Text

an exchange of culture

a small fic for an event in my server!

“Merry Christmas, Optimus!”

The cheery shout drew everyone’s attention to the pink striped girl, who was wearing a bright red hat with white trim. Next to her was Raf with a shy grin and gripping something in his hand and dark-haired Jack with silver frills in a necklace wrapped around him.

“Good morning, Miko,” Optimus returned, having a vague idea of what she was referring to. “Your hat is well-made.”

She grinned brightly up at him, bouncing in place. “Thanks! Ms. Darby showed me how to use a sewing machine. I made it myself.”

“An impressive feat,” Optimus replied, feeling a small smile tug at his lips. The children were always bringing something new into their lives, and always kept things from getting dull. “Is there a special occasion for your attire?”

Somehow Miko’s smile got even wider. “It’s Christmas! Best holiday America came up with.”

Agent Fowler snorted from where he was typing up a report. “She’s not wrong,” he called out, not looking up from squinting at his screen.

“It has turned into a capitalist nightmare,” Jack agreed with a tilt of his head, and Optimus saw him twitch when his skin touched the silver necklace.

“Fuck the government!”

“Language!” Many voices said at once, and Optimus turned down the sensitivity of his audials once again.

“Isn’t Fowler legally required to arrest you now?”

“This place technically doesn’t exist.” Fowler still hasn’t looked away from the monitor.

“That means no rules!”

“Upt, upt, upt! There are rules. Many, in fact!” Ratchet had his hands on hips and was frowning down at the children.

“Not that Miko actually follows them,” Jack teased. Optimus was glad that the boy-no, young man, had grown comfortable enough to do so. Even just a few months ago Jack would have stayed silent, hanging back from them.

“Psh,” Miko waved her hand at Ratchet and Optimus had to hide a smile at the indignant expression on his old friend’s face. “Rules suck, and presents are awesome.”

That got every one of his Autobot’s attention. **Presents? For us?** Bumblebee asked, doorwings hiking up in excitement.

Optimus found himself intrigued as well. No one has gotten a gift in… a long time. Their current base was technically a loan, as was most of their equipment. A gift, from their young charges…

Something warm bubbled in his chest, spark feeling too big for its casing.

“Yep!” Miko was beaming, eyes nearly glowing. Jack and Raf drew up behind her as Optimus felt his bots gather around the balcony. He knew that she couldn’t understand the young scout, but it wasn’t hard to guess what could have been said. “We didn’t really know what to get giant alien robots sooooo we’re kinda just winging it.”

“And Raf’s really the only one who celebrates anyway,” Jack added.

“I thought it was something all humans did,” Bulkhead said, sounding confused. Optimus was as well.

“A lot of humans, sure,” Jack said with a shrug before scowling and lifting the necklace off and placing it over Raf’s head like a crown. “But my dad was Jewish and Mom doesn’t celebrate any holidays.”

“I’m not Christian,” Miko said with a shrug. “Doesn’t stop me from wanting to do presents though.”

“It’s pretty big in my family,” Raf said, smiling up at them. “Christmas is the one time of year that everyone comes home and is together. We celebrate family more than Jesus.”

“And you’re family!” Miko said before Optimus could ask more about Jesus from the point of view of the children. “So we’re celebrating together.”

“Everyone comes home, huh?” Bulkhead murmured with a sad sort of smile that had grief pulling down at Optimus’ spark.

“Yep,” Jack said. The way he said it got everyone’s attention. “Bulkhead’s present is first, special delivery even.”

Optimus could feel the confusion spread around them just before the proximity alarm goes off and Wheeljack comes screeching into the base later.

He transformed with a flourish, walking towards Optimus and his stunned Autobots. He spread his arms and a smirk crossed his scarred face. “Why the long faces? Did the party get canceled?”

Bulkhead shook off his shock first and released a booming laugh, rushing towards his friend. “Ha ha! Jackie!”

Optimus stood back near the humans as his Autobots, his family, came together eagerly. He glanced down at Jack, noticing that Miko was already racing towards the reunited Wreckers. “This was very kind of you to do, Jack.”

The young man shrugged, rubbing the back of his head. “Miko wanted to have a party, and get a gift for Bulkhead. Raf’s the one who found Wheeljack’s comm.”

The warmth in Optimus’ spark spread to the rest of his body, and he very carefully reached out to tap Jack on the top of his head. “Merry Christmas, Jack Darby.”

Jack grinned up at Optimus. “Happy holidays, Optimus Prime.”

#transformers #transformers prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bulkhead #wheeljack #jack darby #miko nadakai #rafael esquivel #tfp #maccadam #my writing #transformers fic #my fic #event fill

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witchofanguish · 3 months

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I think this is worth digging into because... yes. In the arguments which feed the roots of Vs Debates this is easier to ignore - if you're ultimately arguing about metal cans shooting each other in space then you can pretend they could exist in the same world, that what they are is comparable. However, this is a pretense. We can see it shatter obviously in cases like, say, Mage the Ascension, where the entire debate hinges on which cosmology you're accepting, because mages are only limited to relatively (by Vs Debates standards) limited feats due to an actively hostile environment, or TypeMoon. Is the Death Star an A-rank mystery? Would a Space Marine landing in MtAsc Manhattan explode from paradox? The answer is asking there questions marks you as deeply deranged. Okay, but Batman is a human, right? Supposedly made out of atoms and whatever? Why can't we compare him to humans? Well, no. To sound utterly pedantic, he's a fictional character, not a human. If a human kicks a tree and it bursts apart, we can conclude 'holy shit I do not want to be kicked by them, they've got TNT thighs'. We live in a world ultimately dictated by the standard model and general relativity. It has rules. The force it takes to blow apart a tree and to cave in a man's chest are relatable. If Batman kicks a tree and it flies apart, and you flip the page thinking 'oh man, oh man batman is going to cave in a man's chest in his next fight' you'd be wrong, you fool, he's going to get held up by a bunch of untrained dudes in sweaters holding pipes. The tree is for aesthetic, for looks and metaphor and style. It's an RPG character getting an unopposed roll against a piece of scenery and the GM saying 'yeah, go for it, break apart that tree in your rage, i'm not giving you a bonus to your attack rolls in the next fight'. Now, granted, if you saw Batman get held up by a couple dudes with lead pipes and figured a squad of ten ninjas or Darkseid, evil alien god, would destroy him you'd also be wrong. This is why 'feats' and 'calcs' for Batman don't matter. They aren't predictive. The aesthetic is. Some stories have calcs which meet their aesthetic decently well - the Culture, for example - and so we can use the calcs as a lesser substitute, sometimes. Other stories, like Mage the Ascension, have feats so contextual that a Vs Debate always starts and is mostly decided by which aesthetic you're letting predominate. So what's the aesthetic of Batman against 160,000 nerds? Well, it's... nonsense. That's not a number even the most ambitious comic book writer would throw at him, just use a decently big crowd of a couple hundred, and it's such a bizarre set-up that being 'in-character' is actively confusing things. But if Batman did have to fight a big crowd, how would he do it? Probably not with his fists. If he was in an enclosed area and it wasn't 100,000+ he might punch them out, one or two at a time, ending with a panel of the bloody, bruised Caped Crusader limping out of the basement of some seedy nightclub only to collapse into the Batmobile, which drives him back to Wayne Manor. If it was a bit more open - like a theatre, huh wonder if we've seen that - he'd fight for a bit and find some trick to escape and possibly trap/disable them. If it was really open he'd grapple out or call in his Batmobile's Tesla Autopilot Mode for pickup. If it was maze-like he'd use stealth. But in a big open arena, against 100,000, it's not in Batman's aesthetic to fight them at all. Edit: If the question that comes to you after reading this is 'why are you in Vs Debates, then?' And the answer is I'm looking for a good story about who would win. Or a good joke about how. The problem is a six megajoule kick, in this thread, is a joke being treated like a story.

#sufficient velocity #maybe I'll be able to find this post again someday #haven't the last three times

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random-iz-stuff · 1 year

Note

Hey, I know you usually talk more about Zim, but I have a question about Dib: What do you think is he an anti-hero or anti-villain or neither? I got kind of confused with the terms, so I'd like to read your thoughts about it to get a clearer picture.

Let’s see:

Anti-Hero:

A character that has and/or uses traditionally evil or negative qualities to do an ultimately good thing. Or, they might do the right thing, but for non-heroic reasons, like purely out of self-interest or monetary gain.

Basically: A heroic character that is heavily flawed, and/or morally ambiguous. Their goals are good but their methods are questionable at worst.

Anti-Villain:

A character with heroic goals, personality traits, and/or virtues who is ultimately the villain. Usually, their desired ends are mostly good, but their means of getting to that point aren’t.

Basically: A villainous character with some redeeming qualities, like a goal that’s ultimately heroic, even if extremely evil things need to be done to achieve it. Their goals are good but their methods go way beyond just “questionable” into “definitely evil” territory.

At least I think that’s the definitions of both? It’s a bit confusing for me too so these definitions (ESPECIALLY the Anti-Villain ones) are probably at least partially flawed.

Anyways, Dib if definitely an Anti-Hero in my eyes. He’s doing the ultimately heroic act of protecting the Earth, but he’s also a little shit that’s willing to sink lower than even Zim goes in order to win. Zim constantly provides flaws in his plans and traps for Dib to exploit unless he’s trying to get petty revenge or believes that he’s in genuine life threatening danger, and then Dib is willing to torture Zim to a slow death via PAK deprivation without a second thought. There’s also the fact that every time the two work together, Zim is the one to initiate the team up (even if he hesitates to do so and clearly dislikes it) and if the two of them betray each other during that team up, it’s always Dib that does it without a hint of hesitation.

Plus, many people forget that Dib’s motivation for protecting the Earth isn’t “because it’s the right thing to do” or even “because I live here” but simply because Zim is Dib’s ticket to making it big as a paranormal investigator. Killing Zim will prove that Dib is right about all his paranormal research and theories and that’s why he goes for him. Protecting the Earth is a byproduct of that somewhat influenced by the fact that without Earth, there’s no one for Dib to prove anything to.

Dib’s Wonderful Life Of Doom is the best example of this, because once Dib actually gets what he wants and captures Zim, he immediately uses Zim as springboard to go accomplish other feats of paranormal research, not caring about the Irken Armada until Zim personally points it out to him years later. It was never about protecting the Earth or doing the right thing, just proving that he’s right and earning the respect he deserves.

So I view Dib as more of an Anti-Hero. Someone who ultimately does good (protecting humanity from aliens), but whose methods and motivations for doing so are far from heroic.

Comic spoilers under the cut:

Zib however, is an Anti-Villain.

His ultimate goal of wiping the Irken Empire from existence in the multiverse is (at least from his perspective) a heroic goal and he claims to be doing it to protect and save other worlds from the Irken Threat (in contrast to the real Dib, who only truly has interest in furthering his own career), but the things he’s willing to do to achieve that goal and just how downright dangerous and destructive his methods are are far too evil to make him a Hero or even an Anti-Hero.

#invader zim #asks #dib membrane #analysis #zib #comic spoilers

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0perfectimperfections0 · 23 days

Note

Which uglydolls characters do you think these songs describe:

-Love Like You (feat. Rebecca Sugar)

-Saint bernard (panicking at the wrong disco lincoln)

-little girls (Cameron diaz)

-Brutal (Oliva Rodrigo)

-jealousy jealousy (Oliva Rodrigo)

-good 4 u (Oliva Rodrigo)

-Wrecking ball (Mother Mother)

-Cults (Guided Lily)

Two birds (Regina Spektor)

-Are You Satisfied? (MARINA)

-Notion (The Rare Occasions)

-Alien Blues (Vandabar)

-Oh No! (MARINA)

-I Deserve to Bleed (Sushi Soucy)

-dumb dumb (mazie)

-digital silence (Peter mcpoland)

-everybody likes you (lemon demon)

-Romantic Homicide (d4vd)

-I love you so (the Walters)

-Step on me (the Cardigans)

-YKWIM (Yot club)

Finally getting to this post even though it's been months since I started working on it. I got halfway through these songs before life slapped me in the face, so let's finish it up!

Lord help me, there's someone playing the piano in the Solarium here at college, so there's two polar tunes going through my ears XD

<><><>

Love Like You: Nolan - Ha! You thought I was gonna say Lou, right? Well, I thought about it, but the line "And I'm nothing like you, look at you go, I just adore you..." and so on makes me think of Nolan when he was obviously trying his best to get Lou's attention. He was focusing in the class and trying to keep up with the training, heck, he made it to the Gauntlet. Despite Lou calling him ugly, he still tries to make Lou proud of him or change his mind. "If I could begin to do something that does right by you, I would do anything."

Saint Bernard: Sorry, but this song was confusing, and I honestly was thrown off too much by the slightly off-key singing that...bleh, no sorry XD

Little Girls: Kitty - Here me out, it gives off more Kitty vibes. I debated it feeling more like for Lou, but it's giving me "Ugh, no, you imbecile" vibes. The way she sings as well is the way I imagine Kitty singing. She's also kinda stuck with Lydia and Tuesday despite acting like she's absolutely fed up with their two brain cells.

Brutal: Kitty - Way too insecure and earnestly faking being okay to be anyone else. Also, "only have two real friends:" Tuesday and Lydia?

Jealousy Jealousy: Mandy - I think one of the main reasons that she hangs out with the Spy Girls is because she wants to be just like them. I don't think they just spotted her one day. Kitty doesn't strike me as that type of person. I think Mandy earnestly sought them out and has been trying to prove that she's as good as them.

good 4 u: Lou - This definitely screams Lou and how he dealt with Ox after their friendship ended. It also didn't help that Ox was living up the dream in Uglyville despite his nature, whilst Lou was still stuck in a perpetual nightmare.

Wrecking Ball: Wage - I feel like this is definitely Wage. She can be a little fireball (and she is during most of the movie). And most of her decisions are impulses of her anger or other unruly emotions. I feel like she just embraces her unvisceral emotions.

Cults: Lou - The middle verses kind of throw me off, but the main chorus of "Haven't I given enough?" is definitely Lou-coded for self-explanatory reasons.

Alien Blues: I've heard this song before and absolutely can't stand it for the same reasons as "Saint Bernard", sorry XD, but I don't think I can listen to it purposefully.

Oh no!: Moxy - Despite the whole "friends are great" outlook Moxy seems to have during the movie, she's very self-centered. She was fully prepared to go through the Gauntlet and portal without telling any of the other Uglies back in Uglyville. If it hadn't been for Lou's interference, the other Uglies would still be stuck. Moxy definitely has her own future set in stone.

dumb dumb: Wage - She definitely gives off the "I'm surrounded by idiots" energy. I know, you probably expected me to say Lou, but I honestly think that Wage would be the one to secretly believe everyone is on a lower IQ level than her. She did constantly try to tell Moxy that her plan was outrageous. She also gives UglyDog a hard time.

Everybody Likes You: I couldn't find this song

Step on Me: Nolan - I honestly think that Nolan wholly accepts (tolerates) any treatment from other dolls. He'll withstand the insults and bombastic side eyes if it means playing peacekeeper.

YKWIM: Ox - I feel like closer toward the end of his friendship with Lou, he felt as if he was getting in the way of Lou being a functional leader in the Institute.

<><><><>

Yeah, I admitted some because it's been months since this ask came in and a little bit shorter since I had first worked through the songs. The few songs I deleted from my analysis is because I just didn't have the attention span to listen to them or they really confused me because of the lyrics.

But yeah!

#uglydolls #lou #ask #answer #random #ox #moxy #nolan

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helly-watermelonsmellinfellon · 5 months

Text

So, I was on Twitter, and I saw one of the Genshin accounts talking about something that confused them. And it involved the topic that I'm actually very interested in.

We're both incredibly enamored with the fact that half of the overworld scenery in the game is a result of some god somewhere performing some kind of epic feat.

The Harr Islands(GAA) being Barbatos terraforming Mondstadt to clear the snow and ice.

Guyun Stone Forest being Morax pinning gods down with his spears so they can't threaten Liyue anymore.

Yashiori Island and Orobaxi's corpse being bisected clean through being Beelzebul's way of handling a 'threat' to Inazumans.

The Rainforest being Greater Lord Rukkhadevata trying to bring life back to the land Celestia ruined with a Divine Nail.

Dragonspine's perpetual Winter, Tsurumi's perpetual Fog(prior to the Traveler's interference), and Sumeru's desert being Celestia nuking civilizations supposedly to clear Abyssal corruption.

The Harvisptokhm in the Sumeru Desert being the efforts of 3 goddesses to hold off the infestation of Abyssal creatures during The Cataclysm.

The Eternal Oasis being King Deshret's attempt at preserving a resting place for the Goddess of Flowers.

Watatsumi Island existing at all being Orobaxi removing the odd growths he'd sprouted in the Dark Sea and using them to make an island for the people of Enkanomiya to live on up on the surface.

Enkanomiya's present circumstances being because of a massive war between 2 alien beings that both thought they should rule a planet neither owned.

The Chasm being the way it is because a golden chariot fell from the heavens and fucked everything up, followed afterward by a Divine Nail at some point.

And so this Twitter account was asking the question of why, if all these gods are capable of such massive feats of power, aren't the playable versions just as badass?

And it suddenly hit me.

Almost all of the gods were killed in the Archon War(as I think it was Celestia's way of culling the herd of potential threats). There are very few beings left behind who could pose enough of a threat for a god with such power to have to use it. Zhongli and Ei are literally pulling their punches every day because why would you summon the power to cut an island in half, or summon spears the size of mountains for a Treasure Hoarder whose chosen weapon is a shovel? And hell, even with humans using Delusions like the Fatui, they are literally no match. At all. It'd be overkill and a waste of energy.

Me also realizing that this is probably why playable gods/godly beings are so different from their lore versions. The Archons/Dragon Sovereigns should technically the best for their elements if you have them all C6'd, so them being strongest makes sense based on what each can do. But they're a far cry from what they 'used to be' compared to their lore selves in the story.

It almost feels like the day I learned that Mora being used to Ascend Weapons has actual lore implications because the power in it, from being created by the Geo Gnosis specifically, gave it special properties that let it change/enhance Weapons.

#genshin impact

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ajgrey9647 · 26 days

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Offering them up as the entertainment to party guests to do with as they please: Sentries Skull & Adam~

The Real Lady Drakkon

She cast discrete glances through her long lashes, lifting the crystal wine glass with its pool of deeply scarlet liquid to her lips. The flickering light from the chandeliers played across Lord Drakkon’s angular features, which were more pronounced than the Tommy Oliver of Scorpina’s world. He was older than the boy she’d once fought alongside during the height of Rita’s Green Ranger days, twenty years older by the tyrant’s estimate. A fine weaving of black veins ghosted the flesh of his neck, reaching as high as his hollowed cheek bones as if the man bore an infectious disease.

‘An overload of Grid energy,’ the woman noted. ‘Mere humans were not meant to use the power of two coins at the same time. Their pitiful bodies can’t handle the side effects.’

To her discerning eye, however, Lord Drakkon appeared to be tolerating the combined energy quite well. Strapped with thick muscle unlike the lanky, leaner Green Ranger, he boasted an impressive physique under the elaborate formal attire that stretched snugly over his biceps and chest. Definitely not hard on the eyes if Scorpina could ignore the memories of the freckle-faced, childish Tommy Oliver, who somehow turned into quite the wet blanket once freed from Rita’s obedience spell.

She hadn’t foreseen becoming trapped in an alternate universe in her future, certainly not one as dystopian and… ‘Gothic’ was the term she needed, yet the alien bounty hunter wasn’t familiar with such human terminology. Here in the Coinless realm, Rita Repulsa had won, destroying the Rangers and taking over the Earth.

But such feats had cost the witch her life, dying at the hands of those snot-nosed little brats before they’d scattered like a nest of cockroaches. Scorpina found herself under the protective gauntlet of this ‘Lord Drakkon’, a more aggressive and lethal version of Tommy, who’d taken the reigns and ruled over this bizarre Wonderland.

Tonight, he’d thrown a grand ball to celebrate her arrival and make the proper introductions to the aristocracy. The cavernous room seemed to sparkle as the array of candlelight reflected off the cut crystal vases, wine decanters, and goblets, twinkling upon the handles of sterling silver and ivory utensils, and highlighting the intricate engraving of the fine China plates and bowls.

Fragrant blooms tumbled over the lips of vases situated in the middle of linen-covered tables and the music of stringed instruments floated delicately through the air, playing music of a by-gone era. Several of the aristocracy, bedecked in jewels, silks, furs, and sweeping ballgowns twirled across the dance floor in something Drakkon informed her was called a ‘waltz’, before taking his place at the head of the table.

As he sat staring down at the grandeur of his wealth and power, the man’s expression was impassive, almost bored. Idly, he swirled the wine in his chalice, taking the smallest of sips as an afterthought. The plate before him boasted an aromatic cut of lamb with mint sauce, new potatoes swimming in rich butter, and bourbon-glazed carrots, all untouched. It smelled delicious to Scorpina and she was confused as to why the evil Ranger allowed it to grow cold as the band continued to play and the dancers gracefully executed the elaborate steps in a harmonious rhythm.

Lord Drakkon must have felt her eyes trailing over him and, when he slowly turned his head in her direction, she quickly averted her face, cheeks flaming. Quickly, the petite woman pretended to be engrossed in the activity taking place just across the room from where all the gaiety was taking place. For those uninterested in dancing or feasting, the tyrant had thoughtfully catered to a different sort of appetite, one that jarred with the fancy, ethereal ball going on about them.

A select number of Sentry guards, boasting all colors and ranks, were contorted in various positions in all stages of undress as they serviced Drakkon’s sycophants, each man’s face etched in sheer passion and enthusiasm though they truly felt anything but…

There was a steep price to pay if one didn’t play ball, so to speak… If they were to sour the illusion and the fun being had…

One of them, a dark-haired Red Sentry Captain, artfully managed to sit astride one partner while also being mounted from behind before a third cock found its way into the inviting mouth. The sweaty drunks grunted and groaned, sounding like pigs in mud as they used this guard like an old gym sock.

Scorpina had to admit that the Sentry had talent, moving in tandem with the motions of the bloated bodies crushing against his own.

“Enjoying yourself, my dear?” Drakkon’s rich, elegant voice cut into her thoughts.

The evil Ranger’s deadly fingers uncurled from the stem of his wine glass, the action strangely mesmerizing, as he settled it on the tabletop before he hooked one to summon one of his servants.

“Refresh the lady’s beverage,” he ordered icily.

His mouth smoothly shifted into a flirtatious smile when he again met Scorpina’s eyes.

The warrior curled her moist ruby lips, slowly licking the lingering drops of red wine from the lower.

“Yes, your lordship. I appreciate all the generosity you’ve bestowed upon me,” she purred.

Lord Drakkon favored her with a grin of his own, the sight more one of horror than friendly endearment.

“You are most welcome, Scorpina. A friend of my former empress is a friend of mine,” he responded, the sentiment sounding as if read from a script. “Rita was a remarkable woman. It was an honor to serve her.”

The loud moaning of several men reaching climax erupted from the ‘dark side’ of the ballroom, though the tyrant remained as nonchalant about the interruption as he would a bird swooping through the sky.

“I’m sure that you long as much as I do to avenge our empress’s demise at the hands of those troublesome Coinless filth.”

Tears pricked Scorpina’s eyes, and they glistened in the candlelight.

“I can’t believe they killed her… I thought Rangers had some type of hero’s code or something,” she growled.

This Coinless universe was very different from the one she knew, a place ‘out-of-time’, relegated back to the days of old. The social hierarchy was something the woman warrior intended to commit to heart, knowing that the best odds for survival came with aligning with the one most powerful.

Drakkon grunted dismissively, his eyes staring out into the bustle of the ballroom.

“As I did as well. However, teenagers can be…fickle. Impulsive. Temperamental.”

Pushing his chair back from the table, he hauled his large form from the upholstered seat, garnering the attention of the others in attendance. Gracefully, Drakkon strode to Scorpina’s side, pausing to hold out a gloved hand, his glossy, gray-streaked mane brushing his waist when he bowed.

“Care for a waltz? I’m an excellent teacher,” he cooed.

A chilly aura radiated from his proffered arm, whether due to the combined, bastardized coin or his own person, she was uncertain. But clearly, this was the one she needed to beguile; she would just have to ignore the fact that this was essentially the more deadly twin of the boneheaded Tommy Oliver.

Batting her lashes playfully, she pretended to dry her eyes and accepted the invitation.

“I’d love to, Lord Drakkon,” she whispered breathily as she daintily placed her fingers over the glove’s alarmingly cold silk.

He assisted the woman to her feet, then the pair skirted the length of the expansive, linen-draped table; the villain guiding her gallantly as if they were in some old-fashioned romance novel. All eyes were on them when they reached the dance floor and Scorpina pressed her svelte form seductively against the tyrant’s body.

Lord Drakkon seemed to loom over her, his hulking build dwarfing her own, much like a grizzly bear balanced on its hind legs. The thought of those rippling muscles sent a tingle directly to her groin and she wandered if the man could feel her nipples, not constrained by any bra or bodice, through the silk of their garments. If he did, his expression didn’t give it away as he began to grandly twirl her about the ballroom.

From the head table, Drakkon’s two ‘head guards’ kept watching, their attention sweeping the grand room for any signs of dangerous foe.

The Ranger Slayer, an older, more hostile version of that annoying Kimberly Hart, was dressed in a daring black and pink ball gown, the skirt split up the thigh to accommodate a tussle if one was called for. Her brown hair shorn and ears sporting multiple piercings, along with a battle-hardened brittleness to her pretty features, almost made her unrecognizable as the former Pink Ranger.

Watching with detachment as her master moved about the room with Scorpina on his arm, the Slayer’s expression never altered much as if she were incapable of expressing any emotion.

Not so with the lithe, gray-haired man that had been eating at Drakkon’s right hand, his lowly position accentuated by his place on the floor instead of at the table proper. However, his formal attire was a black, form-fitting suit accentuated with flashes of silver. His hands were covered by fancy black gloves that appeared to somehow sparkle when he moved his arms.

Even as he dutifully assessed the assembled party, he glared down at Scorpina with glittery eyes, though his mouth was fixed in a facsimile of a wide grin, showing all his beautiful white teeth beneath a dark beard. Whoever he’d once been, or whatever version of some Prime universe human, Scorpina didn’t know. But it was evident that the pet didn’t like her touching Drakkon as the woman looked up at him, feeling the weight of his fury on her.

“You are quite the dancer,” she complimented her partner, daringly tracing a red lacquered nail along the villain’s jaw, an obviously flirtatious move designed to aggravate the human-canine. “There must be some way I can repay you for you protection and hospitality.”

Watching the impertinent tart throwing herself at his master, Red’s grin shifted into a jealous snarl, his gloved fingers hooking as if they claws were they rested on his powerful thighs. He nearly growled aloud when a firm hand settled over his thick, shaggy hair. Ranger Slayer had quietly moved down to sit beside him, and she imperceptibly shook her head.

“Down, boy,” she ordered robotically.

Lord Drakkon continued to sway and dip the errant Prime visitor as if he didn’t notice the overt way she was trying to seduce him. Whether he was truly oblivious or just fucking around wasn’t yet certain.

Now, Scorpina’s fingertips brushed the tyrant’s jaw, teasing at his lower lip as she lifted herself on tip-toe under her mouth was very close to his.

“Surely, there’s SOMETHING I can offer in return,” she breathed, letting the implication linger as she upped the ante.

Ranger Slayer could see the woman was pushing it with Red, who’s mouth now gaped open in a version of a canine lifting its hackles, promising swift bloody death. Kim’s hand had glided to the back of the pet’s neck, scruffing him, while the sharp point of her bow, obscured by the tabletop, poked his chest, dissuading him from bounding over the elaborate feast and tearing into the woman.

“Stay!” she hissed. “Behave yourself, bad dog!”

“I’m going to tear that little bitch to shreds,” he rasped vehemently, daringly pressing into the sharp blade of the bow as if he didn’t even register the growing cut, beads of blood appearing on the cold steel.

The Slayer cursed, the word sounding bizarre with no emotion behind it as she gripped Red’s neck more tightly and lifted the pointed heel of her stiletto to hover it over his groin.

“No, knock it off! Heel this minute!”

The notes of the dance slowly faded away then and the dictator briskly stepped back from Scorpina’s cloying embrace.

“Allow me to consider what would best please me,” he simpered, lifting a delicate hand to his lips. “In the meantime, I wish to present you with a special gift… A token of my appreciation for the promise of your future assistance in dealing with my quarrelsome Coinless resistors.”

He gave a piercing whistle.

An almost angelic looking Black Sentry appeared at his side within moments.

“He will escort you to your room, my lovely. You may use him for your pleasure however you see fit,” he smirked. “I would prefer to keep him in service as he’s also an excellent seamstress, so I’d appreciate whatever activity you undertake not end in his death. But…”

He shrugged.

“Things happen. I can understand that better than anyone.”

Drakkon clapped his hands twice and emitted another sharp whistle to get the other guests’ attention.

“Party’s over… Now get the fuck out of my palace!”

As if anyone needed told twice…

Scorpina had looked confused even as she took the Black Sentry’s elbow and allowed him to guide her from the ballroom. Drakkon played up wide-eyed obliviousness until the petite woman was out of sight. It took much to reign in the mischievous laughter that threatened to bubble over at the whole sordid situation.

He strutted comically back towards where Red and Ranger Slayer sat, grandly scooping up his chalice for another sip of wine, a job well done.

“Such a gullible one, isn’t she? A little disappointing from the Scorpina that battled the Rangers at my side,” he idly commented. “Still, she warrants keeping a careful eye on, my darlings. There’s information she possesses that could be most helpful to my cause…”

“I don’t like her!” Red suddenly snapped, speaking out of tune in a way he knew would earn him the strap. “She’s a little bitch!”

He’d leapt to his feet, almost toppling Kim onto her ass, and he looked like he was about to stomp his foot in a childish tantrum.

Even the usually emotionless Ranger Slayer looked taken aback by the spiteful outburst. She knew that Red knew better than to speak without express permission, to curse in Drakkon’s presence, or give his opinion without it being asked for. The mutt was asking for it at this point.

But the tyrant chuckled tenderly, reaching out to grab a handful of the front of the pet’s fancy attire. He tugged Red over the table until they were face to face.

“Aww…. Got a touch of the green-eyed monster, darling,” he teased, before slowly lapping his tongue over the other man’s lips.

“Don’t fret… I only have eyes for you, my beautiful Red.”

The anxious pet was still not soothed, his dark eye large and wet, as if he might burst into nervous, insecure tears.

Drakkon sighed, rolling his eyes at the mutt’s dramatics.

“Why don’t you show me just how much I mean to you in our chambers tonight? I might even spare you getting the strapping you so rightfully deserve for bumping your gums like you just did…If you do a good job expressing your devotion, of course.”

Strolling arm in arm with the waif-like Black Sentry, a man who’d quietly stated his name was Adam as if she gave a fuck, Scorpina puzzled on where exactly she’d went wrong this evening. The woman knew she was attractive with a toned, trim figure, perky breasts, and a tight ass. Normally, human men drooled over her appearance.

Her eyes cut over to this ‘Adam’, who’d wisely remained silent, an obviously submissive little worm. The Sentry wasn’t bad looking either, his features still maintaining a patina of innocence despite his day job. She could do a lot with that and as horny as she was, that was a good thing for them both.

But something nagged at her.

“Let me ask you a question,” she demanded, visibly startling the dark-haired man.

“Yes, milady,” he politely responded. “How may I be of service?”

She paused as she considered how to phrase her musing.

“So, Lord Drakkon…” Scorpina began. “He’s a very handsome man… Powerful…rich…”

Adam nodded slowly, his expression hesitant as if he didn’t want to talk about his lord. Or maybe he was too afraid to.

“Yes, ma’am, he is,” he carefully answered.

Was this insect daft? How did he not get what she angling to find out?

“Well…” the warrior prodded impatiently. “Surely, there’s a…I don’t know… a ‘Lady Drakkon’ in residence?”

The Black Sentry came to a sudden halt, nearly causing her to fall backwards.

“I’m sorry… What? A Lady Drakkon?”

Adam looked genuinely lost.

“I think the lady’s asking if our dapper dictator has a lover. Am I right?” another voice echoed up the corridor, sounding somewhat amused, though exhausted.

Looking over his shoulder, the Black Sentry caught sight of Skull limping his way towards them, his hair pulled in sweat-dried tufts, lips swollen, and stinking of body odor and sex.

Scorpina curled her lip in disgust.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking, you breathing sex doll. Is there a lady who has his heart?”

Suddenly the men erupted in a roar of laughter, the Red Sentry Captain even slapping his thighs as he bent at the waist, grimacing through the giggles.

“A woman who has his heart…” Skull crowed. “A fucking HEART!”

Adam at least tried to reel it in in order to spare her feelings.

“Oh, there IS a Lady Drakkon, I guess… I mean, technically…”

He looked to the other man, unsure how to explain the wildness in his own words.

“That isn’t the title I’d use exactly,” Skull snorted. “Well… sometimes it works…”

Scorpina pushed the soft-spoken Sentry off her person, planting her hands on her hips.

“What are you two going on about? How is there a ‘sort of’ Lady Drakkon? Is she like a high-priced whore or mistress or something?”

This only caused the men to laugh harder.

“Something you should know around here,” the Red Sentry Captain explained between guffaws, “you won’t get anywhere with Lord Drakkon. But word to the wise… You’re better off just not discussing it or asking questions when it comes to his personal affairs.”

Scorpina rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Let me guess who the lucky gal is,” she snarked. “It’s the same in my universe! Little Miss Kimberly Hart!”

Adam tried to hide the look of distaste behind a gloved hand.

“Lord, your universe is messed up!” he remarked. “That’s sort of nasty. Ranger Slayer? And Drakkon?”

The woman couldn’t see what the big deal was.

“Why are you acting so grossed out? Tommy’s got a thing for the Pink Ranger in my world too. Big whoop!”

She was starting to get pissed now at being the butt of their laughter.

“Lady,” Skull drawled. “This isn’t the Prime universe… Pigs fly here but no way in hell has Drakkon ever diddled Ranger Slayer…”

“You talk too much,” she decreed hotly, looking at the Red Sentry with contempt. “Get lost.”

Then she stared imperviously at Adam.

“And you… take me to my chambers. I’ve got an itch to scratch, and I’m bored playing these mind games!”

To her delight, this ‘Adam’ showed much promise when it came to pleasing her. If he was feigning being aroused by her bossy, bitchy demands, he was one amazing actor. Scorpina had been willing to sacrifice being in control in the bedroom if that’s what Lord Drakkon required, though it truly wasn’t her forte to be the submissive one in the dynamic.

Perching on the edge of the vanity’s plush stool, she spread her legs beneath the flowing skirt of her ballgown and pointed to the carpet immediately before her.

“You… power down or whatever it is you guys do here…”

She smiled dangerously.

“I’ve got something for you to taste…”

Scorpina spent a fair amount of time busting Adam’s balls, wearing the soft-spoken into a writhing, sweat-drenched shell before she decided the pitiful human could take no more. She orgasmed at least five times and, while it took the edge off, she wanted…

More.

Surely, a man of Drakkon’s immense power, bolstered with the Ranger strength and endurance of two coins, could finish her off…

Her panties were still soaking wet, clinging to every curve and crevice as she crept up the winding staircase to the tyrant’s private chambers. She hoped the aroma of her arousal would inspire the clueless Ranger as to where her desires truly lay tonight. With all that he’d accomplished, Drakkon couldn’t be as ridiculously boneheaded as his Prime counterpart.

Deciding between leather and lace for the rest of her ‘gift-wrapping’ had been difficult, but she ultimately decided that the tyrant must prefer leather. Scorpina could just…tell. She’d heard the wild stories of his theatrical fuckery and leather just fit.

Of course, she thought must of those tales had to be greatly exaggerated.

Lord Drakkon was a little…’off’ but he hadn’t behaved as nutty as she’d been led to believe.

Adam and Skull were clearly full of shit. She’d been utterly confused as to how they couldn’t answer a simple question.

Was there a Lady Drakkon?

She’d gotten something of an answer when her manicured fingers wrapped around the Black Sentry’s balls and gave a ‘friendly’ but authoritative squeeze.

He’d cried and wept and screamed something about a…trinket. And something about that loony territorial mutt. Then Adam had passed out in a puddle of sweat, piss, and cum to her growing frustration.

Quietly, she moved up the stone risers, her ears straining for any noise coming from above. The notes of a song echoed faintly to her ears, the delicate, yet yearning notes of ‘Swan Lake’. Reaching the shadowy entrance to the outer chamber, Scorpina’s bare feet made the barest of whispers on the emerald green rugs as she moved closer to the sitting area.

Reclining on a jacquard chaise lounge, Lord Drakkon was completely nude, the dancing flames from the fireplace highlighting his broad chest and toned abdomen. Powerful thighs were spread languidly, a thick, prominent erection dripping a clear fluid of anticipation.

He was watching something like a feline would watch a beautiful songbird hopping along the ground, waiting to pounce, to bite…

As she watched, Scorpina realized there was someone else in the room, their graceful body poised near the fireplace, back to her. Shiny black ribbon circled their ankles, feet standing en pointe in satin ballet shoes. Sheer dancer’s stockings covered the woman’s legs, a flowing black tulle spilling down from her waist. Diamonds dripped down the open back of the leotard, glittering like stars in the night sky as she moved.

A thick head of ebony ringlets brushed the ballerina’s shoulders, like an old pin-up movie star.

Drakkon was riveted by the woman’s graceful poses as she moved to the music, teasingly coming closer and closer as she leapt and twirled, the muscles of her legs and back bunching under…scarred skin??

Scorpina frowned.

“You excite me beyond reason, Trinket,” the tyrant groaned, a hand starting to reach for his shaft then resisting the urge. “How could you believe my head could be turned by another?”

Was this ‘Trinket’ Lady Drakkon?

Why didn’t Adam and Skull just SAY that? And what did that nutty mutt Red have to do with her?

Speaking of that spooky bastard, where was he? He clung to Drakkon like a second skin whenever he was in the same room.

The ballerina glided on pointed toe to where the evil Ranger lay. He reached for her with his large hands pulling her astride his waist to grind his cock between her silky thighs. Trinket rained kisses over his stubbly cheeks leaving behind bright red lipstick.

Scorpina observed that the dancer was rather tall and muscled but given the rigors of her chosen dance she would have to be strong.

It was when Trinket arched her back, allowing her lover to rove his lips down her neck and chest, that she caught sight of the gold collar and the facial hair.

Trinket was Red…

Drakkon was fucking Red…

Red was in essence ‘Lady Drakkon’…

Well, Scorpina wasn’t one to kink shame; she could play nasty with the best of them. This ‘Trinket’ roleplay wasn’t about to throw her off her game. It only meant that she needed to not only win over Lord Drakkon, but also that crazy canine.

‘He might believe he’s a dog, but a man’s a man…’ she erroneously told herself…still not getting the big picture. ‘I can play games too.’

And when the tyrant flipped his beautiful ballerina to his back, shoving the tulle aside and tearing the silky bodysuit to mount his lover, Scorpina made her move. Both Drakkon and Red were so blissed out…and inebriated on some exotic line of coke…that they didn’t initially register her appearance.

Until she lowered her wet, swollen cunt over ‘Trinket’s’ mouth, her own pressing harshly against Lord Drakkon’s did the pair realize they weren’t alone. Red was too stunned at first to even think about swatting at the intruder or biting her or…anything. Finally, he managed to emit several muffled shrieks of outrage and garbled threats as the bitch continued to ride his fucking face!

He’d never even entertained the idea of pleasuring a woman, though the subject certainly came up in his ‘research’.

Drakkon must have been stunned as well because he also didn’t speak or move for several moments, pausing mid-thrust in a way that aggravated ‘Trinket’ greatly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he finally demanded, Red’s incensed squalling continuing to float up from between her legs.

“You two looked like you were having fun,” she pouted, jutting out her lower lip but still rocking her hips over the ballerina’s mouth, so close to cumming again that she physically couldn’t stop.

Red seemed to sense it as well, feeling the rush of heat and the quivering of her muscles.

“Don’t you DARE!” he gasped angrily.

But it was too late.

The only reason she didn’t immediately lose her head was because Drakkon needed the information she possessed. It took all his self-control not to make an example out of her…

Hell, she’d just defiled his darling’s luscious mouth!

“Well, my dear…this is a PRIVATE party!”

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