Datasets:

ResplendentAI

/

BluemoonAlpaca

like 4

Once Johnathan swung the heavy oak and iron door shut behind him, he placed his back against the cold stone wall and let out a sigh. He hadn't understood why the man he'd paid to take him up here had been so adamant that he'd be turning his carriage around shortly before sundown. Johnathan had rather assumed that the man had seen a stranger appear in town and decided that this would be a perfect chance to charge triple his usual rate. It wasn't until the sun was almost down and the wolves had started to howl that Johnathan had realized that he really should have waited until the next morning to ride to the castle. Still, he'd made it here in one piece and had somehow managed to keep his bag with him in his haste. It would have been a wasted trip if he'd lost the documents that the countess would need to facilitate her relocation to London. Johnathan pushed away from the wall as another howl split the air, prompting a wry smile to form on the man's face at the thought of the wolves' disappointment at being denied their meal. He was just grateful that the countess had been kind enough to instruct him to let himself in when he reached her home. The letter had suggested she preferred to do business in the evenings so Johnathan wasn't entirely certain he'd find her up yet and he certainly wasn't going to go searching the castle for a lady's bedchambers. Mina wouldn't enjoy hearing about that in his letters, that much was certain. Of course, posting said letters was going to be more difficult now. He'd sent one off when he arrived in town to let her know that he'd arrived safely but if correspondence necessitated braving wolves and skittish carriage drivers he'd probably be better off waiting and sending her another letter as he began his return journey. He removed his coat and found a spot for it near the door before proceeding into the building, helping himself to a candlestick that happened to be at hand and showing himself around. The scent of food caught his attention and he turned his feet to follow. Surely he was expected and he presumed that the countess wouldn't be far off if dinner was being served. A flickering fire in the dining room's fireplace, along with a multitude of candles illuminated the room. He approached the table but was loath to sit until he'd found his hostess.

As Jonathan waited, hot steam and enticing aromas wafted from the food upon the table: freshly cooked meat and vegetables, warm bread, honey, butter, and wine all lay temptingly before him, and the sight and scents of it all served only to remind him how long it had been since he'd had a truly good meal. The journey from England to the Carpathian mountains had been a long one, and even though the taverns he'd stayed in had on occasion served good food, in memory they simply gelled into one mediocre meal, always in uneasy company and cramped surroundings. The castle may not have been in magnificent repair, but still it was spacious and warmed by an open fire, and the meal was more reminiscent of Mina's home cooking than of some tavern stew. Gratefully, he did not have long to wait before the countess made her presence known. Silently she ghosted down the stairs, her attire all lace and gossamer, and as black as the night sky. Her hair, too, was black; her lips a rich, blood red upon blanched, snow-white skin. She wore a long dress whose tails skirted the floor, and whose bodice clung tightly to gently curving hips, and full breasts. Her nails were long and pointed, painted red, and if she wore footwear at all they were hidden beneath the reach of her dress. When she spoke, her presence took him by surprise; one moment he had been waiting on her, the next she was slipping past him and into view, a polite, if mysterious smile on her blood red lips. "The food will not stay warm for long," she said, her voice intoned with the deep, sultry accent of Transylvania. As she spoke, the countess slid around the table and faced Jonathan across the steaming plates, before settling into a high-backed armchair and crossing one leg over the other. "Sit. Eat. I am Countess Cocula; you must be Mr. Harker, no?

The specimen was tucked away behind a glass tube that went from the floor to the ceiling. All sorts of equipment were scattered about the lab. Some of the tools were reading the specimen's vital signs and others were charging up to begin the next set of tests. The specimen in question was found drifting through space. It was somewhat of a mystery as to why it was floating through space, but even more so why it was drifting unconscious and half frozen. It was made mostly of a slime material, but its organs were clear to see in parts of its body. Even as it floated in the glass tube, its organs were beating to a rhythm, but ever so slightly. The next mystery began as to why it had similar DNA to another species completely different in appearance. For easier classification, the specimen was nicknamed "Slime Metroid". The earlier tests showed that the Slime Metroid needed a constant flow of energy. A flow of energy was scheduled for the tube every half hour, but the burst of electrical energy did very little to sustain the creature. It was slowly dying and a reason to the cause could not be found. Junohad been assigned to the space colony specifically to do research on the creature. She had been assigned since the very beginning and was one of the chief scientists assigned to the ship. Even though the colony was a civilian craft, it was temporarily under military orders. Upon the nearest military outpost, it would relieve control of the creature and any research over. Juno was there to make sure that happened and do what research she could. The equipment wasn't military grade, but she and her team was able to put something together. The other more complicated tests would have to wait until she was in a military lab. Juno was the only one in the lab. She had dismissed the rest of her team earlier to get some rest. They were still days away from the military outpost, but there were still tests to perform. Specifically, how to transport the thing without incurring any injuries. A timer beeped on one of the consoles near the glass tube. It was time for the energy surge. Juno pressed a couple buttons on the terminal and the process began. The Slime Metroid was electrocuted, but it seemed to be in pain. Perhaps it wasn't getting what it needed at such a low voltage. In tired state, she failed to forget that a higher voltage would also damage the glass tube. When she turned the machine up higher, it caused a power surge in the lab. When the emergency lights turned on, it would show that several cracks had formed along the tube.

The heavy organ that formed its head flickered, then two points of light glowed like eyes in its head. It pressed against the glass, seeping through the cracks before hardening and shattering the tube. The being spilled out, wobbling about slightly as it stood, before lunging and pinning down Juno, hissing at the woman.

Winter's tan ears lay back against her head at the sudden chop of an ax striking the wood block, and the wet sound of a head rolling away from the chopping block. She wasn't sure who the storm cloaks were, but they evidently managed to piss off the Imperials ... something she was quite happy to see at this point to be honest. Particularly due to her own fate, while it kept her off the chopping block, her situation was not too much better. She was caught crossing the border about two days ago and brought to this camp. The imperials had planted some skooma in her gear and gone on a long rant about the punishment for smuggling. They ignored her denials and offered the Khajiit woman a choice. Execution or aiding the garrison situated here in some way. She rathered liked her dark striped head and brown mane to remain attached to her body so she agreed with the latter of course not quite knowing what they meant by assisting. Turns out her assistance was being stripped down to just her tan fur, placed in stocks with her tail pulled up and bound to her back, with her ass and pussy on display and for the use of any men in the fort who wanted a go with a exotic female on their break. Some damn moral booster it seemed. One that a number of them had seemed happy to try out. Her amber eyes closed hearing more cursing from the prisoners and a wince as one tried to run and was shot down. She shifted a little on her paws bound as well and spread wide attached to the base of the stocks. Her cream colored and coco striped fur was already matted around her thighs and ass from her job as entertainment , but at least they were a little distracted now and the stocks were in the courtyard of the keep and kept out of sight of the rest of the town.

Rumors had been flying all around the keep and Skyrim itself , Dragons had returned more powerful than ever before but even more worrying was that the rumor said that the dragons were taking female prisoners, they would not be found for about a month and suddenly would return home with a swelling belly. Of course the guards ignored these rumors. Though beastly roars could be heard all around the keep and many Guards were starting to become very fearful. They were trying to rush it so Ulfric Stormcloak could be killed but since the men had their moral boosting female. The execution went slowly. One of the guard captain came up behind Winter and said "Oh you certainly are an exotic female, I'm going to love pounding that pussy of yours," he began to rub her pussy roughly, all he cared about was his own pleasure.

Uck. Feel like I'm going to be scrubbing muck out of my fur for a week," Beast Boy complained to himself while looking over the gunk that was currently staining his uniform. At his side was Starfire, the Tamaranean alien Princess and one of his fellow teammates on the Teen Titans, as they made their way down one of the hallways for Titan Towers after a hard-fought mission. "Oh goodness...that mud monster was quite strong," Starfire remarked, wincing as she tugged at one glob of goo tangled into her glorious red hair. "And we have a meeting to attend soon too." She turned her focus toward the green-skinned human. "Oh! Perhaps we could save time if we shower together Beast Boy! After all, it is a custom on my planet to have group showers after a hard fought battle!" The suggestion came suddenly enough for Beast Boy to literally stop dead in his tracks. His body comically stiff as a board as it stood in a straight upward position, before slowly turning his head with rather disbelieving eyes at his teammate, "Wait. You mean. Me? And you? Shower?" This seemed too good to be true. Sure, Starfire's culture tended to clash a lot with Earth standards, so it's not like he doubted the sincerity. But there was Robin. There was common decency. There was... that cute, perfect alien figure which stood there before him with that same wide eyed cuteness she often held. "I think... that... is a great idea, Starfire!" Beast Boy suddenly let out with a wide smile and an approving thumbs up at the orange skinned beauty. Don't worry about Robin, he figured. It was just a shower. An innocent, platonic shower between friends and teammates. Besides, he was always on time for meetings. Already changing his direction to head toward the showers, Beast Boy was eager to start before anything ruined this one time chance, "C'mon, Star! The quicker we get in there, the more we can focus on getting cleaned up before the meeting starts." A short time later, the two young Titans would indeed find themselves alone in the shower area of the Tower. Beast Boy let Starfire prepare on her own as he got the waters ready. "This has to be a dream," the shapeshifter uttered under his breath while checking the water temperature; his uniform still on at the moment aside from the gloves as he considered the worse, "Or maybe Cyborg's pulling some crazy, messed up prank on me? Man, I'm so putting novelty bumper stickers on his back again if that's the case." Around then, the sound of another approach would draw Beast Boy's attention away from the by now ready shower; causing the somewhat skeptical teen to turn around and verify who was there.

Indeed, to the alien princess known as Starfire this was all an innocent expression of kinship and friendship. Her people commonly held communal washes on Tamaran, to clean the blood off their friends after a hard-fought and well-won battle. And what luck that Beast Boy accepted the suggestion, Raven had turned down the alien princess when she made the offer the first time. So once alone in the woman's changing room, the orange skinned alien was quick to remove her stained purple tube top, revealing her generous orange breasts, followed by her purple miniskirt to show off her shaved mounds. "Goodness, these clothes are filthy," Starfire remarked aloud as she took her gloves off, before stepping out of her knee-high boots. The freedom was much obliged, and soon she was fully naked. Covered in monster mud in a few places, but still naked. Small wonder she was the object of desire for many boys in Jump City, even if she was oblivious to that. Well now that she was ready to go, she quickly started flying toward the shower itself, deciding to meet up with the green-skinned hero in the men's room. "Beast Boy!" she remarked, sounding like a fussy mother. "You are not naked yet! You cannot wash in your clothes, you'll never get clean like that." she said firmly, placing her hands on her rounded hips. "Do you require assistance undressing?" the innocent alien asked, tilting her head to the side.

Callie was a little surprised that the restaurant was as busy as it was, she didn't know why but she had thought that in the midst of war people might not be as inclined to partake in fine dining as usual. It seems she was wrong though, in fact it seemed even busier than the last couple times they had come here. She supposed if she really thought about it it made sense though, people wanted some form of normalcy and perhaps they felt the need now more than ever to enjoy themselves and indulge. It wasn't too dissimilar for her and her husband, Corran, either. Normally a date night wasn't so expensive or high end, but it had been a little while since they had been able to go on one, and the last time he had had to leave almost as soon as it began. So she supposed that he felt the need to make it up to her. Callie didn't mind that one bit. The galaxy had been tangled in a strange war for a few months now, one that none of them had really thought could or would happen. A war with the Reapers. The Council had assured them all that they were mere myth, that Commander Shepard, the Savior of the Citadel was misinformed and only being hyper alert in the aftermath of the Attack on the Citadel by the rogue Spectre Saren and his flag ship, Sovereign. There had even been rumors that humanity's greatest hero had cracked under the pressure. Then she had died, and everything had seemed to quiet down. Life had returned to normal, just like everyone wanted, and her warning had gone ignored. That was impossible now, and not just because Shepard had returned from the dead like a ghost, but because the Reapers had arrived. Earth had fallen first, targeted as an apparent threat, and one by one the home worlds of the Citadel races were being pulled into the fray. It felt strange to be sitting here in a restaurant with her husband, wearing a sleek, short black dress and her long black hair down in loose curls, the bottom half streaked with dark green, and her finely featured, angular face dolled up a little with makeup, while Earth burned. Callie had never had to wear much in the way of makeup to make herself look good, she was beautiful, and Corran was handsome, they made a good-looking couple. They'd been married about a year and a half, though how long they'd actually been together was a matter of contention between the two of them. Corran considered it to be the day they'd met, claiming he'd known then that he was going to marry her; Callie considered it some six months later, when he finally convinced her to start a relationship with him. A proposal had come soon after, then they'd both let their contracts with the military run out, gotten married, and moved to the Citadel. Coran's application to Citadel Security had been accepted almost immediately, and Callie, who had been a medic in the Alliance Navy, had gotten a job at Huerta Memorial Hospital. The next year had been a normal one, a happy one, even if sometimes Callie did feel bored. She tried to keep herself busy with kickboxing and wall climbing and work, never having been the sort to be happy being idle, now they were both so busy they barely got to see one another. As the war had started, refugees of all races had come pouring into the Citadel, as had injured soldiers. C-Sec was scrambling to keep up, and so were the hospitals, with only the worst cases being sent to Huerta. Tonight though they were trying to just slow down. They'd just finished their appetizers and were waiting for their meals, an opened bottle of wine on the table for them to share. Technically they were both on call right now, but Callie had made it clear that she was taking tonight off, and Coran had assured her that his sergeant said he could have tonight too. And since Callie wanted to get laid and Corran was always a bit friskier when he had a little booze in him, she had insisted on wine. Neglected was maybe a bit strong of a word to describe how she'd been feeling about their relationship lately, but it was close. So have you seen the previews for the new Blasto movie? Looks pretty good, Callie chuckled, since by "good" she meant cheesy and over-dramatic, but that's what made the series so endearing. Who could take a movie about a Hanar seriously?

Corran's eyes were reflective of his joyous mood. Despite the fact that C-Sec had more or less dumped the workload of two or three officers on his shoulders, he convinced himself it was because if the Citadel wanted justice, it was his responsibility to police it. Society would think that with the advanced understanding of the universe, a certain level of sophistication would follow, but the truth was that society just found new and interesting ways to descend into depravity and exploit those who were dealt a weaker hand in life. Corran was the razor thin line that kept those people from harm. Yet... all of that sense of self-assurance and understanding wasn't what kept him happy. It was the woman sitting across from him, a broad smile cracked his handsome face, and it stayed put as he reached across the table to let his fingertips dance gently along the backside of her hand. "Blasto? Mhh... if we want to get a good laugh, I say we see it tomorrow. If you just want to see people get shot, you could follow me around for a day." A chuckle rumbled up baritone chords but it was relatively quiet compared to the low rumble of the chatter from all the restaurant patrons. Corran used his free hand to grasp the base of the wine bottle and showed an uncanny precision as he poured the contents into his glass. Not a single drop spilled, but this was no surprise considering his profession required absolutely steady hands. Once the wine was poured into his own glass, he leaned forward some in his chair to reach to her side of the table. His brow was arched in question, and a tip of his head was to gesture towards her wine glass followed by "Refill, love?" Callie was a spark of beauty among a world of tainted. It's not that the C-Sec or Military life had ruined Corran's outlook on all of society, but he was acutely aware of how quickly a person could devolve into a monster. While it certainly wasn't fair to place her atop such a pedestal, she was almost this idea of what a woman or person could be: beautiful, passionate, and always focused on saving a life or bettering the situation of a person who was wounded. It's almost as if they fought the same war but on different fronts. As confident and headstrong as Corran was, Callie had become something of an emotional rock for him, keeping him steady despite the crashing waves of pressure from his career. So it was no surprise then that he'd fallen so completely and absolutely for her when their relationship blossomed, and even now, married years later, she was still a treasure to him. "I'd think you'd want to see something with a little more skin than Blasto though..." Corran teased, his right eyelid falling shut in a fast wink as if the words weren't indication enough to what he meant.

Totally. Fuckin'. The whole cockpit shook as the massive feet of the ATAT crunched down into the thick snow on the surface of Hoth, bouncing Captain Nancy Green in her seat like a small child in a papoose. Of course this particular baby was wearing a ridiculously bulky black helmet and had her hands all up in the navigational gubbins of a three kiloton siege engine. She shoved the yoke forward and Big Betty took her first ponderous stomp toward the distant Rebel base. The smaller, nimbler ATST units swarmed ahead, weaving in and out between the Betty's legs like a hungry wolfpack. Nancy wasn't a big person. In fact by all accounts she was downright scrawny. But at the helm of Betty, some fifty feet up in the air, she was just too high up to hear the haters. The other two giant metal camels in her squadron fell in beside her, the Arx Imperia and the Glory of Coruscant. She knew their captains well enough, and they were both stuffy as hell. Captain Gloria of the Glory, in particular, was probably the most frigid bitch in the quadrant. Probably felt right at home on Hoth. The comm chimed and orders spewed in over her helmet's display; Betty on point. Nancy switched off the safeties. Which safeties? Every fuckin' one of them. Suddenly Betty lurched forward at full combat speed, kicking over some especially ballsy Rebel scum on a tauntaun. Who fucking rides fluffy kangaroos into a war zone anyway? Reaching above her to flick a big friendly red switch (with a tag hanging from it that read: Nancy, don't touch!) Nancy activated the PA system and blasted the Rebels with power ballads from her homeworld. Mostly tracks by the Nerf Herders with selected compositions by the Wookiee Cunts, classy stuff. "Gunner!" she shouted, too focused on keeping the Betty on course to spare a glance to her cabin-mate. "Can you give me a reason, any little reason, why you aren't lighting these bitches up?

It doesn't get any better than this. "Yeah! You better run!" The young blonde cried out from the gunner seat. She brushed her shoulder-length hair behind her ears once again. Thankfully most of her targeting was through the computer, so she didn't have to wear the ridiculously large amount of gear that her companion Nancy did. She instead just wore her normal imperial uniform, which despite her large chest and wide hips, made her look pretty damn ordinary like everyone else. But everyone else didn't have the best damn job around. Sarah scanned the horizon once more, blasting rebel after rebel who were dumb enough to stand and fight the multiple stories tall mechanical beast. Rebel after Rebel, speeder after speeder, just a couple quick movements from her and they would go flying right on top of a giant explosion. How much better can life get? Unfortunately though, the rebel cruisers were demanding the majority of her attention, she didn't even want to think about the amount of shit she would be in if this thing got brought down. She rolled her eyes as she heard Nancy yelling. "Because! I am trying to keep us walking so that you can step on these 'bitches'! Also turn off the damn PA system!" She yelled back, as she blasted another foolish rebel who thought a rocket launcher would slow them down.

Harold Tassiter vigorously rubbed his wrinkled hands under the warm water of his gold cast bathroom sink, and squinted at his reflection in the highly polished platinum mirror. His glasses clung to his face cruelly, giving his already hawkish face an evil, haughty appearance. The CEO of Hyperion grumbled something under his breath as he turned off the ornate faucet, and dried his hands on a gaudy, plush crimson towel emblazoned with the Hyperion Logo on it. He tossed the towel into the trash. Harold could always have the slave labor camps on Pandora make thousands more. After all, he was doing that rabble population a service, giving their lives purpose and the honor of serving his needs. Everyone should be so lucky. The Gaunt Chief Executive officer quickly whirled on his highly polished designer dress shoes, and entered his lavishly furnished office to continue his latest scheme. Only to stop dead in his tracks upon the crimson rug leading to his personal restroom. There was a gorgeous woman in a dirty looking cowboy style hat, lounging in a very sexy position on his heavy mahogany desk, with her magnificent legs crossed, her back arched, thrusting her shapely chest outward as she rest upon her arms. His favorite black leather high tech backed chair was turned around, and facing away from him. Harold's normally squinty eyes shot open, and his nostrils flared angrily. "Who in the hell are you? And get off that desk now!!! SECURITY!!!" The skinny corporate man yelled at the top of his lungs. But no one came. The big leather chair suddenly spun around, and seated upon it was his second in command. Someone who should have been dead, yet sat there with a smug look on his face, about to light one of his priceless Cuban cigars, imported all the way from Terra. Harold Fumed, and took an angry step toward His Vice President Jack. Only to stop dead in his tracks again as he noticed a gorgeous red .50 caliber semi automatic pistol in Jacks hand pointed right at him. Harold didn't even have time to be scared for his life. The large bore pistol belched fire and thunder twice, and Tassiter felt both of his kneecaps shatter violently as the diamond tipped depleted uranium shells ripped through his ligaments and as if they were paper mache... White hot pain shot up his nerves to his brain, wracking him, making him convulse and cry out in anguish as he fell to the ground screaming, his blood spraying across both the Vice President and the gorgeous woman in a crimson cascade... Harold lied there, impotent and powerless there on his rug, thrashing around as his broken knees flailed around, squirting torrents of blood everywhere... Jack appeared unconcerned about his soon-to-be former boss, and more focused on the carefully rolled stick of aromatic tobacco in his hands. He fondled it with his finger tips for a few moments as Tassiter screamed all manner of curses at him... He ignored Harold's cries, his pearly white teeth flashing as they bit the end off of the cigar. Grinning with his high tech cybernetic mask's actuators, Jack placed it between his cybernetic lips. He quickly lit the cigar with the secondary function of his pistol, placing the end of the cigar into the flaming ruby barrel of his weapon and took a few drags.... Only to contort his artificial face into a grotesque representation of pure disgust as Jack lept to his feet and coughed out violently.... The Vice President brought the smoldering tobacco roll up to his eyes and looked at it distastefully. "Oh my god, these things taste like a 90-year-old hooker's well fucked ass," he grumbled, and walked over angrily to the legless man whimpering on the carpet beneath him. He could always have that rug replaced later... "As my first executive order, all of these damned things are outlawed immediately." Jack proclaimed matter-of-factly, and rubbed the smoldering red tip of the lit cigar into the forehead of Harold Tassiter, making him howl in rage. Then he stuffed the extinguished cigar into the crippled CEO's mouth, muffling his annoying cries somewhat. He then turned his handsome masked face to the gorgeous woman on the heavy desk. "Alright dearest," he said to her with a seductive gaze and a smoldering edge to his rich voice. "What say you that we break in my new desk properly?" He approached her hungrily, ignoring the flailing Harold behind him without a second thought.

Nisha had to admit, she had her doubts when Jack told her he was taking her to Helios for their first date. She wasn't expecting some romantic candlelit dinner, rather she would have loathed such a clichd gesture. There were some fond memories for her here, thinking back to how Jack so callously jettisoned those scientists and got her all hot and bothered. It wasn't until Jack explained what he intended to do here that she started to look forward to coming here. As it so happens, Jack did not disappoint. Nisha let out a squeal of her own as she watched the powerful bullets rip through Tassiter's legs. Oh, how the blood spurted all over, drenching the carpet below him. She almost hoped Jack would keep it, so the sight of the bloodstained rug could get her panties wet every time she came here. Eh, Jack wasn't into violence the same way she was. Sure, he seemed to enjoy giving people what was coming to them, but to him, violence was a means to an end. He enjoyed the result, but she enjoyed the process. Eh, maybe he would let her keep the rug. A souvenir of a wonderful first date. And this is why you want to use a Jakobs for this kind of thing. Nothing against Hyperions, of course hun. They are great for when you need to unload 30 bullets into a guy's chest cavity. But for this? You need that raw power. I mean, this is just beautiful. She gushed, hopping off the desk to join Jack as he towered over Tassiter. Her bare ass had left a lovely smudge on the glossy finish, and she was still impressed that jack had managed to talk her into wearing this...outfit. Trading in her jeans for some leather chaps and a thong, her practical kicks for these five-inch stiletto boots. Damn, if she hadn't already decided to fuck his handsome ass she wouldn't be caught dead in this ridiculously sexy getup. She would have to see if that silver tongue of his could work its magic elsewhere. Oh Harold, this guy wanted to strangle you. Seriously, just strangle you. Aren't you glad I brought me along? Well, probably not. The only thing you seem to enjoy is having sticks shoved up your ass. She asked the man bleeding out on the floor. She put one heeled boot on the side of his head, digging the sharp heel into his pathetic face. She turned to Jack now, running her hands over his chest and tangling her fingers in his hair. Well, if you are still in the mood to strangle someone, I am willing to evaluate your technique, She suggested, nibbling on his ear. Let's see if you can get me screaming louder than this guy.

Krystal had been feeling very sick these past few days, even throwing up a few times. "Ugh, what is happening to me? I've had all my shots.." she mused, looking around her giant blue bedroom in the imperial palace on the moon. Her long dark blue hair tails blew in the wind as she walked out to the balcony, looking out to Earth. "Oh Atem my love, I'm so excited for our wedding. Hopefully mother will let me go down to see you." She said, her big glacier blue eyes dreamy. There were a few things she had to attend to before leaving for Egypt though. The first being getting dressed. She was still in her pajamas. Krystal happily dressed, singing their song softly to herself. She knew there was something going on in her body, but she didn't know what. Once she was properly dressed, tiara and all, she slipped off to the infirmary, where she told the Mercurian doctors her symptoms and they took some tests. She would have her answer shortly. She hoped she would be okay to see her spiky-haired Egyptian god tonight. She loved him so much. A few moments later, a nurse came into the room Krystal was lying in, smiling widely. "Princess, I am pleased to announce that you are pregnant! About 2 months along. I'm so happy for you highness. Pharaoh will be quite pleased, I am sure." She said, smiling again at the blue moon princess before leaving the beautiful princess alone with her thoughts. "I'm pregnant?!?!" Oh, this is happy news, but I'm afraid of what Atem will say. Who knew that one night together after our engagement would change our lives forever," she thought to herself as she rubbed her stomach a little, getting a vision of their baby boy. "Marik. I'll name him Marik." She said with a smile as she left the room to prepare to go see Atem and tell him the shocking yet happy news. Krystal changed her dress at least 10 times before settling on a dark blue Egyptian cotton one that Atem had given her. It was his favorite dress on her. The young princess then painted her nails and toenails the same deep blue, smiling at her good handiwork. Next were her sandals. She chose dark blue leather ones with sapphires beaded onto them. When she was done dressing, she put on some light makeup and looked into the mirror, smiling. "Perfect," she concluded, and was off to the throne room to ask her mother if she could go down to earth to see her handsome pharaoh. The queen simply nodded her head and Krystal bowed thankfully, manifesting some moon roses for her mother and kissing her cheek. "Thank you, mother." She said with a bright smile and another bow, disappearing and landing right at Atem's chambers. She knocked lightly, hoping he wasn't sleeping, as it was around midnight his time.

Atem was not asleep. In fact, he was very wide awake, staring out one of the windows, looking up at the moon. The moon where his beloved Krystal lived. How he missed her so and usually spent his nights looking out at the moon when she was away. He was shocked when he heard knocking on his door. Not many would dare to knock at his door, especially so late at night. He turned away from the window and headed toward the door. As he got closer to the door, he almost gasped. Was that really his beloved at the door? He cleared his throat to slightly dampen his excitement as a precaution just in case. Finally, he opened his door and smiled softly before pulling her into his arms and kissing her. "Krystal, my beloved," he said. "Not that I'm not happy to see you but what brings you here so late?

Usagi watched the customers pass by the glass. Some of them paid no mind, others looked her up and down greedily and shook their heads at the price. One customer even laughed, she could hear them through the shop window, sharp and loud. Part of her thought he must have seen her shaking. She was the last survivor of Crystal Tokyo. They were defeated, wiped out, and she was the remaining prize. She had spent decades fighting for her people and now there was nothing left. She had been boxed up and shipped out like an artifact from an ancient civilization. Only she wasn't going to a museum. She was going to a slave shop... as a window piece. Usagi was dressed to the nines. They had spent hours changing her and curling her long hair. Her long delicate curls were sported in their normal pigtails with little pink bows and gold stars tied in random places. Her pale skin was smooth and decorated with gold sparkles glittering in the neon lights of the downtown. She had on light makeup, gloss to make her lips more pouty, rouge to make her cheeks flushed, and dark mascara to bring out her blue eyes. Usagi squirmed under the alien's staring. She was also dressed in nothing but lingerie. Pink, sparkling lingerie, gold stars and little moons embroidered in the lace, and a sheer white robe lined with pink fur. The most embarrassing thing by far was the pink leather collar, with a little gold moon tinkling against the chain that held her in place. She had been standing in the shop window like a mannequin on display for three days. She was past crying now, she just trembled as the aliens passed her. Usagi genuinely did her best not to even look at her potential owners. She ignored everyone that walked through the door, tensing when the shop keepers welcomed them. Crying wasn't going to help her, begging was useless, expecting anything less than the worst was pointless.

Garrus had it all after helping to save the galaxy - money, fame, and power... but he didn't have a good woman for himself. He had tried dating after the event with the Reapers passed, but he just couldn't seem to hit it off with any girls. So, he decided to use his money and connections to buy himself a good-looking human slave. Ever since serving on the Normandy, he found himself very attracted to human females, despite being a Turian. When he walked into the slave shop that Usagi was displayed in, he knew he had to have her, no matter what. He quickly struck up a deal with the owner - he would be allowed to fuck Usagi in the store for a very high price... then, if he enjoyed her, he could take her home after paying some more. Garrus waited eagerly for the owner to open up the display case Usagi was in so he could get inside and ravage her.

Hermione Granger openly gaped at the collection of house elves before her. It wasn't the elves themselves: Hermione had seen large gatherings of them before. She knew that several dozen, if not several hundred, of them worked day in and day out for Hogwarts. Hermione had literally seen them in action, had fought for them, formed SPEW. Yet what she saw now had her utterly dumbstruck. "This---this can't be happening!" she insisted, knowing her voice went too loud in the large room. Like many rooms at Hogwarts, this one went unused for the most part. The castle had many such chambers tucked away, not only the Room of Requirement that Harry had found and used for the DA last year, but also several others. The house elves were certain to use them all. In fact, that was how Hermione had found... found this... orgy of debauchery stretched out before her. Prefect Hermione Granger had been researching this for, well, it felt like months but weeks might have been more accurate. She didn't want to interfere with Harry right now, as he was busy taking lessons from Dumbledore and getting everything prepared for his inevitable confrontation with the Dark Lord. So Hermione figured that she could handle something like this by herself. Besides, it was hardly the sort of thing she really wanted Ron and Harry to know about. Just mentioning it to Ron would've resulted in belly laughter. House elves stealing witches' panties, seriously? Even Hermione had thought it ludicrous. Her own hadn't gone missing, but supposedly Ginny's and several other girls' had. As prefect it was Hermione's job to check it out. And as the president and founder of SPEW, it had been her task to believe the elves innocent until proven guilty. Oh, how very guilty they were right now. The virginal teenager couldn't believe her eyes. Never in her seventeen (fairly recently turned, mind) years of life had she ever seen... this. Not even the few times she'd nearly stumbled onto Ron or Harry looking at illicit wizarding magazines or confiscated such materials from naughty students. The room was just... filled with house elves. There had to be at least a dozen, maybe twice that. And more than half had witches' panties wrapped around what appeared to be... well, it looked like their genitals. Hermione couldn't recall ever seeing house elves... genitalia before. Yet here she saw several very erect specimens. Now, why did the female house elf who'd directed Hermione down here seem so bashful? The busy-haired girl simply couldn't believe her eyes. She kept working her lips, fighting the utter terror. "You!" she said, pointing at one of them. "You stop that---" Hermione paused, looking at a pair of panties, one that looked oddly... familiar. It took her a few seconds to realize why it did so and she flushed crimson. "Those belong to Ginny Weasley, not you!" she insisted, storming toward the elf in question, righteous indignation filling her every bone, making her small form quiver. She hadn't quite thought to reach for her wand yet: it still lay tucked into the pocket of Hermione's skirt, shoved against the side and nearly pushed up into her vest. Said grey vest, with Gryffindor color trim, covered a white blouse with rolled up sleeves. It all pushed down Hermione's already moderate bust, which heaved with indignation. A matching skirt, also fine grey with the Gryffindor trim, swished with nearly maximum regulation length meeting the top of a pair of long stockings. "You give that up right now!" she insisted again, stomping a foot and gesturing toward the elf. "I can't believe you all would even consider... what do you have to say for yourselves?" And she looked around, wishing that she could channel Mrs. Weasley.

The life of being a house elf was indeed troublesome. Having to work for witches and warlocks who often took their gifts for granted or mistreated them through malicious intent, clothing being their main bastion of sanctuary from that life. As such, it was perhaps little wonder why some number of these elves would take it upon themselves to have fun at the expense of the latest generation in those family trees. There was even perverse irony at play in how an article of clothing, namely young witch's panties, was the primary source of this fun, but none of the elves seemed to care on such matters as they busily went to work enjoying the ill-gotten wears. A number of them didn't even appear to care when the Granger girl showed up on the scene, with a few of them even seeming to grow further aroused at the fact that one of the young witches they had so far ignored was now watching them play with her classmates underwear. The one busy with Ginny Weasley's panties simply stared at Hermione as she called him out on it, with a perverse little smile spreading across his inhuman features as he spat out, "Mine for now! She can have them back in another minute!" His hand started jerking the panties even faster along his concealed cock as a few of the elves laughed at the response from their different placements within the room. The little witch is jealous, one suggested, while another that sat upon the table with one pair of panties on his head and the other hanging off his arousal suggested, "Are you mad we didn't take your panties, too?!" Another chorus of perverse snickers came out of this, with the house elves gazes settled upon Hermione in a way that perhaps wasnt the most promising in terms of her intent on getting them to listen to what she had to say. Maybe we take your panties right now?! One house elf seated upon a nearby stool suggested, as it reached out with a cool poker from the nearby fireplace and snuck it under Hermiones skirt long enough to lift it and give them a good peek before she could brush the object away. They seemed to ignore any other words of indignation she had to say as they snickered and whispered amongst themselves in a less than promising way, before the young witch's attention would be returned to the elf that was busying itself with Ginny's panties. All done! Here! It called out, before suddenly flinging her friend's panties, now soaked with several loads of house elf cum, into her beautiful young face. This earned a few cackles from the other elves, but this wasn't simply a lewd gesture on their parts, as the soaked panties acted as a big enough distraction for a couple of elves to sneak in on either side of the clever little witch. She needs to loosen up! One of the pair said, before Hermione was suddenly struck on either side by a bolt of magic. Even she could get to her wand in time to deflect one, the other should prove successful in hitting its target, as they aimed for the girl's midsection and hit her with a strong enough dose to likely cause a slight loss in balance. By now, each of the elves had taken a break from playing with the panties in hand, as every one of them gazed upon the witch who would soon find her senses heightened in such a way that even her very clothing would prove uncomfortable to wear. Come on, now! Let us see those panties! A particularly bold house elf declared as it and another suddenly grabbed onto Hermione's stocking-covered legs; their slimy cocks rubbing themselves along the material of her stockings, while their skinny fingers reached under that lengthy skirt to teasingly stroke along her inner thighs as their hot breath could be felt upon her skin.

Happily ever afters were a thing of the past. At least for the heroic sort - the good-doers of legend, those who always got the last say. They had finally fallen. No more 'good always triumphs'. No more 'true love conquers all'. Finally, the villains had won. Finally, it was their turn for happily ever after. And with such a shift in power, the world was now a very different place. No one knew this better than the uprooted royals - those who had tried their hardest to protect their kingdoms and had ultimately failed. Where once their lives had been filled with goodness, kindness, and innocence... there was now darkness, terror, and fear of the unknown. Families, friends, and lovers had been torn apart, shipped off to far corners of the land. Many had been sold to the highest bidder, while others had disappeared into the unknown, likely stolen straight out from under their keepers' noses. Everyone wanted a piece of the fallen heroes, after all, and having one of them in possession would boost your social status... and perhaps the price on your head, as well. It was hard enough to secure and afford one of these prizes, but there were two others to keep Rapunzel company in the dungeon she had found herself in. Both were red-heads, though one was more muted while the other was as vibrant as the paints she had used back in the tower. The one with the vibrant hair had yet to say a word, however, and Rapunzel wasn't so sure that she could speak at all. She exchanged brief words with the other girl, but there wasn't much to discuss. After all, they had lost everything... and though usually the heroes could come back from this sort of thing... it didn't quite seem possible, this time around. Life wasn't quite a fairytale anymore.

Michael was a warlord who had conquered the land. With the money he obtained from his conquests, he bought the three beautiful women who were now in his possession in the dungeon. Tall and tan, he had a toned body that was in shape after seeing many wars. He wore glasses that he pushed up the bridge of his nose as he walked into the cell with a grin. "My, my," he said, "what three beautiful women we have here...I want you to understand your place. You are my slaves now. You will do what I say, when I say. Otherwise, I will have you tortured and gang-raped by my guards." He motioned to his armed escort with a cheery smile. "Now then, do you three understand?" His cheery voice made it clear that he was sadistic.

The building was located in the middle of the Fire Nation and specialized in prisoners. The women had been kept in the worst of the worst prisons, and were offered the opportunity to go a nice place where they'd have their own bedrooms, access to better food, clothes that weren't rags, and several other "luxuries" but with one stipulation - this was a high end brothel. How the place ran was the patrons bought special tokens to give the girls. This stopped the girls from having the money to be able to escape. The girls would use these coins to pay for their meals or buy something from the few stores in the brothel. There were different token that were for different things: the more extreme the sexual act the more it cost for the patrons to get and the more it was worth for the girls to use. It had been about a year since some Fire Nation troops had attacked the group and taken Katara and Toph hostage. They'd spent that time in a prison where they were underfed and abused which made having a bedroom and three meals a day sound good even if it was at a price as by then their survival instinct had kicked in. When they arrived, they were given uniforms; short kimono dresses (Toph had a green one and Katara a blue one) and sandals. The men who ran the brothel had made it obvious that the uniform was to be worn all the time. Katara felt the need to protect Toph as she was so much younger and the fact that wearing the uniform meant Toph couldn't use her earth bending to "see" and she truly was blind. Katara had left out that there'd been a sign on the outside of the building advertising that the brothel had the two female companions of the Avatar. Now they stood in front of their rooms, the left had Katara's name written on it and the right had Toph's. Before opening Toph's door, Katara said, "I'm right next door if you need me. You don't even have to come over, just knock on the wall and I'll be right over." Toph nodded, and entered the room. She hated that she hadn't just lost her freedom, but also her independence. With not being able to use earth bending, she'd become almost completely reliant on Katara.

A Fire Nation noble had decided to visit the brothel today after a busy trip to the Earth Kingdom. He needed to relax and unwind, and he had heard there was quite the catch here at the brothel... one of the Avatar's companions. He bought quite a number of tokens, ready to engage in a number of sexual acts with the girl. He opened the door to Katara's room and licked his lips slightly as his eyes fell upon the body of the beautiful Water Tribe girl. He closed and locked the door behind him, moving towards her bed as he took out a token and tossed it towards the girl. "Perform a striptease for me," he commanded with a chuckle as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

Ichigo sat down on his bed, pulled his music player over to listen to something to calm his nerves. He had come home to tearful faces and being bombarded by questions he knew he couldn't answer. His dad was the most concerned, seeing as he'd missed five years of Shinigami training. He just smiled at him and told him he'd be ready to go eventually, he just needed time to recuperate. Five years though? He'd been gone for five whole years, he couldn't believe it. This couldn't be real, could it? He couldn't remember much of anything. He was walking into his house, that was the last thing he remembered clearly. However, there were other, foggier memories, a mask, a figure with blue hair and a...a mask...He bolted upright. Running into the bathroom, he finally took in his appearance, his hair was longer, he quickly ripped off his shirt completely, revealing what he least expected: the black tattoo arched across his collarbone, across the hole that rested in the middle. His eyes went wide as he stared at it. He realized then, he could never accompany his father or Rukia back to the Seireitei. He could never take his place as heir to one of the five noble families, as his father, Isshin, was reinstated as head of the Shiba clan not too long ago. He placed his hands on the bathroom sink and sunk to his knees. Hot flesh, beaded in sweat met cold porcelain, his fingers tightening their grip until his knuckles were the same shade as the object they grasped with such desperation. He stayed that way for a long time, thinking about what he was going to do, no one could ever know. If the other, if the Shinigami found out he was an Espada, his father could be cast from his own house and loose his position as captain of the 10th division. Rangiku was all too eager to partner with him again, as for Toshiro, Ichigo assumed he had been given a different captain position. He slowly stood up and stripped the rest of his clothes off. He tied his hair back and slid the wooden cover from the still steaming bathwater. Yuzu had been in here earlier it looked like. He was glad of that, he wouldn't have to wait for the tub to fill. He showered himself clean in the area next to the bath quickly. After cleaning himself thoroughly, he sat in the tub. His eyes closed, he traced the tattoos on either sides of both of his eyes with a low sigh. He had to maintain himself carefully, one slip-up and his family would suffer for it. He relaxed for a long time before he finally rose from the hot bath. He slid the wooden cover back over it for the next person to use and dried off with a towel. He grabbed an orange robe from the closet in the bathroom itself and slipped it on. Exiting the bathroom, he made sure his hair hung in the long orange, strawberry blonde curtain that it was, framing his face to hide his marks. His dad was walking past him into the bathroom. He smiled at him briefly before heading to his door."Yuzu Karrin and I are headed out to the mall, you wanna come?"he was asked this just as he was turning the doorknob to freedom."Um, no thanks, I really just want to get some rest okay?"he said in a rush to avoid his dad attempting to ask him relentlessly. "Oh alright, I understand, you need time to get your mind in order, but hey, don't be a stranger!"with a wide grin, Isshin pat him on the back so hard Ichigo was almost certain he was about to cough up a lung. He waved goodbye to his dad as the other man grabbed a bag from the bathroom counter and went downstairs, calling his daughters they all left the house, calm, cold, and quiet. Ichigo nearly fell over in relief as he tied his hair back once more into a strawberry shaped bun in the back of his head before he flopped down face first on his bed.

Pain was a beautiful thing. To watch life slip away from someone's eyes. To feel the blood drain from the tip of your blade and then only to saunter down and dry on your hands. It was sick and twisted, and yet he dreamed each day of getting his revenge on the one who took his dignity from him. Kurosaki had somehow turned everything around. Made him think, and soon what was something so easy, turned into something far darker than he had hoped for. Grimmjow began to stalk the orange-haired teenager. Trying to observe his human ways and grew bored with it in a matter of seconds. Instead, he wanted to enslave that boy and unleash his alternate ego, Hichigo. The hollowified version said to have sprouted from the thoughts of Zangetsu, but he wasn't sure if any of that was true or if the boy just had mental issues. This all played a large part in what Grimmjow had in store for the boy. How he wanted to train and mold him. How he wanted to make the boy depend on every single move! The thought alone made his dick swell with lustful joy! He watched, shamelessly stalking from the tree that was not far from Kurosaki'ss bedroom window. He stayed however slightly out of sight. Isshin did not need to see him nor the annoying yellow Lion plush that held the power of a Gigai. This would prove mostuseful just in case he needed to leave or was called away. Piercing blue eyes stared out at the boy as he face planted on his bed. In such a way it showed he was tired and above all else he seemed to be exhausted. Perhaps he did not notice the changes at all? It drove his mind wild with so many ideas and so many ways to break in his new virginal toy. But then his train of thought was ruined as he saw the plush toy hop up on the bed and then seemingly pester the shinigami. Great, how would he get rid of Kon? "HEY ICHIGO! What ya' laying around here for!? Why aren't you protecting Rukia in the Seireitei?!" Grimmjow arched an eye brow at that. That did make a bit of sense. Why had the subsitute soul reaper come back home and yet not stayed where he could be put to gooduse? Oh well it just meant that in time he would not have to worry about her either. It was not that he could sense if Ruia Kuchiki was there, but he saw her nor Isshin as a threat to him or his plans. Instead he folded his arms and watched. Wondering just how long the teen may sit here and allow the toy Gigai to badger him into getting up. Quite frankly, he would have eatten Kon if not ripped him to shreads by now. His voice alone was a kin to nails on a chalk board! Kon moved to climb up on Ichigo's back, standing tall as he started to jump up and down on the teen. He was so angry, that every single time Ichigo left he took all the hot babes with him! He would not sit back and watch Ichigo steal all the glory he knew he himself deserved! Kon honestly believed that he was the rightful one to use Ichigo's body. But it had been far and inbetween for the boy to cough up rights to his body for Kon to get in a piece of the action! Each time Kon jumped, his little plush paws squeaed in indefinate protest of being left behind once again! Because he was stuck in this lame toy, he missed out everything. Now Kurosaki would know his wrath!

Curtis smiled, walking up to the beautiful house that was owned by his daughter, Robyn Rihanna Fenty, who preferred to simply be called Rihanna. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers, as his intent was to surprise his daughter. This was the first week that Rihanna was home due to her busy singing schedule, and he loved to hear about her work. Once he reached the door, the father knocked on it and turned the handle, which was unlocked. "Hello? Anyone home?" The man called. The man walked through the house, finally finding his daughter in the living room, but not alone. Emma was on the ground, her ankles and wrists tied together. A piece of masking tape was being placed over her mouth as Curtis entered. Furious at the sight, the man got into a rage and began to attack. Unfortunately, the people that were intending to kidnap his daughter were younger, faster, and stronger. In a matter of seconds, Curtis was knocked unconscious, his lifeless body resting next to Rihanna's. When he awoke, Curtis felt really groggy and sore. He was somewhere dark and gritty, possibly a basement. One test of his arms told the man that he was tied up with cable ties. Nearby, his daughter was seated and tied to a chair. Unlike her father, rihanna was completely naked, and a man was behind her, groping her breast. "Get your hands off my daughter you sick freak" Curtis yelled, moments before being punched in the face. Spitting out some blood, masking tape was used cover Curtic's mouth, and stick his head in place. Now, no matter how hard he tried to move, he was forced to watch as his daughter was groped and fucked against her will.

Supposedly, today was supposed to be a good day for Rihanna and her dad, Curtis. She had waited for him to come over like she usually did, but instead ended up being knocked down and falling into unconsciousness. If only she had been watching her surroundings, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Even so, Emma Watson also got attacked, and was brought to Rihanna's household. Unconscious, Rihanna hoped her father wouldn't come to her house, but knowing her father, he would definitely come see her. He intended on bonding with her more, just as Rihanna wanted their relationship with each other to be even stronger than it already was. However, what the singer didn't want was for her father to be in the same situation as she currently was going through, much rather let him stay home. Yet, knowing her father well, he would definitely come to her rescue. When she finally regained consciousness, she felt someone touching her, and it was unpleasant. She didn't like this! Unable to do anything, she let the molester grope her breast. "D-Dad!" She cried out as a painful thrust pushed inside her. Tears uncontrollably spilled from her eyes, letting out a storm. Totally humiliated due to the fact that her own father had to watch her be fucked senselessly didn't make Rihanna's situation better. It only made it worse. The worst part about it all was that it not only hurt greatly but her father had to watch her too!

Virgins don't do porn. It seemed like such a simple thing to say, something that pretty much everyone would take for granted. Why would someone want their first sexual experience to be recorded? To be "fake?" Plus, what attractive person these days made it to the point where they could do pornography without losing their innocence before that point? Apparently Selena Gomez. The pretty Hispanic wore a trench coat and stood in the middle of a house that practically screamed "porno set." Everything looked modern, fancy, appealing, but lacking in anything like warmth or any signs that someone would actually live there. The room in which the virginal young lady stood happened to vaguely resemble a living room. Several long white couches formed an elongated "C" opened up before a fireplace, which just so happened to have a fur rug stretched out on the floor. Several other "chairs" sat in various places. A keen eye would note that simply sitting in them would put someone into a strange position, almost perfect for certain... activities. The wide open room had excellent natural lighting from a set of wide glass doors that opened up onto a connected pool, which all extended into a stunning view stretched out below. Stairs led up to what would be bedrooms designed and stocked for just this sort of activity. Everything about the house had a decidedly sensual vibe about it. Even the young lady nervously shifting in the room and looking around. Selena had a sensual body: anyone who looked at her could see that. Her Mexican heritage probably helped flare out her lips, giving her a set of noticeable curves despite her lean dancer's body. Firm breasts stood out on her slender chest, all covered with the coat. Flowing black hair extended about a slightly rounded face that would likely always have a slight youthful look to it. Despite being legal, Selena still looked as if she'd sneaked out of high school. Even her tendency to chew her lip and the nervous look in her dark eyes spoke of someone who kept expecting an adult to come along and take her away. The girl didn't seem to quite realize that any adults in this house would take one look at that heart-shaped ass and, yes, they would certainly think of spanking... but not in the manner the girl would think. Only the expertly applied makeup, which brought out those nervous dark eyes and made her lips look a little more plump and kissable, made her seem a little more adult than she actually was. "So, uh, we agreed to, like," Selena stammered, looking around to the "professional(s)" in the room, "to do this," she reached up to brush back some hair for a moment, fidgeting again. "And, ah, you'd said to, to wear something... something... sexy?" She undid the coat, letting it fall open to reveal the frilled bra that worked well to hold up the pert little titties. A matching pair of light pink ruffled panties covered her "naughty bits." "I, uh, thought this was... cute?" she reached up to fiddle with a silver charm necklace around her neck, a star shape that her father had given her for good luck. "Oh, right, and the contract," she dug into the coat, pulling out a folded piece of paper. "It was sort of odd and all, but, yeah, I figured everything works." Selena added a slight shrug before smiling just wide enough to start showing pearly whites as she extended the folded paper out. The girl looked every inch the jailbait tease, from the top of her pretty black hair to the frilled bra and panties to a set of pink wrap-around heeled sandals that extended her feet slightly and gave her already toned legs all the more toning. The girl looked ready to begin shooting a video... if not clearly aware of just what kind she had signed on for.

Frank was smiling using his nice guy, trust me smile. He was very slick and he knew it. It was all he could do to contain his joy as he knew he had this young starlet so fooled, it was almost time to spring the trap on her. She was the perfect victim for him, young and famous and so eager to prove to everyone that she was an adult and smart enough to make all of her own decisions. She had told him she wanted to make a film, something classy that would pass for a homemade sex video of her and a nice guy. Something that did not really show the actual hard core sex but merely showed some nudity, the sex part would be more suggestive or blurred out. She was not really specific but of course Frank was so understanding and convinced her he knew exactly what she wanted. Something that could be accidentally leaked out, so she could pretend to be outraged and get all kinds of sympathy and free press. As she was so very naive it was not too hard to fool her with the wordy contract he came up with. Lots of double talk and non-specifics of what may or may not take place while filming. More gray areas than anything. He merely convinced her they would take it slow, one step at a time and would only do what she approved of. He told her she would be able to view each part as they did it and she would decide what to cut and what to keep. The silly girl was actually believing she was in control of everything. Nothing could be further from the truth! Besides Frank, the director, there was Gerry, the sound and light guy and Ted, his main camera man. Ted had several stationary cameras set up in different rooms and he had a hand held one for close-ups and good POV shots. Drake was in this room with them as well, he was the male stud for the film. I want you to just relax now kiddo and remember everything I told you before. We take it one step at a time, well start off slow for you. Lets get a few shots of you two together. This will be like the beginning of an encounter, just some making out and light petting stuff, easy to handle stuff. This will be the lead in for the heavier stuff. He gives them both a few more instructions and then they star to film. They start with Selena on the couch, with her coat on. Drake enters the picture, like he just arrived or something and she gets up to meet him, they embrace etc. they start to roll film.

Red. Violet. Swirling Flames. It should have been impossible, however they seemed to be pouring out into the world like a river of curses. Everything was slowly being contaminated, almost as if it was repeating the same cycle that had brought it forth. She was too late... She had fought the war. She had won it. All for the glory and all she had left was the gore. As her right hand went up into the air, silently pleading for the anathema to stop, Rin Tohsaka finally remembered that she had classes to attend. An odd thought to have when the world was clearly ending. Willing herself to open her eyes, she finally came back to her current reality. Rubbing the sleep out of her blue eyes, she turned to the clock and realize that for once... She was up early. A soft groan escape her lips as she turn on her other side to snuggle into Shirou. Noticing that Saber was still asleep, she frowned as the fragile looking female king hog half of the bed. If it weren't for the bed being a king sized, Rin would have surely said something. However, she was comfortable in finally not sleeping alone. She was comfortable in finally being loved. Slowly, slowly, her delicate hands pushed the crimson babydoll down her lithe frame. Once it was off, she threw it on the floor, before settling herself in between Shirou's long, powerful legs. Just like he had started to develop into a fuller figure, Shirou had started to train even more and so, she silently appreciated his new muscles, while using some of the transportation magic to take off his boxers. Oh, she could already feel Lord El-Melloi II frowning at her. Mentally chastising her for using such an important spell on something so unimportant. In that moment, Rin could give one flying fuck as the English would say, about the stuffy Lord. She had needs and those needs came first before everything else. Lowering herself under the covers, she began to kiss Shirou's left hip, while gently tracing the 'V' bone with the tip of her tongue. Her gentle caresses guiding her towards the flaccid, large member between his legs.

The smell of iron filled his nostrils and the sound of clashing steel rang in his ears. It was a dream he had often, a dream of a fight that was insignificant to the world, but it was the most important fight of his life. It was him against himself, his idealist youth fighting his tempered and cynical future. He was broken in that fight and remade; the beauty of the clashing blades was mesmerizing to his eyes. The dream began to vanish, replaced with the bright light of the morning as his eyes slowly fluttered open. As his vision began to come into focus, he realized he was looking at the roof of his apartment. He turned to his right to realize Saber was still sound asleep, her chest moving up and down slightly to match her breathing. She was extremely cute when she was asleep and Shirou couldn't help but smile as he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead gently. He then looked to his left, expecting to find his other bedmate, only to find the space to be vacant. He was surprised, especially when he looked at the clock and realized it was fairly early. Had she gone to get breakfast somewhere? That was when he felt something odd about the lower half of his body. It felt like his boxers were off of him for some reason, and he felt a warm and wet sensation nearing his cock. He noticed there was a heap of something hidden under the covers and when he lifted it up, the mystery was revealed to be Tohsaka Rin in all of her beautiful, with her lips near his cock. Shirou was still removing the cobwebs from his brain, trying to will himself fully awake, so he didn't think too much of it at the moment. "Good morning, Tohsaka....what are you doing down there?" He asked, yawning but his tone full of curiosity.

Five minutes Miss Gomez" one of the crew said politely to the young woman. Selena looked up from her dressing room table and gave a pretty smile. "Thank you," she replied, before rising from her chair and brushing her dress down. No matter how many times that she performed, there was always a slight hint of butterflies in her stomach before each show. However, the moment that she walked out onto that stage, it all went away. When she began to sing, a professional calm took over her and all those nerves disappeared. Under those spotlights is where she was supposed to be and performing for her fans always made her feel so happy and loved. Selena had been involved in the industry since a very young age and as she grew, so did her fans. What were once preteens who adored her on Wizards of Waverly Place were now young women who bought all of her albums. They showed her complete dedication, even when her personal life came under attack, and for that she would always be grateful. Which is why tonight she intended on a little surprise. To say thank you, a select number of fans were going to be chosen to come backstage and spend some time with her. The brunette female smiled at the thought, her full lips glinted due to the plum gloss upon them which caught the light. Her long dark hair shifted around her shoulders as she ventured towards the stage. The black dress that she wore allowed her long, smooth, olive-toned legs to be clearly visible. Her heels added an extra several inches to her modest five foot five frame. The skirt part of the dress expanded out a little in a skater style and the top was laced in a beautiful pattern. It was see-through at the front, but completely backless from behind. Allowing her sleek, unblemished skin to be on full display. The cheers from the crowd became louder with every step that she took and finally she found herself at the side of the stage. Her dancers all gathered around and they bowed their heads as they took a moment to gather themselves and be thankful for the performance that was about take place. Music began blasting from the speakers, the lights and smoke machines started to go insane, and a wave of intense noise and heat washed over Selena as she stepped out onto the stage. Her voice began to sing and her dark brown eyes took in the sight before her. Thousands of people were screaming her name as the concert got into full swing.

It had been two weeks since Jeff surprised his daughter with tickets to the Selena Gomez concert, and the screaming had not stopped since. He knew he was winning some serious "greatest dad points" and that all of her friends would be envious. He spoiled her, but she was his only daughter. He also hoped that taking her to the concert might cut down on the amount of music he constantly had to listen to from her room, on the way to and from school, on TV, coming from the computer - it was almost as if he were leaving with Selena. Not that he would have minded. He had watched along with his daughter as Selena grew up and became quite the attractive young girl. A cute baby face, with a very womanly body, he would be lying if he said he never thought about her sexually. He helped him get through the countless award shows and performances his daughter made him watch. Finally, the day of the concert arrived, and the two of them drove to the arena where it was being held. Traffic was horrible, and soon Jeff began to realize just how popular this little girl was. After what seemed like hours, they finally parked and made their way up to the large building decorated with giant posters of Selena. Jeff wore some dark jeans and a button-up black dress shirt, with boxer briefs underneath. His daughter tried her best to dress like Selena, but quickly put on a T-shirt with her face and name on it, right after Jeff bought it for her outside the concert. Combined with the food and other merchandise he was buying, this concert was starting to cost him a fortune. They finally took their seats just a few rows back from the stage. Surrounded by young screaming girls, Jeff hoped his hearing would survive the night. Seeing Selena walk out onto the stage lifted his spirits though. She was quite attractive, her legs looking longer than usual, and her full breasts amazing as always. He watched her perform, his daughter lost in the moment. He had to admit, she was quite talented, even if he did not care for her music all that much. Soon, he had to stop himself from thinking too many dirty thoughts, as he was sitting right next to his daughter after all. He mainly stayed seated during the concert, only standing up a few times when his daughter dragged him out of his seat. He checked his phone more than a few times, wondering just how long it would all last.

It came in like a storm, but one with a consciousness or directive. The darkness seemed to seep from the clouds, even the rain tainted and turned cattle into horrors. There was nothing that could be done aside from run or die, but that didn't change the fact that people wanted to save others. Especially their family - for a twenty-seven year old male, this was the worst of nightmares. He watched as his youngest brother was dragged off, clawing and screaming for help. Extending out his hand to the young boy, the platinum-haired male jolted awake. Sitting under a large tree, he had fallen asleep there as it was finally a place that he felt comfortable enough to let unconsciousness take him. Eryan had been on the run for the last four days, literally walking day and night until he felt like he had put enough distance between himself and the darkness. Everyone knew it was coming, but didn't know what to do - instead of leaving and finding a new place to live, the humans all hunkered down together to try and ride out this inevitable storm. Eryan rose to his feet, wearing simple work pants that were a faded black color, he also wore a long-sleeve grey shirt that buttoned up in the front. His hair was tied back in the typical ponytail style that he normally wore it in, his face was a very pale color which was a clear indicator of undernourishment. Wiping his face with his hand, Eryan rose to his feet and dusted off his legs as well as his backside. Birds flew overhead from the tree he had been sitting under, and he looked up at the blue sky. Standing straight up and stretching his hands out above his head, Eryan stretched out to his full height of six feet five inches tall. His green eyes scanned the horizon and couldn't spot a black cloud in the sky. Which was a great thing as far as he was concerned, it meant the Darkness was still very much away from this area. Walking off from the outskirts of the town he had made it to, Eryan headed in towards the center of town following his nose. He hadn't eaten in over four days now, fortunately he had found a stream to follow for the majority of his journey which allowed him to drink water. But he had left everything he owned and everything he had of value behind when he ran; including his entire family. Eryan's nose caught the scent of meat being fried, and he couldn't help but blindly be pulled in that direction. He didn't have money so to speak, or at least not enough to buy anything that would fill him up. But that didn't mean he couldn't work for the food, and that was his intention and goal. Find someone who would cook him something in exchange for his manual labor. In his haste to find the food, Eryan was walking clumsily and hadn't noticed there was a female crouched down in front of him. Bumping into her, Eryan tumbled over the female's form and collapsed on top of her. "I am so sorry!" Eryan said from the ground as he looked up to the female's beautiful face. Her red eyes immediately grabbed his attention, as well as her blonde hair. "I did not hurt you, did I?" Eryan asked as he stood slowly and offered out a pale hand to help pick her up.

Perhaps she shouldn't have stopped in the middle of the road to tie up her heeled boots, but she had never dreamed someone wouldn't see her since her sleeveless dress was an endless cascade of ivory, splayed out beneath her. The force was abrupt and at first she had no idea what had caused her to fall into the dirt, but then the warmth of the weight on top of her touched her skin and she knew someone had actually fallen on her. She was more than displeased, but when she decided to turn her fiery red spheres that were her eyes towards him she couldn't help but feel her breath catch in her throat. The minute her eyes met his emerald-colored ones, which were so bright they practically reflected what they looked at, she felt something within her. She didn't know what. It was enough for her face to relax, since it had tightened upon anger when she had been knocked to the ground. Not that it mattered anyway because her expressions did not do much to ruin the femininity and softness to her face. She simply stared at him, as if she was trying to remember someone who she simply had never met before. Slowly, her eyes went to his hand and then back to his face. Taking a second glance, he looked more than just handsome. He looked like he wasn't healthy, something that was common among the poor. His clothes also told that same story being so faded and worn. "No, you didn't hurt me," she said with a smile that matched the softness of her voice. It could only be compared to a serenade of bells far off into the distance. Beckoning. Comforting. She had a voice that should have belonged to a Siren. She took his hand, feeling the roughness of his skin. Her own hands were not much better, being that they had just been in the dirt and dust clung to them. She used most of her own strength to get back to her feet and then patted down her cotton dress, attempting to remove most of the dirt. It was rather loose on her, but the collar of the dress dipped down to a low V that accentuated the cleavage she had. The first button was undone, the rest were secure. She sighed a bit as she moved to fix the golden locks of her hair that looked to be slightly unruly. She could never quite get her hair to sit straight on her head. But it was soft, and wispy enough to where it followed wherever the breeze took it. "Were you in a hurry?" She asked as him as she looked towards the direction he was going. What could he have possibly been running to that he didn't see her? There was not much in this town, just tired people who worked their hardest to live a decent life. She herself was on her way home to change so she could help out at the farm, and make sure that no monsters were bothering the livestock. The darkness was real and everyone knew of it. They knew those things used to be animals. Swallowed and corrupted and made into twisted things that did nothing but seek out life. Seek out their next targets to be swallowed up whole.

Ivalice. A strange land, a kingdom lost to time and space, one that was home to many beings and a vibrant civilization. Humans, Bangaa, Moogles, Viera, all made this place home and interacted with each other. They traded, fought, traveled, all under the auspices of the ruling kingdom, who maintained order via the Judges that served to regulate the various guilds that existed. But Ivalice wasn't simply a place that you could walk to, or travel to by boat. No, it was a magical land that existed in the deepest fantasies, a charmed world that ensnared those who entered it, the few individuals that it based itself off of. And in return it gave them what they wanted, their hopes and inner desires, so that they would never have a reason to leave and return it to dormancy. Yet the people of this world were unaware of that. They merely lived their lives, and let come what may in turn. And now the time had come again for a new character to enter that world, drawn from another by a magical artifact. It had tapped into her mind, and while she slept the world had been rewritten, changed all around her, until her old world was gone and Ivalice was all that remained. Even she had been changed, slightly, to reflect the new world that existed now. It was a new world, for her. A world in which the sun dawned people went about their business like nothing was the matter, like they had not sprung from the aether all of half a day ago but rather had lived there their entire lives, with their own histories and struggles. And a woman would awaken in a somewhat dirty, dusty, and empty alleyway, to confront what had happened to her and what she would do about it.

There were artifacts in this world that men were not meant to mess with. Books and spheres and all manner of things that could end poorly for those who took such unassuming power into their own hands and did as they desired with them. The sphere had seemed harmless enough, a simple trinket in the ruins. The young woman had been separated from her two friends when she activated it, sure that it would simply be some manner of historical record or somesuch. Paine had been wrong. She awoke in a dusty and shaded alleyway, her body cramped up and her head feeling like it had been packed to the brim with cotton. Other women might have been very concerned about what had happened. Had they had a drugged drink? Had they been the victim of some type of attack? Paine, however... "Eugh... what fresh hell is this?" she muttered to herself as she slowly dragged herself up the wall behind her. She felt warmer somehow, like she was still wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket that hit all the right spots. Her body was caressed by the wind itself, and she groaned audibly as she stretched out tired and cramped muscles. "Now where's the others?" Paine called down the alleyway. "Yuna! Rikku! You two screwing around?

Rise had outdone herself this time. The first night of the school trip had been off to a boring start, and she mentioned a club she had performed at. She made some calls, and had a room set up just for her and her friends. The group of friends from Yasogami High - Yu, Yosuke, Kanji, Chie, Yukiko, and Rise herself - had their own room to escape the quiet hotel room the school had rented. Rise led the Investigation Team in, eventually finding out the room was upstairs. "Let's go!" He said, giggly as usual. No one really knew what to expect, and when they arrived, they were greeted with a room similar to a karaoke room, a nice table adorned with several shiny glasses and colored liquid in them. "Don't worry guys, I told them non-alcoholic drinks." She said, winking before sitting down. She picked up a yummy looking blue drink, taking a sip before wincing. It was strong! Maybe it had a weird ingredient? The group followed suit and sat down. Yu picked up a red drink and took a sip. "W-whoa." He said, making a face as the drink burned his throat. What was in this? The group chattered among themselves, talking about the trip, their advancements in the TV World, among other things, as they drank. As time went on, Yu, Yukiko, and Rise had definitely fallen under the effects of the non-nonalcoholic drinks, a light blush on everyone's face. "I-I think... These ha-hic-had something in them." Yu said, pulling at the collar of his shirt. "I told them non-alcoholic!! I really did!!" Rise said, her pouty face on as she looked at everyone. "I knew these were weird. Well... we just have to not let anyone catch us. It's not far to the hotel, right?" Yosuke said, looking at his bro, Yu. "We are underage... We don't need to be-" Yosuke was quickly cut off by Rise, who was holding up some sticks. "Wait!! We can't leave yet! We need to have some fun." She said, standing and holding out six sticks, one with a red mark. "We should play the King's Game! The king's orders are absolute!" She said. She quickly explained the rules, how ever drew the red marked stick is the 'king', and everyone else has to do everything the king commands. "Take one, everyone." She said, leaving one for herself. Each of the group took their pick. Yosuke and Yu bowed their heads when they noticed they lost. Chie closed her eyes before she revealed that she didn't have the red stick. Rise had the red-marked stick.

Chie's cheeks flushed almost immediately after she had taken a long sip out of her own beverage, something green, minty, and strong. "It'll be fine, guys," Chie said, both hands wrapping around the glass as she leaned forward. "Besides, these are tasty! Thanks for setting us up, Rise!" Chie said. It hadn't taken long for all of them to fall under the effects, though perhaps Yosuke had abstained the most. Chie's cheeks were pleasantly red by this point, and she felt nice and warm. Maybe it was alcohol, maybe it was a placebo, but she wasn't letting go of her glass any time soon either way. When the sticks got passed out among the group, Chie dreaded who might end up with the red stick... and it ended up in perhaps the worst possible hands -- Rise. One of two people to know about her crush on their glorious leader and the only one of the two that could act on it (Yukiko was too nice, far gone into her giggles, and didn't have the stick to boot). "I don't think this--" Rise's eyes flashed dangerously. "Number 4!" Chie gulped and spared a glance at her stick. Oh, shoot. "Sit on... oooon--.... number two's lap!" she said, pointing right at Rise. If they'd been more sober, they might have questioned how Rise would know who had which randomly drawn stick... but such was a question for later. "Um. A-alright," Chie said, pushing herself up to her feet. She sidled around the table, and slowly sat down on Yu's lap, pressing her firm bottom right against the seat of his pants. "L-like this?

Fennmont was a lovely city. Forever shrouded in the dark of night by a spirit clime, it made do with beautiful lights in golds and blues. And in an ordinary world, this is where everything shifted. Nachtigal, at the behest of Gillard, devised a weapon that would destroy mana and spirits all for the purpose of tearing a fabric in space and time, leading to one Jude Mathis and one Milla Maxwell setting out on a grand adventure into all the world. But what if Jude had never gone after his professor? What if he had never met Milla? What if the young man had simply stayed in the hospital that night, done his work, and never went to find the Lance of Kresnik? Just going to bed like the world hadn't shattered around him. And what if, in all of this, Milla's world was flipped upside down with the Lance of Kresnik, and a hole was torn far too early. A hole into a world that was not Elympios but oh so very different? "Hey." A pressure settled firmly on Jude Mathis' gut. Two pressures, really. Booted feet settled firmly there on him as a girl leered over him. She was cute, a girl next door type in a yellow dress with a parasol parked over one shoulder. She had blue eyes that might have been cute and innocent but which had their youthful sparked by a mind far too old to look so adorable. Her voice, additionally, sounded a lot more like a woman in their twenties than the girl of... well, she LOOKED around sixteen, but a sharp mind would perceive her to be much older. Ednascowled. "Hey. Human. Wake up," she said, prodding him in the forehead with the tip of her parasol.

The young doctor-in-training's eyes slowly began to open. Something felt...wrong...off. His chest felt heavy, much too heavy. He was lying in bed after all, nothing should have been on his chest. His vision was finally starting to focus itself when he felt something poke his head. At once, his training set in. Not sure if he was endangered and not even fully awake, Jude swatted at what was poking him in the head and quickly pushed whatever was on his chest off. He stood on his bed, dropping into a defensive posture to defend himself from something he wasn't even fully aware of yet. His vision finally focused on the girl. A young blonde who couldn't have been much older than him...if she even was older. She certainly was cute, but Jude didn't have time to dwell on that fact. He had locked the door before he had gone to bed, so how had this stranger gotten in? "Ummm, excuse me...but who are you and why did you break into my room?" Jude asked in his controlled but polite tone of voice. Even when he was facing a potential robber, he was still kind and polite to his core. That was just the kind of person he was.

The City of Midgar, a multiple layered city. Home to many societies and districts. The district we begin our story is, the lower district.. A woman garbed in a dark cloak moved through the junk lined Lower District, junk and debris. The woman's silver hair lingered out from the shadow of her black cloak hood. At her hips two swords one longer then the other, katana like but not like a katana at all. The girl was about 18 in height and appearance, her slender figure adorned with a shadowing, her feet carrying her towards the center of the district. Her stomach growling and her posture seemed like that of someone about to keel over, a drunk wandered by singing a tune and swaying to and fro, bumping into the girl spilling his bottle all over himself. "What the hell were ya doin standing around like that, bloody kid spilled my drink.... now how ya gonna pay fer it...." The poor girl would look to the man, her silver blue eyes looked to the man, and she gullible as she was began searching her pockets for a way to pay back the man, feeling she had wronged him... Her pockets had not a single gill to give unfortunately... "I... I'm sorry sir, I don't have any money to pay you back...." The man growled and raised his hand up as if he were about to strike her, and she flinched and backed away, the look of a flutter of black feathers puffed out when she moved suddenly, and the feathers seemed to blow away immediately, she looks up slowly.. The man was bringing his hand down and she flinched, she was going to get hit for not paying, across the street was a bar, the 7th Heaven.

Excuse me." That was all the warning either the young woman or the drunk man were going to get before a woman stepped right between them. She was in her twenties with the build to match, all wide hips, large chest, and disconcertingly (for the man) well-developed arms. Seraph would feel a hand on her chest pushing her back just a touch as her other arm came up, catching the man's forearm with her own. The hand on Seraph's chest left and came rushing forward, her palm striking the drunk man. It was not a hard blow, but the man's stupor would see him in the gutter in record time. The woman slowly returned to a neutral stance, glancing down at the drunk man who looked like he was about to say something. "Walk away, Cal, or I'm taking your tab away. You know what I've said about those anger issues," the woman said. The drunk man, apparently Cal, widened his eyes and muttered something under his breath. "What was that?" "S-s-sorry," he managed, before Cal turned to start crawling rapidly away. The woman turned on her heel, about to head back to the bar before... the girl made Tifa think twice of it. Silver hair, black cloak, katanas. Four faces quickly danced through her head and her mouth went dry. "Hey. Who are you?" Tifa asked. Sephiroth. Kadaj. Loz. Yazoo. and now this girl.

It was snowing by the time Hinata reached the Uchiha kingdom. She had been traveling via horse-drawn wagon, which would have been much faster if she had gone on foot, but she was also a princess and was expected to travel like one. And Hinata didn't mind, as she was in no hurry to reach the opposing kingdom. She had never come face to face with any of the Uchiha family, but she was understandably nervous to do so. She was alone in a foreign land; a land that was filled with people who had only a month ago killed her on sight. And there were of course a handful of individuals who still seemed to thirst for Hyuga blood, as her wagon came under attack multiple times during the journey. But the Uchiha had sent elite bodyguards for her, and no one got close enough to the wagon to even be a threat. That wasn't Hinata's worry, though. She could deal with assassins... but could she deal with the Uchiha royal family? She had been raised to see them as the enemy; cold blooded killers! And now she was to be wed to Prince Sasuke. She didn't even know what he looked like, and he had no idea what she looked like. In fact, not even her own people knew what she looked like. She was very sheltered... until now. Now, she was alone. But she knew she had to be strong and do this. It was for the sake of her family as well as her own people. And besides, if this could bring peace, she would do her best. Finally, the wagon came to a stop, and so did Hinata's heart for a moment. So they were finally here... she wasn't ready for this. Nervously, she smoothed over her dress and, for a second, closed her eyes to try and gain her bearings. And, just as she was opening them, the wagon driver had hopped down and was opening the door for her. Gulping in a shaky breath, Hinata got to her feet and stepped from the wagon and out into the courtyard of the kingdom... "Princess Hinata!" A warm, feminine voice called to her from across the yard. Blinking, Hinata lifted her gaze only to freeze when she noticed the woman scurrying on over to where she herself was standing. Hinata had never seen her, but based on her attire and the many servants around her, it was obvious... "Q-Queen Mikoto!" Hinata gasped, blushing a little when she realized how beautiful the woman was. She lifted her hands, not sure what to do or say. Luckily, Mikoto didn't seem to mind Hinata's surprise and just smiled warmly at her. "Please just stand still for a moment.. I wish to study the young woman my son will be wed to." She cooed, resting her hands on Hnata's shoulders and looking her over with those calm, steady, inviting eyes. Hinata held her breathe and stood still, nervousness written all over her face. Hinata was like a porcelain doll. Long, silky black hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks, and, of course, those lavender eyes that were as soft as the falling snow, which was proof of her lineage. She was dressed in a simple yet clearly expensive and custom dress, with fit her body perfectly. It was tight around her generously sized bust and petite shoulders and slender waist, but looser around her hips and legs. The dress was cream and white in color, with beads of shimmering opal laced into the neckline. "Hehe.. you will make me some beautiful grandchildren, Hinata~" The queen giggled, making Hinata blush and fidget a little. Smiling at her humble reaction, Mikoto wrapped a gentle arm around Hinata's waist and led her inside, where it was much warmer. "I'm sure you're exhausted from your travels... but first, allow me to take you to Sasuke. I'm sure he's dying to meet his bride." Mikoto hummed, earning a small, shy nod from Hinata, who really had no say in the matter. She quietly followed alongside the queen to Sasuke's chambers. Mikoto didn't mind Hinata's silence, as she too was more of the silent type. After a few minutes of walking through the castle, they reached Sasuke's room. Mikoto gave a few light raps at the door to let him know someone was entering, but did not wait for invitation inside. She simply opening the door, guiding Hinata alongside her. "Sasuke, meet Princess Hinata...

Sasuke sat on his bed, eager to meet his new bride-to-be. He was born and raised as the Prince of his realm, and had been taught to treat the Hyuga as noble and worthy foes. Sure, he had slain a number of them on the battlefield as was expected of him, but now, he was eager to wed their princess. After all, he had caught glimpses of the Hyuga women here and there, and they were beautiful, prizes to be sought. That is why he now sat on his bed, his red eyes shimmering with excitement at the thought of finally meeting this princess. When he heard the taps on the door, he stood up and braced himself... He was stricken speechless for a moment by the sight of Hinata...she was beautiful. He took in her figure, perfect skin, and lovely hair. He composed himself quickly however and stepped forward, gently grasping Hinata's hand with his own as he brought it up to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss. "My lady," he said, looking her in the eyes. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last." His expression was one of affection and desire mixed together. "Mother, could you leave us for now? I would like to get to know my future wife." He spoke, making it clear that he had lustful intentions for the girl in front of him right now.

A lone figure sat on one of the walls of Caer Callidyrr, the home of the Kendrick family, rulers of the Moonshae Isles. The wind whipped at his long brown hair and stirred his beard a bit, but he paid it little heed. It had been years since Owain Kendrick had been home, but the scent of the sea was still familiar to him. His hazel eyes turned to the sea, wondering which of the gods had decided to make a fool of him, to doom him to this fate. To be wed. Though he would not have been keen under normal circumstances, the one that confronted him was anything but; he was to wed Glinde, shield-maiden and daughter of the Northmen's king, Renner the Fury. If the daughter was anything like her father, then he had to wonder how long he would survive their vows. "Owain!" a high voice cried out, causing the man to sigh. A deft move on your mother's part, sending Alis to fetch me.He rose from where he had sat himself on the wall, standing on it for a moment and looking down from the parapet to see a girl of about five standing there. A frightened look was on her face for a moment, until Owain hopped down and then moved to the stairs, descending them to her. Alis, with her mop of brown hair, looked at him and frowned, "You could have fallen!" If only. The thought was brief, and Owain put on a smile. "No! You would have caught me!" he declared, and rushed over, sweeping his sister up in his arms as she giggled. Then he began to walk up the path that led back towards the keep. "I suppose that mother sent you out to find me?" he questioned the young girl. His sister nodded and smiled. "Yes, she did! And I found you!" "You did indeed," Owain said, taking her hand and walking with her. "Far easier now that I am home, isn't it?" He asked the girl, who nodded quickly. It didn't take him long to get within the main curtain wall of the castle where he sat her down in the courtyard. Alis took his hand then dragged him off towards the keep, evidently set on fulfilling her mission. As they made their way through the courtyard, Owain glanced around, marveling how little things had changed; the stables had been expanded a bit, as had the smithy, but the quarters for the various servants and laborers were still the same, as were the storage buildings that held all manner of reserves. The castle had been there a long while and he suspected that the walls would be in place still when his bones were dust. Once they had entered the keep, he was quickly confronted by a woman of at least fifty years, shorter than he, with a stern look on her face. His mother, Alicia Kendrick, was both a warrior and a druid, a woman of faith and steel who had protected her realm for years. "You must get dressed," she stated shortly. Owain flashed her a small smile and asked, "Can't I just enjoy myself for a bit longer? They can't be that close..." But then a horn sounded once, twice, thrice... the sign that longships had been sighted. Alicia looked to her son and said, "You best enjoy yourself. For today your marriage brings peace to our people.

Ye Gods have you no bottom to your enthusiasm?" Glinde crawled up the woman's body, kissing her all the way up. The wench giggled when Glinde captured her nipple and teased it with the tip of her tongue as she grinned in a predatory manner. "You're like...the ever-burning flame. The over-flowing cornucopia of the gods. The bottomless well...mmm and just as wet." This she added as she slipped her fingers out of her slick cunt and across her clit. "Oooohhh Lady Glinde..." the wench moaned, writhing under her touch. "You can eat from my cornucopia until your heart's content." Glinde leaned up to nibble on her ear before kissing her deeply. "Well, we'll have plenty of time for that later, won't we?" she suggested before withdrawing abruptly, rolling off the strumpet beneath her and onto the cot. The horn had sounded and she knew what that meant; she poured water from a pitcher into a basin and began to clean herself off, wiping off the sweat and fluids. Glinde herself didn't care, but she didn't think it would quite be good form to show up smelling of sex. "Later?" The girl propped herself up on her elbows and looked over. "What happened tonight?" Glinde smiled over her shoulder and winked. "Because I'm getting married, darling." As she stepped onto land Glinde tried to remember the girl's name but she couldn't. Not that she usually did, but the shield maiden was unaccountably nervous and trying to remember the names of the women helped her focus. Twelve in a week was slightly unusual for her, but it had been a last hurrah and gave her plenty to try to remember as they walked through the gates of the keep. Hanging on her father's arm like this felt weird; she was a grown-ass woman, she could walk herself. "Remind me why I'm doing this," she murmured to her father. "An alliance," Renner murmured back. "There are threats to both our nations, much larger than either of us...but together we can stand strong." Glinde sighed. "Right. Just don't expect me to curtsy or nothin'. Renner chuckled and it rumbled deep in his chest. "I'd sooner cut off my own beard!" Glinde had four older brothers, but he was fond of saying he had five strapping sons. He was aware of her...tendencies, but had kept them quiet for the eventuality that this day would come. As they crossed the courtyard she saw the royal family of the Moonsahe Isles come out to meet them. "Prince Owain." Glinde inclined her head respectfully as they were introduced and shook his hand with a strong, firm grip. "I thought it was bad luck to your people to see the bride before the wedding?

The gods envy us. They envy us because we are mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.- Homer,The Illiad When there is no guarantee that peace had actually been attained - or worse that it was lasting - there was no chance for Metropolis to heal in the wake of the battle between the Justice League and Project FairPlay. The Justice League had been officially cleared, sure, but then who carried the blame? Certainly not President Waller. Certainly not the innocent humans who merely wished to protect themselves against these understandably frightening gods of wanton destruction and intergalactic infamy. So who did that leave? Well, in the year since the official termination of Project FairPlay, the public opinion longed for a monster to chase, and put 'them' on the other side of the line from 'us'. Who cared if there was a public pardon and a retraction from the most powerful woman in Metropolis media? That was then. This is now. And now Jessamine "Jessie" Olson was officially screwed. Said most powerful woman - in the wake of what she personally called 'a disgraceful lack of judgment' - had retracted her retraction (was that even a thing?, Jessie wondered) and now Editor Lane was out for blood. How dare they fool her, how dare the 'bane of Metropolis' convince her that he was anything less than 'the Man of Destruction'?!And one perfectly timed shot of the attack one year ago had not only earned Jessie an award, but the position of the primo photo journalist at The Daily Planet. The photo - which had captured Superman striking down the last of the metal monstrosities unleashed by FairPlay - was not only commended for the excellent lighting and the use of angles, but because it was understood she herself must have had to put herself in incredible danger to be so close to the public menace...and the evil giant robot. But now that meant when the lovely Lois Lane decided to join a not so secret collective of Metropolis elite determined to capture something of the remnant Justice League to re-open the open hostilities. And if Jessie Olson could get a photo showing the Superman being a hero, certainly she could catch one of him committing a crime worthy of such anger. "So...anything?" asked the familiar voice of her long time, long distance friend Barbara through the ear piece of Jessie's cellphone. "Not even a little bit," Jessie sighed. She was laying on the bed of her matchbox apartment, her long, bright ginger hair dangling off the edge of the mattress as she held her camera over her head while scanning through the day's pictured. "Ms. Lane is going to kill me." "Ooooor she could get off her pretentious ass and carry out her crusade against Captain Trench Coat on her own," Barbara snapped. Jessie laughed and lowered her camera. "Ha. That's so funny it makes me almost forget my impending doom." Barbara was quiet a moment before continuing. "You don't think she's going to fire you, do you?" Jessie shrugged, causing the cellphone perched on her shoulder to jostle dangerously. "I don't fuckin' know," she said. "It's been months since she put me on this and it doesn't matter where I go...it's never where He is. And she's getting mad. Like 'hella mad. I got a five minute shouting lecture today. Apparently if I can't get my shot, I could go be a fifteen minutes of fame failure at another paper." "Well then tell her to dangle herself out of the edge of a building or something and I bet he'll come running-er-flying." Jessie grinned. "I volunteer to push her." "Nah don't do that - cuz then I'd be forced to arrest you," Barbara muttered. "And that's not something I want to endure on my vacation." Jessie blinked and set the camera down beside her. "Come again?" "Knock knock," Barbara said, and she hung up. At that moment Jessie heard a knock on her apartment door. Leaping to her feet, she ran as carefully as she could in her socks and opened the door. Standing there was a young woman slightly shorter than she was with darker red hair, bright blue eyes, and a bright smile on her pretty face. Jessie gasped and reached out to hug her. "Holy crap! You didn't say you were coming!" she shouted. Barbara laughed. "Isn't that the whole point of a surprise, Olson?!" Jessie let her go and took a step back. "I didn't think your Dad would give you off of Police Training!" "Believe it!" Barbara grinned. "Now come on, let's see if Metropolis holds a candle to the Gotham night scene." Thirty minutes later and dressed in a little black dress that showed off a fair bit of her fair skin and complimented the bright tones of her hair, Jessie and Barbara arrived in the entertainment district of Metropolis. Littered with coffee shops, clubs, and theatres the glitterati frequented, there was certainly plenty of places to see and be seen. Reports of two serial rapists on the loose in the area hadn't dampened the attendance of these clubs, and Jessie felt a little more certain being linked arm in arm with Barbara. Standing outside the biggest club around - the Emerald Room - the two girls chatted about work and boys. Barbara had met a young man named Dick who worked as an intern in Wayne Enterprises, and was already received excellent marks in her training at the GCPD Academy. "And that night he brought coffee to the house and you should have seen the look on my Dad's face! I thought he was going to pull out his pistol when Dick showed up at ten p.m. with my latte!" she grinned. "Thank God he didn't. That'd be one clich too many!" Jessie laughed. The little clutch Barbara was holding began to vibrate and she reached in to pull out her cellphone. "Ha! Speak of the-" she muttered and then looked up at Jessie. "It's Dick. Mind if I take this?" "Nah, I'll meet you inside," Jessie said. Barbara smiled and turned to take a few steps away from the line and the pounding noise. Jessie leaned against the wall and resisted the urge to start bobbing her head to the beat of the music like the very definition of a tool. Something caught her eye just out of the corner of her gaze. Something that moved way too fast to be human. Jessie turned around and stared at the corner behind her. She was sure she'd seen it...but what was it? Curiosity gnawed at her insides like a restless tapeworm and she felt her heart skip. No, she thought. This was exactly the kind of thing common sense told her to avoid...but the last time she'd seen anything move that fast it was...Him. Her fingers began unzipping her clutch and she pulled out her new iPhone 6. Time to put that excellent camera to good use! Leaving her spot as the last person in line she slowly began walking towards the corner. Just a peak. That's all she needed. Just one last chance to save her job...

Nobody understood him and that was the true nature of the Man of Steel, the one thing that separated him from all others beings on the face of the planet known as Earth. It was heart wrenching to be so separated from the people that you grew to care for, so different to be defined as something greater than a man. Human beings realized early their mortality and that enabled them to come to understand their lives in a way that he never could. It gave it flavor, it gave it meaning, and it provided for it a measure of pricelessness. Pristine and beautiful. Yet he was barely in his middle age but already wondered if he was truly immortal. He had faced so much in his short life and had come through it untouched, as he was untouched by all things, yet that was only physical. Emotionally he was decimated at the leaving of friends, at the betrayal of the world, at how everything he had invested and given had turned to ash before his very eyes. It held an irony for him that he had come to this world and had sought to bring it hope, and instead brought nothing but despair. He was Heman Guerra, Lor-Zod. Superman. The title was not lost upon him. Some viewed him as a man beholden to the laws of the land, some as a god, and increasingly by the nations of the world as a monster. It had instilled him a bitterness that had not been there before. Before he had been hard that was to be sure, before he had been brutal in his application of justice. He understood that, understood that he was short-tempered and withdrawn from the humanity of the world. It had been with his friends, with the Justice League, that he felt he had done some good. Yet now the League was gone, the moment over, and he felt a cold lingering bitterness towards the world around him. It ached deep inside of him, wearing him thin, leaving him with sleepless nights wondering when he would finally give up doing any of it. Terribly he could confide in none of them. None of the humans of the world could accept what he was, nor could they accept his pain as their own. He would never divulge it, never offer it up as part of his sacrifice. He had sacrificed far too much. This pain was his own. He would never give it up. So now he flew, he moved through the world, a timeless entity at the beginning of his eternal life trying to sort through the problems that being above mankind created. Surely there were those who envied him, surely they did not understand how easily he would give it up. As he moved, he saw...he noted the three men in the alley. He watched with detachment as they kicked the man to the ground, stomping on him, and then they turned on the woman...and began to do worse. Cold fury took over him, cold and unrelenting, and he moved. He punished. Unknowing that the brutality of his own assault might very well be caught on camera.

Korra's adrenaline was pumping through her veins like never before as she booked it down the narrow hallways, sending waves and gusts of fire behind herself to slow Amon down enough for her and Mako to be obscured from his view long enough to dive into the nearest room unseen. And, of course, the two didn't have time to discuss what they would do from there. Their main goal was accomplished: buy Tenzin and his kids enough time to escape while distracting Amon. Now, however, it was their turn to escape. Thing was,Amon was one quick bastard. As soon as they ducked into the room, they could hear the masked man barreling down the hallway despite Korra's attempt to slow him, and thus were forced to hide immediately. Mako, who was already a few steps ahead of her, threw himself behind a stack of crates and settled down low, so he could peek around the crate and watch as Korra found her own hiding place. Which, admittedly, wasn't the best. The nearest place to hide was a table with a white, long clothe tossed over it, and so, that was where she dove, ending up squatted beneath the table while sucking in a lungful of air to keep from breathing too loudly. She was panting, after all, out of breath from her mad dash to escape. And the only way to silence her rapid, uneven breathing was to hold it in. It wasn't that Korra wastotallyafraid to fight Amon, but his bloodbending abilities tied in with his ability to take her bending away was enough to cause the usually bullheaded young woman to be cautious. 'Please, please let him skip this room..'Korra preyed silently to herself, hoping that whatever malevolent spirit was watching would give them a break this once. Still, she listened for any sound of movement, unable to reallysee much of anything thanks to the clothe in the way. All while holding her breath, which was starting to make her chest ache... Maybe holding her breath had been a dumb idea?

It didn't matter what one called him anymore. Amon, Noatok, the Equalist leader or Son of Yakone -- he was so close. The United Republic's forces lay in ruins, the good General Iroh was on the run, and he was at the height of his power in a city brought entirely to its knees. And all he had left to do was take out the symbol of all that he stood against, the purest emblem of inequality in this world -- the Avatar herself. He would take from her what had been taken from him -- a future. He leapt over a gout of flame, arms over his face as he hurtled through the air like a champion athlete. He rounded a corner and... found nothing. Nothing but a door swinging on its hinges. Footsteps echoed in that room, heavy footfalls that drew Amon through the long hall and its many covered pieces of furniture. He was feeling through the room with his bending. The same way that any given water bender could sense the coming of rain or the more experienced kinds could sense it in the air or in plants... he could sense it in people. And here he could sense two bodies in this room. He sucked in a deep breath, and raised his hands. Korra wouldn't be able to see it, but she could hear it -- Mako's startled cry. A rustle of cloth. And then breaking glass as Mako's form went sailing out the skylight above them. Maybe there was a splash -- maybe he came out alright from the abrupt departure from the building, but she couldn't know. She might never know. Because suddenly Korra's body turned traitor and she was dragged straight out from underneath the table, right up to Amon and the hand that waited to wrap around her throat.

Etti IV, one of the wealthiest planets in the Corporate Sector, and a popular stop for those with the skills, emans and propensity for work fitting into the legal grey area (or leaning more towards black). The bar Arik Denal currently patronized smelled of the mingled foods, intoxicants and body odors of a few dozen different species as he slowly nursed his drink. The bar was the same type found on nearly every world with a major spaceport; dirty, dingy and poorly-lit, the local music from the live band an odd combination of high-pitch reedy woodwinds and a deep percussion, overlaid with cooing of the not bad looking female Rodian lead. This part of the galaxy wasn't Arik's idea of a good stop; for him, CorSec kept too tight a leash on things and on the rare occasion he could bribe his way out of trouble, they usually wanted three or four times what a similar 'donation' to an Imperial lackey would be. Unfortunately, he hadn't had much of a choice in the matter. His ship, a heavily modified Suwantek Systems TL-1800 transport named The Drunken Wookie, had developed a coolant leak, which not only caused him to burn fuel at nearly five times the normal rate, but also lead to a fire, forcing him to limp into port at sublight. He'd been a bit short on creds, forcing him into a situation of borrowing that was not... advantageous. However, it had allowed him to fix his ship and top off his tank; giving him the opportunity to run a couple short 'extra-legal' operations to way back the creds owed. He'd even gotten lucky; the recipient of one of his deliveries got pinched just before he dropped the cargo off, forcing him to sell it himself and make almost ten times what he was supposed to be paid. He'd paid back the loan, port fees, more fuel, even had some left over for minor modifications, consumables and some other minor bits & bobs. Which is when the trouble started. His loan shark now claimed that Arik had ratted out the delivery target and owed him more money. Arik disagreed, and the gangster's emissaries pulled on him; a mistake. He walked away; they didn't. He probably should have split the planet, but he felt he was on a streak of luck, and was loath to break that. So here he sat, in a shady bar whose name he never bothered noticing, in a small alcove off to the side, his back to the wall, slowly sipping his cool beverage as he bid his time until his next score. Arik stood at a hair over six-foot two, 180 pounds of lean muscle, his dirty blond hair shaved into a buzz cut reminiscent of his time in the Imperial Army, although he mainly did it to keep it out of his hazel eyes. For the moment, he was dressed in dark green cargo pants, a thick leather utility belt, black combat boots, and a tan jacket that covered the heavy blaster pistol he kept on his shoulder.

It was a damn good lucky streak, that was for sure. But luck went by many names across the galaxy, though few paid those stories any mind these days. For most, the Jedi and Sith had been a far-off concern -- the elite of the galaxy whose struggles existed far above the pay grade of the average butcher, baker, or candlestick maker. But a Jedi or Sith could come from any place, and it was always by the same avenue -- the Force. An omnipresent entity that decided the fate of everyone from kings to killers and princes to paupers. An entity that let one dodge that blaster bolt. Arrive just in time or just too late, avoiding issues either way. And it came in many forms, too. The light in a farm boy. The dark in a pretty young thing in a black sleeve of a dress... Vera Kolissclicked her way up to the bar and settled herself sideways into the seat beside Arik. She was exquisitely made up -- just subtle enough to make one think it might have been just her. She was slender, albeit possessed of finely curved hipbones and soft breasts. "Hi," she said, her voice downright sweet-sounding. "What're you having, big boy?" And compared to her, he really was. She could have only been 5'6" once one took into account her heels and hair. She was a slip of a girl, and only had eyes for him right then.

After months of patches and flawed launches, the first successful beta test of the newly upgraded League of Legends was to be tried globally, with players hand-chosen from a lottery of a thousand from different parts of the world. Players were advised via manual to remain absolutely motionless in bed while immersing themselves in the 4D virtual reality simulator, for a careless move could easily jeopardize the game's performance. But little did the thousand beta testers know that the system's programming was corrupt and upon logging in, exiting the game via their motor functions would be impossible. There was literally no return to reality after the player's avatar, a cybernetic copy of their carbon selves, would appear in the vast world of League of Legends. Every logged-in player was transported to a dimension void of anything but dark matter where a personalized 'champion select' hologram materialized in front of their simplified avatar. Not unlike a Normals match familiar to a 2D League of Legends game, several other parties (other beta testers) joined both the ally and opposing team, and champion selections were made left and right via a scroll-by menu. Alistar, Jax, Miss Fortune, Shaco, and Nautilus completed the enemy group, every champion following the first few to decide now locked in. The countdown was loud, deafening, even, over the clustered group of summoners cloaked in uniformed robes, a default attire for anyone starting at a measly level one. The last champion selection was made and a voice unique to the summoner who had made the last decision echoed loud and clear: "Don't you trust me?" Once the summoners had linked to their chosen champions, the invisible platform they stood upon dissolved, the bottomless pit of nothing below it pulling every summoner into another dimension unlike the limbo they had been trapped in a second ago. Each one came to, all ten summoners scattered in different places on a map not yet conceivable to the poor and inexperienced summoner. But, there was a blue sky above every head and firm ground below their rattled bodies. With the addition of a certain companion they had chosen to fight alongside... "Human," echoed a sultry voice, almost like a purr, in the depths of the summoner's state of unconsciousness. If the two hadn't been under the temporary, but promising shelter of a towering willow on the outskirts of town, she would have made haste to rouse the summoner from his slumber. Instead, she toyed with his sleeping body like a curious kitten until he came to on his own, the tip of her vulpine tail tickling the underside of his nose. She had a right to be fascinated; after all, it was Ahri's first time seeing, let alone synchronizing with, a summoner on the Rift map. Her nose seemed to twitch as she sensed the male fidget, toned, taut thighs then straddling the summoner's hips to welcome him in her own, coy way. She was naturally not so curious about the ways of humans as her dark history with them proved enough but this one she felt his aura was different, and even the slightest gesture of trust spoke volumes for the Gumiho. It wouldn't benefit her in any way to siphon a life that was ultimately linked to hers, anyway. She leaned in close, the arch of her spine beautifully curved so the fullness of her breasts pressed warmly against the flat of his chest. Her nails ever so slightly dug into the fabric of his robe. "Hello," she purred, her face just inches from his. "You're lying in quite a tempting position. You might want to get up.

Kazu Takahashi woke slowly. "Maru, get off me, you're heavy..." the young Japanese man groaned, eyes still sealed with sleep as he batted at the general vicinity of his chest, seeking to chase away the oppressive weight that must have been his tabby cat. Instead, his fingers became entangled in impossibly soft fur, too long and sleek to be his own. Any further doubts were dispelled by the sensuous, strangely familiar voice, spoken at a proximity truly troubling. He woke with a start. Burnished obsidians snapped open, widening far beyond his usual, collected expression. As he stared into effervescent amber eyes hovering but inches away, the grad student with a penchant for gaming found himself speechless, awed by the all too realistic face of one of his favorite champions. And not just that - the weight straddling him, the subtle feminine scent tickling his nostrils, the curious sway of tail raising above their entwined forms. He was too aware of it all, and would have reacted with mortification had he not been so otherwise excited about the peerless execution. "This is amazing!" Kazu exclaimed, dazed expression swept away by almost adolescent glee. His elbows exerted alongside the flexing of his lean but toned abs, and he pushed himself halfway up off of the ground, enough so that he was now sitting with Ahri astride him rather than laying down. "I've heard that rumors that some serious bignames worked together on this project, but damn," he continued his monologue, staring at the Gumiho with an intensity that only a truly committed gamer would understand. "This completely revolutionize gaming," he breathed almost reverently, a sense of awe mixing with his excitement. It was clear that the summoner had no idea what he had gotten himself into, something only compounded by his next action. Both hands shot up with sudden alacrity, digging themselves into the mass of inky threads, before almost rudely groping the two furred black ears, patting and scratching as he would his cat. "Wow even the texture feels genuine," he continued his examination, wide-eyed with fascination. "And you can understand me, right?" He queried, grinning with exuberance, "Ahri?

Tommen stared at his book, learning about some of the previous wars that had happened across the Seven Kingdoms. The book detailed the sides, their leaders, their strategies, and the victor. Every page was filled with gory details of people who died in the most gruesome ways. For most 17-year-old boys, this would be the best thing ever. But for Tommen, it was barely anything interesting. Growing up had never been a problem for Tommen Baratheon. His family was one of the wealthiest in Westeros, so he usually got what he wanted. At least, anything he could buy with gold. When it came to everything else, his brother Joffrey would get it. That's why it was such a shock when just the previous day, his brother was killed. Poisoned at his own wedding. It wasn't surprising that someone wanted Joffrey dead; after all, he was getting to be almost as bad as the Mad King. But to do it at his wedding was just horrible. One thing that did occur to Tommen though, was that he was next in line. He would be the next king of Westeros. So much responsibility, so much power... it made him feel extremely nervous. He knew that Lady Margaery Tyrell had been promised to Joffrey, but what would happen to her? Would she be Tommen's queen or would another woman step up to take her place? What would his queen be like? Kind? Gentle? Tommen hoped so and also hoped that she would be patient; Tommen had never been with a woman before due to his young age and shyness, but hopefully that was to be expected.. right? After all, weren't you meant to be a virgin until you were married? Or was that just women? The boy was wrapped up in his thoughts, he didn't notice his bedroom door open and close behind him.

Margaery tensed every muscle in her arms and mid-section to keep the door as quiet as possible. Like an assassin, she stole into Tommen's chamber. She had hoped to wake him gently and speak privately with him. Out of earshot of his mother and the rest of the court. Part of her was extremely reluctant to begin the dance of seduction again, but Tommen was so much more... human than Joffrey was. Something about him was so sweet and, even a little simple. As though things could only be right or wrong, without all the grey. It made her want him; to corrupt him, to preserve him, to cherish him, to use him up. All the conflicting feelings welling inside her created an overwhelming passion. She stood at the edge of the light his candles threw. Her long, white nightgown clung to her body in the chill of the castle. "My lord," she whispered. "I hope I have not interrupted anything important. But I hoped we might speak privately. If you will allow it?

Yenna shouldered her greatsword as she regarded the forests beyond the boundary of her camp speculatively. There had been reports of frenzied monsters all across the land as the virus spread, but here was one of the points of greatest concentration. In fact, it was the point of greatest concentration she'd seen in some time. It hadn't taken long for the guild to figure out that Gore Magala carried and spread the frenzy virus, and so large concentrations were assumed to be where they made their nests, and hunters were being dispatched to deal with such concentrations. She'd fought several of the beasts by now -enough to have earned armor and weapons of their scales and bones- and was one of the best at clearing their nests and purifying them to halt the further spread of the virus. That distinction of being one of the best was of course why she'd been the one called for the urgent mission to investigate this largest concentration. Where an ordinary gore often resulted in a handful of frenzied monsters, this place was a carnage ground, where every monster had frenzied and when the humans had fled in fear, they had turned on each other to feed the insatiable thirst for violence the virus instilled in them. Reports of multiple Gore Magala had fueled the guild speculation that this might be some sort of mating grounds for the infected dragons, but now that she was here wandering amongst the trees she didn't think that was the case. Monster mating grounds had clutches of eggs, and she had seen none, nor were any females there to choose or protect nesting sites. If there had been, she would have encountered one already... Feeling as though something was very wrong, the Huntress kept one hand on the long handle of her greatsword as she paced further into the wood, alert for any sign of trouble. Only Gore Magala could spread the virus like this that the guild knew, and yet, this didn't feel like a multitude of Gore were responsible for this, for there were few to none of the typical signs of their presence... No... This felt different, more dangerous than a Gore... there was a tension in the air that she couldn't quite place, and a faint... Shimmering? There was something glimmering in the trees, a shining scale, almost the polar opposite of a Gore's dusty black ones... "Where did you come from, and who do you belong to..." Yenna murmured as she carefully dislodged it from the tree bark and examined it... "What is going on here...?

As she plucked the scale, she would notice a few glimmering specs along it, reminiscent of the gore magala's frenzy spores. But instead of instilling a feeling of hatred and desire to fight all who crossed their path, this dust seemed to fill the body with an insatiable heat. All along the forest, one could see broken trees and torn up earth, but not from the thrall of battle as made evident by the numerous splashes of rather pungent monster fluids along the ground and trees. This looked less like a battle frenzy and more like a mating frenzy. As you pondered what could have caused this, a large shadow is cast overhead. What originally looked like the sun revealed itself to be a star-winged golden magala, the beast crashing through the trees, the same golden dust falling from its shimmering scales and spreading around it.

Shee-it. That was the thought that went through Roman Godfrey's mind as he scanned the club. Young, beautiful women and hip men danced with abandon to the thrumming music. The walls practically shook with the bass line, and the scent of pot and cigarettes, alcohol and sex wafted through the air, mixed in with the pheromones and sweat that emanated from the tuned-in and turned-on couples on the dance floor. His dark pea coat and tight pants gave him a commanding silhouette. He looked like a catwalk model, long tapers of his boots stylish in the way that only the filthy rich could look. His hair was casually messy; stylish and long enough to be sensual without making him look too feminine. There was a kind of classic James Dean look to him that night; a result of the immortal Upir blood that flowed in his veins, despite his short years on earth. He was going to live forever. He just had to find someone to satiate the physical hunger his body craved that night. Oh, it wasn't hunger so much as lust. He had drank enough nutrient to keep him satiated deep into the morning. No...what he needed was a beautiful girl with a hot, tight body who would match the angst and sensual need for sex and violence, repeatedly. He was looking for that spark of intelligence and kink that would keep him turned on most of the night; someone who had a high appetite for the physical that went beyond mere grinding. He slid up to the bar and ordered two fingers of Scotch, neat, and scanned the dance floor once again. His eyes slid over most of the patrons as being 'not her'. Not her, not her, not her...maybe her, not her...he sipped the fiery drink and took his time. Once he found 'her' he'd make his move, but until then it was simply enjoyable to see all the pitiful humans bumping and grinding in the hopes of getting their rocks off later that night. Roman smiled to himself. Worse case scenario he'd simply compel some sweet-mouthed piece of booty to suck him off in the alley. It wouldn't be the first time he simply got off and went home, finding no one in the club worth fucking anywhere but in their pie hole.

Lacey didn't come here often, in fact, she despised nightclubs and the type of over-cocky assholes that came with them. But what was a hungry predator to do when the place was full of unsuspecting men that she could drain the life from? Nothing was inevitable in Hemlock Grove. She hadn't sensed any other creatures like her; there was one Vargulf that had gone around eating the crotches of women. Pathetic really if you were going to kill someone at least have some creativity to it. Herself had grown tired of the same throat-ripping style that she had kept. Her amber eyes flickered over the mob of mundanes and something set her senses off. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, someone was disturbing her hunt. Anger twisted her insides, Lacey spotted where the pheromones were coming from. Fuck me, he's good looking, she cursed under her breath. Should she watch from a distance or pull him outside and rip him open? What a waste that would be. No, it was better to cautiously approach and see what would happen. Slipping closer to where he had stationed himself, she motioned for the bartender to give her a gin and tonic. It would give her enough confidence to challenge her fellow predator.

Long, slender fingers finished folding up the small, white piece of paper and guided it to the pocket on the front of the dress. Small hands started brushing off some of the dust off the leather black dress. Hazel eyes trailed from her dress up to the large building in front of her. The building didn't look like much. It really didn't. It was hidden pretty well in the world, and the woman wouldn't have been there had her sugar not poked and prodded her to go. Her busy hands moved back to her hair, making sure things were straight before she even entered. Dr. Harleen Quinzel better known as Harley Quinn let out a sigh as her eyes glanced over the building once more. She was dressed in a form-fitting leather black dress. Her blonde hair was tied up in two pony tails, one to each side. Her pale face perfectly exemplified her deep red lipstick. To finish off the outfit were knee high black leather boots with decent sized heels. It was one thing to walk in them, it was another to fight. Of course, her Joker had sent her here to maybe help her fight the Batman a little bit better. She understood though, defeat after defeat after defeat could weigh heavy on one's psyche. Even a psyche that was so manic could be affected. That was why she was here. The flyer hadn't said much beyond the fact that it was a "Fitness Club." Heels clicked on the pavement as she entered the facility. The front desk was unmanned and Harley let out an annoyed sound. "Hello?" She called out. Her voice filled with dissatisfaction. It was pretty clear that she didn't want to be there. She stepped slowly, just investigating the place. She was very careful. Her fingers around the heavy, oversized wooden mallet that she had brought with her. If anything, Harley thought, this place would at least allow for her to get a little bit stronger. "Is anyone home?" Her voice called out again. When no one showed themselves, she stomped her foot out of annoyance, a pout forming on her lips. Shaking her head, she turned and got ready to walk out the door she had come through.

The Aphrodite Club once one had gotten inside, would look like any other gym. It had an open spacious venue the building. From the looks of it was unmanned yes, and yet, there was the strange feeling she was being watched the moment she entered the building. Then, slowly appearing before her a woman, tall fit, and blond haired, wearing a jogging suit from the looks of it. Her toned figure, had just enough to it leaving her more beautiful than one might imagine. "Ahh, so you got the Elite Membership card it seems." The woman comes out from behind the counter and looks at Harley Quinn, and circles her. "I hope you don't plan to bring that mallet onto the exercise floor..." She spoke in a gentle tone, and would move with such fluidity, that even Harley would have trouble not watching her closely. Soon with a snap of her fingers, Harley would have found her changed, from what she had worn upon entering, to what the owner of this place felt would be more fitting for her to wear at a fitness club. The mallet would also vanish, it seems that the woman was not fond of people bringing weapons into a club like this. "Now then, I am Miss Aphrodite, and I do hope you have come to do some sweating?" Aphrodite spoke calmly, and gently reached a hand out placing it along the center of Harley's torso. Then, she glides a hand in circles till she had a feel, "It seems I have just the work-out for you, should you still want to participate?" The blond fit woman said calmly.

Carried over from PM It had been well over a month since the Governor had attacked the prison, scattering the survivors. Rick and Carl and the others were lost, most of the group managing to pair up, though looking for one another. Daryl and Beth had relied upon one another this last month, becoming lovers, and had slipped into a routine of comfort as they searched for the others. Beth had taken a tumble, bruising her ribs and arm. Not a life-threatening injury to be sure, but enough that they found themselves grounded and holed up in an almost empty store, the owners long departed or dead. Daryl had held Beth through the night, sleeping light and keeping an ear out for anything amiss. Habit made him set up the small perimeter fence even though they were inside and he'd yet to see the walkers learn to open doors. Kissing the top of Beth's head Daryl got up to take a piss, the barest hint of light peeking over the horizon. As he stood there, dick in hand, the telltale sound of an engine could be heard coming down the road. With a quiet curse Daryl finished up and got back inside, moving to Beth and covering her mouth just in case she woke up with a start as he gently shook her. "Hey Beth. Wake up, we got company." Daryl said.

Beth snuggled against her lover as they slept, her body aching from her tumble but still kept her body tangled around Daryl until he got up. She made a soft noise when he left, but remained asleep. When Daryl shook her, Beth snapped away, struggling to break free when she realized that she was being restrained, a hand over her mouth. But then she recognized the feel of Daryl against her, his voice in her ear. "What are we going to do?" she whispered once he had removed his hand from her mouth. She knew that with her ribs, running would be hard for her, possible but not with her normal speed. But hiding wasn't always a safe option either. But she trusted Daryl completely and knew they could figure this out.

What?" came out of Emma Watson's mouth as soon as she heard the news from her agent. Apparently, he'd jumped on the rumors of her playing the "famous" role of Anastasia Steele. Deals had started flying, money had started changing hands, and apparently now Emma had preemptively signed on to actually play the role. Of course, she'd heard of the series; she'd even dared peek at the books. It sounded decidedly unsexy from start to finish, much likeTwilightin all the wrong ways. But the rumors had started, and her agent apparently was more interested in money. And now that Emma was signed on to the project, she felt she had to commit. However, apparently there was "training" that you had to do to get the part. That, in the general sense, didn't surprise the British actress all that much. She'd undergone dance training before; she'd done accent training; she'd even done some training with "wand waving" and so forth. But the moment they mentioned training for50 Shades of Grey... Apparently they got a famous "BDSM expert," or possibly some sort of "sex expert" or "sex trainer" on board. The claim had become that they'd found the best guy in the business to help Emma along. He'd show her precisely what she needed to know to play the innocent girl exposed to BDSM for the first time. The irony of this situation wasn't lost on Emma, who'd been fending off suitors since before she even became legal. Unfortunately, between being Hermione Granger and her busy work schedule, such details as sex sort of fell to the wayside. Emma had learned to use various toys. Funny "fans" had ended up sending various wands for years to her, and Emma had picked one up about the time she'd gotten just curious. Sometimes she needed to destress, and that was the best way to do it. There were times when she dug her toes into sheets and clenched her jaw to swallow down some orgasms from time to time. They often teased that English were sexually repressed, and at times Emma fit the bill. Not that she wasn't attractive enough. Again: the fans had made that clear. As had the modeling agencies and several others. Emma had that good balance between girl next door and high scale model that held mass appeal. Some light freckles dotted a slender face. Brown eyes expressed almost every one of her intelligent thoughts. Her body was slight, built like the dancer she played in at least one film, but it seemed to fit her well. Her long legs had been shown in a few of her roles, and she'd learned to use them well enough. And now that woman stood outside a relatively reclusive location. It apparently belonged to the sex trainer, and he apparently made a bit of money, judging by its impressive location and facade. The message had been for Emma to pack a few bags for a weekend, and she'd done so. Simply a duffel with some clothes and a satchel with some makeup and accessories. For now she'd dressed simply, as was recommended: black workout pants and a pink exercise shirt. Her russet hair had been twisted up into a slightly sloppy tail that kept the slightly curled strands off her slender shoulders. Sighing, she knocked twice before sliding into the domicile, knowing she was already supposed to arrive. She looked around curiously, trying to find where the "trainer" happened to be and where she was supposed to go to get this training started.

Eric Wright had agreed to help Ms. Watson prepare for her roll, for several reasons. The huge sums of money they were throwing at him to prepare her for the role didn't hurt, but his primary impetus was that he was going to get his hands on Emma Watson, and he had plans to put in a bit of... 'extra' work, gratis, to take her and mold her into his owned woman. He smirked to himself at the thought. But that would come in time; no need to get ahead of himself. Normally what he did was borderline therapeutic work; helping a bored housewife discover her sexuality to delight her husband or even the occasional work with a couple porn stars to help them with some of their performances. Eric was a hair over six feet tall, with a lean yet muscular build which he worked hard to maintain. He had handsome, chiseled features, with short brown hair, piercing hazel eyes and perfect teeth, his face religiously kept clean-shaven, along with his chest and manhood. Today he was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a simple white t-shirt, and a pair of running shoes that he could easily slip off when he needed to. The location she'd been directed to was off the beaten path, on the outskirts of L.A. in a mostly abandoned industrial area, specifically a 'hidden' loft in an old warehouse; the entire setup screamed 'privacy'. When she knocked he opened his door, locking it again behind her. "Ah, Ms. Watson. A pleasure." he said, his voice smooth, with only the barest hint of a Texas accent. "I'm Mr. Wright. I'm sure you have been told exactly why you're here, correct?" he asked, crossing the room to prepare himself a drink at the minibar, motioning to her to ask if she wanted anything.

Leia's eyes were wide with terror as Han and Luke were thrust forward into the pit of Carkoon. Fighting the urge to scream, tears ran down her face as the sarlacc devoured her friends along with any hope of escaping. "You monster! You beast!" She voice was ragged and full of pain. Jabba let out a grunting laugh, not at all bothered by the scenes before him. If anything, he seemed to find pleasure in Leia's misery. Punishment for her betrayal. Her plan to escape had failed. Instead of a rotting corpse, Jabba sat with a mere scratch from her attempted assassination. The chain Leia was adorned with was now much thicker, too heavy to try again. Not that she'd ever have another chance like that. Her only salvations were now being digested by his favorite pet.

Jabba's laugh caused his fat rolls to jiggle, which Leia could feel on her back. His feline eyes peered at his new prize. "You will now come to appreciate me, princess," he said, licking his lips. "I'm your only chance at a good life now." He laughed loudly as he motioned for a guard. The guard held a large syringe with a pink liquid in it. He pressed the syringe into Leia's neck and injected her with the very powerful and potent aphrodisiac. Jabba had wanted Leia's mind to be completely under his control when she witnessed the death of her friends. Now that it was over, he intended to turn her into little more than his slut and cum dumpster.

This roleplay is about different storylines taking place in WWE. These storylines are of our own creation and have nothing to do with the actual show, though if any similarities appear, it is purely coincidental. Characters that may appear could be current stars or those that have left the show. The roleplay will also be a lot more sexual and just generally more adult than the show is now, or has ever been. In this post, a storyline described at the start in large letters, like this one. While not containing spoilers, this will detail what the storyline is about without giving specifics. Read on and enjoy! A rivalry begins between a Superstar and the Women's Championship Holder when she uses her natural beauty to distract him in a very important match. Another rivalry is formed this same night when the loser of the Women's Championship takes revenge. Alliances and Rivalries will form, as well as tantalising relationships. Characters: Face: Rey Mysterio Stacy Keibler Heel Big Show Paige Rey Mysterio stared up at the menacing face of the Big Show. A true David vs Goliath story, as he had to beat this man to claim the WWE Championship belt. He had versed the Big Show many times before, and had even won on a few occasions. He hoped he could pull that off once again. The ding of a bell announced the start of the match, and the big lumbering man began to walk towards the much smaller Mexican Luchador. Sliding between the giant's legs, he had almost gotten through, when he felt a large hand clamp around his neck. In a few moments, Rey was held in the air, and thrown into a corner. The speed (or lack thereof) of the Big Show was then shown as he ran towards Rey with the intent of clotheslining him. Ducking out of the way at the last moment, Rey drop-kicked his opponent into the ropes, setting up a magnificent 619 opportunity. Bouncing off the opposite ropes, Rey kicked the Big Show's waiting face and climbed to the top rope. Jumping off, he landed on the Big Show and went for the pin. "1... 2..." The ref started, before Rey was literally thrown off the big man. "Urghh.." Rey groaned softly, sliding out of the ring to regain some stamina. This is when he remembered Paige was in the Big Show's corner. "I'll be watching." Stacy told the masked man, winking at him before he slid back into the ring. Avoiding a Big Boot, Rey began kicking at the Big Show's legs. Once off balance, the Big Show was yet again put in a 619 position. One more kick to the face later, and the Big Show seemed out for good. "Hey, Big Boy.. Have a look at these." Rey heard. Turning around behind him, he glanced down to find Paige nearby. She opened her bra, revealing her nicely sized chest to him. Those orbs that hung freely for the man to gaze at felt amazing to stare at. Not noticing the hush that surrounded the arena, Rey continued staring, but then was elbowed in the back of the head, knocking him unconscious. The Big Show took the easy pin and won the match. "Well... It's the Big Show! It's a big, bad show tonight, yeah" His theme song began to play as he slowly walked out of the arena. Meanwhile Paige was taking this opportunity to brag about her win earlier that night. She spoke of how weak Stacy Keibler was to have lost to her, missing out on the Women's Championship Belt. Paige stood next to Rey Mysterio's unconscious body, which was not moving. Jerry Lawler was exclaiming at the fact that no one was looking after Rey, but it seemed as if most people cared about Paige's speech, or hoped she'd open her bra again...

Paige wore back her top, covering her breasts again as Big Show started attacking Rey, instantly winning the match. Paige then held the tightropes before putting one leg in and bending over, going into the ring. Paige then walked over to the referee, taking the microphone away from him. She then looked at the still unconscious Rey and started shaking her head left and right. Paige knelt down on the floor and started crawling towards Rey. She crawled on top of him and sat on him with her crotch rubbing against Rey's crotch. She then unhooked her top to reveal her breasts again. She bent forward and motorboated Rey's face. With her breasts still on Rey's face, she took the microphone and started speaking "Rey is just as big of a loser as that Stacy Keibler. Look at him, even with this on him, he still can't enjoy it because he fucking got knocked out. Just like Stacy, even if she wants a rematch, I will knock the fuck out of her again." Stacy Keibler who had been hiding among the crowd couldn't stand Paige anymore. Paige was facing the other way, Stacy quickly jumped past the crowd barrier and slipped into the ring. At this moment, Paige just got up and hooked her top back on. Stacy grabbed Paige by her hair and slammed her rolling on the ground. She then kicked Paige in the tummy a few times before grabbing her hair and pulling her up again. Stacy then grabbed Paige's arm and pushed her towards the corner. Paige landed hard on the corner and was groggy. Stacy walked seductively in a catwalk manner towards Paige and then as Paige turned around, she gave her famous kick on Paige's neck, pushing her feet against Paige's neck. Right after that, Stacy grabbed Paige and threw her across the tightrope, Paige landed hard and couldn't get up anymore. Stacy then slowly exited the ring and went down to Paige and said it to her face "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." She then walked out of the arena. Stacy then waited in the back stage for Rey to come.

Elise Torwin had definitely made some bad decisions in her life, but this one might have been one of the worst. She wasn't even entirely sure he knew her name. She didn't know his -- not for lack of trying, it had been redacted -- but here she was. Sitting in the back of an unmarked truck, briefcase in her lap, and a large imposing man sitting next to her. Everything was silent, except for the soft sound of breathing and the noises that came with a large truck moving. She had to break it though, she had a job to do."Give me your arm."This scenario was familiar. It had happened more than once before; he obeyed and she sedated him so that he wouldn't cause trouble between here and when they could get him into the chair. After the Captain America fiasco, sedative had been the only way to convince the higher ups that they shouldn't just 'end the program' right away. It was a strange and confusing moment of morality for the psychiatrist, and luckily she'd had a little time to think about things. Now though, they were using him more; one last burst to try and clean up some of the mess, killing SHIELD and HYDRA and anyone else they needed to be quiet now that so much was out in the open. Elise had no issue with the killing, and she'd used to have no issue with dealing with the asset, either. But now during the debriefings he looked at her with slightly more humanity in his eyes, and she could no longer wash away the smell of electricity and singed human hair that seemed to cling to her after she had to recommend the electric 'treatment' again. The doctor had always prided herself on her rational and emotionless way of looking at things, but once the feelings had started, she'd been entirely unsure of how to handle them. So now here she was. She'd spent the last month carefully withdrawing massive amounts of money, unsure if HYDRA was able to observe her bank account or not, and it was in her briefcase now, stacks of hundreds, fifties, and twenties rubber banded together. She'd memorized as much as she could off of his files, what they hadn't entirely removed of his history. She was pretty sure that if this worked he was going to kill her too, but she'd accepted this. Death by the man she'd helped to torture and control was probably what she deserved, but she might be able to use her knowledge to survive. She knew only he could see inside her briefcase, so when she opened it and removed the small vial and needle, he'd see what was in it. That was good, he'd need it. "I have a new formula today that should eliminate some of the side effects," Elise said with confidence. The burly man sitting across from her let out a gruff "it doesn't matter, he doesn't care", and Elise fixed him with an icy, almost elitist stare. She was the one with a degree, if she said that a new chemical was needed, it was needed. Of course, in this case she'd actually cleaned out the container and replaced it with a harmless saline mixture, but only she knew it. Carefully she took his arm, prepped the needle, and injected the large assassin. Now it was out of her control.

'Bucky thinking,' the asset thinks. 'The asset thinking,' he thinks. Memories. "Physically speaking," he says. *** It's like a crack that he can't fill. He doesn't want the memories to keep coming back. It doesn't want them. There is a war in his mind and both sides are fighting furiously. Both know the risks of what this means. Remembering. It brings pain, more than pain. Pain he can handle. Pain they can both handle. The weapon and the man sharing one body. They are comfortable with pain, it is a daily thing. Pain is something handlers don't tolerate. The chair brought desolation and despair. It was pure agony. Memories lead to the chair. They both want the memories gone. The body mumbles, unintelligible words lower than a whisper. Three two five... five, The needle was wrong. There was no warmth traveling through the muscle, spreading through the blood to cause him to be slow, altered. The asset's head shifts to the right, the side she is sitting on, three and a half inches. Eyes following the motion as the asset looks to the doctor. He'd seen the money. Something was different. The burly man leans back, his head tilting up as his eyes close. Relaxing since the doctor had done her job and the asset will be easier to put down should he try anything. 'You need to get away. They're going to erase you again. This is your chance. You have a chance. You need to run.' 'It has no mission. Asset does not have a weapon. Handler's present.' The asset turns his gaze to the man. 'They're going to put us in the chair!' 'We are a weapon.' When the truck they were traveling in hits a bump, his metal arm moves forward, the palm connecting with the burly man's nose, pushing firm cartilage into his brain. He shivers and dies. The asset sits silently. Falling. Snow. Screaming. Pain. Bucky. Sergeant. Serial number 32557038. He was a he. Not an it. He was trained to be a weapon but he wasn't an object. The notion keeps coming faster and faster after each wipe. The crack getting bigger, flooding his brain faster with facts. Facts Hydra had tried to keep from him. His eyes, human and alert yet cold and dangerous, turn to her once more. Why? He asks simply. He knows she is smart. He knows who she is and what she'd done to him. They have time. He kills. He wants to kill her. But first he has to know why she'd given him a needle which didn't put him down.

The night was cold, but nothing a man like Wade couldn't handle. Looking up, he could see the full moon, an ominous sign, and looking down, he could see her... in the window. His target, his ticket to a new paycheck. A snicker escaped his lips as he lay back on the cold wet rooftop. His voices louder than ever. He could barely make out much, but soon clarity became possible enough for a conversation. 'She is sooo fucking fine,' a voice said in his head, understatement of the century one might say. She was.... Gorgeous! With long legs, fair skin, brown hair, a tight frame that rivals most models... and those eyes! A beautiful gaze that melts your heart in an instant! Much can be said, for the list goes on and on. And, it may just be endearing, if not for the creepy fact that Deadpool was simultaneously thinking of performing a-"Wo! Narrator. Think of the children. I think my perverse thoughts should stay my own don't you?".... Ya I.... I can hardly argue.... "Well, then move on. But without describing my... Oh ho ho, uh, vivid.... Imagination." Yes... Yes... Any way! As he began to put his sniper rifle together, his voices continued their little conversation. It's progression resulting in an almost predictable but, honestly non arguable way.'But she is our target. She is worth 3 million dollars simply dead, double if alive... No one worth that much is any good, or worth the effort... Right...?''Well, fuck that. We don't know? So why snipe her? Make it personal. Maybe, if we get some context... We can help her!'"Help her? The fuck?! Why help her?" 'Think about it. If she is actually in need of help. We can use that, get some of that sweet tail.' "Well, other than that... It's always nice to be on the right side of the moral line." "It's half a thought, you hardly have anything. However, I think that's good enough for us to at least try." "Fine!"He said, as he flipped back and landed on his feet."We are going right in there!"'Ya!'Deadpool spoke as he began to pace back and forth along the roof top."We are going to size her up, see whats what and possibly... Hopefully! No absolutely! Get in that butt."'Right on! Liking the plan.'As Wade walked a fair distance from the roof's edge, he spoke once more. However, its stupidity was so profound that even one voice in his head could know it was really dumb. "And I'm going right through that window!"'Ya! - No! no! no! Don't do-' And before his thought bubble can truly object, he had a running start. Jumping from the side of the roof, and flying into the window in the lower floor of the building across from him. Glass shattered and sparkled in the dim light of the moon as the ominous figure rolled into the living room. Landing in a crouched position. Standing up, he was well within plain view of the women. Watching him from her bedroom. He faced her, seeing that certainly she must be in shock. With an intense look in his eye, he stared her down in the darkness of the apartment. Observing her in a manner that seemed methodical, calculated. When in reality he was staring at her amazing figure. He fought just to not have stone-cutting hard wood right then and there! Especially as he seemed to have caught her in a... well, compromising attire. Promiscuous, to say the least. But soon his tense stature and intense stare wavered, his ADD taking full effect."Oh! What a nice apartment! Mine is just plain out crap. But this is pretty charming. Not as big but lots of personality. Though, needs more unicorns don't you think? Or, huh! Maybe a uni-lion? How about that. How are you by the way?"... Crickets could practically chirp in that very moment, and would do nothing for the awkward silence.'Wow, quite the charmer I see.'Ya, nice work Smooth mcgroove, I bet she's all wet for the man breaking in to give her decoration praise. Maybe if she starts getting fashion advice from the scarred creep in a black and red leotard she will have nipples hard as a snow storm.'"Shut up.... I swear im better at this, I just got a bit nervous in the moment."He whispered towards the voices in his head. He was embarrassed enough and didn't need the ridicule to boot! But all that served was looking more crazy, as he called out to the silence to shut up."Ok I went about this all wrong..."'Ya think.'"Allow me to start this over, kay? Hi, I am Deadpool. And I am an assassin that came for your head."'Oh ya that's what she wants to hear. Now you have her swooning in your arms over a loss of her own HEAD!'" T_T We were totes going to get laid, now we're creeps.'"B-But I don't want to! Because you really hot. And I want to do ya... I mean, because I want to make sure I ain't killing an innocent. Ya that's it... Because you don't seem like some supervillian. You aren't a supervillian right? No ray guns or anything?"Meanwhile.... "It's unfortunate that Doctor Garret had to be disposed of. His expertise would have been invaluable for my project." A distorted voice spoke out. Wilson Fisk leaned back in his desk chair, hands promptly placed on his desk. "You mean, our project. Need I remind you of my funding?" The Kingpin spoke in a clear, concise, business-like fashion, but it was still in a threatening manner. One that demanded authority, attention, respect... fear. "Yes, ... Uhem... Yes Mr.Fisk," the distorted voice said sheepishly, his fear evident even through a conference call. Smiling, Wilson continued with their conversation. "Now, it was an unfortunate fate, Dr Garret simply refused to see reason. And paid the price for insulting the integrity of my personal character. However this is not a setback." Wilson said matter-of-factly, standing from his chair to peer out his window at the city of New York, beautiful from the heights of his office. "Will she be?" "She's being disposed of as we speak. I hired a suitable assassin... I've seen much of his skill, further he's quite natural at playing the stooge. I ensure you, with him nothing will come back on us. In any event, he will get the job done." And, in the highly unlikely event that whoever she works for kills my assassin, I have the price on her head currently going through the grapevine. It will be a shock if any mercenary in the country doesn't hear of it." The sinister voice from the call hums slightly to himself. Thinking carefully before he questions his business partner. "Why is it so unlikely?" the voice asks. "Well, he can heal from any wound," Wilson says with a chuckle. A gasped croak comes from the other end, perhaps choking on his drink? "Ack... Ack...What the hell! Don't tell me you hired Deadpool?" Almost worried, Wilson turns from his spot to face the phone on his desk. "Yes, he is not the most qualified. But as I stated he lacks any knowledge of us or our plans. All he knows is a target, a phone, and a drop off point. Further he is a ignoramus, a perfect stooge... Why, have you heard of him?" The voice on the other end sounds almost in undeniable rage. "H-Heard of him! He is the biggest oaf in the entire world! A laughing stock. He has thwarted me with the X men numerous times! A mercenary he may be, but he is a failure as one. Playing hero in the flip of a coin.... We must take care of this soon. Perhaps Deadpool will do his job, then again perhaps he won't. This makes him a liability. He will turn on you, for nothing more than the assumption that she will repay him sexually." With a sigh, Fisk walks back over to his desk. "I will try and trust your judgement. My own man will personally see to it that she dies. I would rather this have been done quietly, but it would seem im left with little choice. Just know, never speak of me with such irreverence again." Before the voice can respond, Fisk's fist slams against the phone. Crushing it under his outrage. Speaking in anger, Fisk calls out to the man who lurks in the shadows of his office. "The fool will soon outlast his usefulness Bull's Eye... And when he does, see to it he is dead." Walking from the shadows, Bull's Eye juggles a dart between his fingers. "I'd enjoy that... How about this situation with Deadpool? To be honest, he won't die but I'd be happy pinning him to a wall. Maybe make him watch me gut her. Guys a prick, be fun to watch 'em squirm." The kingpin rubs his hand along his bald head. "Yes, go, but don't play any games. Just get around Deadpool and kill her..." Miles away at the X Mansion~ Meanwhile, while events slowly played into motion, the X mansion remained quiet... It was a quiet night. Most students were gone to see family, friends, or on vacation. Because the X-Men were off saving the world. And because of that they just about had no professors to teach them. Few remained, and Jacob was one of those few. "Waaaaait! Hold on. Time out, narrator... This... This is shameful self promotion." Wade, you're not here, go away. Not till I know why this dweeb is named after you. "Oh... Well! Can't really argue. Ha ha, carry on then." Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! Jacob was not too excited about his current situation. He liked being in the action! Sure, he was a greenhorn, but he wanted to fight too. The only thing that made staying put worth it, was her... He could hardly believe his luck! Practically alone, with Rogue, for at least a few weeks? It was like a dream. Or some bad fan fiction. As the night settled in, Jacob had found his way to the pool. A slight sigh escaping his lips as he shuffled about. He did not really have any plans to enter the pool. His attire evident to that, jeans, hoodie and hat. He simply needed a place to relax. Take in some fresh air! Sitting around the edge of the pool, Jacob began to look up at the stars. Raising his hand high above his head, to see it in plain view with them. With a flicker, his hand was engulfed in an odd form of matter. It pulsed in his hand, seeming to have the consistency of liquid but almost as if it were to just arch like an electrical current. However, it stayed in place, despite its almost fluid appearance. Plasma, the fourth state of matter. There was a time where Jacob could have just stayed 'what?' to the very mention of a fourth state of matter. But now days, he has grown to be a bit more intelligent. After all, he lives in a school. And while Science was not always his strong suit. He had come to appreciate the knowledge of the science around his power. And the things he can do by controlling it... Looking up, and comparing his hand to the night sky. His mind's eye could see almost no difference. In that sky there were millions of stars, each explosive balls of pure plasma. It humored him every time he thought of it. The idea that, in a way, what he carried in his hand, was his own little star. But even with that thought humoring him well... His mood was still slightly drab. Happy? Yes, he was happy to be here with Rogue. But nervous as well... He has not exactly made his feelings a secret. In fact, he has tried for quite some time to make things closer between them. However, nothing's come of it. She just takes things at face value. As jokes, teasing, and playful flirting. Is it possible she just thinks he is being playful like he is with every one else? Or is she simply playing dumb? Maybe she just doesn't like him in that way... It would hurt, but it wouldn't be too surprising. Loving a girl like her well... He ain't ignorant to the dangers involved. Actually, it kind of turned him on! "Great Jacob your just an ignoramus..."He said to himself jokingly. After all, it took a special kind of fool to look at a girl that can break you with super strength and absorb your powers till you're in a coma or worse as a 'sexy kind of dangerous.' But really, you had to know her to understand that it was not so foolish. Any man would feel that. In fact, many men have! And Jacob would surely not be the last.

Oh! What a nice apartment!" Mina exclaimed as she looked around. "Mine's just plain out crap. But this is pretty charming. Not as big but lots of personality. Though, it needs more unicorns don't you think? Or, huh! Maybe a uni-lion? How about that. How are you by the way?" Truthfully, Adeline should have been expecting something, especially after what had happened the night before. She was planning to move, get out of town, and get back to SHIELD...but apparently she had been too slow. There was no question as to who had just burst through her window; she knew the man well, by reputation only. Smart mouth, kinda nuts...assassin...shit! The blonde went to move, quickly scooting from where she had been lounging on the bed towards the edge. It wasn't helping the situation or her awkwardness that she wasn't dressed appropriately for visitors. Having been getting ready for bed, Adeline was in her pajamas, or at least what she considered to be comfortable sleepwear. Long blonde hair was pulled up into a ponytail, which was loose and starting to fall to the side of her head. As she moved, the edge of the bed caught her off guard, causing her to fall off the mattress and hit the wooden floor with a thud. Green eyes peered up over the bed, watching as the masked man continued his conversation, seemingly with himself? Unless he was telling her to shut up, which didn't seem likely since she hadn't said anything. Keeping her eyes locked on her impromptu visitor, her hands started fiddling with the nightstand, hoping that she had something, anything that might help her defend herself. The pistol she usually carried was on the kitchen table, right next to her phone and SHIELD badge. None of it too helpful being so far away. "But I don't want to! Because you're really hot. And I want to do ya... I mean, because I want to make sure I'm not killing an innocent. You don't seem like some supervillain. You're not a supervillain, right? No ray guns or anything?" The words came out just as she went to throw...a romance novel at him? Ugh...brilliant. A long slender arm reeled back with a paperback gripped in her fingers. It wasn't going to do anything, she knew she looked stupid...but she had already fallen off the bed, the bar was already set pretty low. "Wait...did you just say do me? Are you twelve?" The paperback hit the ground, Adeline dropping it as her eyes narrowed in on the supposed assassin. The second part of his statement intrigued her though, as she certainly wouldn't turn down help. Especially from someone with more successes than failure under his belt. At least from what she had gathered from his file at SHIELD. "I'm not a supervillain, I'm not even a kind of sub-par average villain."Adeline made it to her feet, moving slowly, not sure what was going to happen as this whole situation was a bit...odd. "And if I had a ray gun I wouldn't have threatened you with a book...paper cuts can be brutal though..." Now that she was standing, she was reminded of her clothing...or lack thereof. Clearing her throat, she crossed one arm over her chest and let the other dangle down to try and cover her crotch. It was quickly decided that it wasn't enough cover, and she reached for the sheet on the bed, tugging at it and wrapping around her petite frame. "If you really want to help, I wouldn't say no," she said with a smile. "But if you're looking to score, the girl in 203 has an excellent rack...and I heard she's easy." She winked at him, hoping he would take the bait. If he wasn't going to help her, she might as well distract him. Of course, she left out the all-important detail that the girl in 203 wasn't entirely female...but that was something he could learn on his own. Rogue had been bored all day, to the point where she actually cleaned her room. It wasn't often she stayed behind, and she was starting to remember why that was. Everyone else was off having a good time, and she was stuck at home doing chores. At least she wasn't alone, although she hadn't seen Jacob all day. It was odd that he would stay behind, especially with everything so unbelievably boring. With a groan, she pulled herself up from her bed and made her way downstairs. The lights were on, automatically sensing the setting sun and coming to life. After peeking in a few of the common areas with no sign of life, she assumed he had maybe gone to bed or wanted to be alone somewhere. Of course as soon as she made it to the kitchen, she was able to make out his silhouette by the pool. For a moment, she just watched him, curious as to what he was doing. It seemed like a personal moment, and she almost felt a bit strange spying on him. Pulling a beer from the fridge, she popped off the lid carefully, not breaking the neck of the bottle. Super strength had its downsides sometimes. Flicking the cap into the trash, she took a deep pull from the amber brew and made her way to the large sliding glass door. "Hey shug...enjoying the sunset?" The soft southern drawl lifted through the air. It wasn't nearly as thick as it used to be, now being in Yankee territory, but it was still there. The sun was no longer visible, just a thin ribbon of pink painting the horizon, with stars already visible. "Or are you planning on taking a dip and want some... privacy..." Of course she was referring to his attire if he was going to get into the pool, there would probably be some undressing. With a soft chuckle, she made her way outside, the buckles on her boots jingling with every step. It was nice to be in normal clothes, although she still wore her faded leather jacket as it had become like a security blanket at this point. "Is it wrong that I'm itching for some kind of disaster? Nothing big, but I'm getting restless. Makes me wonder why you're here though. I volunteered to be on house watch; you could easily be somewhere else...

The ships crept out of the mist from the east, their high prows breaking through the mist before the wide, low hulls appeared. Oars dipped into the dark, foreboding sea pushing the boats forward. The small fleet, 23 strong, each ship holding men and women along with supplies as excitement rose while the oars dipped and rose bringing them to shore. Rollo stood in the prow of his ship, naked from the waist up, tattoos dark on rippling muscles as he gripped the haft of his large axe, a hand around the neck of the serpent attached to the prow. Ragnar hung in the rear of the center ship, eyes darting about as they planned and thought, the beach and the lands of Kent coming into view. Floki's lean, dark form hung off the head of the dragon, limbs swaying the body fore and back, high-pitched laughter echoing in excitement off the waves as they neared the beach. Rollo grabbed his long-handled axe and leaped from the bow of the boat to the beach, sauntering past the tide line to the long grass along the small beach's edge. Bjorn came behind, an appraising eye on his nephew with sword, shield, and armor. The freshly shaven sides of his head bristled in the faded mist of the morning. "No armor today uncle?" Bjorn asked, a titter from Floki behind who leaped to join them. Rollo turned then looked at the green fields that stretched before them, responding reverently, "I'm armored by the gods." Pounding his chest with a closed fist while the men gathered about, the boats pulled up onto the sand, the dull scratching of wood on sand surrounding them for a moment. "Well, let's hope the gods keep you that way," Bjorn joked recalling the archers they had faced in Wessex and Mercia. Laughter scattered among the men that formed a line on either side of Rollo as Ragnar, Rollo's younger brother and King of the Vikings, walked through them and led the way with a wry smile. Rollo replied in mock seriousness, "If they don't then I will curse you with my dying breath, and welcome you to Valhalla with the next." The raiders strode off the beach swords and shields at the ready. The men around laughing as Bjorn rolled his eyes and followed with a fading blush on his cheeks. On the rise ahead of them a small village was still a rush of activity as they stalked across the field, the shouts of the villagers echoed in the silence of the morning, shapes ran over the rise, scattering in all directions. Nearing the thatched huts only a few men stayed in the middle of the village, a small hunting bow aimed at them. The small fletched arrow sunk into Bjorn's shield in front of Rollo. Bjorn looked at the quivering arrow and raised an eyebrow, Rollo laughed and ran forward, bringing the axe down on the man with the bow. Leaving one man alive, Ragnar questioned the man on the ground next to the dead villagers. The raiders went through the huts, the villagers gone, only a stray dog left to scare the raiders away. The dog's incessant barking was silenced with a loud whine as the meager possessions of the huts were pulled out. Valuable metal was placed in the center of the huts as spoil while the ships were emptied and the supplies stored in the village. Rollo listened as Ragnar talked to the old man, the old man whined and pleaded as piss soaked his pants, Ragnar's threats with a dagger and Rollo's bloodied axe persuaded the man to tell them about the castle nearby. Rollo listened intently, learning some of the Angles language by listening to Athelstan and Ragnar in the past he had kept his knowledge of the language to himself. "Brother," Ragnar came up and clapped Rollo on the shoulder, "I think you should lead the next raid." The intent blue eyes looked up at him, the easy smile that came to Ragnar's face, as most things did easily for Ragnar. Rollo simply shrugged and with a wave to the men they walked on, the mass following him across the rolling green fields. The road was not that far from the village, the old man had told Ragnar that a castle was nearby. That much he understood. If there were spoils they would be there, Rollo knew it and while Ragnar had just gestured away from the village Rollo made up his own mind. Turning up the road, the men followed expecting something, anything, it did not matter since there was bound to be something in the land. Ragnar wanted the land, the obsession with farming had brought them here once before, Rollo had not minded since they left fairly wealthy, but since the death of Siggy home felt hollow. Empty. He wanted something, anything, that he did not have to share with Ragnar. The soldiers waited near the castle, that made Rollo pause as the men lined up beside him. Bjorn on his right as his shield, Rollo's hands gripped the stout handle of the axe tight, the muscles of his arms tensing as they formed the shield wall and walked towards the soldiers, the line a pitiful resistance to the hundreds of raiders covering the field. The raiders were a dark line that spread, like a great scythe ready to slice the castle from its foundations. The soldiers wore links of chain and carried sword and shield, one was mounted who stayed behind the line that advanced towards them, feet stomping across the ground a slow swell that built to a thunderous roar. Rollo felt the tension build as they slowly closed, the smell of sweat from the nervous men at his side assaulting his nostrils, the castle looming behind the soldiers. Raiders and soldiers stepped cautiously forward on the plain, the road a wide dark curve in the green fields about them, the soldiers stopped but the raiders kept moving faster and faster. In a few heartbeats they were together, the clash of arms rose and fell as the wave of raiders fell upon the soldiers. Men cursed and cried out as the soldiers tried to hold them back, the raiders being all men eager for plunder and blood. The soldiers, mostly older men, perhaps seasoned but a few who had never been in a shield wall who cowered and were the first to fall. The smell of piss and fear surrounded Rollo as he leaped through the line, axe swinging behind and above his head to come down and land on the head of a soldier as he touched the ground. The dull sound of blade on helmet came before the splatter of blood, the warm touch of it on Rollo's skin sent his heart racing. Giving a deafening yell, lost amid a dozen others, he jabbed and swung the axe at the men around him, nervous swords shaking and shields raised in fear as the soldiers stepped back then fell at the innumerable raiders that crowded around. "Come on," Rollo yelled as the soldiers fell back or down, blood soaking into the ground at their feet. The horseman rode at them, sword pointed down to run them through. Rollo stood before the horse, facing this once before he had learned. As the horse came he ducked to the other side and brought up the axe, the horse's momentum brought it into the axe blade and as the shrill whinny came the axe had bit through the chest and almost to the leg of the rider before the horse fell. The rider grunted as the horse fell trapping the soldier's leg beneath, before the horse could rise Rollo stepped over and brought the axe down into the man's chest. Armor and bone separating before the heavy blade. Turning towards the castle Rollo noted the silence as they were under the walls, the doors closed, but nothing sounded within. Eyes went from the high walls, to the towers at the corners, no one seemed to be in sight. "What do you think Bjorn?" Turning a cool eye towards his nephew, hefting the axe onto his shoulder, blood dripping down the haft, darkening the wood. "Should we knock and see if anyone is home?" As the raiders crowded before the gates, pushing and chopping at the edges, Rollo turned to two young men at the back of the group. "You two, run back and tell Ragnar we have taken the castle." One of the young men, barely old enough to have grown a beard looked downcast. A voice griped, "but we'll miss the plunder." Gesturing with the axe between the boys legs, Rollo stood close, looking down with mad eyes and a growl in his voice, "you'll miss more than that!" Fear ran across the man's face as his eyes widened. "If you hurry, you won't miss it all. Now go!" Shouting the last order, the two men took off running down the road. Turning to the gate, it was moving back and forth as the men pushed. The bar inside was sturdy and resisted the raiders as they heaved. Rollo added his own muscles to the line of men who pushed forward, a wave of motion that ran back and forth to the gate. The bar held, and he looked at the walls warily, expecting something from the tops, but no men showed. Judging the height, it was not a high wall, they had no ladders to reach the top though it was not that high. Getting a few men by the corner of the gate where the wall was low had them get on each other's shoulders. They were able to reach most of the way up. Walking back, Rollo judged the men and the height. Bjorn stood beside the men, a look of hesitation on his face as he eyed Rollo sensing the intention. "Are you sure?" "Why not? No worse than running uphill," holding the axe tight, Rollo sprinted to the wall, a foot on each man who suddenly saw Rollo heading towards them and stiffened. The first footfall was met with a groan as Rollo's momentum brought him up to the next man. Another foot and he began to feel his weight drag him back, pushing upwards. The men shivered but held under him. The last man shouted in preparation as Rollo placed his foot square on the man's back, the empty arm reached up and fingertips clasped the edge of the stone. The arm tensed and with his own shout and prayer to Odin, Rollo was up and sitting on the edge of the wall, looking down at the men below. A cheer went up as he grinned widely, the men stopped their heaving at the gate, raising his arms, the axe free in his hand, Rollo spun on his ass and turned to face the empty wall. Warily, he heaved himself off the edge, stepping down to the walkway, looking for an enemy. It was quiet, except for a sound that came from far away, he could not tell what it was. Coming from deep within the castle, it continued, rhythmic in a way, like a prayer almost. Moving to the gatehouse and down to the inner gate, Rollo swung the axe up twice, loosening the bar and sliding it aside with the muscles in his shoulders tightening and straining with the effort. The gates parted and the raiders entered with a cheer, the men shouting Rollo's name as they entered. Bjorn gave him an impressed smile. "Come on, Bjorn," Rollo said, "let's see what they left us." Men ran throughout the halls, the sounds of plunder filling empty halls. The clatter of plates and dishes, cracking wood of locked doors and chests sounded as the cheers and shouts of the men echoed. It was not a big place, Rollo was amazed at how the people liked to build these big stone houses, then when the raiders came they ran away. It seemed like a waste of effort. The men were enjoying themselves in a hall, finding a cask of ale they were handing out cups to those who came by, three came up and handed Rollo a big cup that he drained with a smile then took another and wandered through the halls. Hearing again that sound as he neared a set of stairs that curled upwards. Axe on his shoulder, he climbed up, the sound increasing. It was a song he realized, coming from somewhere above. Simple, and slightly haunting, but the voice was pleasant. Calming. Feeling at ease, perhaps it was the ale, Rollo wandered down towards a closed door, as he opened it he stood quietly, axe on one hand and ale in the other. In the room before the window, a vision from the gods greeted him, the woman was young, with a wide, round face and dressed all in white. For a moment, as she turned, Rollo thought he had died and it was one of the valkyrie come to take him to Valhalla. A quick look down saw the blood of his enemies but nothing of his own. She was breathtaking, as the eyes turned towards him he saw the lips parted. The song that had lured him came from her, the wide lips parted slightly as she looked up at him. Eyes bright and defiant. The simple white gown revealed a generous bosom, the long braid of hair was snaked with pearls. For a moment he was not sure what was more precious, her or the pearls. Then Rollo realized he had been holding his breath and exhaled deeply. Taking a sip of the ale as he looked at her, a wry smile changing to one of amusement. From behind two raiders came up the stairs and seeing the woman they began to move around Rollo, large as he was the door still had space. Raising his arms to block them he said simply, harshly, "mine." The two men slunk away as he walked into the room. Softly closing the door behind him, placing the cup on a table, leaning the axe next to it. "Are you all alone here?" He asked in Norse, seeing how small and unafraid she was. A true beauty, he had not seen anyone as desirable as Lagertha when they were younger. Siggy still remained in his heart and he loved her still, but the feelings that rose for this songstress were something deeper. Trying to seem as unmenacing as he could half naked and half covered in blood, he walked up to her. Switching to English, he held out his hands empty to show he meant no harm. "Hello." Rollo couldn't help but be taken by surprise in her beauty and demeanor. She had to know what would happen to anyone the raiders found in the castle. Yet she stood here, though shyly casting her eyes down, there was a determination in her that would not have been defeated if he had taken her here and now. Her body would yield under him, but not her spirit. Something about that caused a flash of memory to pass before his eyes. The determination to not lose, to rise out of the depths and come back and reclaim power and position. Siggy had wanted that, wanted it for him, at the time Rollo could barely see outside of his own despair and blindly followed Ragnar and his dreams. Rollo had dreams once, younger and more thirsty for raiding he had learned to revel in the pleasures of it. A soul unbound, taking what you could without restraint. It was a freedom of the soul that allowed him to feel alive when the rest of him had gone numb. Siggy had brought life back to him, only her death had brought back the melancholy that had taken over part of his life. Now, this woman of light brought a smile to his face. Flush with battle and desire for plunder, or for a woman, she stood before him bearing something in her that made him pause. The set of her shoulders, the head, it all made him think she was more than just another servant. She made him pause, and he did not know why, the gods were mysterious. The prophecy came back to him at that moment, "dancing naked on the beach" the seer had said. Rollo smiled and walked easily up to her, the sounds of pillage outside continued. "I don't speak it often, but I learned from a monk," the words came hard at first then flowed smoother as he talked. "One of your Christian monks, he taught my brother and me." A smile crept on his face, "taught it to us monsters." Looking down at her, the deep eyes caught him. Reminded him of Siggy, the voice though, the singing was like the gods and he yearned to hear it again. A chuckle ran through him as he could not help but smile at her, "you do not fear me. Who are you? Do you rule here?" "Monster? Aye," he growled in good humor as he stepped closer. Rollo turned his head down to look at her to test that name on his lips. "Daralis," the name sounded good, he rolled it around on his tongue again. Looking down into those amused eyes, the title filling his ears and forgotten. These people so loved their titles and relations that it was almost amusing. Though when Rollo heard the name of King Coenwulf that gave him a momentary pause, hiding it away for later consideration. A slight discomfort slipped through him as he noticed the smell of blood, noticing through the sides of his eyes that he was covered in the blood of his enemies, it always itched as it dried. Next to her, he did look like a monster, large and savage and covered in blood. As the rush and exultation of taking the castle began to fade, he felt the calm afterwards, saying a quick prayer to Odin as he stood closer to the woman dressed in white. Raising a hand up, tilted his face to hers. Locking his eyes with hers, he saw a strength behind those eyes, behind the bearing that he had missed in a woman. "Fearing no one is good, fearing death is better," he said, before moving his mouth down to hers. His lips locked over her own, touching them softly at first then with more passion as he held her face up to him. Fingers on her jaw, light but firm, as his own desires rose as he could smell her. Fresh like a field, unspoiled, the white like a sail waiting for its sigil. Soft skin rested against him, a slight shiver passing through her body as he touched only her lips, feeling everything in that kiss. Daralis was a beauty and a voice that he could truly treasure. Pulling back, a toothy smile showing in the beard, "you kiss well for the daughter of a king." She was there before him, ready to ravage. He could take her, despoil her, rip the pearls from her hair. A hand reaching up to stroke the woven hair and beads that gleamed within. The thought entertained him for a moment, "I am Rollo," he answered her as he enveloped her with his arms for another, longer kiss. The voices came closer again, the men who found the kitchen were handing out the ale. Licking his lips Rollo thought about missing his share, though Daralis was far superior to any ale that he might enjoy. Looking down at her wondered what to do, take her now, take her from here, hide her? The question haunted him for a moment until he heard Floki's voice. Then the doors boomed open, Floki with a full cup held with two fingers stood there unsteadily. Gestures always exaggerated the boat builder was a good fighter, but his obsession with the gods could border on the annoying. "Rollo!" Floki's eyes settled on Daralis, her small form almost hidden behind Rollo, hands joined behind his back. Rollo felt the hand tighten on his as Floki almost stumbled in the room, his usual gangly self a bit unsteady with ale. The dark rimmed eyes gave him a look halfway between drunk and mad idiot. "I had a cup for you," then a giggle as Floki looked at his empty hand, "but I must have drank it. I came to congratulate you, that climb up the wall, most impressive." Speaking as he entered the room, the snake-like body curled around his, dark eyes settling on Daralis. " What kind of treasure did you find, hm?" Normally Floki was tolerable, but flush with victory and drunk he could be insufferable. Reaching out to take a lock of Daralis' hair the giggle echoing in the small room, Rollo cleared his throat. "Floki," pushing away Floki's arm, "my axe is just over there," the warning was unmistakable. Floki pulled his arm back as if from a fire, head tilting in acquiescence as he swept his arms out in a mock bow, stepping back a little. "Alright Rollo, alright, if you want her, she's yours." Drinking some more from his cup, Floki turned on his heel with the grace of the newly drunk and wandered out to the hall, turning at the door. "When you are ready," he said, with an unmistakable hint, "we'll be feasting in the hall when Ragnar gets here." Daralis' fingers had been tight around his calloused hand, but now they relaxed as he let go. Keeping a hold on her hand, fingers entwined possessively, Rollo grinned at Floki and walked over to retrieve the axe. The blood had dried, along with the muck of battle that chafed his skin as he breathed, stepping from the room with axe in hand. He saw that the others had already gleaned through the rooms. Like crows pecking the dead, what was worth anything had been stripped, what wasn't broken or too heavy had been left alone. Rollo leaned the axe against the wall and took a cloth to wash the blood and muck from his arms, sighing deeply. Looking at his princess, a vision in her white dress, the jewels in her hair. It put a smile on his face, "seems I found the best treasure of the raid." Reaching down he pulled those sweet lips back towards him, her wide, lush mouth pressed against his. She smelled clean, tasted clean, and as he recalled her voice it was like kissing one of the gods. Beautiful and indescribable at the same time. Dipping the cloth in the water, he pulled it up to his shoulder, the water running through the blood and muck in thin rivulets that charted the muscular course of his chest. "Stay near me, speak to no one, look at no one," he warned her, "not even Ragnar." If he claimed Daralis as his woman they'd stay clear. A few would look, but knocking a head or two would resolve that and she would be left alone. What he did not want was her letting loose his secret of knowing her language. He wanted her, but taking her now would just invite others to try and take a turn after, the few who wandered up towards them wandered away with a look and a growl. While the heat of victory was on them all she was in danger until the celebration had ended, and with the raucous singing below the feasting had begun. The rise of voices told him Ragnar came, if his brother's eye came on Daralis he'd lose her. Just like everything else. Much as he loved his brother he was jealous of what Ragnar had obtained, and took away from him. Lagertha, whom they both loved, and then Siggy died for his sons. Rollo, absentmindedly washed himself thinking of Siggy for a moment, the old pain ached for a moment, he couldn't begrudge Ragnar his sons, but he did miss Siggy. Lost in thought Rollo turned to see her staring at him, the eyes soft and dark, Daralis. "So my Princess," grinning at her, "would you be willing to sing for the monsters later? That would calm them, then you would only have one to worry about." A low growl echoed humorously in his throat.

This creature moved so strangely. He was human, surely, one of the Norse men but he did not move like a man. He moved like a serpent. My eyes widened slightly as he slithered his thinner form into the room and began to speak to you. Shifting my gaze to you, it was evident that I was concerned. I didn't know what to do; nor if this male could cause me any harm. I didn't know what the hierarchy in the system was - if you were a leader, or if you were a servant, like myself. If this snake was a superior, then perhaps I would be vulnerable to his every command. If only I understood the tough Norse language, than I would have a better notion of their relationship - but at this moment, at a time of uncertainty, I had only one thing to base my knowledge on: body language. You didn't seem worried. Your glazed over eyes seemed more unimpressed than frightened, and that seemed to bring a sort of calm to my mind. I stayed close to your body, as if a baby pigeon sinking under its mother's wing. I had nothing to defend myself with but my wit, but with a man who spoke in Norse, I didn't even have that. I paled in comparison to your size, and even next to a thinner snake-man, I was still tiny. Still, I kept my back strong and my head high, not wanting to coward under his sneaky presence. My eyes tried not to look at him as he approached me, but they couldn't help but shift over to his slimy demeanor. As he grabbed a fistful of my hair, I whipped my head to the side, as if to hiss at him. I said nothing, but my reaction was clear in the sharp look in my eyes. Don't touch me. In that moment, your grip tightened in my hand. I wasn't so much afraid now, as I was becoming feisty. Just as quickly as I was to snap my head, you reacted just as fast - smacking his arm away from my body. He retracted like a snake, too. This human I did not understand - I found your monstrous form of fighting intriguing, but the black-eyed drunk was distasteful and offensive. I was relieved when he departed. My grip loosened and I let go of your hand. "Is it the ale that causes him to squirm, or does he always move so strangely?" Some may have deemed my tongue too rude, but I was consumed with both irritation and curiosity. I was utterly ignorant to the entire Norse culture, and if I wanted to survive, I had to understand. I watched as you walked over to the bath, crossing my arms below my bosom - holding them in each hand. The blood scabbed on your body became diluted, and began to wash off of your thick skin. As you looked back towards me and complimented, my enthralled gaze was broken, and my eyes returned to yours. Your statement had awed me. How could a beast speak with such a sweet tongue? I reveled in its sweetness - having never been told something so beautiful. My mouth opened to speak, but was speechless as my face reddened. Instead of speaking, I embraced your lips against mine; my folded arms falling from position. My fingers lightly grazed over your defined forearms as my lips separated from yours. I hummed lightly, smiling. Interrupting your hands as they washed your body, I stole the cloth from your grip and smiled. I dipped the bloody cloth into the lukewarm tub and soaked it. The blood transferred to stain the clear water, but I didn't take note of it. Taking the cloth back in my hands, I twisted it tightly and wrung out the excess. Bringing my body extraordinarily close to yours, I began to wipe your body for you. I listened to your words, but stayed quiet as I dragged the cloth over your back, and down your spine. As you asked me to sing, I began to hum a soft lullaby. Gently moving the cloth back up to your shoulder, I pulled your arm back and gently turned you to face me. I continued to hum for you, smiling as my eyes fixated on the blood fading from your skin. Dragging the towel over your chest, I pulled it down the front of you. As I passed it over your chiseled abdomen, my eyes followed the cloth closely as it trailed down your stomach towards the edge of your trunks. Coming to wipe the last splatter of blood, I lightly pulled the cloth away from you right before hitting your pelvic region. My eyes shifted to look at you as the lullaby ceased. "For you, anything.

It was late evening, a detachment of the Wu Empire army took camp near a mountainous range. The army set up tents and camp during their long march to meet the attack of their long-time enemy, the Shu Dynasty. However, the entire army was left unaware of the 6'7" tall man clothed in little more than a fur loincloth and possessing a very broad muscular build with long golden hair draping his scalp. The sound of a grumble from his stomach rolled out. His hand reached down feeling over his muscled stomach. "How long have I been walking... how did I come here..." He said, his tone grumbling and low. Upon his back was sheathed a massive sword. Its body was that of a claymore but the blade was heavy and blunt, the hilt was crossed and the edges of the cross guard had axe-like heads, leaving the weapon deadly from slashing or bashing with the guard. The hulking man then caught a whiff of something; food was being cooked. He looked down the mountain slope seeing the camp below, where small men were running about. They looked like some army foot soldiers, their weapons crude and cheap. The loud rumble in his stomach brought his attention. He was too hungry to think straight. So he began to draw his sword and rushed down the slope of the mountain side. Roaring out a battle cry, he charged towards their food. The giant of a man charging down the hill suddenly drew a stir from the watchmen. They shouted about some strange man charging at them. He used his blade to cut down one of the watchman and breeched the camp, charging straight for the food prepping units and assaulting anyone in his way. However, he took out a good few of them. A dart blower got him from behind, slowing him down. The feel of more darts being buried into his body. Still, he continued to fight, simply for a bite of food. He reached the food storage tent dragging himself that way. The darts and their toxin were starting to slow him down. The camp finally united against him before he could reach the tent, standing in his way with spears aimed at him. One of the Wei officers stepped out from the tent and began to speak. "You... brute why are you attacking us... and where do you come from?" The officer spoke. The brute simply stared at the man and raised out his sword in an attempt to attack him. "Hungry..." He grumbled out but before he could finish swiping down his sword a hard thunk on the head caused him to crash forward. The man behind him was holding a ladle in hand and looked at the dropped brute. The young man was a kitchen staff member. "He just started attacking... what is he..." The officer began to beckon men to bring rope and a cart so they could load the man up for imprisoning. "Have him delivered to the prison tent... Lady Zhenji will likely wish to know we caught a rather rowdy brute...." He then moved to where Lady Zhenji's tent was and calmly cleared his throat standing outside the tent. "Lady Zhenji, I know you must be tired but we have captured a rather rowdy guest, I would advise if you visit him you not do so alone." He didn't hear any movement inside and then pulled open the tent front and looked inside. "Lady Zhenji do wake up, it is not becoming for the commanding officer to be spending her day laying about her cot.

I heard you the first time," Zhenji growled angrily at the officer who intruded into her tent. She was dressed in a white gown and blue undergarments, her cleavage and bra revealed. She rubbed her eyes lazily, these lower ranked officers didn't understand the effort it takes to be a commander and how tired it makes someone. She sighed, "Let's go see this brute you've captured then, how dare you lot disturb my rest." She got up and casually took her chain whip from the table before following the officer to where the prisoner was held. "Oh my, he is quite the big brute isn't he?" Zhenji smiled seeing his large muscular body, "And very interesting hair..." Her fingers stroked the man's blonde hair. "You lot can leave me here, I'll question him myself when he wakes up. Now go!" She commanded, she was going to have this big man all to herself. With his arms securely tied with rope, she wasn't afraid of him escaping. While the man was still unconscious, Zhenji took the liberty of exploring his body and tight muscles, her hands roaming around his chest and abs, loving the feeling of his hard muscles. "I'm going to have lots of fun with you when you wake up." She laughed. This day just got a whole lot better.

Rin Tohsaka frowned; she was sure she completed the ritual correctly yet no servant was summoned and no command spells were marked on her body. Worse yet, she found that she had been teleported to a strange and deep forest, the likes of which were rarely seen now in the modern world. Rin was very confused. She knew the teleportation could not have been her own. In all her years of studying and learning magic, she had never even come across magic that could teleport objects or people. Where am I? She wondered as she explored her surroundings carefully. Hello? Is anyone here? She shouted as she walked, wondering if this was part of the War or if she had made a terrible mistake in her summoning ritual. Many of the more senior and powerful shinobi were all gathered in the Hokage Tower, including the Konoha 11. Ino stood among her teammates as the room was buzzing and everyone was discussing what was happening. "Everyone quiet!" Tsunade's voice boomed across the room, and the noise died down as everyone turned their attention to the Hokage. "Right, so something very strange has happened, and our world is right now host to something called the 'Holy Grail War'. I don't know what this really is, but seven people called 'Masters' from another world have been summoned here to compete in this 'War.' I've been told that the winner of the war gets any wish granted for them and those who aided them. Now some of the other villages are using this as an opportunity to invade and claim more lands. We as the village of the Land of Fire must also participate in order to defend ourselves. So the mission for all of you today is to go out and find a 'Master' for us to ally with. It should be easy to spot them as their chakras will stand out. Now go!" As usual, Ino was assigned with her Team 10, and they headed out to try and find a Master. Even though the circumstances seemed weird, Ino tried to think of it as just like another regular mission.

Sasuke Uchiha had been following the strangely dressed girl in the shadows for awhile. Sasuke had heard the news from one of his informants about the Holy Grail War and the Masters that were now among them. This girl he was tracking had an extremely unique chakra, plus with how she was dressed and her reactions, she had to be one of these Masters. Sasuke decided to go out on a limb and cast a hand sign, activating his Sharingan. He then cast a potent genjutsu on her, one that would make her feel like she was in a dream-like state, making her horny and aroused while also making him appear very attractive when he appeared. For now, he waited to see how she would react. Meanwhile, Shirou was wandering around the woods near Konoha, not knowing where he was. All he knew was he was in his house one moment and in some woods the next. Nothing seemed right, and on top of that, there was a strange brand on his hand. "What the heck is this..." he muttered aloud to himself as he let out a sigh. One thing was for sure though, his magical circuits seemed to be a lot more active and potent now. He could feel the mana flowing through him, but for now...he was just trying to figure out where he was.

There goes the bat, once again after Mr. J," Harley grumbled, hanging upside from the ceiling in an abandoned warehouse tightly wrapped in a nylon rope. She had helped the ungrateful joker escape yet again, only to find herself tied up tightly by Batgirl. "No good, I just can't get off... Wonder if she is into bondage to be so good with ropes? Well, guess I'll just have to wait for Mr. J to come back and rescue me. Hope he doesn't forget about me... again." But after a day and a couple of nights, it wasn't Mr. J who showed up but Riddler's henchmen. Of course they weren't there to rescue her; their plans demanded precision, and Harley was a nuisance. The buffoon bodysuit girl was immediately released and told to leave in a rather rude way. Harley was so mad for being forgotten that she kicked the man and somersaulted out the window eager for revenge on Mr. J. He couldn't have been caught, not after she sacrificed for him to escape, and now he should be waiting for her to return like a lapdog... but not this time. Leaving her like that had made the blonde's girl boil beyond limits, but just as she was about to leave the building, she turned back and saw the Riddler himself arriving. A sudden thought crossed her mind. What if she... Uhm Mr. J would never forgive her, but who cared about that clown right now? It was time to broaden her horizons. Suddenly, the lights went out, and a curtain of gas invaded the insides of the building. Loud hits were heard together with shouts and moans, followed by silence. Then, a shadowy silhouette approached. "You really should get better henchmen sweet," Harley's mocking voice echoed in the darkness as she swayed her way towards the Riddler, gun in hand. Dropping the pistol at his feet, she leaned on him. "You would be better with me instead of these goons, don't you think?" She took out a knife and played with it. "What happens, darling? Bat got your tongue or don't you like clowns? Come on, loosen up a bit." Waving the knife around, she placed it in her neck. "Oh boy, you must have had a very unhappy childhood... but it is not a child what I'm looking for, but a Maaan." Her knife moved to her own body, slowly stripping off her skintight top. "Is this better?" She asked provocatively while only wearing her skintight pants and mask.

Another day, another dollar, to use the terms the plebeians were so fond of. The Riddler had only escaped custody relatively recently, but that last setback wasn't enough to make him want to slow down for a single second. Already he'd planned for his comeback, his next challenge that would truly stump the Bat, and all his little batlings to boot. All he needed were some resources to work with. He'd arrived on the scene soon after most of his new goons, dressed in his usual sharp green jacket, purple shirt, tie and trousers, dark leather shoes moved quietly along the ground, while his gloved right hand clutched tight at his question mark-shaped golden cane. He was expecting another simple task, but ultimately Eddie was going to get something far greater. What he certainly hadn't expected was the Joker's 'squeeze' (a term he used more ironically than anything else, because damn if that clown didn't realise what a fine piece of crazy candy he had on his arm) to come waltzing his way, having torn through his guys without a hint of issue. He watched her closely, tried not to make his worry obvious once she cut his tie open with only a modest amount of difficulty. And then, much to his shock, she rather casually cut open the front of her skintight jester getup and unveiled her perky bosom to him. "You certainly are an odd one, Quinn..." Sharp, hawklike eyes examined the area. No other clowns in the area, no obvious or hidden traps that his keen mind could pick up on. Which begged the question... why was Harley hitting on him? Riddler took a step forward, setting his staff against his car, and gave both of her breasts a firm squeeze. "But... I've never been one to disappoint a lady." Even if that one was a bit hard to believe. He supposed he could take the time out to have some fun with the crazy broad. If nothing else it was better than trying to spurn her advances, cause lord knew how dangerous she could get then.

It has been two months since Shepherd's death. And while the galaxy mourns in solidarity, it continues to play ignorant to the looming dangers that lay ahead. The Reapers... Though not all mourn. Crime continues to unfold in this large galaxy. Filled with lies, deceit, murder and filth. And no place is there better to find it... Then Omega. When Shepherd died, everyone scattered like the wind. Tali back to her people, Wrex to save his own kind from extinction through the Genophage, Ashley grew in rank within the Systems Alliance and Liara became rather aloof. However, this tale focuses on one man in particular... Garrus could no longer stand the red tape, the corruption and ignorance of C-sec. After Shepherd's fate he... He tried, but as usual he proved a disappointing Turian. Especially to the likes of his father... Or rather, so he thought at least. Feeling he had no other choice but to do things his way, by his rules. Garrus went to the one place where crime was everywhere. Where all you had to do... Was point, then shoot. He became the one thing he despised, the one thing he never thought he'd be. A criminal. But for the right cause. A man with a skill, purpose and the means to make a difference. He became a shadow over Omega. A renegade to most, paragon to others. Regardless of the tales surrounding the mysterious vigilante. He was soon to be known, as their Archangel." "Archangel to base, how's my eye in the sky?" A voice echoed quietly into the air, its source a rather tall figure in blue armor. Armor that showed he was unmistakably once a C-sec officer, further that he could only be a Turian. The Turians correspondence into the secure channel his Communications officer created for their little group was met with silence, however the man on the other end, his 'eye in the sky' didn't need to. Far above the Turians head a small drone appeared, cloaking itself just as quickly as it had shown itself to him. "Good good," he said soberly, "now here's hoping our fresh blood can handle her end of the op." He continued, but there was also noticeable worry in his voice. She was a big girl, she could handle herself and he knew it... But ever since he met her... Helping her with those Mercs. Giving her the protection that Archangel desired to give to every clerk and store owner on Omega... Well... He would lie if it didn't make him feel naturally attached. Even knowing how tough she is, to him she was still that cute, flirty girl who didn't know what she was going to do. How she was ever going to get the Blue suns off her back as a mechanic. But no ordinary mechanic, one with the chops to make a mech, drone, up to par with any corporation and at an efficient price. Helping her wasn't the first time he took the law in his own hands. But it was one of the first times he literally saved a life as Archangel, even more importantly she was one of the first people to make him feel he really can make a difference... The only other women to do that was well... Now dead... With a low groan, echoing with that typical gruff melodic sound his race was known to speak with. The man finished folding his sniper into action. Perched properly in place several floors above the target zone. This was an op that took ball's. Typically they were quieter, taking out all the thugs and taking their cargo for... 'better' use. However today Archangel needed to make a statement. And his little friend down there, her job was to sneak on by and place the explosive charges their Batarian counterpart made on every single arm's crate. Hopefully, things went as planned. Soon, Archangel made eyes on a gunship, swooping onto the dock post haste. Many merc's inside were dropped off, each making their way deeper into the industrial zone. They seemed to have been taking a careful spread, moving their numbers about to scope the area in case of a double cross. Which was wise. However, the people they were buying from were already hastily disposed of by Archangels little killer on the ground. "Ok Eye's in the Sky, do a quick sweep. I have a feeling they are careful enough to think of snipers.... It's kind of cute actually, they already know im the best."As he said so, Garrus pulled back his zoom, scoping the other towering industrial buildings for a sniper's glare. As well as checking the industrial equipment, as most seemed tall enough to create a vantage. "I completed the sweep Archangel, there's three out there. One directly adjacent to you, sixty eight meters to your left, another eighty nine meters to your right. The last is a hundred or so meters in front, but behind the industrial equipment. Might be a hard shot."With a cocky grin under his helmet, Archangel gave out a snicker. "Ha ha, I see them now, Thanks. But try not to be so insulting, I can make any shot and that includes this guy... But best to be on the safe side. Move your drone in on the one a hundred clicks away, I will take out the other two, you go take him out. But only on my signal and Eye, try to be quiet about it . This needs to be synchronized, the second they open up com's we may kiss our friend downstairs a swift good by. She's almost done planting the charges, which means she's still exposed." "Count on me boss! I'll use that new trick she added to the drone."The voice in their communications said, as the drone disappeared once more."Ha... Don't get cocky kid, before she came along you didn't even have a drone.""And look at me now Archangel?! I'm actually useful for a change. Instead of sitting on my ass scrambling frequencies."Garrus was gonna talk back but, he ate his words. As much as he would like to tease the kid, it wouldn't have been in good taste. After all, in his condition he is allowed to take his victories where and when he can find him."I got ya Eye, now focus on the mission."Eye, a shorter way of saying the full thing. Code names were an important part of being in this group, it kept your real identity safe from the very bad people they fucked with. It wasn't the plan at first but, as people called him Archangel and... While it began to stick on him... Well, the idea was a good one. Even if a bit cheesy. And when it came down to it, Archangel was big on giving them their nick names himself. Letting his team earn their own code through hard work, respect and appreciation. In 'Eye's case well, he was a man of little use outside his computers and Omnitool. A cripple, lost his leg's when the leader of the Blood Pack kicked him in the face and stepped on his spine during a shoot out... Poor Eye was just... In the way. A passerby, just trying to do his job. He wanted to help with this war on crime despite the loss of his leg's. And he did just that. Using his skill's to focuss efforts on communications, hacking and logging their collected data. Used to be that he would simply hack into surveilance feed's and now recently, he even has drones to scout out for them. A useful job that earned him the title of Eye in The sky. But regrettably, it was a mouthful. So most of the time, he was just called Eye. Turning to his left, Archangel took a deep breath. Prepping the shot. In his mind's eye, he also planned ahead on his next target. The man now in his sight was an easy kill, it was an even shot straight across. Little obstruction, some wind from industrial fans. The man to his right, well, he was slightly tougher. About a meter lower than his current position and with the nearby turbines, wind would likely sway his bullet 3 or so inches to the left. Closing his eyes for a moment, Archangel began to slowly release his breath. Time froze, and in that split second all his training kicked in."Now!" He called out, as he fired a shot right between the first sniper's eyes. The poor assari flew back against the wall. With quick, military precision Archangel flipped around, unloading his thermal clip and injecting a new one just in time as he veered his sniper exactly seven 3 inches from the right of his target's position. Quickly, he pulled the trigger, the propelling shrapnel veering as expected and right into the Salarian's throat! Now it was up to that little drone, looking forward, Archangel gave a sigh of relief. The drone quickly dispatched the human with a electrical prod, set on a lethal voltage."Wow, Garrus. You never cease to amaze," the man on the other end said, a compliment made that much sweeter by the Eye's Austrian accent. As Eye put his drone back into cloak, Garrus spoke with obvious pride. However, slightly annoyed as well."Ya ya, don't feed my ego so much. A certain Batarian we know would probably want to knock your ass off that chair if he heard it. But, since I like the praise I will forgive you for saying my real name on com's. Remember Eye in The Sky, code names. It... It keeps us all safe. Secure com's is like what you human's call a red hearing, it doesn't always mean secure." "Oh! Ha ha, yes right 'Archangel.' I got it. And uh... I believe we humans call it a red haring,"The man on the other end said. A slight gruff laugh escaped Garrus's lips, "Oh, I see. Red Haring. I'll have to jot that down on my omnitool next chance I get. You humans have strange sayings, however many of them fit in many situations."In all the excitement, Garrus barely realized what was going on below. The Turian quickly panicked as the mercs went from a slow crawl to creating hasty positions. They couldn't have heard his shots, they were properly suppressed and the distance was too great... unless... "Shit, those snipers were on timed communications!"The Turian proclaimed as he folded down his sniper rifle. Snapping it into place on his armor, he quickly pulled out his assault rifle, preparing to make a very bold jump. What do you mean!?"The voice said in coms in a frightened tone. It means they were supposed to send a signal every few minutes!"Choosing to leave it at that, Garrus was certain their Eye in The Sky got the idea. The Turian now sprinting to jump off his balcony. Landing just a few meters below, Garrus narrowly caught his feet onto the industrial equipment. Quickly sprinting down the narrow machinery as his quick way back down. "The op's a bust, get out of there!"Garrus called out in an open comms channel. Hoping beyond hope it got to her in time. Before he knew it, the Blue Suns were firing up on him. The vigilante now in a compromised position with very little cover. However, fortune favored the bold and Garrus didn't lack for bravery. Nor the ignorance it brings! He continued his long sprint down, firing back at his attackers with controlled, well-placed bursts. Quite a few were driven back into cover, but another few weren't so lucky. The Turian shooting down at least three. As he reached a friendly distance from the ground, Garrus stopped running, sliding slightly as he made a quick drop down. Falling at least ten feet right smack dab on top of a squishy little Salarian. "Ill take that," he said, as he ripped the assault rifle right out of his hands. Putting a few holes in him before the guy knew what even happened. With the Salarian's assault rifle, Garrus held one in either hand, seeing as he didn't have very much thermal clip's to spare. He could have sworn there was a movie hero on Earth that did this. Someone named... John Rainbow? Had to be something like that. Regardless, he was in full adrenaline mode. His training and experience culminating together as he pushed on. "Keep that drone out of sight and keep in contact," he said to Eve, "I want you to keep track of their movements and ordnance." Taking cover with both assault rifles, he could see her... Nyria. Safe, sound, already shooting back more than likely. 'At a girl,' he thought as he moved closer to cover. Well, he tried his best but. Turians were never too good at taking cover. The best most can do is stand awkwardly behind tall surfaces. But hey, it did the trick. She was not very far away now. And... Well, it seemed she got a lot of the merchandise well and ready to blow. "Glad to see I didn't get you killed," he yelled out, laughing only to disguise his distress. "I don't know what these guys thought they were getting into. But now they gone and done it.... They trapped themselves here, with us. What do ya say? Ready to fight your way out?

If you had asked Nyriaka Aeterius, or more commonly known as Artemis around Omega, that she would be dodging bullets while planting bombs onto illegal goods, she would have laughed and maybe shut the door in your face. But here she was; dodging bullets while planting bombs onto illegal goods. Strange how the fates might take someone, but perhaps it wasn't so strange, if there was a handsome face to beckon her along the path of now becoming a "righteous" mercenary - as if there was anyone on Omega who could best Archangel. It was pretty ridiculous how easily the turian rebel honestly suckered her into joining him, risking her life directly on the line in the face of the battlefield. And to be honest, Nyriaka hardly regretted it one bit. She had her content fun tinkering with her various drones and mechs back in her shop (which was now conveniently trashed and destroyed by the Blood Pack after she literally spited them in their faces with Garrus), but she probably would have never felt as alive as she did now - rewiring make-shift explosives with a shaky adrenaline-filled laugh under her breath and some of her most precious mechs firing back over her head. Danger! It was something that Nyria had explicitly avoided for so many years while she was on Omega; the utmost reason why she even came to hellhole was the sheer abundance of tech that she could work on to repair and upgrade at a far more lucrative price than what she might have gotten back at the Citadel. Keep her head down, maintain a reputable presence, and don't let anyone bother her. But that had become more and more difficult as the years passed and the residents of Omega began to know her for her claimed "magic touch" when it came to all things techy; the gangs wanted her for their own. Imagine how much of an edge they would have over their rivals! The gunships they could fly! The drones they could unleash onto the other gangs! Suddenly, Artemis became a prize to have; not only for her skill, but also for the fact that she was a female turian. Sure, there were asari around, but female turians? Many a male, not only other turians, wanted a piece of that too. They cornered her from all sides, pushing in, threatening, leering until Nyriaka had no other choice; she needed help. And who else was making more rounds and striking more fear into the gangs' hearts than the one and only Archangel? To be honest, she was surprised herself when the gregarious turian agreed so easily to her request, and even more so when he invited her to join his team. But hell, why not? What did she have to lose? Not much, and with that, she would gain a whole lot of protection and company at a desirable male's eye too. The last few years had been... Admittedly lonely, refuting slimy requests from the knuckle-headed turians and other various males around Omega practically all the time. Yet, they still kept coming, no matter how much she lashed her sarcastic tongue at them. And here, they also still continued to come, just in a different manner. They weren't out for her this time, they were simply out for blood. Nyriaka figured that they hadn't seen her yet, didn't know that she was fully integrated into Garrus' team, and she would rather like to keep it that way. It was when she had just finished wiring together the last explosive, shoving it deep between two crates full of red sand that the female turian could hear the slow and steady shots as it rang out nearby, only to result of gurgled screams and falls of limp bodies onto the ground. That would be no one else besides Archangel. Letting a cheeky smug grin come over her expression in satisfaction of her work well-done, she made her first rookie mistake - standing up from her cover. Almost immediately, a shout came up and several bullets came at where she just was as the engineer quickly ducked down again and winced; an inch higher and they might have just taken off one of her horns. "Artemis to base, Artemis to Archangel, they've spotted my position. All explosives rigged. Headed back-" she started, only to be cut off as her cover was once again peppered with wild shots, forcing Nyriaka to keep on moving - more like crawling undignifiedly to another pile of crates. One of her sentry mechs fell, getting a low hiss from the engineer as she finally pulled the sub-machine gun from the holster on her armor's back; that was one of her best mechs and it just went down like that! Shame. There was no time for her to say anything else on the open-comm, not as she ducked around the cover just long enough to exchange some fire, with the satisfaction of seeing one of the gang members fall under her shots. Now, Nyriaka wouldn't say the operation was a bust yet, seeing as she had fulfilled her side of the bargain, but as she heard Garrus' voice crackle over the open comms line, she couldn't help but hiss again in annoyance. The gang members were advancing ever more closer, and another of her sentry mechs was also down; to replace it, the engineer quickly activated her omni-tool to create an attack drone right in a gaggle of gang members."You wanted to see my goods up close, there's no better view than right down the face of one of my drones," she wryly muttered, a slight smirk on her face as shot after shot was fired from the gun. It was so automatic; fire, empty out the clip, reload with another one. Nyriaka hadn't even noticed that she was nearly half way through her ammo before a familiar and very comforting presence was nearby - Garrus. She had to admit that it was good to see that he hadn't lost any of his wryly wit even in the face of imminent danger and threat, with adrenaline pumping through both of their veins."Jolly great for you to join now, I have them pinned down just fine!"she called back with a half-smile curving onto her expression, activating her omni-tool once more to send out another drone as the last one disintegrated under the concentrated enemy fire,"And honestly, the only one who could ever kill me is just me, mellis! Nearly had my horns burned right off, I'll let you know!" "S'kak! There really seemed no end to the number, and as she glanced down to see the scattered thermal clips around her feet, desperate times simply called for desperate measures."How about... Let's just blast our way out? Leave the big guns to the big girl,"Nyriaka offered with an inappropriate amount of cheer then, sending the other turian a toothy smirk before she holstered the M-9 Tempest and from the other larger holster on her back, quickly activated the M-920 Cain, aimed at the group in front of her, and fired. Oh, had she forgotten to mention that the explosion from the shot would be enough to trigger all of the explosives she had already planted around the area there? Oops. There was scarcely any time for Nyriaka to rush over to where Garrus was before the initial explosion rocked the ground beneath them, and then one by one, the crates exploded. Some were too close for comfort, but all she could do now was huddle next to him, clutching the spent heavy weapon in her hand as they waited for the explosions to finally subside. When it did, she was left with a good ringing in her ears, unsteadily clambering to her feet to peer out over the pile of crates they were behind. Absolute and utter ruin, just like they had wanted from the operation, but perhaps... A little more flamboyant and aggressive than Garrus might have wanted. Still feeling the blood thumping through her veins and the exhilarating high of being so close to a life-or-death situation not quite leaving her yet, the engineer reached out to grasp the other turian's hand with an affectionate squeeze and shake."Well, that might have been more of a boom than a bust. But! Like the humans say, two birds with one stone. Or in this case, two objectives with one shot,"she breathlessly chattered with a bright winning smile, looking around before slowly steadying herself to just get the heck out of there; running away with Garrus and the others sounded awfully romantic and appealing at the moment, considering their only other option was to be caught by this gang's leaders like sitting babes,"You coming, talur?" TURIAN WORDS FROM THIS TURIAN DICTIONARY:

The quasi-sidekick known as Batgirl blinked heavy eyes as she tried to stare at the walls around her. Black edges hovered in her vision, blocking out a good portion of the room around her. Years of training under perhaps the strictest taskmaster alive had left Batgirl more than capable of taking in details with limited information. She could definitely see something on the walls around her, probably torture devices of some kind. She could just make out some possible lights hanging around, or maybe it was all dark? Okay, so that wasn't quite clear. She should stop focusing on things away from her and start trying to piece together the immediate. She was still Batgirl. That sounded almost ludicrous, but when you had a secret identity there was always that possibility. Barbara Gordon and Batgirl were two distinct individuals. One was a high school student at Gotham Prep, learning right alongside a few other "Bat" wards. That one happened to be the daughter of the police commissioner, not to mention a straight "A" student, computer whiz, and halfway decent at martial arts. The girl's other identity just happened to be one that had earned the right to don the cowl and wear the symbol emblazoned on her chest. True, Batgirl's original outfits had looked decidedly amateur, with some stitches showing and a slightly crooked symbol on her teenage chest. But she'd gotten a lot better dressed since then, due in no small part to being officially indoctrinated into the Bat family. Which also made her one hell of a target. Babs had lost count of the number of villains who figured that the girl would be the easiest to kidnap out of the Bat family. Most of them learned the hard way that it probably would've been better to go for Dick or Tim or safer yet, the Butler. But noooo, the villains had to go for the perky teenage girl sidekick. They did so love to tie her up. Batgirl couldn't remember how many times she'd had ropes looped around her breasts. Honestly, it wasn't like she was Power Girl or something. Heck, in Babs line of work, having smaller ones was actually more of a blessing. Okay, yeah, she still had perky teen boobs and, yeah, she wasn't flat: they were noticeable in the suit. But, again: Not Batwoman. Batgirl, and with perfectly modest breasts too. Of course, sometimes the villains would tie ropes around her tight little butt instead or test the limits of her flexibility. This time, Batgirl didn't feel any ropes or anything on her immediate body. So she had that going for her. And again: still Batgirl. They'd left the cowl on her head and she seemed to be in her usual costume. Though she didn't quite remember some of the details of this particular outfit. There seemed to be some kind of zipper around the crotch area that she didn't remember being there before. Maybe that was a new addition that Alfred had added as a joke or something? Or maybe Dick had messed with it? He was known to be the humorous one of their family. It was weird, because Babs couldn't tell if she had her usual underclothing on either. Nobody wore nothing under their tights. Hell, Wayne Enterprises had pretty well started an entire line of underclothes just for superheroes. Babs often preferred the tight boy-shorts herself, and she thought she could feel them but she wasn't sure. So someone probably stripped me, quite possibly put me into an alternate version of my costume, drugged me, which actually came first now that I think about it, aaaand, yep, Batgirl's hand went to her throat, the gloved fingers feeling around,I have a collar around my neck. Seriously, a collar? At least there's no bell this time. Feels really thick so... probably explosives. Wonderful. Batgirl moved, realizing that she'd been laying on some sort of bed? She winced, not wanting to think about that. Her red hair fell around her shoulders as she rose up, and she could still feel a bit of her cape falling about her. It didn't feel quite as long as it should be; no surprise there. In fact, this outfit actually felt about a size or two too small, like someone had found the one she'd started in and squeezed her into it. The colors felt slightly off too, but that could just be the lights. Batgirl knew she needed to figure out where she was and who put her here. She remembered being on patrol, something about a call that required her attention. Was it at the new LexCorp building? It felt like it was. But maybe Batgirl was just projecting or something. All the capes knew that something was up with Lex Luthor but it wasn't like anyone could actually prove anything. She started walking in the room, feeling more steady than she'd figured. What was the game here? And, more importantly, how could she get out before one of the Bat family followed a tracer and tried to "save" her...

Alexander "Lex" Luthor hated Superman with an intensity that seemed all consuming at times. The hatred had become an obsession; no longer was it about killing the so-called Man of Steel, it was about hurting and humiliating him. Of course over time, that hatred had expanded. Now, he hated all costumed heroes. It wasn't just because they often got in the way of his actions against Superman, but also because they had taken their inspiration from the Kryptonian hero. They were now a part of the problem, working their way into his head and becoming another distraction that kept him from helping mankind. And like Superman, it wouldn't be enough to kill them all; that would only inspire more. Instead, Lex needed to break them, humiliate them, bring them low so that even the average person would look down upon them... And without their shadow to obscure his own brilliance, Alex knew that he would be seen as the rightful hero and savior that mankind needed and craved. He had plans, of course, with partial successes and varying degrees of defeat, but he learned from each one and had countless more just waiting to be tried. Lex was patient, brilliant, and richer than nearly anyone else in the world. He would find the answer he needed. A new idea had occurred to him recently, touring a subsidiary of Lexcorp he had been shown some promising new developments when it came to improving mental health. One in particular stood out, a device that would make a person's pleasurable and enjoyable experience more intense as a way to fight short term depression. The fools didn't know what they had though and so he had fired them all, reminded them of the confidentiality contracts they had signed, and confiscated every prototype and note they had on the project before burying the entire program behind so much red tape and data that it would be near impossible for someone to track down. It had been inspirational too him, a way to humiliate all the so-called hero types by striking out at relatively few of them. With a few tweaks to the technology he had been able to make the pleasures it provided almost addictive while it would slowly rewire a person's brain until the effect would continue without the tech. Next had come testing, local prostitutes had worked well and because of his own tastes Alex worked the technology into a heavy collar... BDSM being a favorite little indulgence of his. It had worked like a charm, just as he suspected and that meant all he needed was his first subject. As enjoyable as it would be to start with Wonder Woman or Powergirl he knew that it was too risky to start with a super-powered subject, patience would pay out. Using the same technology that Batman worked into his police scanning equipment Luthor had found a way to send a single untraceable call for help right to any member of the Batcrew. Batgirl had been his target of course and after luring her to his new Gotham tower he had Mercy ambush and drug the girl. From there it had been simple enough to strip her, making sure to photograph her face and get fingerprints, and then dress her into a latex fetish costume that resembled her own. Then, waiting for about ten minutes, the time he had calculated it would take for her to wake up, Lex entered the room, dressed in his very best of course. "Batgirl, so lovely to have you join me tonight." He greeted her, a sneer marring his features slightly.

Sakura Haruno let out a growl of annoyance as she struggled to hook the straps behind her back together. Ever since her bust had fully developed - and rather unexpectedly, to boot - she always had trouble putting her bras on. There was the subtle but satisfying feeling of the fabric linking together, and her breasts were contained at last. Cha! No time for celebrating small victories, however, as she had to hurry up and finish getting dressed! Lady Tsunade had requested her presence today, and that - more likely than not - meant that the Hokage would be assigning her to a mission. And Sakura couldn't help but feel a tad of excitement, as she slipped the black gloves onto her hands. It had been a while since she had ventured out of the Hidden Leaf Village. Red top came next, followed by skirt, socks, and boots. And a mission, no matter how boring its objective, would be a welcome change of pace. She finished up by adjusting her forehead protector against her forehead, a few tufts of her pink hair popping in front of it which she quickly smoothed down. Looking towards the mirror, she gave herself a small smile. Ready to go! With that, she headed out of her apartment and towards the Academy, where Lady Tsunade's office resided. "Um, h-hello, Sakura-chan..." Sakura slowed her walking at the familiar sounding voice, turning her head to the side. Walking beside her was Hinata Hyuga, her head downtrodden and a few strands of dark blue hair brushing against her face. She was dressed in her usual purple-and-ivory jacket and jeans, which were less than capable of hiding the generous womanly curves that she had acquired with time. Sakura had never really interacted that much with the shy member of Team 8, admittedly, but she thought that she was a kind, sweet girl who was more than capable of defending herself and others if necessary. If only the same could be said about her attempts at gaining Naruto's affections... "Hmm? Hello, Hinata," Sakura said with a smile, which caused the blue-haired girl to blush for a moment. However, she slowly looked up to meet the medical-nin's gaze with her milky white eyes (a result of her possession of the Byakugan), returning the expression - if a bit reluctantly. "Going to see Tsunade-Sama?" Hinata asked, keeping pace with the cherry-blossom haired girl. "She wanted to speak with me as well..." she added softly. That got an eyebrow raise out of Sakura. Lady Tsunade had requested both her and Hinata to meet with her? Were they going to be assigned to the same mission, or was this simply a coincidence? "Well, I guess since we both seem to be heading to the same place, would you mind walking with me?" Sakura offered, that smile returning to her face. "Um, sure," the chunin murmured, her cheeks tinting once again. And so they resumed their walk towards Tsunade's office in earnest, with Sakura leading the charge and Hinata quietly following along, at a bit of a slower pace... If Lady Tsunade was indeed going to assign them to the same mission, Sakura thought, it could certainly be interesting...

Tsunade Senju had been watching out of the large window at the back of her office. Adjusting her top a few times as her massive breasts bounced around on her. "I think they got bigger again," she said, turning to her assistant, Shizune. "What do you think?" Shizune gave her a scolding look. "Lady Tsunade! This is not the time to be worrying about that. The shinobi will be here any minute to receive their mission!" She scolded the Hokage before Tsunade pouted out her lip and simply sat down at her desk. Watching the door till the sound of a knock could be heard at the door. "Enter." She said, and if Sakura and Hinata had arrived on time, they would have bare witness to the large two stall doors opening up for them. The Hokage looked to them, and flashed a smile. "So, I see you two managed to get out of bed okay on this lovely sunny day," she said, "I bet it wasn't easy, oh and Sakura... you look like you've had some growing this morning." She flashed a smile to her before Shizune gave her a scolding look. Clearing her throat, Tsunade holds out the mission scroll. "Here, you three have been assigned to guard a small town in the Land of Valleys while the workers tunnel through a mountain side to open a trade route. The city has been plagued with bandit raids and a few bits of a rather nasty sickness here and there, so I want the three of you to take care of it." With that declaration, Shuri made her way in, the girl had long black hair, and smooth pale white skin, and carried herself elegantly, dressed in a short Kimono bound at the waist by a rather large red rope. Her pale green eyes drifted about the room, looking at her would-be companions on her first mission since arriving in the Leaf Village. "Hello, I am Shuri Ramino, heiress to the Ramino family," she said with a bow. "Pleasure to meet the two of you, and your pairs of lovely fun bags." Yes, Shuri just said 'fun bags' in a way a dirty old man might have, but the look Shizune shot her didn't affect her any. "Now then, Lady Tsunade, you may continue to explain the mission if you so desire." The girl had an obvious attitude, a sort of snarkiness to her, she was shrewd and rude it seemed.

Blackwood Mountains, there was no doubt in Sam's mind that this place would haunt every nightmare. A tragedy she desperately tried to prevent. The man she'd come to coven loosing both his sisters on a dark night similar to the one they were experiencing tonight. Not only that, but the blizzard was strangely eerie because it was reminiscent of the same one that had taken hand in spiriting away Beth and Hannah. Sitting by the side of the worldpool tub, clearly installed into the mansion-esk lodge as a comfort to up the sale price. Sam leaned over the tub and admired the shiny white procaline. Going to grasp the handle of what she'd hope to be hot water, the voice of the same man she'd been thinking about constantly on the hike up to the lodge. Voice echoing throughout the moonlit house. The nickname he'd playfully bestowed unto her rang through the air. Music to the young blonde's ears. There was always this anticipation that built up and hit like a overwhelming blindsiding tsuname the second she heard her name roll off his lips. "Whaaaaa?" Sammy, that's what he called her. She remembered when they first met, how he'd tried countless times to give her a nickname that would stick...then...Sammy. It sounded right when he said it, nobody else, she didn't feel comfortable with anybody else calling her Sammy. "You wanna help me get this fire going?" Last time she'd drank in the sight of him was when he was huddled under the fireplace, fiddling with the gas. "Uuuuh...well...I was just...getting into the bath." She didn't think much of her answer, she was just being honest. However, when he came back with a cute little 'oh'...and then a pause...she couldn't help but blush lightly, peering out the bathroom door in the direction of his voice. "Well do you need any help with that?" Being a smartass wasn't something unusual for him, but what Sam said next would probably throw him off his pacing. Teasingly she chuckled under her breath, grinning lightly as she responded proudly with. "I'd say yes, but...there's no hot water and I don't think either of us nor anyone else in the house wants to be shoulder deep in ice water." Checking the water, aaaaand...the prediction was correct as she settled down on the marbel surrounding the tub only for feel the bonechilling water that was as cold as a river in December...drench the young 20 year old's right hand. Turing off the water with a sigh and walked out of the bathroom, thinking about roaming around and wondering if she'd finally silenced Josh with that little suggestive comment.

Josh was in the middle of trying to settle the last pieces of his revenge plan when Sam called out to him. He wasn't sure what it was about her, but whenever he was around her...he felt calm and at ease. All the voices left him, all that he could hear was her, and it was comforting. He was wondering if there was some way he could exclude Sam from all this he had planned or not. When he teased her, he expected her to call his bullshit...but her response actually surprised him. Did she really have feelings for him? Or was she just messing with him, like they had done with his sisters...he wanted to know. His eyes locked on Sam's figure when she walked out of the bathroom and he gave her his trademarked grin. "We need to turn the furnace on in the basement to get the hot water going," Josh said, offering her his arm. "Tell you what....you come with me to turn it on, and then, maybe, I'll consider your invitation to join you in the tub." He winked playfully at her, acting like her comment wasn't a big deal, but inside, his heart was pounding.

Gotham A city in only description, but not in identity. Most people would call it a hell, a ses-pit, a breeding ground for crime, while others were forced to call it home. The occupants only considered it one thing, a home. There were though, two gleams of light in the shadows of the city. Well technically one, but very few new or understood the implication of that knowledge. Those two lights were Bruce Wayne and the knight in the shadows, Batman. A man who worked in the light of the cameras and sun to better the city for the average citizen, while the other worked in the shadows to protect the weak. A recent development had plagued the city of Gotham for many years, but now it had lifted like the early morning fog in the afternoon. The Joker, a madman bent on tormenting and amusing himself with the antics he thought of on a weekly basis against the Batman. To torture, to hear the citizens scream, and most of all to enjoy his psychopathic games of madness with his best friend in the world, the Batman. This clown of crime had suddenly disappeared from gotham leaving a distraught and confused Harley Quinn, the joker to the Jokers King. It had been recently that Harley had been found and apprehended by police. Was she terrifying people? Arming bombs? Letting loose her hyenas on citizens?....no. She was drunkly spray painting the words, "Where are you sugar?" across the statues guarding the Library of Gotham Congress. "What am I going to do with you Harley?" Gordon asked with a deep sigh. Looking across his desk at the chained up girl. Gordon was the head of the Gotham police force, though most of their job was cleaning up after Batman's antics. His mustache twitched as he took a sip from his white mug, long since turned muddy with use. "You weren't always like this, you know." *Harley* I yank roughly on the handcuffs shackling me to the chair, glaring angrily towards Gordon. The metal digs into my wrists, peeling a layer of skin from me as I struggle. The pain transports me to another time - another place. I imagine being locked up, cuffed to a wheelchair which Puddin' had retrofitted with rollercoaster wheels. It was incredible, I tell you... Like something straight out of the mind of a genius. I remember the clickity clack of the chain pulling me up the hill, the rush of looking onwards towards the unfinished rollercoaster. The thrill of dropping down the hill, riding through the loop, flying upwards....off the rails....and into a wonderfully deadly slumber dedicated to my Mr. J.... "Oooh....Mr J....where are you pudding...." I sigh, the illusion fading as I return back to the present. I'm sure to Gordon, I must seem delusional - or worse. I don't care though. No, there's only one man I care about what he thinks....and he's gone! GONE! Gone without a trace...a phone call....or even a booby trap. I don't have the faintest on where he could possibly have gone. *2 hours later* The air atop the police station was bitter cold. Gordon's hair and tan trench coat blowing with the wind. The steam from his foam cup dissipating against the roar of the wind, the smoke only slightly illuminated by the light of the bat signal. "I...hhh...hate winter", he muttered, as he reached into his pocket for a lighter. "Thought you quite" replied a voice from the shadows. An almost inaudible click, then the signal illuminating the sky disappeared, once again shrouding the roof in darkness. Gordon shrugged, his hand returning from his pocket empty. "I'm trying, but old habits die hard", looking up at the shadow. "You should know that better than most!" Apparently that reply didn't warrant an answer, as an awkward silence passed between the two. It was Gordon shivering from the cold who decided to break that silence. "You took longer than usual" his almost frozen mustache twitching in irritation. "Get stuck in traffic?" The form the comment was meant for silently shifted into view. Tall, dark, with a willowing cape and an attitude for action, even violence. "I've got a new....complication....its...taking more of my time" he growled in reply. "Make that two" Gordon wordlessly replied with a sigh. "I've got that favor from you to turn in" The glare could be seen from the shadows even with in the dim light. "I want you to take Harley Quinn in. I think you might be able to fix her, since the Joker is no longer in the picture." *meanwhile, back downstairs*

Harley was lost in one of her fantasies again, thinking about when she first met her Mistah J, how scared she had been of him. Now she knew who he really was, she prided on being the only one that did. Her puddin' meant the world to her and his happiness was all that really mattered to her. She could remember him flirting with her, telling her he understood her pain, understood how it felt to be cast out. She'd fallen for her puddin' quickly. She talked aloud now, as if he were here. Tears rolled down her pretty cheeks, the white clown paint mingling and leaving white puddles on the floor. "Mistah J why'd you leave me? I know you'll be back for me," she murmured before bursting into hysterical laughter. "It's a test right Mistah J? You want to see how much trouble I can cause?" She pulled against the handcuffs and screamed out in anger and frustration. She kicked over the table in front of her and laughed as the papers came down around her. "OH JIM!" she shouted before laughing her head off. Outside the room, other officers just shook their heads. "Why doesn't he just send the crazy bitch to Arkham again?" one of them asked as she continued to laugh and talk to herself.

The bright star hung in the sky like a shining beacon, an ominous omen that struck hard like a dagger right into Daenerys Targaryeneach's heart each time she looked up at it. It seemed unnatural as its light competed with the silvery rays of the moon...one night just appearing as if divine forces decided it was meant to be there, meant to be a part of nature, circling the sky and providing its light. A shiver ran down her spine and her body shuddered. She glanced over her shoulder, her violet eyes taking in Daario, his body seemingly worn. He'd been acting strange ever since the star had arrived. All the men had. It hadn't set well. Dany walked over to the balcony overlooking Meereen. The city had gone quiet. Ironic that not just a few weeks ago, this stillness would have filled her heart with joy, with peace. But now it filled her heart with dread, with fear. Just then, there was a light tap on the door. Dany turned her head toward the soft sound. She smiled at Daario before speaking out loud. "Please enter," Dany said, turning to face Daario. She was almost certain that Missandei would be on the other side of the heavy wooden door. But no matter, the city had gone quiet, still, that unnatural light bringing a strange calm over Meereen and its people. "Khaleesi,"Missandeibegan, her dark eyes averted. Dany reached out and gently brushed her confidante's arm. She knew her friend was still adjusting to her newfound freedom. The Astaporian beauty smiled then and turned her eyes toward Dany. "The Unsullied, Khaleesi." Her face was worried. "The illness is spreading." Dany's eyes widened and she turned toward Daario. They needed to form small council. Things were going from bad to worse. Rumors had already been spreading that several had been reported ill within the city. Within days, some of her Unsullied had also reported to have contracted a strange illness. There didn't seem to be an underlying cause and it was spreading too rapidly. Action needed to be taken. "How badly?" Dany asked. Missandei paused, her eyes moving from Dany to Daario. "All," she said softly. Dany looked to Daario, her steps fast as she headed toward the door. "We meet with Jorah, Tyrion and Varys," she said plainly. "This must be stopped." Missandei watched Dany, worry etched on her face. She was terrified. So many were falling ill, unable to function as fever gripped their bodies. But she noticed one odd thing...the only ones who were falling ill were men. The room was dark and for days Tommen had not been himself. Already chaos was clawing its way through Kings Landing, tearing the entire city apart. Cersei was furious that her youngest brother had disappeared and no one knew the whereabouts of the Master of Whispers. Things were only getting worse, the paranoia of the entire Lannister family growing and then that strange star suddenly appeared. Holy men tried to fear monger the good people of Westeros, but she knew they were merely using it as an opportunity to seize control over the weak minds of the people. Oh my poor Tommen! Burning up with fever while the entire city fell into ruin! Margaery had to hide his malady, pretend that everything was as it should be. It would be difficult fooling his bitch mother. The woman had eyes everywhere and her overprotective nature for her children bordered on frightening. She had to admit the cunt was cunning, but she wouldn't let her interfere so long as she was queen, so long as there was breath in Tommen's body. Margaery's bare body stooped over Tommen as he lay back on their plush bed, her cunt gripping his hardened cock deep within her wet folds. She leaned forward, her hands clutching his shoulders as she bit down on her lower lip and stifled the groan that rumbled in her throat. Up and down...up and down, her body slid along his shaft, slippery and slick. The wet slurping sounds of flesh on flesh echoed against the stone walls. "Tommen...Tommen..." Margaery panted, her hips moving faster. If only he'd move! Those damned fevers! Fever squeezed at her heart like a vice. This just wasn't the Tommen the Kings knew. ~~~ Sansa stared out her tiny window at the unnatural star. When had it arrived? She couldn't remember. Perhaps it had been a week, maybe two, ago when it had decided to shine down upon the lands. She heard the door open behind her and knew who it was that was checking in on her. Only one man repeatedly came to her side Petyr Baelish. "Lord Baelish," Sansa said without turning around, her eyes still fixed upon the star. "Have you come to check on me as always?" she asked. "You'll find I'm still safely hidden from Lannister eyes." Letting out a soft sigh, she turned around, a hand moving to twist a stray lock of red. She hated her solitary life...always running, always hiding. She'd forgotten what it was like to be happy. "Hidden from all eyes," she added, her tone laced with bite. "I trust you've fared well." Feeling bitter, her gaze turned cold before it softened, her eyes finally averting and fixing upon the floor. "I...I'm sorry. I should not have said that.

The bright star hovering in the atmosphere of the world of Westeros and Essos was the capital ship of the Amanto. They were a conglomeration of different alien races that had been exiled from the Alliance of Free Races that ruled most of the known galaxy. The Amanto were the races that refused to bow to the more liberal laws of the new government. They believed they had the right to enslave and own who they pleased, to commit crimes and peddle illegal drugs. Now, they were on their own, but they planned to colonize the unexplored parts of the galaxy, and that is how their mothership ended up above Westeros, ahead of the main fleet. They were emitting a powerful virus, meant to wipe out all life on the planet so they could colonize it, but for some reason, it wasn't working. Jabba the Hutt, the head of the Amanto and previous crime lord gazed down on the world, anger clear in his feline eyes. His slug body on the bridge of the ship, his snake-like tongue hanging from his gaping mouth and dripping drool onto his slimy fat rolls. He bellowed out an order and a half human, half wolf creature emerged from behind a door. His grey fur shimmered slightly in the light as the wolf was given his orders, to go down to the planet and figure out what was going on. He was put into an escape pod and shot down to the planet, and would appear like a shooting star. Darrio looked towards Dany with a forced smile. He was feeling the strain of whatever sickness was infecting his body. It was a struggle just to remain standing, but he bore it all for his Queen. "My Queen....might I have some time with you on my own?" He asked her with a small chuckle. He needed to be alone with her, he wasn't sure how much longer he was doing to be alive, he could feel his body fading...he wanted to spend his last hours with her, in peace and with as much passion for the beautiful woman as he could muster. "I know you are busy...but could we meet in your room?" He asked her before giving her a small bow and walking away towards her room. Jorah was feeling slightly better than Darrio, but the fever still racked his body. He managed to meet with Missandei before he saw Dany. "Ah, my Lady...how are you doing today? Is the Queen doing alright?" He asked her, his voice breathless as he forced a smile, hoping she wouldn't see how much he was suffering from the unknown illness. Little did Margaery know, but Tommen had already passed on, the only thing keeping his cock hard was the virus in his system. Now, it began to change him. Already, his skin was starting to rot faster than it should have. His eyes fluttered open, they seemed to be glowing yellow. He growled, he sounded like a beast. He wrapped his arms around her waists and his hands gave her firm rear a hard spank. His slowly rotting hand groping at her rear. He began to move his hips, his massive cock slamming deep into her, pushing past her cervix and into her womb as he let out a growl and a moan. His lips moved up to her own, his tongue lashing against her lips, pushing their way into her mouth as he plowed her like a bitch in heat. Baelish had seen what was going on to the world, and he knew what needed to be done. He had put the Eyrie on lockdown and executed anyone with symptoms. He was heartless, but he would do what he needed to do, to protect himself, and Sansa. He looked to the girl and gently stroked her cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "Just be thankful, Sansa...thankful you don't have to see what is going on with the world right now." His voice was heavy and distraught, he had killed so many...he wasn't sure how they would get by now, but he would do whatever it took... He slowly leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead. "We can never leave the Eyrie, Sansa...the world, is dying. We might be able to survive if we stay here." He explained to her, needing her to understand just how far the world had fallen.

Miiahad been cold that night, the first night in this house, the first night she met her, her 'Darling'. She wasn't called Darling of course, Miss. Smith said her name was Ami, but Miia didn't care, she was her Darling. She took her in despite the mix up and had done her best to make the Lamia, normally a looked down upon race by humans, feel welcome. Being part snake, Miia had found the night very cold, Japan had been a lot cooler than expected. She'd taken up residence in Darlings spare room and was content for a while. But it soon turned out to be far too cold, the cool night air getting to the reptile. She needed a source of warmth, something to curl around to help her sleep and wake energized. So naturally, she broke into Darling's room! It seemed logical at the time anyway and Miia was sure her Darling wouldn't mind. So here she was, it was morning and the Lamia lay, coiled around the female form of Darling, a content smile on her face. Darling was warm and so soft, Miia could have spent the rest of the day like this. Waking up, she looked to Darling, a content smile on her face as her big golden eyes opened. "Darling.." She sleepily chimed, sounding just so happy right now, squeezing Darling a little more with her coils.

Ami wakes up feeling her body being constricted in Mia's boa-like constriction. The dark haired, yet surprisingly plain looking Japanese woman, had one thing that made her unique among monster care takers. In that... "MIIIA!!!" She shouts as she grabs and squeezes herself free of Mia's constriction. Then, like always, she manages to knot Mia's tail all up in a different style today - a pretzel fashion. If that didn't teach her a lesson in time nothing will. "You know better than that," Ami says, swatting the Lamia on the butt while she was in the compromising predicament. "Now then straighten yourself out, and I will get to work on breakfast. It's a wonder I don't just change the light in your room to a sunlamp, and your bed to a rock... surely then..." Sighing, she wasn't angry, but she did have a temper and it flared when her rules weren't abided by. It didn't help that Mia gave into her Monster born instincts so easily. "Just be careful okay," Ami says, "It wasn't too tight today, but any tighter and you may have snapped me in half.

There were only short, very brief moments of consciousness. Every waking second filled with nothing but immense burning pain. Mr. Sinister knew the dangers of taking in a mutant as powerful as Rouge, and had made the necessary precautions in order to contain her. It wasn't complex, the plan actually very simple, keep her sedated and on round-the-clock observation. Any flinch, twitch or uneven breath was taken into account, as if she were to completely snap out of her drug-induced coma... there would be a few new holes in the genius mutant's lab. There was no possible way he could resist the allure of the southern belle's abilities though. Deadly, powerful... limitless potential, and all obtained with a single touch. Numerous injections had been given, all of which needing to be applied with a powerful claw-like arm and enhanced needle to compensate for her heightened durability. Sticking a syringe into someone who could resist the impact of a bullet proved difficult, but certainly not impossible. They had managed to get an IV in her, coursing the sedatives through her system, and that had been a bit of a chore. The hospital gown hung loosely from her frame, obviously put on in a rush. Nobody wanted to risk exposure to her skin for a prolonged period. This of course meant it looked like a blind one-armed monkey had put it on. The laces along the back tied off in the wrong positions, the collar sideways and causing the cheap cardboard-like fabric to pull awkwardly off in the wrong direction and bunch up along her left flank. Had she been awake long enough to notice... she wouldn't have been too pleased about it. Mmmph. The groan was soft, eyes opening slowly and revealing the emerald irises beneath. The pounding in her skull was intense, set to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Everything was blurry, sounds came in as though she were underwater, distant and subdued. The glass tube she had been locked inside was tilted upward, numerous harnesses holding her in place and keeping her secure. Son of a.. It was no sooner the words were spoken that she noticed something wasn't quite right. Everything below the neck down was numb, despite her desperate efforts to move her arms or legs, absolutely nothing happened. Ah, look who has decided to join us. The southern belle furrowed her brow as she took in the sight of the other man that had been captured. Something about him seemed familiar... but she was unable to place it in her memory. Deadpool was only known through reputation as far as she went, and of course the files that were kept on him beneath the school. A few of her teammates had made it clear that they were not a fan, but when one of them was Logan it was hard to tell if it could be taken with more than a grain of salt...as there were a lot of people he didn't care for in this world. It was only after she accepted that he was an unknown that her gaze pulled back to Nathaniel Essex. The two of them shared a not so pleasant history, a lot of it steeped in some bad decisions that a rather charismatic Cajun had made. I wanted you to be awake for this, as I think you will find it...quite intriguing. Bending down, he moved to release the seal on her container. The pressure released and hissed out into the room. Rogue was still trying to move, free herself somehow, but it was all for naught. The only thing she could do was glare, and if looks could kill. As soon as the lid was lifted, a young man was waved over. He couldn't have been more than 25. Ruffled blonde hair, thick glasses, and a tall wiry frame - he looked to be incredibly nervous. "Go on, Henry," Sinister said. "We need to see if we have made any progress." The kid stammered, looking from Mr. Sinister over to the southern belle and back. It was obvious he wanted to protest, but was too terrified to actually do it. Instead, he took a deep gulp, the sound audible in the relatively quiet underground lab, and raised his hand up and outstretched his arm. "N-no...don't..." Rogue could see where his hand was going, fingertips headed for the bare skin beneath the sleeve of her hospital gown. All she could do was flinch, close her eyes, and prepare for the horrible sensation that overwhelmed her whenever someone touched her. The memories, the emotions...it was never a walk in the park. Although it was probably worse to be on the other end of it. Due to the paralytic she couldn't actually sense the contact, but it had happened. Fingertips pressed down, followed by his palm, and nothing...no pain. Mr. Sinister could only smile in amusement. A few moments passed before Rogue hesitantly opened her eyes, Sage and Warpath looking on in silent shock at what they were seeing. Neither of them were keen on saying anything anyway, afraid to pull any attention as it had lead to nothing but excruciating pain when they had. What did you do? There was anger, confusion, and a hint of excitement behind that southern voice. Eyes wide and searching for some kind of answer on either of the men's faces. Of course Mr. Sinister was pleased, but it wasn't a breakthrough for his research. Suppressing her mutant gene had been done before, but it was at least a step in the right direction. Very good. Secure her and make sure those paralytics don't wear off. I think we've done enough work for today. Just like that he brushed her off, not offering her anything but a sidelong glance of amusement. Oh, she wanted to hit him. Send him flying across the room and pound on him until she grew too exhausted to beat on him anymore. Still, her body wouldn't move, only having control of her head and neck. That certainly wasn't enough to bust her loose. With that the lab started to empty, small mumblings from the workers about the day's work, machines shutting down while others sputtered to life. There were cameras everywhere though, so just because the room was empty, didn't mean they were alone in the slightest.

Why do you do this to me? Seriously, look at her... and you know what goes on here at Bluemoon. But Hotdogs aren't supposed to go there. Wade awoke with a yawn, it wasn't beneath him to wake up in weird and at times compromising places or positions. The sealed tube wasn't exactly new and the hospital gown brought back a swell of emotions that were quickly quelled beneath a tirade of self-deprecating sarcasm: "That is the last time I let you take me out." His words were directed at no one in particular. Fuck you. His amplified healing factor was making short work of the sedative cocktail that coursed through his veins, several saline IVs were attached to his arms and legs along with a dialysis machine that seemed to be replacing his blood with additional tranquilizing additives. "My whole body is like The Stranger." The dialysis machine was taxed to its limit as his body continually pumped out a steady stream of blood to replace what was being taken out. Given the nature of Wade's abilities, tranquilizing him with the lethal equivalent of what's given to those being executed was the only way to keep him here along with the additional restraints that bound him in place. A breeze chilled him and Wade shivered beneath the hospital gown: "Oh, it's like The Dead Stranger." A sigh escapes through keloid-scarred lips as he fights against the restraints, moving enough to see the others also bound to his same fate. "Oh hey." In many ways he was happy to see that he wasn't the only one here, it meant he could talk to someone who wasn't himself. Wade tilts his head to the side, using a few reflective surfaces to his advantage, it reminded him of the time he spent an entire hour trying to see a breast through the static of Pay Per View, which he admitted to himself was probably last week. It was a good boob. "So uh hey." His words directed at Rogue or really the round distorted reversed image of her rear: "Come here often?" That's not going to work... You miss all the chances you never take, bro.

Kushina was up earlier than usual. And for her, that was pretty early. She was up long before the sun would rise. Her reason? The small plastic stick resting on the counter beside where she stood, wearing nothing but her pajamas, which was a short-sleeved blue silk top that ended midway down her thighs. Her feet were bare against the cold tiled floor, toes curling in anticipation as she stared at the small object on the counter. It was small, indeed, but it was a very powerful thing. It had been on Kushina's mind the past few days, putting the normally fearless woman on edge. Even now, as she stared at the little thing, her heart was pounding heavily in her chest and her stomach was twisting with anxiety. Now, you may be wondering what could put the brave Red Hot-Blooded Habanero in such a state of disarray. Well, it was a pregnancy test. She had been feeling weird the past few days, and after discussing it with Mikoto Uchiha, it was suggested that she may be pregnant. Which came as a total shock to Kushina. She couldn't have a kid! Not right now! There was simply too much going on, what with the news of this mysterious figure going around trying to kill off the tailed beasts. Besides, she just wasn't ready to be a mother. She didn't know if she would ever be ready for such a role. At the same time, though, what if she were pregnant? Minato would be such a wonderful dad, that much she knew already. But he had never really talked about starting a family. It was a discussion they were too busy to have. Still, if she were pregnant, what would they do? Sighing under her breath, Kushina pinched her eyes closed and took a shaky breath to try and prepare herself for the results. As she did this, she reached over and grabbed the test, figuring it would be ready by now. The question was, was she ready for the results? The answer was no, but she had to face it anyways. So, mustering all the courage she could manage, she peeked open and glanced down at the test, only to let out the biggest sigh of her life. It was negative. Thank Kami! She groaned out loud, relief calming her edgy nerves and causing her to slouch forward in a dramatic fashion. No babies today! Hah! Happily, she dropped the test into the trash near the toilet and turned to leave the bathroom, a refreshed glow about her as if the weight of the world had just been taken from her shoulders. There was a spring to her step, her deep blue eyes sparkling happily as she stepped into the bedroom and smiled giddily at the sight of Minato beneath the covers. She was usually reluctant to wake him. As the Hokage, he didn't get a lot of rest. They needed to head out in a few hours though, and there was no way she could get back to sleep, so Rise and shine~! Playfully, Kushina crawled into bed with the man, smiling as she laid atop the covers and squirmed up against his frame in an attempt to wake him. Assuming he wasn't already awake.

*bump* That was the first thing he felt, not aware what it was he slowly began to crack open his eyes. 'Rise and shine~' called the familiar voice as his eyes opened catching the pale face of his wife, her long, seriously long, red hair draping around her face as she dropped down next to him and began snuggling, wriggling next to him as he shook his head in an attempt to calibrate himself and awaken properly. "What're you..." he began asking before deciding against finishing the sentence. He loosened up, he's gotten a little bit stiff from her waking him so suddenly, he relaxed back down in the pillow as he lifted both his arms out from under the covers. One hand slipped behind his own head, the mess of yellow hair that sat comfortably atop his head, the second draped around Kushina's shoulders as he held her to his naked torso. He slept, for the most part, naked. No shirt to cover his reasonably toned upper body, and only a pair of shorts to cover his crotch. They where closer to a pair of briefs than they where to an actual pair of shorts. He groan slightly, holding her against him for a brief moment before reaching over to the bedside table. It was dark still, no sunlight cracking through the window. He pulled the alarm clock over to himself and pressed a button, the light that backlit the clock lit up. 6:00am? "6:00am?!" he questioned putting the clock down before looking to Kushina who was nuzzling, squirming and hugging against him. "Why Kushina." he said in an exasperated tone that sounded like 'You betrayed me!' He removed his arm from her and grabbed onto the covers, pulling them with a strong tug as he rolled over onto his side, holding the whole of the bed covers in his hands leaving her to lay without any on her side of the bed his back to her. He couldn't help but grin at their playful interaction, it may be 6:00am, she may be the devil himself for waking him up this early, but he still loved her. "I'm going back to sleep." he mumbled into the covers that he hogged in front of himself. He knew she'd have no such thing, and she'd win, she always won, but he wouldn't give in to her easily, not without a fight.

Her brother was dead...she still couldn't believe it, it felt like someone had ripped out her heart. The worst part of it was that she had even seen his death through his eyes for a moment. Wanda Maximoff shuttered in her seat on the giant shuttle that held so many people. She hadn't been allowed to even get on the same shuttle as her brother's body was on, causing her anger to rise and her hands glowing red slightly. The young woman took a deep breath before getting up to her feet and quickly moving away from the other people, trying to hide herself away from the others on the plane. It took nearly nineteen hours to get back to the states, drop off civilians, and get everyone else to the new Avengers base. In that time Wanda had not even taken a nap despite how tired she was. As they made it into the building, there was Nick Fury waiting for them. "Natasha, we have a bit of a problem," he said as he looked between the two women. "We are going to need you to room with Miss Maximoff for a bit since her room is still being built." He wasn't sure how Natasha would feel about the idea after Wanda had messed with her head, but she was the only other female here.

After all the craziness of the last few days, from being brain-fucked, to the Hulk rampage, and then getting to deal with an insane evil robot... this was perhaps not how Natasha wanted to cap off her day. She glanced idly at the younger woman standing beside her, trying to hide her deep bitterness and annoyance behind her usually indifferent expression. Of all the people to get stuck with... But she couldn't complain. Didn't have the energy after all that had transpired. "Fine," Natasha finally admitted. The busty redhead moved to stand upright and brushed some lingering bits of dust and debris from her tight black suit. Having to share space with this girl... even if she was cute, there was a lot of annoyance simmering under the surface. "It's only temporary anyway," Natasha said, before making her way off to the living quarters. She could put up with this... or even find a way to enjoy it.

Meila kept tapping her foot over and over again on the floor of her bedroom, her mind thinking over the argument she had just had with her now ex-boyfriend. She slammed her hand down on her dresser before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. "Alright... that does it," she growled as she made her way down the stairs of the Torchwood hub. "Jack, what the hell were you thinking? Drugging my boyfriend just because you're jealous of him?" she asked, shoving a finger into his chest, making sure it hurt him a bit, to make a point. Meila looked like some 18 year old school girl, but in reality she was a 600-year-old Time Lord, though she had kept this truth hidden from Jack until recently. It was more Ianto who had brought it to their boss's attention, which only made Jack even more protective of her. Meila had light blonde hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin. Her body was an athletic build, with small breasts and a tight ass. She stood at 5'4" and weighed 120 lbs, all muscle. One thing that made her so attractive to most men was her temper and how cute she looked when she was angry. "I should send your ass back to your room and tie you up again," she growled before shaking her head. "Thanks to you, he broke up with me." she hissed then spun around and made her way to her desk where she slipped into her chair. She pulled her headphones on over her ears and began typing away at a report, trying to ignore him now. Biting her lip, Meila ran her fingers through her hair and gritted her teeth tightly. "You really know how to get on my nerves, and you should be proud of it either." she went on saying.

Jack loved it when Meila was angry, the way her brow furrowed and she got these little dimples in her cheeks that made her look even younger. He imagined sex with her when she was angry would be quite an event. But then she might try to kill him so, you know, swings and roundabouts. It was true, he had been jealous of her boyfriend, but then her boyfriend had also been a dick and not someone he wanted anywhere near Torchwood. He couldn't help but feel a frisson of excitement at the thought of Meila tying him up again, but he quickly shook the image away and strode over to her. "You might want to remember who's in charge around here," Jack said, trying to sound authoritative. "We don't need dead wood like...him hanging around causing distractions." He paused for emphasis, but he wasn't even sure she was listening to him. He tried to soften his tone a little. "Look we're getting some strange anomalous readings coming through the rift. Temporal waves. I'm not sure what they mean, so if you could apply your massive intellect to that I'd be most grateful." Too patronising? He thought maybe yes, but what the hell. Jack spun on his heel and marched away to his office, just as Ianto's boyish face appeared at the top of the stairs. "Don't let him get to you," Ianto said in his sweet Welsh lilt, "He's just a big pussycat really." ianto smiled. He was in love with Jack, but there was something about Meila that stirred something in him he'd never experienced in relation to a woman before. Even a 600 year old time lord woman.

Bella Thorne fought the urge to fidget as she knelt on the relatively plush carpet. The well-lit hotel room in which she knelt at least looked halfway acceptable. It would have had to be, to fit in with her assigned role. The pretty teenager lifted a slightly nervous hand, pristine nails just flicking aside strawberry blonde hair. The long, loose curls at least kept it clear from her expertly painted face, especially the plump pink lips that glistened in the light. They'd spent almost half an hour on those lips alone, layering expensive lipstick and gloss on them till they seemed almost fake, as if someone had attached a blow-up doll's lips onto the gorgeous actress's face. The same care had gone into primping the girl's lean body: powder on the breasts just so, dress hung with plunging neckline. Hell, Bella had worked her way through something like six pairs of underwear before the Guia La Bruna thong vivisected her plump white cheeks. The panties alone would have fed a family of four for a few months, let alone the dress and makeup. But Bella had argued, insisted, and when she did that, she won. Sometimes she had to purse those lips and wink or tease or wiggle fingers, but she always won. Every man she'd ever met had stared at her body, at the beautiful, innocent face, at the ripe breasts, at the softly rounded ass, and felt a stirring in his loins. Probably most of the women felt the same way. Bella used it, abused it, and got what she wanted. But she'd been stuck in teen-bopper roles for something like years now. Even her more recent roles had pretty well pigeon-holed her as the precious little teenager. So she'd insisted that her agent find her something real, something with substance, something that would put her on the serious film map. It was that or she'd fire him and find someone who could. Which is how Bella found herself in the starring role of Rich Little Escort. The role had been amazing, and at times Bella almost felt as if she were her character. It probably helped that the girl had decided to use Bella Luna as her "stage name." A beautiful socialite needing change in her life opts to become a high-end escort for expert clientele, only to find herself wrapped up in the world of debauchery and sexual commerce. Edgy, real, and it paired Bella with some of the best names in the business. All of which led to a pretty girl kneeling in a room, waiting patiently while they got ready for the sex scenes. Supposedly they were going to use doubles for the actual action, which would be entirely real, no simulation, but they needed her first reactions for up-close shots and a few initials. Bella was already bored, and pretty well assured that she'd just be pulling out some poor old guy's tiny little willie, jerking it a few times and pretending that it was the best thing in the world. Thousands if not millions in the bank, and awards shows already clamoring for her name. "Where's the male talent already?" she demanded, twisting to look, knowing that he'd been in another room. The real talent, the one she'd wanted to work with, had gone in a door, and the "sex talent" would soon come out and insist that Bella draw him out for the initial blowjob. The actress sighed again, fidgeting and pulling at the dress, ready to lash into the entire crew for the simply intolerable lack of professionalism.

Frank Wagner was very satisfied with the particular arrangement that brought him to this particular set today. He was used to shooting sex scenes on movie sets, just not ones of this caliber. Frank was a fairly well-known porn star, known for directing porn that was both sensual, exciting but also depraved. He also had a lucrative side business of satisfying wealthy women in heat. But he had never played with someone of Bella Thorne's caliber before and he was looking forward to it. Bella Thorne was the perfect girl for a Frank treatment. He had created a niche of production focusing on breaking boundaries of performers and making videos of exquisite pleasure and satisfaction. Frank's latest movie was about a highly popular lesbian pornstar's (for porn only, had a bf) first b/g shoot. Frank had kept her pussy for her bf and ravished her virgin ass for most of the shoot, shocking even herself with assgasms on camera. No wonder that she had left the studio with him for some all-night long fun. So Frank knew exactly what he had to do and he was looking forward to it. It must have been one lucky guy to teach Ms. Thorne the true pleasure of the flesh and making her scream on camera. He wore a nice-looking suit that she would need to fish him out of, adjusted his cock, and strode in to the set. He smiled at the sexy actress kneeling for him, looking sultry and sensual in that dress, playing the role of a socialite seeking sexual adventure, and Frank was planning to give her just that. He moved in front of her, standing as the script called for, the outline of a fat, veiny cock clearly visible through his slacks as the director asked for their readiness and the shoot began. Frank's hand slipped into her silky blonde hair, caressing and encouraging her like the male character was supposed to in the scene, waiting for her to free him and gauge her reaction to the fat, veiny cock that he was sure would surprise the inexperienced actress.

An exhaustedSelena Gomezgratefully took the offer drink and sipped it without thinking much of the consequences. The cool refreshing drink filled her mouth with a fruity flavor almost immediately. That chill continued as the teenage starlet swallowed, throat working subtly to take the drink into her system. She could feel the chilled liquid slightly burning as it settled into her stomach, almost as if fumes rose up from within to start bubbling at her brain. Selena very nearly hiccuped, raising a carefully trimmed hand up to cover her lips daintily, smiling at her host with some embarrassment. To think that she actually got an invite here, of all places. He'd come out of no where, risen to power seemingly overnight, and the whole world had no real choice but to take notice. Yet it had been her, Selena Gomez, who had gotten the invitation into his home. There had been a lot of arranging to get her here: paperwork to fill out, schedules to arrange, diplomatic proceedings to adhere too. They'd had to send Selena's luggage ahead, which had left her with nothing but a small clutch purse when she'd finally arrived. She'd used that as an excuse when she'd first been led to the chambers, but they didn't seem to care. Nor did they seem to care that the petite teen wore what amounted to an oversized sweater. Technically it was Versace, and probably cost a good deal, but it still looked almost as comfortable as fashionable, less so after the travels. Selena knew full well that her hair had to look a mess: black locks hanging in strands, some loose, some curling slightly, some nearly falling to frame her rounded face. A lot of her makeup had probably run off too: she'd been able to touch up her lips slightly with some gloss and dot around her eyes, but she just knew she had to look awful. Still, she was before her esteemed host, sipping his drink. She complimented him on it before taking an offered piece of what looked like cracker, nibbling slightly at it, glad to get something in her belly. The girl flashed a grateful smile, starting to clear her throat to begin thanking verbally as well. It was then that an attendant spoke: "Now, as per custom, you have agreed to the terms discussed. You shall enter into the harem as a willing participant, and adhere to your new master's wi--" "What?" Selena stammered, spraying a little cracker/bread. She gaped at her host, brown eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly agape. "Is he... that's a really weird joke..." she glanced down at the cracker, dropping it as if it were on fire, hand already rubbing against her outfit, as if to wipe away whatever had caused this awful misunderstanding.

Almost out of nowhere, Ghazi rose to power, gaining control of some land where he built his fortress-like palace out in the middle of nowhere. Something was missing, however; he wanted celebrity girls - girls who were so highly sought after that people would be surprised that he obtained such a rare treasure. Yet he did, over the few weeks it took him to make it possible, Ghazi managed to secure a celebrity of a different kind. Everything was looking good, but he couldn't stop at just one celebrity; he wanted a whole bunch of them serving his every need and want. It was good to be powerful. Selena Gomez was one of those said celebrities that Ghazi had to have in his harem. With her inside and locked into his fortress, there wasn't much anyone else could do. Ghazi had followed her progress well, knew the performances and movies she was in, and was glad that she accepted his invitation to come here. When she did, she accepted a lot more than she thought she did. When she arrived, he watched her. She looked so good, and he couldn't wait to get her into her outfit and have her bent over with his long cock inside her all day. It was of course what these celebrities were meant for. He wondered how she would take her new role but figured that she wouldn't take long to realize what she was there for; she was smart, after all. Ghazi offered her a drink and the cacker as he sat there watching her in silence. His long beard hadn't been washed in days, and his own clothing looked like a total mess. He smiled as the attendant spoke, this was the moment that she was going to be introduced to his harem and his rules, and thus he wanted this moment to be special - in a way that she wouldn't forget any time soon. Today was the last day of her old life. Soon, she would be slipped into the ways of a harem girl and expected to serve his wishes. Ghazi was overweight; his long black hair and brown eyes watched her in silence for a moment. She means that you have agreed to stay here as one of many celebrity harem girls that I will create. You will follow my commands, dress the way I want you to dress, and serve me in many different ways. He explained to her as he watched her in silence after that.

Harry Potter was a special child. Destined to be the Chosen One, to stop the terrifying monster that was Lord Voldemort. Yet how much of that story was true? How much of that story was destiny? Was any of it? Or was it all orchestrated by one twisted old man with a superiority complex? No one wondered if prophesy was all a load of bull, since they all wanted hope to cling onto. And that hope was in the form of the Boy Who Lived. It was a nice, sunny day at the Burrow, the residence of the Weasleys, when Dumbledore apparated the young Harry Potter to his makeshift home. Living with the Dursleys was never much fun, and the Weasleys always treated him like one of their own. With a loving smile, Mrs Weasley welcomes Harry into her home, a bone-crushing hug being the norm. As the raven-haired boy disappeared upstairs, still quite distressed about the loss of his Godfather, Sirius Black, his friend Ronald appeared from behind the corner. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?" The redhead said, a little uncertainty in his voice. "Can we talk for a moment?" The request came, and the elderly fellow nodded with a small laugh. "Of course, my boy. And please, call me Albus." With the suggestion that they enter his father's shed, with the various Muggle equipment laying around, the odd pair was off for an obviously private conversation. "You promised I would have her by now!" Ron stormed angrily, his face bright red as they entered the shed. "It's not fair. That prissy mudblood bitch should be grovelling at my feet right now, sucking my cock," he said, his face holding a dreamy look for a moment before shaking out of it. "I've been keeping up my end of the bargain like you asked. I've been a nice friend to the Potter prick, but now I want what's mine!" He finished, his face matching his hair. "Quiet Ronald! You don't want anyone to hear you. Now... I intended Mr. Potter to die by Tom's hand at the Ministry, but he was much stronger willed than I anticipated. I even used a mild Cruciatus curse on him, but he relented still." Dumbledore sighed. "We are all missing out Ronald. Miss Weasley hasn't been able to give Harry her love potion yet. I haven't gotten the fame and fortune, so I think you can wait a few more weeks for that mudblood slut..." He suggested. Dumbledore was a powerful man, so crossing him was not advised. "Yes sir," he sighed in defeat. "Good. Now, I have made you and Miss Granger the Head Students a year early this year. This will give you two the master suite. I don't need to know what you'll be doing to that mudblood, just make sure she's still alive." "Yes sir," Ron said again. A few minutes later, the conversation was finished.

It had never been easy, being the friend of the Boy Who Lived, since it meant that they were risking their own lives by being by his side and helping him in his fight against the Dark Lord. Hermione Granger, however, was not one to back down from any threat, no matter how daunting. Friends were friends and the bushy haired know-it-all, as she'd been known as for as long as she could remember, would defend Harry's honor and stick with him through thick and thin. Given they were all at the Burrow now, their home away from home, maybe now she could convince the boys to be a bit more meticulous with their studies and maybe even get Ronald to support S.P.E.W., although the brainy witch knew that would be easier said than done. He was so incredibly thick... Speaking of Ron...she'd wondered where he'd gone off to. It wasn't until she looked out the window and saw him with...Dumbledore, of all people, that her curiosity was piqued, and so despite her usual politeness the young muggleborn couldn't help but sneak out towards the shed to listen in on what the two were saying. If this concerned herself or Harry, surely she had a right to know? But what she heard next made bile rise to her throat and make her go quite pale. No...she wasn't hearing it right, she wasn't...Ron couldn't be...dear God. It was them...Dumbledore wasn't the kindly old man that she thought him to be...and Ron...Ron was such a...such a slag! Tears filled her eyes...was that truly all he thought of her as? Just a mudblood? She thought he was better than that, better than Malfoy. Harry.... Harry! She had to tell him! Backing away, Hermione gave a flick and apparated with a crack from outside into the bedroom her bespectacled friend was no doubt in, "Harry, Harry we must get out of here, Dumbledore and and...and Ron..." Her voice quavered at the end, but she held strong, "I overheard them in the shed, they're planning on using us both, Dumbledore wanted you dead!" She takes a deep breath, "Ginny is also planning on giving you a love potion. I know it sounds like rubbish...but it's the truth. We must leave now!" She didn't know how much longer they had; she prayed Ron and Dumbledore hadn't heard her taking her leave. If she could apparate herself and Harry out of there, she knew that she'd have a chance. It was the only way. Ron had hurt her...she'd fancied him for so long...and to know he was no better than Malfoy? It was sickening...was this entire family as traitorous as the death eaters made them out to be? How had they not seen the signs?

The walker outbreak might be five hundred days old but it never got any easier living in this world. Most people were living day-to-day and scavenging for supplies with no shelter over their head. The lack of protection and lack of other people's morals made this a dangerous way of living because the walkers were not the only problem. Humans might have been just as big or even bigger of a problem than walkers were. The will to survive was a natural desire and it caused ordinary people to do crazy things without any punishment. There was no law anymore, just survival. A lucky group of people in Georgia had found shelter in a prison. It had a couple layers of fences with the tops covered in barbed wire with towers all around to serve as a watchtower so no one got close. They had occupied this place for nearly an entire year with organized systems in place like growing crops, maintaining an armory, and sleeping quarters. It had been about five months since the incident with Woodbury and the Governor, thinking that they were safe. A couple dozen of Woodbury's former residents were now living with the prison, expanding the living quarters and providing more mouths to feed but more able bodies to work. In reality, there was nothing else like this anymore and it was pretty much all controlled by the former sheriff Rick Grimes. His right hand man was Daryl Dixon with Glenn Rhee and twenty-six year old Lee Hughes not far behind. Everyone looked to these men as the main leaders even though Rick was taking a step back now from all the stressful decisions, formulating a council to act as the head of the prison group. It was early in the morning and the sun was just rising. Lee slept peacefully on the bed inside of the cell he shared with his wife of over two years, Maggie Greene. The couple had grown up together and started dating in their early years. Of course, no one expected this to last because they were just kids at the time they began dating but strangely enough, nothing could ever break them apart. They survived high school and college unscathed. Sure, they had arguments because all couples argue but there was never any major problems. Lee was in his last year of college at the University of Georgia as an Administration major when the outbreak started. Before the outbreak, Lee and Maggie planned to get married after graduation to start their lives together but it wasn't that simple. In the early days, everyone on the farm except Lee believed these people were sick and could be healed with prayer and medicine. Lee wasn't this kind of person because he watched his mother die firsthand from this infection. She worked as a nurse in the local hospital where the first strains of infection broke out and when he couldn't get into contact with her, he sneaked inside the hospital to find his mother being ripped to shreds by these things that were not human. These things were not human and it took the arrival of Rick's group to make everyone understand that. His father was a police officer and killed on the line of duty when Lee was only five years old so he was all alone now but Hershel and Annette Greene happily accepted him onto the farm. Before the farm went to flames, Maggie and Lee were able to have a little ceremony to signify their marriage, using some old wedding bands that was in Maggie's family. Two years later, the twenty-six year old male was laying on a mattress inside of a prison cell. His attire right now consists of only his navy blue boxers because he can't sleep in any clothing but a minimal covering of his body was required because the world was so unpredictable. His hair was very dark brown, almost a black color. However, it was rather short and straight with no curls at all. His eyes were a bright blue, complimenting his hair. His beard was the same color as the hair on his head and it was quite unruly and untamed. Besides Rick, Lee had the fullest beard of all the men around. For his entire life, lee played football and lifted weights, keeping his body in top form. Therefore, when the outbreak began, the physical demands of the new world allowed him plenty of opportunities to build more muscle. Being outside so much allowed for a deeper tan along with a chiseled body from head to toe. While there wasn't enough nutrition to go around every day, he was becoming more slender each day but his muscle definition was still obvious. Lee was also the tallest man around, towering at an impressive six feet and four inches above the ground. So far, he had to duck through nearly every doorway at this prison. Lee was quiet, kind, and conscientious. He often put others needs before his own and has always been socially awkward, preferring to stick to himself in most cases. While his kind heart remained and he still wanted to help people out during this outbreak, he was also wary of the opposition because only a handful of people in this world were not murderers. His number one priority every day was to ensure the safety of his wife Maggie followed by ensuring the other members of his group were safe. They were his family now and he treated it like so. There was some rustling on the bed that woke him up from his slumber. It was probably going to be a relaxed day since he didn't have anything to do other than take a two hour shift on the watch tower facing North around noon. It was rare to get a day where he could sleep in and just relax so he planned on using it to his advantage but his eyes slowly open, sleep still showing on his face. He wasn't comprehending the world around him right now, just waking up from his deep slumber. "Maggie?" He murmured, blue eyes now fully open to see Maggie shifting around beside of him as he rolled onto his back.

The cells in the prison weren't the biggest, why would they be? They held the country's most harmful men - murderers, rapists, burglars, drug users. The beds were just metal frames with a thin mattress on top, covered by one blanket; it wasn't much, but to the survivors it was heaven. Maggie was lying in the bed next to Lee, who had pushed two beds together to form a bigger surface. Both had been asleep in their 'love den' all night. Maggie was wearing nothing but a bra and panties, both black, and she lay on her stomach with her head on the pillow. Stirring from her slumber when Lee called her name, the girl smiled at him while sunshine streamed through the window, which had three metal bars running through it. "So nice to wake up safe," she yawned, stretching herself, rolling onto her back with her hands and arms now in the air. The pair were in a different section of the prison; they used the excuse that they would keep watch, keeping all entrances covered, but everyone knew they were married, and therefore probably wanted to be alone. Leaning in, Maggie kissed her husband on the cheek and then nestled on top of his chest, her cheek pressed against him. "I'm going to have to go soon. Got a run to make with a few of the others. Maybe get some medical supplies. We need them." Her accent was strong, and a finger ran a circle around his stomach as she spoke.

Rilima Daymasat found herself in what had to be one of the most sleazy bars in all the Citadel. After its reconstruction and repair after the end of the Reaper War, many new venues had popped up in the vast station. Now designed with all the races in mind, not just the Founding Council races, the Ward's House now housed an even more varied underbelly than before. This bar was tailored specifically to Krogan drinks and food, and as such had many aggressive beasts here. Why she was here was a long story, but she could summarize it like this: her boyfriend, a nice budding young man from the Alliance, had talked her into trying more kinky things. What he really wanted was a threesome, like any man, and had practically begged for it. She caved, but on the condition that she got to pick who, when, and how, which he had hastily agreed too. She almost felt sorry for the boy, since he wasn't going to be getting the pair of girls riding him like he might have been expecting. Rilima was here to find a partner, and no female at that. She was here to find someone to give him a new outlook on what 'kinky' is. She knew full well he was not the sort of man to back down, so this was certainly going to test him. So she spent the night sitting at a table alone with a drink, scanning the room, watching for big Krogan who caught her eye, those that took an interest in her anyway. She had already turned away a couple who didn't want to fuck a guy, even for the promise of her, but she knew it would be a matter of time till one showed up.

Trendok Sroyaxe, or Tren by those who knew him, stood at the bar of the sleazy bar. It was a place where he came to release his anger and frustration, which sometimes led to brawls with smaller Krogen. To be honest, few equaled that of Tren; he was at least a foot taller than most Krogen and built like a Turian Dreadnought. His reddish-tan body was only hidden by his ebony black armored suit. A suit that showed off just how mighty a Krogen he was, all the way down to his exquisite male anatomy. This night though, he wasn't looking to brawl or anything harmful. He was getting bored with the usual items here at the bar: the drinks, the brawls, and even the women and men who sought his services. Sipping his strong stout, he gazed around the bar, expecting nothing interesting. Mostly what he saw was usual, and he was about to leave, it was then someone caught his eye. Over in a booth there was an Asari, not like the others who danced or were just not to his liking. This one looked on a mission. He had seen her talk to many large and formidable Krogen, but all looked displeased when they left her. The curiosity was growing in him, but he wasn't one to be small-minded and just ask her; he would wait here. The thought of what she was doing made him grin and chuckle low. What was she up to? And as he thought, he glanced over at her stout in hand and giving it a nice swig, but not looking away from her.

Curtis looked down at the handcuffs, chaining his wrists and ankles together during the ride to Arkham. It was absolute bullshit that he was being put with the crazies in that asylum, all because he defaced the property of corrupt government officials. Well... defacing might be a tame word for it, especially considering the flesh-eating acid he put in one guy's car air conditioner. It wasn't enough to kill or seriously harm, just enough to scare and some minor permanent damage. But that was no reason for him to go to Arkham Asylum, right? Curtis Smith was a seventeen, almost eighteen year old boy with a prowess for liquids of the dangerous variety. Anything that went boom made the boy smile, and if it was made by him, a full on grin would appear. But with talents like his, he hadn't gone to the 'dark side', not yet at least. That's why his victims were always the corrupt ones, the guys that were in the pocket of Two Face or Cobblepot. Those guys could afford to be put down a peg or ten, who cares? Beside the handcuffed criminal sat two larger men, assault rifles in hand, They watched him intently, ensuring that he had no magic tricks to get out of their grasp. But he knew that this would be his life from now on, he didn't have friends in high places to get him out of a mess like this. Feeling quite hungry, the topic of food soon entered his mind. "What kind of food do they have at Arkham?" The boy was cut off by a hard slam as something hit the armoured car, sending it across the road into a nearby building. The brick wall seemed stronger than armoured car as the metallic vehicle crumbled. The mere hit alone seemed to kill the guards that had been sitting across from him, but it still injured Curtis greatly. The last thing he saw before he fell unconscious was the van's back doors being ripped off, revealing a few thugs standing behind a woman. This woman did not have any distinguishable features - likely due to his blurring vision - but she seemed colourful.

Cuffed and chained to a bench in the heart of a crumpled police van now rolled over on its side, to say the teenage boy in his plain orange prison outfit and blurred expression was impressive would be grossly charitable. Yet there was something about that crazy little half-smile in his mug shots that caught her eye - not to mention that flesh eating acid gag! That one was worthy of Mista J! Harley Quinn paused at the thought, sniffed, then let out a peal of laughter as she sprang into the back of the van and swung her special striped Louisville Slugger around into the back of the head of one corpse that was looking at her funny. "Hey Lewis, come give me a hand? " The bloody bat rose once again, and came down with vicious force to snap open Curtis' chains where they attached to the seat. The boy slumped to the ground, but between them Lewis and Roscoe soon had him slung between their shoulders. In the distance police sirens wailed, and Harley led her posse away from the van and the big rig half mounting it. They all bundled into a white-rimmed sedan and tore off down the back streets with their prize. When he finally woke, Curtis would find he'd been laid out on a medical gurney in one corner of a warehouse. There was a red-and-black blanket laid over him to keep him warm, both sides rolled in beneath him like a semi-criminal sausage. A flickering light hung low overhead, and on the next gurney over Harley sat, kicking her heels as she stared at the wall over his head and chewed her gum. Half-outside the light circle a third gurney sat, but by the bleeding hole in his head that guy had seen better days. Once she saw he was awake, Harley thrust out a hand and beamed at the prone boy. "Hey, how are ya Curtis? Thanks for comin' by!

Beneath With Me Club LUSH is one of the most infamous underground super clubs buried in the ever-growing black market of Coruscant. Having now become a center haven for illegal activity and unlawful negotiations, it is a high-end night club and bar harboring customers from crooks, to criminals, to even corrupt politicians. Club LUSH had them all. Despite its flagrant reputation, it is deemed virtually untouchable; protected by its bound criminal ties and cemented fortunes. Many called it "illegally legal", but still, it grew from a hole in the wall to a glorious empire. Now reigned as a multi-facet establishment, the building contained several floors. The main floor Level 1, or "LUSH LOUNGE", was the main point of entry of the building which was a sort of more relaxed, lounging area. This floor also contained a reception desk which allowed for check in and check out of the Club for all related visitors, as well as special access to LUSH hotel rooms (available only to wealthy and prestigious individuals as well as VIP members). Level 2-5 are all floor providing an assortment of different hotel rooms and private rooms. Level 6 was LUX PENTHOUSE, a quieter and much more luxurious lounge and bar that also provided gambling. Only VIP members were granted access to this area, which was not only extremely exclusive but also private. Most criminal activities and political corruptions took place on this level. It was a safe playground for all major underground business deals. Though, probably the most public business was the lower level basement. Ground Zero or more well known as the "DUNGEON", was an underground electronic night club. It employed dozens of artists of various talents, from your typical exotic pole dancers and club singers, to aerial artists and accomplished musical groups - there was entertainment to suit many tastes. Although the LUSH may look polished to the club-hungry outsider, it was a dark places; operating at the hands of a monster. To him, I was not an entertainer... I was a slave; property. AS SKILLED WITH HER VOICE AS SHE IS WITH HER HIPS The papers' headlines read; completely belittling my being to just an object of desire. To happy-go-lucky paying customers, I was capable of rendering even the strongest of men completely smitten. Although locally acclaimed, many would assume that my status as a low-time underworld celebrity was in good taste. Bound by the silence of my invisible shackles, I was not a free woman. Grim, the owner of Club LUSH and a notorious drug-lord, loved to watch me perform. "You promised me this would be my last!" I argued with him as he sat laid back in the shadows of his office, practically fabricated entirely out of gold. "The revenue the Dungeon show alone has generated is double the amount remaining on my debt. I've earned my freedom," I said. There was silence, then two puffs of smoke from his cigarette that seeped from his devious lips and polluted the air in the room. His grinning smile was enough to send shivers down any person's spine. Even the strongest of men felt sick with just one wicked glance from the eyes of the infamous Grim. Suddenly, he burst out laughing, emitting the most diabolical hysteria I had ever seen. "Freedom?" He spat back in my face. "You've become a star here, Gypsy." The name made me cringe. It was the very nickname that cemented by dreaded fate in this hellbound establishment. "Your debt is paid, it's true. But if you leave, my biggest asset will be lost. I will lose revenue... and that darling... That will be on you," he said with a smirk. My mouth dropped as my eyes widened at his twisted sense of logic. He continued. "You don't think I can forgive such a defacement of my business, do you? No, you see..." He took another whiff of his fag before taking the drag in between his index and thumb. He faced the cigarette down, as if to put it out, and right when he did so, two guards lunged for me, forcing my chest forward onto the table. One guard pinned my head on the table, making me look up to the one man I hated most in this world. The second guard forced my hand out as an offering to him. Grim grinned, "... You're mine." Grim pushed the lit butt of the cigarette into my palm, using my flesh as a personal ashtray. I yelped out as the drag seared my skin. Marking me permanently, Grim leaned in and whispered in my ear. "...You'll always be mine." It was a wild Saturday night in the busy lower streets of Coruscant. The dark streets, infinitely untouched by sunlight, were illuminated solely on bright neons and foggy street lights. The sound of muffle music could be heard blaring from multiple establishments amidst downtown nightlife. But the most popular and prominent business was none other than Club LUSH. The place had a lineup that encircled the entire block, with mostly VIPs and other important persons making it in while the rest of mediocre and unimportant citizens waited patiently for a chance of entry. Tonight was DUNGEON DJ Night, a massive blowout electro party in the underground sector of the club. The event catered to a younger demographic, with blasting electronic music all revolving around a "break free" theme. The irony was especially painful for the dancers, singers, and virtually any female employee who had become indebted to Grim. We were not free. We would never be free. With tables pushed back to make room for a gigantic dance floor, the DJ was spinning and the club was alive. The music so loud it practically slapped you, the energy in the club was unmatched and electric. Performing was the only sense of relief I got from this unfortunate fate. For only a brief moment, while leading a mass of party goers to their happy places, could I experience a small, fractured glimpse of freedom. "I WANNA SEE YOU BREAK FREEEE!" Jumping up and down to build up the crowd, every single member on the dance floor had their hands up in the air, jumping, screaming, and singing with me as the DJ pumped the song Dance Without You to my vocals. So serious, all the time I feel restrained. I feel confined. I cannot take your whispering, your whispering I wanna dance without you For once just let me lose myself I wanna dance without you For once just let me lose myself For once let me lose myself How can I make history, with your choreography? Take your hands off me, Take your hands off me Before I suffocate I wanna dance without you For once just let me lose myself I wanna dance without you For once just let me lose myself lose myself For once let me lose myself Although I was a slave, my skimpy outfit adorned in gold told a very different story. Free from shackles on the stage, I sang solo but danced with a troupe of other talented dancers behind me. At first glance I seemed innocent, but the white color of my attire would soon betray that image as I moved my body with hypnotic fluidity. I had become well-known for my belly dancing before Club fame, and I incorporated my abdominal and hip skills in virtually every dance skit I choreographed. The papers were right. With silky purple skin and fearless violent eyes, I was a striking sight to see. Despite the crazy party, pumping with increasing intensity, DUNGEON DJ featured several intermissions where the music dimmed down, allowing for partiers to take a break from dancing to grab drinks, food, and often...drugs. My segment, which incorporated live singing to many of the songs customers dance to, was only 2 hours, starting at 11pm and ending at 1am. After the set would end, I would continue to entertain by serving and socializing with customers until the club faded out by about 3 in the morning. With just minutes to spare before 1am, the song Dance Without You concluded, and my last finale began on a much deeper feeling. The stage filled with artificial smoke, completely devouring the dance crew, including myself. The room now in almost total utter darkness as the transition took effect. The beat transitioned into a darker undertone and the crowd settled down with the change. The stage was now void of any dancers; and I was the only one left on stage. Within seconds, the smoke began to clear, and a single, dull beam of light rose from the stage at my feet. The light shun upwards, illuminating my body but shadowing my face. Can't escape All the fire burning bright Water still is rising Throughout the long nights My voice became saturated in sweetness; its harmonious tune soft against my tongue. The room was sedated, enthralled by my seductive voice as I searched for wanting eyes. Locking eyes on a mysterious face in the crowd, I extended my hand outward, unintentionally revealing the same flesh that had been scarred just hours earlier. Come take my hand And focus on the light down at the end Say words to comfort me We still have time for hope That's all we need Beneath with me Beneath with me Beneath with me As the beat built up and subsequently dropped, smoke began to form again on stage. The fog was swallowing me from behind, taking my head, torso, legs and feet. For only a brief moment, it left solely my extended hand in the light before taking that too. The song left a ghostly resonance, as if I were the recently deceased, void of all freedom and life, calling out for anyone to join in this journey of death...Beneath With Me. When my voice returned, I could not be seen, only heard. I was consumed by the darkness of the terminated lights, missing in the crowd's bed of black. Morning grace Enemies have come together Miles have gone silent In the arms of strangers The foggy abyss of the stage cleared, and the darkness lifted. I stood on stage still as a statue, my head down to the floor surrounded by black gowned dancers. Their faces and identities completely hidden beneath the confines of a silenced golden skull mask. Behind me lay a massive sheet of silk material which hung from a suspension to the ceiling. As I continued to sing, the skull dancers remained completely still beside me. Come take my hand And focus on the light down at the end Say words to comfort me We still have time for hope That's all we need Beneath with me Beneath with me Beneath with me At the end of the final verse, the skull-faced dancers began to grab me in an artificially violent manner. I was tossed around like a rag doll as they thrashed me back and forth. Their hands molested my body, rubbing me and groping me as they took their turns. As the beat dropped, they shoved me to the ground and tore my skirt off, leaving me in nothing but scantily clad bikini bottoms. They began wrapping the silk intricately around my body and legs before finally disappearing into the smoke again. My body was lifted off the ground as the silk sheet, coiled around me, was pulled slowly into the air. The silk not only suspended me above the stage, but moved forward to hang above the seduced crowd. Right before the beat ceased, I flipped forward, my body unraveling like a pulled stitch as I spiraled loose from the silk. I dropped down, suspended upside-down with dead weight as I hung like acorpsewith the cheering crowd laying lamentbeneath with me.

The streets of Coruscant's Underground were notoriously slimy. Not in dirty or trash, but with people walking it. Countless various species rubbing shoulders, always with a hand on their pockets. Trust was a valuable and rare commodity, and none shared it on the streets themselves. Stimulation to the eyes was torturous - neon lights flashing and blinking because of bad connections, young people waving light sticks as they listened to music from mobile devices. Bright streetlights fought to keep alight walkways, but blindness cursed these streets. Not always figuratively. The noise was deafening: shouting salesmen peddling goods on open streets, various music all mangled together in a mess of bleeding beats and cutting riffs. The screams and pleas of slaves and beaten victims were heard. Being deaf was a relief in these streets. The streets were packed, leaving little shoulder room even at this time of night. People could not walk more than a foot without having to avoid bumping into strangers. A stranger more likely to steal your valuables or cut you down than say hello or sorry. But in these packed streets there were those who could walk unhindered: slavers mainly but occasionally the black-robed stranger cut its way through the crowds. The intimidating powerful force of one of these men or women could cut through these crowded streets like a warm knife through butter. Even slavers gave way to folk like this. Red eyes glared their way through the streets, intent on a destination. Even shrouded behind a hood, their faint glow was visible, making the imposing force even more respected, and feared. A Slaver quickened his slaves across the streets, slapping one slave for begging at the tall, red eyed man. The man didn't even look over his shoulder at the commotion. He continued. Cutting his way through the main crowd, leading into an opening of the street, were big signs tainted everyone's vision. 'Club LUSH'. The red eyed man stopped in his tracks, glaring emotionless at the many signs, before looking over his shoulder to a nearby poster for the club. The picture of the beautiful woman on it was not the thing to catch his attention, but instead the lineup of artists this night. With wondering eyes, he glared at the poster for a while, before picking out a communication device from his pocket. Clicking a button, a figure became apparent on the device. This wore a black robe, much like the one the red eyed man wore himself. Beneath the hood, a face was clouded in a black smoke, revealing only a pair of green lights, where eyes should be. The voice was rasping and shrouded, as if spoken through smoke. You've reached Club LUSH. This is Grim's domain. He is the man you must speak to, once you find the subject. We've both felt the power of this source. We must have this one... Make this clear to him, and he will see reason. If not... Next visit will be of my Apprentice. I am counting on you. Get this subject. The red eyed man pressed the same button again and pocketed the device as the image disappeared. Once again, strong steps sent the man towards his destination, the black robe waving behind him in the wind, and fighting to keep up with his pace. The red-eyed man walked straight through the massive crowd of people. Again, his robes and red eyes granted him an amount of respect and fear that allowed him to barge straight through. As two Zabrak politicians opened the door, laughing and joking about something meaningless, the red-eyed man barged right past them, through the open door. One of the men shouted after the red-eyed man, but was quickly silenced by the less intoxicated pencil pusher. The red-eyed man didn't even allow them a glance over his shoulder. Reaching the receptionist, he barged right past the lines and ignored the scantily clad woman behind it, who was already talking to another customer. This caused quite the complaining murmur in the impatient crowd. The receptionist looked up, wide-eyed, seemingly surprised at the feeling of authority in the man arriving. "Excuse me, sir," she said, "You'll have to wait in line like anybody else, even as a politician." She started, appalled by the rude behavior of the new arrival. As she spoke, the red-eyed man fished something out of an inner pocket in his robe and placed it on the table. A signet of the Senate proclaiming this man had business for them, which bore little meaning to anyone here. Several people in line had these. "That doesn't get you anywhere, sir," she continued, "I'm afraid you'll still have to..." Her words slowed down as he reached out for the signet again. Twisting it with a finger, the signet dawned black wings and a dark mask in the middle. This was the signet of a recruiter from House Yimar, more specifically. Even accomplished businessmen like Grim knew better than to leave these men waiting at the door to their establishments. Not mentioning the possibility of a profitable sale, there might be no door the next day. The receptionist knew the signet, and quickly looked up, with a hand in front of her lips. The few costumers around, who could see the signet, quickly looked away, signing to any of their friends who might still be complaining, to shut up. "I.. I am so sorry, sir. Step right through the doors on either side," she said, apologizing without stopping. "I didn't mean t.." She stopped appologicing, since the red eyed man had already picked up his signet, and head straight towards the stairs to the, so called, 'DUNGEON'. The man's red eyes, scanned the room he entered, once reaching the bottom of the stairs. The eyes narrowed slightly, as he clawed his right hand in front of himself. His fingers stretched, bent and twitched, as he concentrated on his task at hand. Focusing on his powers, he became blind to everything else. He just saw the force. There were several signs of it. Pathetic twingles of it, in lesser creatures, such as Bounty Hunters, and Mercenaries. These people were possibly exceptional at their jobs, because of this twingle, but certainly not what he was looking for. This scene, was not the red eyed man's scene. The music was enjoyable, but the crowd was appalling. Stretching his neck, the red eyes narrowed and stared towards the stage. The man cursed his luck, realizing the subject was a performer, rather than a server. These were always overpriced, and the owners often had to be pushed towards the sale. The realization struck like a brick, as his eyes fell upon the main singer of this hour. The red eyes narrowed slightly, realizing just how unlucky he might've gotten this night. The poster girl of Club LUSH, was force sensitive. Rank one, on Yimar's personal graph. The highest potential. A hidden gem, in a sea of pebbles and boulders. The red eyes calmed slightly, as they focused on the singer's eyes His expression was quite emotionless, but the eyes were cold. Her dance was seductive. Mesmerizing. Her beauty pristine. Untouched. But the voice. The voice was enthralling. Captivating. The red eyed man was drawn in, and kept him in his place. He should be on his way to Grim's table, but he was stunned. Never had his step failed him. His determination never waned. His resolve never broken. But this night, a voice left Trak breathless. Lost, in the beautiful voice, and dance, of this performer. The emotionless black ocean, that was Trak's mind, was tainted in red by unwanted thoughts, as well as memories. Things long since forgotten, and buried behind a shield of discipline, and training. All of this, was not apparent in the Chiss' face. Emotionless and cold, it stared at the performer, as she seduced his mind to feelings unbeknownst to him now. As the song changed mood, the red eyes narrowed slightly, as they traveled to the performer's own purple eyes. As they did, their gaze interlocked, and Trak's face calmed. No longer emotionless, but instead moved by the singer's song. Trak didn't look away from her eyes, even for a second. The glowing red eyes on his blue face would still feel as cold and glaring as ever, as Trak stood motionless on the dance floor. People around him danced and cheered with the song, but the black-robed man remained still. Just staring. Reaching out with his eyes, as she sang her song of desperation. Trak frowned, as the performer was swallowed by smoke, and he remained where he stood. To him, this was not just a symbol of her being swallowed by the taint she was already chained to. This symbolized what -he- was here to do to her. What -he- had done to so many before. Tossed them to the wolves. To be swallowed by a darkness most corrupting. A fate, he knew the course of. Death or torture. There were just those two in the Sith Academy. Trak breathed heavily through his nose, as the voice rang again, the red eyes staring for the performer's but never found them. Instead, found her surrounded by him. Trak's face ticked with realization, closing his eyes as he turned his face away, shaking his head. What had she done to him? Why was this affecting him this way? As the performer was suspended into the air, carried above the crowd, lifeless. Her death, by his hand. The red eyes followed the still woman, as she was carried right above him. Sadness, was apparent in his face, as he watched the lifeless body of the woman above him, sneering silently. And as the woman was released, Trak's arms moved in front of himself, as if he prepared himself to catch the woman. Should she open her eyes, he would be unmistakable. Right below her. Had she been just a little further down, their noses would have met. But instead, his eyes just stared up at her, his arms finally dropping down by his side. It felt like an eternity, staring at the performer, before his arm instinctively grabbed at the Cathar by his side's shirt, pulling him close. "Grim's table..."Trak demanded, the Cathar only complaining until he heard the demand. This was an interaction no sane person would want to get between, so the man quickly pointed towards the area Grim would be. While talking and listening, Trak never looked away from the performer, and her eyes, should she be looking at him. Only when guided did he look briefly towards Grim's table, before back on the performer. The red eyes narrowed slightly, seemingly in disdain, before Trak pushed the Cathar away and headed straight for Grim's table. "I wish to speak with Grim immediately."Trak's voice was demanding and imposing as he approached Grim's table or office.

ENDURE AND SURVIVE - The Last Of Us Ellie had hoped for some semblance of relief when she reached San Francisco. She hoped she could move through the city quietly, peacefully, and quickly. But no. Another city, another abandoned Quarantine Zone, another gang of assholes. The young woman vaulted into the nearby window, bullets flying over her head, she had to act fast. She pulled out her 9mm and turned to face the Hunters as they chased after her. She pulled the trigger, watching his head pop like a melon, before executing his buddy in the same fashion. More were coming, though. Her finger pressed tightly on the trigger again...and 'click'. "Oh shit." Empty. Her last rounds gone. Had she been smarter, she would have kept track of her ammo and avoided this mess. It was too late now. She had to run. These assholes had her partner, and there was no way she'd get her back without gunning them down. To buy herself precious time, she lit the rag of a Molotov cocktail and threw it, covering the entrance in flames before sprinting out of there, down a dimly lit hallway. Scavenging whatever she could find on the way to safety, she escaped from the Hunters' sight, finding a room well out of their patrol routes to rest. Closing the door quietly, she walked slowly to the window, staring out longingly with a desperate glare. "Emma..." Her fingers traced over the glass and she let out a defeated sigh. "Where are you?" Ellie fell back onto a soft and comfortable bed, letting her eyes flutter shut, clutching the switchblade in her hand before slowly drifting off to sleep.

Curtis smirked to himself, watching the teenager enter the nearby abandoned building. He had been watching her for a few hours, ever since he captured another pretty girl. This one seemed a lot duller in her beauty, yet her fiery attitude attracted him to her for some reason. Knowing he needed this girl for his collection, he waited for exactly twelve minutes before entering the building, convinced that she was still inside and now relaxed. What he found was an extremely relaxed girl, so relaxed indeed that she was asleep. Smiling at the switchblade, he slowly slipped it from her grasp, as anyone asleep could not properly hold a weapon. Sliding it in his pocket, Curtis pulled out a plastic bag and slipped it over the girl's head, suffocating her. Sitting on her body, his weight was enough to prevent her moving, his knees on her shoulders pinning her down. When she eventually passed out from lack of air, Ellie was taken from this building into Curtis' own home. Wrists tied behind her back, the unconscious Ellie would remain that way for another hour. When she eventually awoke, she would find two strange things. The first was an aching ass hole, which was also strangely wet. The second was her friend, Emma Watson, naked and on her stomach. She also had her hands behind her back, and with a face full of semen. Both girls were naked and alone, tied up in a cell with no way to escape.

Two months ago... The townsfolk cheered and roared in joy as their new champion, Sinvious Dawnguard held onto his scarf as his icy blue eyes wandered over the crowd. Holding his sword tightly, he looked at the portal that was now before him. "As your new champion," he said, "I shall return victorious where no other champion has before me!" He roared as he unsheathed his sword and held it high into the air. This caused the townsfolk to cheer even louder as their words could be heard throughout the entire town. "Sinvious! Sinvious the champion will save us all!" they cheered as Sinvious had lowered his sword and then rushed towards the portal before entering into the new world. Current day: Sinvious stood inside his makeshift cabin and looked outside through the kitchen window as he prepared his small meal. "Gonna need to explore again soon," he said, "but this time I think I'm ready for the mountains today." He grinned as he ate his meal. Sure, he could have gone back to Tel'Adre and bought some food, but he wanted to earn it and save his gems for when he really needed them. Yes, he was a cheapskate when it came to that, but gems were hard to get at times so he did whatever he had to to get them. After his meal, he grabbed his sword and scarf and left for the mountains. He managed to beat a few imps on the way and even some Cerberus before coming across a hidden path that had something that caught his eye. "I wonder what's going on over here..." he whispered to himself as he made his way around the back behind the demons and then came across strange cages that were mostly covered, but what freaked him out was there was moaning coming from them. Before he could react or do anything, he felt something heavy hit the back of his head, and he passed out. Hours later... When Sinvious finally woke up, he found his hands bound and couldn't speak due to the ball-gag in his mouth. He looked around at his prison cell and noticed there were typical bars but a small barred window that was too high for him to reach even if he had the use of his hands. His eyes shifted around the dark room before pausing at the bars to his prison. "I wonder who's here," he thought as he heard footsteps coming his way.

A succubus walked up to the bars, shaking her heavy, bare tits, looking him over. "Good morning, slut," she said, flapping her wings as she entered his cell. "It's time to give me breakfast, stud. That's all you humans are good for.

The first day of class was officially in session at the sound of a shrill bell that rang through every corridor and room of the prestigious academia. Twenty or so students were already in their seats, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their homeroom instructor who was to assign each of them their Pokmon companion for an entire year, or possibly more. The teacher, who also doubled as a Pokmon researcher in her spare time, entered the classroom carrying a covered basket that was undoubtedly filled to the rim with Pok Balls. The red-and-white design of the contraptions glimmered through the cracks, each Pok Ball sheltering a random Pokmon that was soon to be a student's roommate and possible friend for the rest of the semester. Just minutes after the bell rang, the professor centered the basket on top of her front podium and settled the rowdy classroom with a clap of her hands. "Hello," she greeted with a youthful, exuberant smile that belied her old age. "My name is Professor Willow. I will be your homeroom instructor for the rest of the year. I had each and every one of you fill out a brief information sheet and check off an attendance list this morning, so we won't go through an official roll call." Even she was aware that all the students were not interested in passing around classroom syllabuses and discussing boring classroom procedures. What they were interested in was the basket on top of her desk. "Instead, I'll call your names and the type of Pokmon you have been assigned for the rest of the year," she explained, causing a clamor in the classroom as she picked up the first Pokball in her hand. "The partner assignments are random, so I hope that all of you will try your hardest to master the elemental type of your Pokmon. Who knows? You may even come to become a type specialist like some famous Gym Leaders." She tossed the first Pokball onto the ground and it split open to reveal a Poochyena Pokboy. "Lilly Lee," the instructor called the Pokmon's partner by her full name, summoning the shy girl to the front of the classroom. "Your partner will be a Poochyena, a Dark type Pokemon. Poochyenas are known for their tenacious nature." She added tips and bits of information to each and every Pokmon's introduction to rouse the interest of her students, which she succeeded in doing. She came to the twelfth name on the roster and bounced another Pokball from the tips of her fingers. This time, a Glaceon appeared in a blink of red light, her sleepy gaze turning towards the classroom once the glimmering aura faded. The professor called the name of a male student to the front, much to everyone's disappointment who wasn't called to claim the rare Pokemon. "You're very lucky," Professor Willow told him. "Only twelve percent of Glaceons are born female in the wild. Why don't you say hello to your new partner, see if she likes you?" It was the moment everyone held their breath for. Some students had already experienced the humiliating moment of being rejected by their Pokmon in front of the classroom. One Helioptile had scoffed in disgust by her assigned tamer and returned to her Pokball, leaving the student embarrassed and with an aggressive Pokgirl under his care.

Red was still finding it hard to believe where he was, even if he'd officially moved his stuff into his dorm room the day before. It was a long ways from Pallet Town, after all. And before this he'd been a public school sort of kid. Everything was new to him. Even the air smelled different, somehow. Not even the explanation of what, exactly, went into taming a Pokegirl could keep down his excitement. Somehow he'd managed not to pick up on just how much sex was going to be involved (maybe they didn't want children knowing about it?). His face still burned if he brought up memories of that rather frank orientation. But, being a red-blooded young man, he'd be lying if he said it didn't make him at least a little excited for entirely different reasons. So, like most of the students in the room, Red was practically on the edge of his seat. He'd brought out a pen and notebook in case he needed to take notes, but found himself drumming the pen on his desk in an antsy, rhythmless manner. He didn't notice the glares his nearest neighbors were shooting him. He didn't even notice the smug, shit-eating grin his rival Blue shot him after randomly drawing a Charmander, one of the most coveted starters in Kanto. Instead, Red was totally engrossed in daydreaming about what sort of partner he would be given. Someone beautiful? Someone strong? What if he got randomly paired with a Pokeboy?What if he was like Helioptile Guy? Before his racing thoughts could carry him down any stranger paths, he heard his name being called. He jumped, just a little, as if startled...and that was when he saw her. She couldn't keep his eyes off her as he made his way up to the front of the room. She was obviously some sort of Eevee (the diamond-shaped ears were a dead giveaway), but one he'd never seen before. Kanto's temperate climate didn't bless it with a variety of Ice-types. The young man that stood before Glaceon was lean and athletic, the sort of build that naturally came from living in a remote town where one walked or biked everywhere. Though he was wearing the dark-colored men's uniform, he also wore, somewhat contrarily, a red baseball cap. Underneath the cap's brim was a mop of somewhat unruly brown hair and a fairly ordinary-looking face, but for the earnestness that practically radiated from his brown eyes. He'd stayed up late the night before trying to come up with a cool line, but nothing came to him. That just wasn't his style. So instead he favored her with an easy smile as he held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Red. Nice to meet you, partner." Red was somewhat unprepared for the encounter. He hadn't quite grasped that, in some ways, he nowownedthis girl. But he could relate to the idea of making a new friend, at least. Even if it was a friend with benefits, a traitorous part of his mind whispered.

An entire island had gone under within a matter of days. The Sin, the driving force which had supposedly been defeated by the Summoner and her Guardians, had reappeared, driving a new wave. This wave seemed to be surging stronger, as if driven by some new force or desire. Had Sin risen again? The rumors began to fly, particularly as not a single survivor has escaped from the island. Already something of a quarantine had been established, and it almost seemed to have worked. That the creatures also would have to cross the Thunder Plains likely helped matters further. This was nothing more than a temporary solution: a quarantine, not a cure. Somehow they would have to go to the source, to determine what was truly working within this strange island. Which is how Yuna found herself equipping a Gunner's dress sphere as she looked down at the island below. Her mismatched green and blue eyes narrowed as she took in the teeming masses. The landscape appeared dotted with the creatures, nearly swarming. How had they possibly let it get this far? Even from her position far above the place, Yuna could feel just how... wrong it all was. It made her rub her arms, barely suppressing a shudder. She longed for her Aeons, wishing she could call upon their help. The guns she had upon her holsters felt paltry in comparison. Yuna, Rikku, and possibly the new girl, Paine, would land in a team together, with several others staying on the ship. Originally there had been protests about letting the ex-summoner, one of the saviors of Spira, enter such a dangerous place. Yuna had been quick to point out that it was because of her position that she needed to go. Rikku had been equally adamant, and others had backed their skill. Dress-spheres would substitute for Aeons, and the girls would all be equipped with communication spheres for the moment they hit trouble. It should be an easy enough mission. If anything grew too awful, they were to retreat. Yuna nodded, stood up, brushed off her knees, feeling proud at not flushing at the slightly revealing outfit any more. Her Gunner garb certainly bared more skin than her Summoner's robes. It felt freeing... but also embarrassing, a point Rikku had hammered home with numerous quips about Yuna's "perky little butt." The Gunner took her position beside her cousin, who was already humming and swaying on her feet. She nodded, hearing Rikku already speaking about YRP being ready for position. Then everything went wrong. The ship shook. Red sirens flashed. Yuna lunged, missing a railing by inches. The landing pod they were supposed to use broke off in an instant. Yuna felt the world falling around her, the technology barely keeping them from simply plummeting. Even as it was, they hit hard, hit hard and... and separated? Yuna couldn't tell. Everything had blurred for her, and, dazed, she found herself stumbling free from the pod. At least she hadn't lost enough of her innate life force to show wounds; she could check that on display spheres. But the pod... the pod looked worse for wear. And Rikku was no where in sight. "Hello?" Yuna said, touching her communication sphere. "Hello, can anyone hear me? I'm alright..." she paused as the sphere produced a fuzzy image. Something like voices fizzled on the other end for several seconds, before nothing but snow filled the sphere. Sighing, Yuna closed her eyes, sinking to her knees. She could feel the ground below scuffing against her, and she felt like simply letting the despair wash over her. However, a sound caught her attention. A gun flew into her hand and she rolled, the long tail of chestnut hair flying about her. Those multicolored eyes narrowed as she sighted down the barrel, hesitating for a moment, uncertain if she'd be meeting a fiend or had already relocated one of her friends, if they'd even come down to this accursed place with her. Just that moment of hesitation. Just... a moment.

He had long ago forgotten his name. Even before the single Sinscale had attached itself to his dying body, the pain and the suffering had been all he had known for sometime. He had a pleasant childhood and a loving family, but he was unlucky enough to be born in a certain village that practiced a certain tradition right around the time he was coming into maturity. The villagers would proclaim one of their own as the Avatar of Sin and endlessly torture said Avatar, unloading all of their pent up anger, evil and sins onto the unlucky soul. He had been that unlucky person and as had been tradition, his body had been preserved through magic so they could continue to torture and torment him, his soul not allowed to leave his body. Simply put, he was unable to die. However, once Sin had been defeated by Yuna and her friends, his fellow villagers decided to take pity on him and slowly allow him to die. Just as he was about to embrace death however, that final Sinscale had attached itself to him. It had been drawn to him like a moth to a flame; drawn to his suffering and his longing to cleanse the world. Once attached, it was all Sin needed to reform itself. However, it would soon find that its new host had quite a more powerful mind than Yu Yevon. His suffering and torture had given him a mind of steel that even Sin could not overpower. Thus, a more frightening creature had been born. A creature that had all the power and control of Sin, but the intellect and cunning of a human mind. This new version of Sin soon restarted its goal of consuming humanity, but it quickly realized that so long as Yuna and her friend were around....Sin could be defeated again. Thus it began to plot and plan, it needed to lure Yuna and her friends to it and then separate them. Together they were too strong, but isolated...they could be defeated and corrupted in turn. That was the trap Yuna and the others had fallen into. Once the ship was close enough, Sin had used its control of gravity to pull their ship down, making sure to scatter the pods as far from each other as possible. Once that was done, its focus turned towards Yuna. The more human side of Sin now took over as he began to stalk the girl in the form of a humanoid-shaped shadowy void. He waited until he sensed the slight moment of hesitation from the girl; it was enough of a moment to strike. Four tentacle-like tendrils shot out from the void and lashed out at Yuna, striking at her hands and wrist to knock the guns out of her hands. Two of the tendrils wrapped around her ankles and two of them around her waist, immobilizing her as they rose in the air, suspending her a few feet above the ground. "Yuuuunaaaaaa" A voice emerged from the void as a mouth appeared on the void, flashing what could only be described as a sinister smile. The voice itself was an amalgamation of every voice she had ever heard before; all of them together in a chaotic and pained way. One stood out though, and in a painful irony, it was the voice of Tidus. The void approached Yuna, its mouth opened and a long amphibious tongue uncoiled itself. "Yuna...my destroyer, my creator, my foe and my lover...you are all these things to me" The voice chuckled as the tongue slowly licked up her neck and cheek, brushing briefly over her lips as it coated her skin in a slimy drool. The tendrils around her wrists and ankles tightened to insure she could not escape. Its hand reached forward and slowly groped one of her lovely breasts through her Gunner top. "So pure....and innocent. I will corrupt you until your mind is only full of lustful and sinful desires." The voice issued a booming laugh as it squeezed her breast harder, waiting to see how she would react.

Ganondorf entered the royal wing of Hyrule Castle with an exhausted sigh. He had just gotten done inspecting and drilling the new combined army of Hyrule which had come to include his original Gerudo forces as well as the original Hyrule army. It had been hard, but even since he and Zelda had been married, the two cultures were slowly but sure starting to meld together rather than fight and bicker. This was encouraged in a state that was rapidly becoming more militaristic and less peaceful due to Ganondorf's ambition. Much like the Kingdom itself, his marriage to Zelda had its ups and downs. There were actual moments of passion and intimacy between them, but there were also conflicts and misunderstandings. It made for a turbulent but at times exciting marriage. "Zelda...where are you?" Ganondorf's powerful voice rang out through the Royal Quarter. It was forbidden for anyone except the royal couple to be in here unless they were a servant performing a duty, so it was normally empty. There was their bedroom, a large bathroom with hot spring, and a large study/lounge room for them to enjoy. He hung his cloak up on a nearby rack as he waited for his wife to come out and greet him.

Zelda sighed upon hearing her husband's booming voice, though she stood up anyway from her vanity and greeted him with a smile nonetheless. "I am right here, Ganondorf," she said curiously. It was clear that she had retired early today, as she was not wearing her normal, decorative hair pieces nor her crown. Her corset was already unlaced, indicating that soon she was about to change into more comfortable clothing. They had just started sharing a room together, truthfully it took months for her to trust him enough to not slit her throat in her sleep. Despite all the times they had made love, she still didn't feel quite comfortable, for Ganondorf was a large, hulking creature of a man and sometimes his temper got the better of him, and it scared her. However, she had seen other sides of him as well that indicated that he was not as evil as he made himself out to be in the past. He was ambitious, vengeful, yes, but...not evil.

The World of Tolkien A brief introduction to the planet: Tolkien is a swampy and densely forested wetland planet part of the Mid Rim Systems. The terrain itself is divided unevenly between different races within the Orc species. Within each race, there are tribes and clan leaders and differentiating cultural norms. However, one norm stays consistent throughout the entire planet - the more boorish looking you are, the more attractive and powerful you can become. A native species labeled under the umbrella term "Orcs" are the dominant creatures that inhabit this large and mysterious planet. Tolkien is ruled primarily between four main breeds of Orcs: Goblins, Gorguns, Uruks, and Orgres. Goblins inhabit the Northlands. They are smaller in stature, averaging around 5 to 6 feet in height. They are mostly hairless and bald, and have long pointed ears and sharp noses. They are sneaky in nature; known as the tricksters of the Tolkien realm. They make up for their physical inferiority through their cunning inventions and intelligent pawns. They are currently lead by Gortru the Dementor. Gorgunsihabit the Westlands - the biggest territory. They are the strongest of the races, physically. Though, they are not always the best masterminds. They are often out-smarted by Goblins, who although are weaker in stature, are innovative and therefore challenging to defeat. Gorguns' are defined by their big tusks, massive muscular bodies and big heads. They have small eyes that are normally spread apart, and most carry varying shades of green or brown skin with or without patterned markings. They are currently ruled by King Barok and his monarchy, the biggest enemy of Gortru. Uruk's inhabit the Eastlands and other scattered colonies. They possess a unique physical trait; they have black or dark brown skin and long, dread-locked black hair. They are defined by their face paint and exceptional battle techniques. They are the fiercest warriors in the lands, and a large population of them are military nomads. They are the scavengers of Tolkien using their ferocity to exploit the planet's resources and take what they want. Although they are similar in stature to Goblins, they are the most vicious and blood thirsty of all the races. They have the smallest population, and are variously scattered across the Four Lands. Ogres inhabit the Southlands, which consists of mainly sludge-filled trenches and not much greenery. They are the largest of the four races, towering at upwards of 9 feet tall; though, they are the dumbest. They have the biggest feet, the fattest stomachs, and the hardest swing, but the smallest of brains of the Orc species. They are the most primitive in nature, often fighting over stupidities among each other and constantly brawling. Because there are so many physical altercations, Ogres are typically seen with many scars (more than the average battle wounds). They are often called Trolls, though that is considered a derogatory term to Ogres. Although each breed and separate kingdom possesses their own plot of territory, the Four lands are not divided evenly and are constantly changing. There is a on-going war primarily between the Goblins and the Gorguns, but also occasionally with the Uruks who are nomadic in nature and have set up colonies throughout ALL Four Lands. Aside from inter-breed turmoil, the nations are also plagued with civil war - many different tribes within singular breeds that form to attempt to take power. Because the Orcan civilization is so power hungry and violent, the planet faces constant warfare and chaos. At My Mercy Draped from head to toe, I was virtually unrecognizable among an ocean of raging Orcs. Nothing but my crystalline silver eyes remained definitive under my hood and veiled mask. I stood silently and obediently by the side of my masters; the King and Queen of the Mortus earldom. Although they sat comfortably, slouched in their tooth-embellished high chairs, I stood short two feet; inferior by their sides. With nothing but a platter of hog flesh ready at their disposal, I was nothing more than a decoration to them; barely a servant among their dozens of slaves. To the outside world, I acted as a symbol of the power of the Mortus monarchy. I was a prime example of the cruelties of the nation, both brute and barbaric in nature. Completely covered in drab rags and a sac over my head that spared only my eyes, I was deemed too frail for this population to look upon. To punish me for my physical differences, I was enslaved and ridiculed. For I was deformed, and I was ugly. As stormtroopers scoped the densely forested marshlands, there was virtually no sign of any living creature, much less an intellectual race. There were only bugs, and many of them; insects the size of Coruscant rats that flooded the humid atmosphere. There was a misty fog that rose several feet high from the swamps, making it difficult to see with enough clarity. Despite reduced visibility, there was one thing that guided the troops through the smog, and that was the sound of a muffled chanting. It was a combination of sounds that were hard to distinguish, though they were evidently coming from the near-distance. The distorted voices lead the scouts through the fog, and out towards a growing bright white light. The light shed from an opening in the forest. The further they traveled over the uneven crater grounds, the louder the voices appeared. Shortly, the troopers met the end the woods to a small splitcanyon. As they passed through it to meet the light, the opening revealed a heightened view. The scouts' boots now licked the edge of a cliff - the precipice diving down to form a large crater in the earth. The pit in the terrain was evidently formed from a past meteorite strike, though, the hole had been transformed into something much, much more. "Civilization has been established, Lord. You'vegotto see this." The crowd cheered over and over again, sitting and standing encircled on the numerous stone steps of the coliseum. The battle arena was recycled from a crater in the surface of Tolkien, one that was big enough to fit a sizable ship. "MADMOCK! MADMOCK! MADMOCK!" The arena was packed with thousands of Orc-looking creatures that all stood and chanted with their fists up in the air. The ruckus came from not only their loud cries but also from the clanging of their axes and other weapons. The monstrous beings smacked their swords on shields, their axes against axes, and their other weapons against the cold stone seats below them. They had erupted into excitement, all of their eyes deadlocked on one specific target: an Orc male standing nearly 9 feet in height. He was exceptionally large, even bigger than the other Orcs that egged him on as he brooded over his victim. Madmock was massive, though, he was disfigured - leaning over with a big hunch and a twisted spine. He saw only from one eye, and he was pale; almost as white as a ghost while the other Orcs carried varying shades of green and brown to their skin. He had no tusks, like the others, and his skull was pieced together; indication of past physical trauma. Although he wore spiked armour, he needed only his heightened strength to force any being into submission. For the unfortunate female powerless at his total whim, she stood no chance. Although she screamed bloody murder as he scooped her naked body up into his arms, her smaller frame was destroyed as he took her from behind; completely defiling her femininity. She shrieked as her lower lips tore to her colon - a cry for help that echoed for miles and miles. I cringed, turning my head slightly to the side as my master, King Barkok, burst out in laughter as the slave Orc girl screamed. He cheered on the creature he had trained as nothing more than a pet. Madmock, they called the monster.Madmock the Defiler. I could barely stomach the scene as I watched him nearly split her insignificant frame in two. Although she was a slave, she was a friend - and she ended up in this arena as a result of her supposed betrayal to the King.Treason- in this kingdom, it was punishable by sexual humiliation, degradation, anddeath. Madmock, the defiling mega-Orc who proceeded to rape the slave repeatedly, was a celebrity in the twisted minds of this society. He was big, muscular, and ruthless. Although he was famous, he was still a product owned by the King. Madmock was intellectually disabled, and often uncontrollable. As a result, the King kept him chained from the waist down - allowing his only outward movement to be within the confines of this arena. At the end of the defiling, he would retreat to his underground prison where he would continue to rot. He, too, was a decoration. The slave's wailing ceased. Her voice's silence was indicative of her death. Turning my head back around to face reality, she lay lifeless on the ground, her head crushed in the jaws of the monster as she bled out over the battle grounds. Enough ejaculate to fill a woman a dozen times over again now remained spewing out of her and onto the ground. The crowd went wild. Alas, the enemy had been punished, and the beast felt his unfathomably vicious urges met. However, the beast in my eyes was not Madmock, it was King Barkok. The man was cruel in ways that could be imagined. Although this scene was gruesome, it did not match the cruelty many faced, including and especially myself, at the hands of his mastery. Thinking all of this was over, I breathed a deep sigh of relief; wanting to retreat back to the shack I called home. However, the King had a different idea. He stood from his throne, advancing to the very edge of his platform as he reached out his hands to speak to his people. "My fellow Gorguns...!" He announced to the crowd, his deep rumbling voice traveling throughout the coliseum to silence his followers. "For many months, the Goblins have been gaining advantageous information. For many months, the Goblins have had the upper hand against the fight for these lands. But now... This favor ENDS NOW!" There were grunts throughout the Orcs in agreement and triumph. "The snitch has finally been disposed of..." He waved towards the decapitated slave. "... But the justice does not end here." The King's first lady motioned for me to serve the King. Confused, I moved forward anyway with the tray and greeted the King by his side. "THERE IS A SECOND FINK!" The area was filled with gasps. My eyes widened slightly as the information even shocked me. "And she stands here among us. She stands here... beside us." His head slowly turned to face me. "WHAT!?No!" My fingers loosened around the tray and it fell from my hands. It crashed against the stone floors at my feet, but before I had a chance to defend myself, King Barkok grabbed my upperarm and tossed me over the balcony. He snatched the material from the cloak which veiled my entire body. As I was sent overboard, I screamed and plummeted onto the platform several feet below. Raising my head after the fall, I lay sprawled like a broken woman as the crowd flared into anger. Raising my head from my compromised position, I looked upon the ground surrounding me to find complete and utter disgust."She's hideous!""Burn it with fire!" "Kill the betrayer!" Madmock the Defiler licked his blood-stained lips as he approached me. I was even tinier than the last thin slave. And like him, I was pale - completely discolored in the eyes of Gorguns. I panicked at the whim of this monster as I faced completely false accusations at the hands of the King. I turned around, looking up at him as I peeled my remarkably thin frame off the ground. Why had the King forsaken me? The Queen looked down upon me like I was filth; her wife at her side sneering with the most evil and sadistic of smiles as she glared down at me. This was surely her idea. I could see it in her face. She had grown too jealous of her husband's favoring of me. If there was anyone who would frame me, it was certainly her. "I have placed our enemy where she belongs, Iron Hoard!" He shouted out to the scalding Gorguns. "On her knees! ... At our mercy!!!!" While the crowd went wild, Madmock sprinted into pursuit - beelining right for me with the most savage look in his eyes. "No, no!" I bounced up from my knees, scrambling in the opposite direction as to get away from this raging beast. But, on foot, I stood no chance; I was no match. Within moments he snatched me with one hand, instantly moving the other to tear off the single-rag of clothing that hid my entire body. With one quick pull, the entire robe tore to pieces, leaving me bare in front of him in nothing but a skimpy, provocative slavebikini. Madmock licked his chapped lips, his eyes filling with desire as he slithered out his slime-ridden tongue and rolled it over the side of my face like an animal. I squirmed and groaned in his grasp. "You disgusting pig-" Before he could make any further violations, my hand dropped to my pelvis. Tucked away in the strap of my bikini bottoms, buried nearly between my legs, was a hand-held blade. King Barkok subsequently spotted the concealed weapon, and jutted out forward with his hands outreached. There was immediate panic within him. "MADMOCK-!" He shouted out, helpless and nearly whimpering and he felt the impending doom of his beloved pet. Within a split second, I drew the dagger from my hip and swung it around as hard as I could. I aimed for the one target I knew I could hit - his face. Before Madmock could even fathom the danger to come, the sharp jagged end of the knife slammed right into his only-functioning eyeball. The creature shrieked, taking an unbalanced step back as the blade sunk so deep into his socket, it struck his brain. He wailed as the pain consumed him, no longer able to focus on the target before him. His grip around my waist loosened and I slipped right out of his palms. Although the jab at his eye did not kill him, it did however slow him down. Far most, it blinded him completely, allowing me an advantage against this boorish creature nearly twice my height and 4 times my mass. "No!!!" The King cried out, but it was too late. I already had the advantage. The moment I hit the ground, I sprung into action. In such a dire situation, adrenaline pumped through my veins, allowing me the stamina to do what I had to do. If I were to survive this hell hole, I needed to defile the defiler - and I had no time to waste. Without a second to spare, I lunged toward one of the many chains that held him to this arena. Gripping the heavy metal with two hands, I began to run around Madmock - encircling his legs and tangling him in chains as he held his face. Bleeding profusely, he remained blind, confused and dazed. I grabbed more chains, throwing them around his arms and running around him again to further mesh him in his own restraints. Finally, I grabbed one of the thinner, loose chains and used all of my inferior might to toss it over his head and noose it around his neck like a rope. Grunting out at the top of my lungs, I pulled as hard as I could on the chains, knocking the beast off balance and causing him to begin to wobble. Seeing this minute victory, I took a deep breath and shouted, "I will place your beast where he belongs!" The King, completely wide-eyed and jaw-dropped, leaned over the banister to witness this historical take down. With a single, heavy-handed haul, I used all of my weight and adrenaline to register and devastating blow. I ripped Madmock right off of his feet, the strain on his neck from the pulling rendering him unsteady. I screamed, keeping a strong hold on the chains as he came tumbling down. Madmock collapsed onto his shins, moaning as he struggled to squirm his way out of the net I had created from chains. Regardless of his failed attempts, I threw myself onto his back and looked up at the King with a most devious frown. Hovering my hand over the blade that still protruded from the creature's terminated eye, I finished my maxim. Snatching the dagger right from his socket, I slammed the weapon right into the monster's jugular. There was a shriek beyond volumes - echoing with fury several miles out; Madmock's last yell sounding more like a demon's roar than it did a cry. Within seconds, the beast's squirms began to cease. His body withered underneath mine, as the battle arena's floor became stained with the pool of the Defiler's spilling blood. "... On his KNEES!" I shouted out, my voice so intense in its delivery echoed throughout the arena. "... At...MY... mercy!!!"The crowd went silent.

Deep below the arena, within a small cell made of three walls of stone and one wall of iron, with a heavily armored guard wielding a morning star outside sat a lone human among two dozen orcs also in the cage... "Outlander" they called him, the few other non-orcs there referred to him as "Offworlder" though his name was not important. Months in the cage had left his skin pale, his eyes sunken, his head bald exposing intricate patterns of tattoos across the top of his head. He leaned against the rear stone wall, his knees pressed up to his chest, his wrists laying on his knees with his hands hanging down. As the crowd above went silent and the echoes ceased, so too did the chattering of the imprisoned cease, till finally, from a young male, barely a teenager next to the human whispered "Madmock... dead?" Soon these words were echoed by others, the human remained silent. The tone went from timid, fearful of saying those two words together, yet slowly, it became louder and louder, the inmates began stomping their feet in unison, in beat with the two-word chant "Madmock dead! Madmock dead!" The human however remained silent, yet not unmoving. Across his face, a grim smirk began to emerge, the human looked up, exposing his bright blue eyes to the small beam of light which penetrated into his cell... "Well well well..." He glanced to the guard as he slowly got to his feet, he walked to the bars and looked the guard in the eye: "I'd like to see the victor." The guard responded by slashing his morning star across the bars. "SIT DOWN!" he barked viciously. The human didn't budge. "I wish to see her... alone," he droned with a slight wave of his hand. The guard didn't obey, instead slashing his weapon across the bars again. "DOWN OR YOU'RE NEXT!" The human chuckled. "I'd like that, just say when," he said, turning back around and slumping down the bars, sitting like he was before. Under his breath, he let out a slight murmur: "Ikath mthaghn, Chulhuka faphn." He droned on in a tongue none other could understand. As the new prisoner was brought underground to the cells, bound and muzzled like a wild animal before the cages, the inmates began going wild, males reached out from their cells, mercilessly groping her as she was forced down the thin corridor between the cells. One would fondle her crotch while another pulled at the coverings over her breasts, yet no matter how much they attempted to violate her with their hands, she was forced to keep moving. Every time she slowed, she would be jabbed with the cold sharp steel of the guard's spear in her back, moving her ever towards the female cells. As she passed by the one with the human, he looked up to her, turning his head to face her and giving her a smile and a word: "You did good, kid." She didn't have time to respond as another orc male reached out through the bars, going straight under the cloth covering her ass and slipping a finger inside for a brief second. None of the other prisoners would be punished; after all, who cares if some slaves destined to die fighting each other decided to rape the new meat? If anything, that would just give the guards some entertainment. As they passed by one of the guards came up behind her, on his regular rounds, he almost whispered, "The outlander wants to see you." As soon as he said it, the other guard escorting her smacked him with the side of the spear: "What!? Why do you care?" The guard with the morning star shrugged and continued walking as if nothing had happened, yet clearly confused... why did he tell her that? Finally, they got past the male cages. Yet the female cages weren't much better; still, the hands shot through the bars, still she was groped, smacked, threatened to be raped. Now, however, the jeers and calls from other prisoners also included the prisoners calling her ugly and scum. Her cell was right at the end of the hall, a small cell on the right. In an act of small mercies, it was only inhabited by a single other inmate: another female with half her face covered in bandages, both of her legs severed at the knees, and one arm quite clearly torn from her shoulder by brute force. The new cellmate looked up: "So... you killed Madmock? Not bad for a disfigured little freak like you. If I still had my limbs, I'd probably kill you myself to show how weak that beast truly was. But as it is, I guess I should be thanking you.

The Story of Lu Bu, his role in tyranny, fall to faux humility and rise to power. Dong Zhuo was a name that was known across Han Dynasty. He was a politician, and unfortunately like a lot of politicians - he was a tyrant. A tyrannical leader who would burn cities to the ground in purpose of furthering his name and his renown. It was successful, since the year 189 he had been the Grand Councilor, the highest position in the Imperial Chinese Government. His found power didn't change him however, he didn't grow humble with his power just more desperate to keep hold of it, to keep hold of what he'd 'earned', rather, what those around him had earned. Dong Zhuo only surrounded himself with the best, it was a sure fire way to assume power. A term that would be coined over a thousand years later of gunboat diplomacy would be a term that could be used to describe the tyrant. Dong Zhuo would go as far as fostering the most powerful. Early in the year 190, Lu Bu, the strongest warrior in all the Han Empire had found himself betraying and murdering the minor warlord he served under and defecting to Dong Zhuo's central government. Lu Bu was interested in serving under someone as powerful as Dong Zhuo, rather than leaving himself to fester under the command of a minor warlord. While he wasn't impressed by Dong Zhuo's generals or plans, he certainly did find himself happy to be within a force powerful enough to contest any other in the Han Dynasty. It had been a year now, since he'd joined with Dong Zhuo after killing his former mentor, and Dong Zhuo's tyranny had not gone unnoticed in the land of the Han Dynasty. Yaun Shao, one of the major warlords in China had taken a notice to Dong Zhuo's tyranny and monopoly of the central government. Dong Zhuo played the dirty game, the emperor who'd served before Dong had even ascended to the role of Grand Councilor had been deposed and replaced with a puppet, and Yaun Shao wasn't blind, he'd noticed this change in the monarchy and was forming a coalition to deal with Dong Zhuo's iron fist rule over the Han Dynasty. Wang Yun's residence, six months before the death of Dong Zhuo. The sound was distinct in the mostly empty wooden room, the sound of liquid being poured into wooden cups as Wang Yun leaned across the table first to fill Lu Bu's cup with hot steaming herbal tea, before pouring himself a cup and lifting it to his lips. The cup returned to the small wooden table between the two men as Wang perused Lu Bu's appearance. The young man, at least in comparison to Wang, sat with one foot placed on the ground, knee by his face as he looked down at the steaming cup with a look of confusion..? No not quite right, deep thought on his face. Wang did not say anything, he just observed. He was a scholar, a politician if you must. Someone of similar import to Dong Zhuo, Lu Bu's adoptive father, in the Han Dynasty. He'd invited Lu Bu over to his residence this evening to start sowing the seeds of his careful thought out plan to bring down Dong Zhuo and restore some decency to the hierarchy of the Han Dynasty. Moments passed like minutes in the empty silence of the room. Lu Bu sat in a very distinct position, intentional so he could spring to his feet at a moment's notice should the need occur. In front of him sat the old man who'd called him here. The man was in his fifties, older even than Dong Zhuo. Lu had been there for five minutes now and only pleasantries had been exchanged between the two men. He was getting impatient; the tapping of his foot showed that. "What have you called me here for?" Lu Bu finally questioned the man, looking up from the steaming drink that Wang Yun had offered him. Wang had poured the drink from a single porcelain tea cup and poured himself one too. He'd drunk first, not noticeable to anyone who didn't care but something very important as it was Wang's way of saying 'I'm not trying to poison you.' The reason for the meeting was unknown to Lu Bu, and there was no solid ground for Wang to have even held the meeting in the first place. It was all just a small seed in the field that Wang needed to plant to bring down Dong Zhuo. "How does serving under Dong suit you? Master Lu Bu." Wang said looking up at the young man his hands cozy around the warm wooden cup that held his tea. "I get to fight," Lu Bu said, clenching his fist on his thigh as he moved from an almost crouched position into a cross-legged sitting position, leaning towards Wang Yun. "You should know I didn't come here for small talk; I came here to find out what you want and if you're going to play politicking games, I have no interest." Lu Bu pushed back against the small table before turning towards the door. Wang lifted a hand and tutted. "My apologies, Master Lu Bu. I of course do not mean to waste your time." Wang waited until he could see that Lu Bu was still interested. "Please," he said, gesturing to the cushion. "Sit." A slight smirk and smile appeared on his face as Lu Bu moved back to the small cushion he had been sitting on before, and sat down again. "I merely wanted to offer you a drink first before we discussed anything of import," Wang said, taking another sip from his cup. He let out a relieved sigh as he placed it back down on the wood. "But I see that tea is not your thing, of course not." Wang bowed his head slightly almost in apology. His acting was good; Lu Bu wouldn't suspect a thing. Wang snapped his fingers, giving the command for wine. The most important piece in the plan Wang Yun has conceived to bring down Dong Zhuo: a simple Song girl he had raised in his household like a daughter.

Men fought their battles in blood-soaked fields, and embattled courts. They fought with swords and spears and shields. Women fought with silks, ribbons and fans. Her battlefield was the bedroom. Her tactics were the evocative flick of her wrist, the sensuous twisting and twirling of her body, and the purposeful exposure of skin, just hinting at what lie under the color costumes she wore. Some might call her methods cowardly, or lacking in strength. They were not familiar with the strength of women. Standing in the hallway, Diao Chan prepared for battle. Tonight her weapon was a jug of wine, and her opponent was the mighty Lu Bu. It was a terrifying prospect for anyone, to have to face the mighty warrior in combat, but, in this arena, Diao could claim more experience and expertise than her opponent. She was waiting for a signal from her adopted father, and general in this case, and she had just received it. Possessing a supple dancer's body, strength hidden beneath the silky soft skin, she moved gracefully about the room, stepping lightly on delicate feet. Eyes down, she approached Lu Bu. She had heard his praises, of course. It was impossible to avoid the tales of his renown. Still, she was shocked by his stature. Nevertheless, she could not falter now. She bowed low before the man, pouring his wine on her knees, holding the cup in two hands up to him. If it please you, Master Lu Bu, she offered, her voice like freshly spun silk. She brought her eyes up to meet his now, the soft honey colored irises filled with warmth as she smiled. I don't believe you have met my adopted daughter, Wang Yun started, as Diao sat on her knees before the warrior, Diao Chan, the loveliest dancer and singer in the province. My foster father is too generous, Diao rebuked, looking down at her skirt demurely. She smoothed out a length of silk, before meeting Lu Bu gaze once more, I only hope I can please the Emperor, and his court. She will be traveling to the Imperial Court, Wang Yun explained, sipping at his own cup of wine, I do hope I can count on you to keep an eye on her?

Lorgar, Primarch of the World Eaters Legion stared down at the beauty of Old Terra, otherwise known as Earth. He was a servant of Chaos, a corrupting force that strove to devour and consume all living things until they were corrupted. Somehow, Lorgar and a handful of his closest Space Marines had found themselves thrown back in time to quite the early history of the homeworld of Humanity. To see Old Terra so pure and ripe for corruption filled Lorgar with a desire like that of an unquenchable thirst...a pure desire to ravage and taint. Still it was only him and his few Space Marines at the moment, and despite their power and near demi-god like abilities, they could not take on the entire population of Earth combined. Furthermore, Lorgar had seemed to have lost his connection to the Warp for now, leaving him unable to summon the Chaos Demons that would allow for the easy conquest and corruption of the planet. So for now, they planned a different way of conquest...one that was subtle and undetectable. He and his men would hunt down the champions of the planet and corrupt them from within...they would then have a much easier time corrupting all the denizens of the planet. Thus it was that they had found such champions and spirited her away to their flagship orbiting above the planet, its invisibility cloak active to avoid detection. She was suspended in midair with the power of Chaos, her wrists and ankles shackled with invisible bounds that were unbreakable. She was suspended to look out of the bridge of the dark and empty ship, the glow of the sun and the beauty of Earth present before her. "Beautiful, isn't? The glory of Old Terra?" Lorgar spoke, his voice eloquent and almost divine as he stepped forward from behind her. He removed his helmet to reveal a scarred but still beautiful face, with tanned skin, brown hair, and crew cut brown hair. For even in his corruption, he still bore the beauty of his original creator. "To think that such a beautiful woman would be a champion of the people...they are unworthy of your protection. You should be a trophy for my men instead." He chuckled as he reached out, his large and calloused hand groping at one of her breasts underneath her sailor uniform which still remained on her, but in tatters. His tongue emerged from his mouth and licked up her smooth and exposed neck up to her cheek. He seemed to let out a contented sigh, almost like he was tasting her...sampling her. "Yes...you will make a fine addition to our cause." He nibbled on her ear as he groped her breast harder now. Already, she could feel a strange sensation eating at her, the corrupting power of Chaos working on her, trying to influence her mind and desires; it was weak now, but the longer she remained, the stronger it would become.

Save the princess! Rei! Rei!!! REI!!! Usagi escaped. Ami and Minako and Makoto escaped. As long as her friends were safe, there was hope. Still, bound within the strange spaceship, overlooking the sun and Earth, alone with the fearsome leader of the monsters that attacked, Rei was scared. She may have been the reincarnated soul of an ancient sailor guardian, but she was also a sixteen year old girl. A sixteen year girl who had barely been further than kissing boys, and yet, she knew this would go far further than kissing. Already going further, as his rough hands groped her breasts. You may possess my body, but you will never possess my mind! Rei growled, defiant as she could be, in her given situation. The difference between them was staggering. Him, this large brute of a man, tan skin and short hair. Herself, a petite woman, with slender curves, long black hair and violet eyes. Her sailor fuku, which already covered very little, covered even less now that it was torn in places. Long lean legs were covered in scrapes and bruises, and she was still wearing her trademark red stilettos which made her costume seem sexy and ornamental. Wincing as his tongue traveled along her body. She could endure. She would endure. Her friends would find a way to overcome this evil, and she could go back to being a normal teenaged girl. Not that she was ever normal. All she could do now was bite her lip and clench her eyes shut, as this man prepared to have his way with her.

In the desert kingdom of Sarasaland lived a princess different than those in the Mushroom world. Unlike Peach and Rosalina who enjoyed a cup of tea early in the noon, Daisy was the one that liked to practice sports. It was going to be a typical day and today she decided to work on her soccer skills in the park next to a jungle forest. After donning her trademark striker outfit, Daisy bolted out the castle door. Of course none of the toads wanted to accompany her given the destructive habits Daisy was capable of with a soccer ball so she went out alone. In one of her warm-up practices, the princess kicked the ball so high it landed in the middle of the forest. She immediately darted into the jungle not knowing she was going to get lost. After running through and searching in vain, Daisy slumped against a palm tree sighing. "Well geez, where did it go? Shoot, I really gotta work on my kicks." she mumbled rubbing her chin. Decided not to waste the day, she got up and walked around a bit only to stop and realize "Oh heck, which way back to the park?" she wondered scratching her head like a dumbfounded idiot. Clearly she was lost yet was not alone. Stalkers followed the helpless Daisy from a distance and would soon make a strike when the opportunity was right.

A net suddenly dropped from the trees above her, entangling the princess. "Yes! Daddy will definitely let me go shopping after this!" Wendy walked out from the trees with a grin, her plump C-cups bobbing as she strutted out, her hands on her curvy hips. "Oh dammit, you aren't peach are you?" She pouted. "Well maybe I can hold you for ransom and go shopping with that." She muttered, walking slowly around Daisy. "So, which kingdom are you from anyway?

Life aboard the Normandy was better than most ships, it was a highly advanced model with many amenities that allowed for a comfortable living experience for all those aboard. There was also funding which gave the crew some of the finer things, and thus for the most part people were happy with their lot aboard the ship in space. However, that wasn't true of everyone. The high stress lifestyle caused a great deal of tension between many of the crew members, and with a mix of aliens and Cerberus operatives, two groups who ordinarily didn't mix, only more stress compounded. Miranda Lawson was one such crew member, someone who found her role quite stressful, though nobody would ever know it by looking at her; Miranda never looked anything more than calm and controlled. In fact, Miranda was a control freak and expected everything to go the way she wanted it to, which was generally the right way, at least to most people, and she generally got her way. One reason was her personality: She was highly intelligent, confident, and quite cold in order to maintain the superior image she had worked so damn hard to achieve. So while she found her role aboard the ship high-stress, she created the same feeling for many of the other people aboard the ship. One such person, and perhaps the person most disposed to blowing up in the presence of the Operative, was Jack, Jacqueline Nought. She was an individual that was more prone to blow up than anyone else, she hated Miranda, or at least seemed to, and with a decent mix of good reasons and nonsense. Jack by all accounts had a right to hate Cerberus; the organization had turned her from an innocent child into what she was today: Subject Zero, a name nobody dared call her but which summed up what had been done to her quite well. Jack had been put through countless unethical tests and trials to turn her into a killing machine, to advance her biotic ability and to twist and tear at every emotional pillar she stood upon. So when she exploded or got upset with Miranda there was little that could be done by anyone on the ship, especially with Miranda sticking to a firm policy that Cerberus was not at fault and that rogue scientists ruined her life; nobody could really be sure what was true. Their fights had caused much turmoil on the ship and there wasn't a moment where one of them wasn't ready to go for the other person's throat. Then again they had different approaches; Jack yelling and screaming while Miranda remained calm even in the midst of their arguments, which only served to further infuriate Jack most of the time. One such example of this was earlier that day when Jack busted into Miranda's office and demanded more than she had a right to, which by the end had turned into a biotic standoff where Miranda did what she always did - denied and refused to put fault on Cerberus. In the end it was Shepard who ended it but it was the worst of all the fights between Jack and Miranda and had Miranda frustrated beyond belief. For Miranda, frustration wasn't something to be shown in front of others; only in rare moments did she let any real emotion seep through and she had never truly relaxed with another person, ever. Sure there were moments where she would be more genuine than others but nothing else even close to having her guard down. So it wasn't until Jack had been done away with and Shepard left that she locked her door and went over to collapse in her chair. Her fingers pinched the bridge of her nose and a small growl of frustration escaped her lips. Shepard had scolded her before leaving, given her a little 'Would it be so bad to admit Cerberus fucked up?' before leaving her to her own thoughts. Miranda couldn't rebuke; there was no much to say when she had answers nobody else did, but her loyalties were to Cerberus and Jack was not someone she gave a damn about. Then again, the stress wasn't all Jack's fault; Miranda's job brought with it enough stress and responsibility to be manageable by only her alone, Miranda's superior genes and natural abilities making her solely capable of doing so much work for both Shepard and the crew as well as the work she was responsible for on command of The Illusive Man. Besides Miranda herself caused much of her stress and friction all on her own. She hadn't been with another person since before arriving on the Normandy, she hadn't even pleasured herself since arriving, and while she had grown accustomed to having no special someone it was a hindrance when combined with all the other stress in her life. That translated into cocky and sarcastic statements, antagonizing of her favorite punching bag Jack, and a general harshness that made her few to no friends aboard the ship. After a few moments Miranda arose from her chair, a huff escaping her lips as she straightened herself out, the short moment of unwinding being coiled back up as she made sure she looked presentable, which was more aptly defined as perfect, and went back towards the door. She still had things to do, she had to go see a few Cerberus crew members for updates and then she had the training Shepard had made mandatory, something she never really enjoyed, especially since she had yet to lose against any of the opponents Shepard had pit her against, in fact nobody had even come close. At least it gave her a chance to stroke her own ego and it would be a distraction from all of the compiled shit she had to deal with. Yes, she just had to finish a few more things and she could go get in some exercise before going back to her room for a bit.

Save your anger for the Collectors. That sentence had become Jack's mantra ever since her fight with the Illusive Man's precious little lap dog. Fucking Miranda Lawson! Just the thought of the Operative made Jack clench her fists and tremble in poorly contained rage. All she wanted was an apology- out of the bitch. Not even an apology really, just an admittance! For someone from Cerberus to accept responsibility, to actually say that what had happened to her and all those other kids had been horrifyingly wrong. And what does the Ceberus bitch do? Turn around and tell her it wasn't really Cerberus. Fuck that noise! Cerberus facility, Cerberus uniforms, Cerberus funding to start it up; don't tell her it wasn't fucking Cerberus!! HRAAAGGGGHHHH!!! Jack roared as she launched a powerful biotically charged punch into the wall of the bulkhead. Save your anger for the Collectors. Shepard's words helped her calm down- sorta. In reality, it just made another sentence bounce around her head: Don't be late for PT, Jack! The Commander's reminder from earlier this morning redirected her anger towards irritation. Yeah, she was late to everything, so what? Why be in a hurry to go die? Jack sighed, hopping up off her cot, her boots making a soft thud as she hit the grating. She stretched out her thin, wiry frame and took a deep breath. There, she felt a little better. Maybe she wouldn't kill anyone on her way down to the Hangar Bay for her scheduled sparring session. Hopefully she wouldn't run into Miranda. It was so hard to resist punching the Operative in the face whenever she had to lay eyes on that woman's insufferably cocky smirk. God, if she had to watch that genetically engineered ass alluringly sway back and forth one more damn time... This was the problem with the Normandy: it's like a prison. It's a small space, crammed with a bunch of bodies belonging to other fucked up people that you don't want to sleep with because they're probably crazier than you are. But they're badasses (and everyone wants to fuck the badass, no one wants to sleep with the nice guy), some of them are incredibly attractive (like Ms. Perfect Tits Lawson). So now Jack was caught up in this weird place where she didn't know if she'd one day want to get Miranda screaming in agony or ecstasy. As Jack walked through Engineering to get to the elevator, she couldn't help but think that equating the Normandy to prison was especially true today. The energy in the halls felt different - it was like right before the inmates start rioting. There's a sort of strange buzzing of energy in the air, but no one is saying anything. Everyone is exchanging sidelong glances, like they know something big was about to happen. But she wasn't part of that - everyone, and she wasn't part of it - which meant that she was the guard. Ah fuck! Something was going to happen and she didn't know what it was. She pushed the button for the Hangar Bay again, cursing the elevator for how slow it moved. When it finally stopped on her floor, she began looking for Shepard. The Commander would know why the crewmembers aboard the ship were giving her funny looks and whispering after she passed them, like something big was about to happen. Though she didn't find Shepard. At least not before she found the schedule for today's PT. "FUCK!" Jack yelped as soon as she got down to the bottom of the page, skipping through all that exercise crap and finding the part that listed their sparring partners..What the fuck is this shit?! She couldn't stand Miranda. She hated- Miranda. And now she was going to have to spar with her?! Sparring meant she wasn't allowed to kill or maim! (Rules that were imposed by Shepard that neither her nor Grunt were happy about) How the hell was she supposed to not smear blood all over the walls with Miranda as her opponent?! "I see you've figured out who your partner for the day is," Shepard smiled, appearing out of nowhere behind a very frustrated looking Jack. This is bullshit. Jack growled, rounding on the Commander. Shepard didn't even bat an eye as Jack huffed and puffed in her fury. Kasumi, Tali, Garrus, even Shepard herself (as annoying as she was) didn't incur Jack's anger like Miranda did. No, it's not. You both have faced everyone else, it's time to spar against each other. And-, you both are strong biotics. As Jack opened her mouth to protest, Shepard cut in again. -AND- you need to learn control. You're an amazing biotic, Jack, there's no doubt about that. You fight with your instincts and have raw power. But Miranda has tempered that power, she's technically refined, her moves are precise, perfectly executed; you could really learn something from her. So yes, she is your sparring partner today. And no, this is not open for negotiation. Shepard finished, her voice firm. Sometimes, she felt like she was talking to a teenager though she supposed, between Jack's lack of childhood and all the time the young convict had spent frozen in cryo, she pretty much was. Jack growled as she glared at Shepard. Part of her wanted to keep arguing, but she could sense that she wasn't going to get anywhere. So in an attempt to save face, she turned around and stormed off towards the make-shift sparring ring so that she could wait for her opponent. Well, at least that bitch won't be able to brag about being undefeated anymore.

Okay, so the place didn't look all that shady. That did make some sense: if you were going to run a secret brothel/sex house then you probably wouldn't want it tolooklike that sort of thing, right? You'd want it to pretty well blend in and just be part of the sort of overall place and all. It was even in the Rain Forest district and everything, which, let's face it, might as well be called the party district of Zootopia. Still, according to street information, this was the place. The small rabbit paused outside the door to confirm, double-checking her pad and tapping it a few more times. Various notes had been scrawled in her overly hasty hand, with the title circled several times, as well as a handful of other names. The rabbit pursed her lips ,feeling her tail twitching slightly. They thought that, yet again, this wasn't a great place for her to check out. Heck,Nickhad even suggested that "Carrots" not check this out.It's not the place for a cute little bunny. They'd eat you up in there. "Ha!"Judy Hoppslaughed aloud, her ears twitching and her lips pulling up in a smirk. Who'd uncovered the big predator scheme? Oh right, her. And who had been one of the first to realize she was wrong and save the entire force from a major PR problem? Right again: Judy Hopps. She could definitely handle a little sex ring in an exotic dance club. Okay, so she obviously couldn't dress in her standard uniform, which felt really freaking strange to her. Research had shown that something casual would be a good move, but obviously Judy's fallback of flannel and jeans wouldn't work either. So she opted for a nice pair of black tights that clung to her body pretty well. Her footpads extended out the bottom, as bare as ever. There was, of course, a little hole for her fluffy tail, which she'd made certain to fluff out a little more. The loose pink crop-top even left some belly to show, with the white and gray fur mixing spectacularly. She'd drawn the line at piercing anything to look like a club goer. "Right, so, I enter,' she said to herself as she walked forward. "I view the dancers and see about one on this list,' she tapped it, frowning. "And I try and make them see that I'm interested in perhaps doing something more. Since I'm a cute little bunny," she smirked at that, "they'll lap it up," she strode forward, tucking the notepad into hiding. Judy certainly didn't have to duck to enter the club. The place looked, well, like an exotic dance club in the rain forest district. Dim lighting that emphasized greens and reds. A few stages that were set up, at least one with poles (that made Judy's nose wrinkle). A quick look confirmed a good mix of clientele. There were a surprisingly high number of prey, more than Judy would have figured. All the workers seemed to be predators, which didn't seem to bother anyone. Judy knew not to judge, though she could still feel the fight against her reflexes. She stopped at a counter, exchanged some money for a lot of smaller bills, and tucked them into the front of her shirt. Judy should've opted for a wire, but she needed stronger proof of what was going on and that she could do it. Judy quietly asked for one of the star performers, leaning forward and saying that she was feeling a little... "Rabbity." There had been a smirk, and Judy had been directed toward a particular stage, where one of the "star" attractions would be performing. Judy took a seat near the front, ordering some spiked carrot juice and waiting, pretending like her feet weren't twitching as she looked around. The place kinda smells like heatshe thought absently.But that could just be the dancing, right?

Truth be told, more than a few people, patrons and dancers alike, had glanced Judy's way as she passed by. The club was no stranger to prey patrons, of course, but cute fluffy bunnies were definitely a rarity. Prey that came here could usually at least meet eye level with the performers but rabbits looked as if they could be swallowed whole by the dancers or split in half, depending on your perverted mindset. And it didn't help that Judy was famous. Zootopia's top cop who had saved the whole city. The lighting of the club and Judy's change of attire did help to keep her identity a secret. But every now again someone would murmur 'Hey isn't that-' before their words would be washed away by the throb of addictive music. Not too long after Judy took a seat, the voice of the MC broke through the cacophony."Alright ladies, I think I know why you all came here tonight. He's been our star attraction three months running, and he sure knows how to make a girl howl!" Fog machines misted pale white steam onto the entryway at the far end of the stage, dull red spotlights falling onto the curtain to outline rather... large and imposing silhouette. "The one, the only, Titan!" Titan seemed an appropriate moniker for the tiger that strode confidently onto the stage, and it was a name that had been murmured by the few aroused voices who spoke of this club. He was towering, broad shouldered, and his orange and black stripes gleamed brilliantly in the light following him around. Titan was also an appropriate descriptor of whatever he was packing in that tight thong of his. A great chunk of meat that wasn't even hard. "Hello ladies," he said in a low, enticing purr. He gripped the pole at the center of the stage and spun around in one fluid motion, the flex of his powerful muscles eliciting a few whoops and cheers from his enthusiastic audience.

Dexter's mom, or Diana, as she preferred to be called, felt unappreciated by her family. Her "so-called" husband was always busy at work, barely ever had time for her, whereas her kids were too busy hanging out with their friends that they didn't have time to hangout with their mom. Hell, all she ever did was clean the house and stay home! Sick and tired of staying home all the time, Diana decided she needed a vacation for herself! Therefore she packed up a duffel bag of clothes and all necessities, left a note for her family informing them that she was going on vacation. She didn't bother to tell them when she was coming back! It wasn't as if it mattered anyways! They probably wouldn't even care or notice she was gone. Sexually deprived because the sex she had with her husband lacked passion or lust, masturbation and sex toys were overused. Though they never satisfied her completely. It only left her wanting more! Ridiculous, really! Diana was ashamed to admit this but she needed a man with stamina, someone who could pleasure her in ways her husband thought impossible. Often, in this case, Diana would just stick with masturbation, however she was in desperate need of a man. Diana knew thinking about having sex with other men besides her own husband was unforgivable, but she couldn't help herself. Unsure what to do, Diana decided to forget about it for now and enjoy her vacation as much as possible. Once she finally arrived at the airport, she got checked in, went through security to get her luggage checked before boarding the plane. Diana slept through the entire plane ride until she was awakened by the female flight attendant who informed her that they had reached their destination. She politely asked her to leave her seat. Standing up from her seat, Diana rubbed her eyes groggily, walked out of the plane, retrieved her luggage at the baggage reclaim area, once she got her luggage, she dragged her duffel bag and left the airport. On the way there, a pickpocket stole her money unknowingly when someone bumped into her. She discovered her money was gone after checking into the resort. To make matters even worse, when she left to go to the lavatory, she asked receptionist to watch her luggage while she went to restroom, only to find that her luggage had been stolen as well! "Fuck, what else can possibly go wrong today?" Diana growled out in frustration and sighed heavily.

Hank walked into the lobby of the Resort. Having spent the last few weeks out on an assignment that nearly cost him his life, he had decided to take some time off and relax. Instead of the camo pants he normally wore he opted for shorts, but kept the tank top as he looked around before walking towards the reception desk. He could see and hear the red-headed woman there having a back and forth with the employee. As he walked up he couldn't help but let his eyes wander down to her derriere... *dear god...* he thought to himself before looking ahead and meeting another receptionist. He proceeded to begin his check in for a room, occasionally looking over at the woman next to him. He wanted to let his eyes wander again but other guests had begun lining up behind them to wait. "Hank". "Yes". "You know what, can I upgrade the bed to King size?" He continued his check in.

The Warp. The swirling unending sea of raw chaos that lay just behind the face of reality. The Vile Garden of Nurgle. Home to every disease ever known and more, where the Dark Grandfather of Sickness holds court in a rotten mansion. A Burning Wake. A barren, purified scar that now stretches throughout the realm of death. The Maiden Knight, the result of thousands of years of labor, and the countless souls of the most devoted of Isha's warrior-priestesses. For so long, this amalgam of souls has burned its way across the Warp, slaying all in its way, demon, cultist, and lost soul alike. Now they stand at the gates of Hell itself, ready to do whatever it takes to free the Mother Goddess. With a sickening groan, the door opens ponderously, rusted hinges creaking. Inside waits something not even the wisest of Farseers could have foreseen. A horde of Slaneeshii demons, a wriggling, writhing mass of vibrant flesh violently indulging in each other. An endless cacophony of lilting, unnatural moans fills the air as every kind of imaginable carnal horror takes place. Worst of all, the souls of fallen Eldar are scattered about, enduring mind-searing agony. Closest to the entrance, two Keepers of Secrets thrust their tree-trunk sized cocks into the ruined holes of two once-proud Eldar warriors. Their eyes are rolled back, their bodies twisted and broken to accommodate the rabid demons. With a ground-shaking roar, one of the Keepers reached his climax, his fuckpuppet's face twisting into a shattered mask of confusion and horror, her mind broken long ago. With each hard thrust into her gaping cunt, the demon shoots another load of tainted spunk, filling her, pouring out around its cock and causing the eldar's belly to expand horrifically, the dark magick of She-Who-Thirsts keeping her from ripping open. Others were not given the same protection, judging by the piles of vaguely humanoid meat being devoured and ravaged by hordes of demonettes. This was impossible! Why would the oldest and the youngest ever work together? How could the spawn of She-Who-Thirsts even exist here? No matter, they must succeed, even more so now when unimaginable suffering and degradation surely awaits both them and their goddess should they fail.

Time flowed unpredictably within the warp and only those beings born into the place could truly understand its nature. It was pure chaos, flowing forwards and backwards at the same time, where nothing was certain beyond the realms of the gods. When the Maiden Knight stood at the garden's gates, she stood in defiance of the odds. Countless dead demons lay in the great avatar's wake, yet as they had died, the path she'd blazed had become clear, and it wasn't so hard for the dark prince of pleasure to realize where she must be going. A thousand souls kept from her grasp by those fragile little constructs housed in that beautiful shell. Nurgle had been all too willing to grant them access in exchange for a portion of them since so many went to She-Who-Thirsts to begin with, and more to test his many gifts upon would be greatly welcome. Against one god, there could only have been victory. Against two, there was no hope for anything but failure. The Greater Daemons did not even bother to cease their thrusting, as they leaped at the Maiden Knight, two arms continuing the work of bracing the mind-broken warriors against their ravaging while the other four reached for her, some swinging blades, others simply grasping, reaching, groping, tearing coverings and teasing flesh with both pleasure and pain. Blows that would fell any mortal could not fell the Knight, and so they held nothing back, surrounding her, trying to lift her up and impale her. Meanwhile, hot on the greater beings' heels daemonettes and nurglings alike surged around the Knight, plucking at the hundreds of soulstones they could reach, and for every hundred or thousand that failed it was inevitable that the occasional one would succeed, plucking a crimson gem away and crushing it to manifest an untainted Eldar Warrior's soul, each one of whom was instantly swarmed by more shrieking demons...

Maker's fucking balls! Where the hell were they? Indigo hadn't had the fortune of experiencing time travel before, or even the knowledge of thereof. So when that slippery eel, Erimond, threw out the amulet, her first reaction was to deflect whatever spell he wanted to inflict on them - a curse or something equally as nasty. What she hadn't expected was for it to open up a gaping portal, one that was distinctively different than any time they had been in the Fade (like about five minutes ago that ended in Hawke pushing her indignant behind out before him), and then... Then... They were here. Indigo had no idea where exactly they really were; with its sour milk palette throwing a somber atmosphere on everything and the massive Breach in the sky now literally everywhere. Around them was the shifting sands that restlessly erased any distinctive landmarks they could have tried to guess at - not like there were many anyways. Just worn-away ruins that could belong anywhere, and that only baffled the Fereldan Warden-Commander even more. She had traveled to many places, experienced many spells, but never had she felt this particular tinge of magic. It left her uneasy instead of sick the way red lyrium affected the Wardens, and what was even more frightening was that the false Calling was completely gone - silent. So, Indigo had every right to curse in Andraste's lily-white ass what the fuck had happened. She had always been a restless soul, a firey wisp who flickered here and there without rest, and as soon as the Grey Warden had reclaimed her feet underneath her again, she was already moving. Not far, of course, but at least it would give her some semblance of bearing - hopefully. And the selfish part of her just wanted to clear her head from the rush of events that tumbled together just hours ago first in Adamant Fortress, then in the Fade, and now, who knows where. She needed time to breathe, to let her mind catch up with her restless body, and with an deep aching in her chest, recalling that every time something momentous that consumed her attention, Alistair would probably have swept her up into his arms to stop her from moving - he always did. The big rascal of a man laughed at her too, always got his fingers onto her sides to make the usually hot-tempered Warden-Commander yelp and giggle as if they were young careless kids once again. By fire and Blight, she wished Alistair was here. He always brought out the best of her, always knew when she was about to break under the weight of the world, and she was completely unashamed to boldly state that he was her sun - a constant bright presence always there by her side. There was no sun in the sky any more though. Just swirling clouds of the Fade and eerily broken chunks of the previous incorporeal world stabbing jagged points into this one. Whatever happened, wherever they are, Alistair wasn't here. She was the one who sent him off far to the west to follow one of the cure's leads, after all; told him to only come back when their lead was nothing or if she sent a raven to him. Of course he argued with her, and she with him, but in the end, they both knew that one of them had to go while the other remained to investigate the corruption within the Warden ranks. It only seemed fitting that the Warden-Commander would remain with her people while the Warden-Constable would have more freedom to investigate beyond their jurisdiction. But now, just having Alistair away seemed like the worst decision she ever made. Perhaps it was the stress of the day, the bewilderment of being so utterly devoid of any answers, or just the culmination of suddenly missing her husband so acutely, but it all came crashing down in the form of tears silently splashing dark dots onto the white sands. She did not sob though; just the slight shaking of her wiry lean body as she used her staff to climb a nearby sand dune. It had been some time since she had last cried, and seemingly alone, it was a crack in her armor before the tears were roughly wiped away on her sleeve. Then, she looked up, and what - no, who, she saw in front of her was someone she never expected to see. For a moment, Indigo thought she was seeing illusions, considering her eyes were still slightly watery, and then her next thought turned to that of demons. Could it be that this was a Desire demon, having easily broken through the Fade, only to manifest as Alistair in front of her? She dared not to believe that it was true, and her training was instantaneous in the way she stopped right in her tracks and lightning crackled dangerously on her staff."Halt! Stay back, demon!"she yelled out hoarse, not daring to hope that it was really Alistair... Because...How? A fair distance away, fate did not smile kindly upon Leliana in these dark futures. In the previous one, she had been tortured, her body seemingly aged past her years, but this one was no better. The demons that surrounded her cackled, the various types trying to brush up against the former Spymaster to break her indomitable will. Waves of terror, anger, fear, and despair rushed through her mind, making her tense against where she was being hanged by her wrists - helpless. Her mind had long exhausted any options of escaping without them tearing her to pieces, but she continued to steadily run the Chant of Light through her mind. No foul demon claws running up against the chain mailed shape of her form would distract her, not even as the silent Reverent who had formerly lingered in the distance finally approached. "You will break, little bird. The Elder One has given you to us for our pleasure and amusement,"the demon rumbled out, its grisly visage smiling in what could only be described in sadistic glee. The Nightingale did not miss the way its hellish gaze raked up her body, nor the way it allowed the blade of its sword to touch on her inner thigh. But she was still stoic, giving a barking laugh in return. "I would rather die first." The Reverent merely widened its smile as with a careless clang, its shield dropped - and the sword followed onto the ground."You will be screaming for death by the time we are finished with you,"it growled out before surging upon her, cold hands sliding hungrily underneath metal and cloth to seek out the warm flesh underneath. All Leliana could do was pray now. Though darkness closes, I am shielded by flame. Andraste, guide me. Maker, take me to your side.

Things had not been going well recently for Alistair; not that things normally went well for him to begin with, but somehow, things had gotten worse. For starters, he received a raven that his wife and love of his life, Indigo, had been sucked into some kind of portal at Redcliffe. Indigo was Alistair's foundation, the rock upon which the rest of his life was built. She meant the world to him, and as soon as he received the news he raced back to try and hunt her down, only to discover his homeland had been torn apart by the Fade and demons. He had rallied what few Wardens he could and together with the remnants of the Inquisition and other various armies and forces, they found the castle of Skyhold and sought refuge from the growing chaos. It was a desperate struggle, one in which the allied forces had come close to completely losing on a number of occasions, but they still clung to hope. For Alistair, it was the hope of finding Indigo. Just the thought of her kept him going, he knew she had to be out there somewhere. He just happened to be on patrol today when he spotted a portal open up near Skyhold. He rushed towards it, prepared to fight the demon that emerged from it, only to find a familiar figure. "Indigo?" His tone was one of disbelief and shock...after all, how could she just pop out like that? That isn't how the world worked...well, how the world normally worked. He wondered if rules even applied anymore. Still, he was caught off guard when she shouted at him and he even noticed her eyes were watery. His eyes narrowed as he drew his sword and pointed it at her. "Oh, no no. I'm no demon, your the demon here, and you really even not a good one at that," Alistair pointed out, still in his normal aloof and joking tone. "I mean, here you are, an Envy demon most likely, right? One of the most powerful, and you can't even get the details of Indigo right!" He began to complain as he tapped his foot. "I mean, for starters, she would never cry, ever...and not only that, but you are about a head too tall, demon. Indigo is at least a few inches shorter than that, last I check." He commented on her height with a laugh, almost like he was baiting her. The Reverent laughed as he heard Leliana praying. "Foolish little bird....your Marker and Savior cannot hear you here. Only the Elder One has power here, and you will soon pray to him." He chuckled as his cold hands slithered up her smooth stomach and towards her perky and sizable breasts currently contained by her cloth and chainmail. His digits squeezed, her flesh molded to the form of his digits as some of his fingers sought out her nipples and began to twist and tug on them. Leliana's mental defenses had been worn down because of the constant pressure of the various demons, as such, it was easier for the lust and desire to slip in unnoticed beneath her prayers. The groping and the touching, which should have felt disgusting and cold to her, instead made her body feel like it was on fire. It made her heart pound and her face flush as she felt way more pleasure from the simple act of groping than she should have. A long, snake-like tongue uncoiled from the Reverent's mouth and began to slowly lick up Leliana's tongue, painting a path up her smooth neck with his saliva, leaving a wet and hot trail. His tongue brushed against her cheek and was soon pressing against her lips for a few brief moments as he groped her again. Not only that, but a rather large bulge was also starting to pressing against her crotch too...certainly the largest she had ever felt. As all the sensations assailed her though, they soon stopped, leaving her wanting. His tongue and hands withdrew and he stepped back, grinning at her as he licked his lips. He knew the desire and lust was slowly starting to eat at her. He snapped his fingers and the bounds that held her suspended in the air shattered, freeing her. She was by no means free though. Surrounded by so many demons, she would be slaughtered if she tried to escape. "Now then, strip for us, little bird." The Reverent spoke again, his voice loud, dominant and commanding, but also, to Leliana's ears...strangely attractive? In any case, the command sent a wave of pleasure through her as all the demons watched and waited to see how she would respond.

Hanna Orimura sat on the train, which would take her to the IS Academy. Not her choice - her annoying cousin had forced her to go after not even a word from her since she was five years old. Now, however, she found some interest in attending the school, despite being half-asleep and dropping her violin and backpack to the floor upon arrival. It wasn't long before the school came into sight. All half-asleep, she picked up her things and stepped off the train, trying not to attract too much attention as she hated anyone staring at her. Meanwhile, back at the academy, Laura woke up rubbing her right eye. "What time is it?" She asked, as it was hard to see much through his thick heavy curtains.

Michael slowly opened his eyes to see Laura. Like her, he was naked, his muscular and toned body visible through the dark. He had crewcut brown hair and brown eyes. He yawned as he wrapped an arm around Laura's waist and pulled her into his firm chest. "Who cares...we are here with each other, that's all that matters," he whispered in her ear before giving her a playful grin. "You were amazing last night..." His hand moved to squeeze one of her breasts under the covers as he gave her a playful kiss on the lips.

Coughing up blood into his hand, Charles stumbled forward down the road as he held his shotgun loosely at his side. The arm was useless because of the shot he had taken to the shoulder, but he had managed to tie his shotgun to his hand. He still had enough feeling in his fingers that he could pull trigger if need be, but every step felt harder and he wondered if he could actually survive until the next settlement. The whole meeting he had set up with some men who claimed to have key cards needed to get inside an Old World US Army weapons cache, but instead it had turned out to be an ambush. Somehow they had figured out what Charles was really after, and wanted his information instead. Frankly, they had underestimated him, and now lay out in the dirt with their brains blown out. Still, they had given him a few broken bones, a shot to the shoulder, and some mild internal injury that Charles considered the least of his worries as long as the bullet could be removed before he got an infection in that area. Noticing a building ahead with a satellite dish on top, Charles muttered to himself through thirst-cracked lips, "It can't be." Before he could even get a better look though, a wave of dizziness overtook him, and he yelled out in pain as it was his injured shoulder that caught his fall. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up and crawled the last few feet to the wall of the compound and rested against it breathing hard as he inspected his surroundings. Only breathing a sigh of relief when he realized that he had not attracted any attention, but cursed his foolishness for not bring stim packs or at least some medical supplies. At least he had not forgotten to bring food and water, reaching behind him he pulled some pure water out and took a sip of the irradiated drink, and sighed with a smile, staring out towards the sun in the distance as he began to figure that this might not be such a place to die if it came down to it. Still there was no reason to go down that easy so trying his best Charles used the wall behind himself to prop his body up as he stood. It was to no avail as he ended up slipping back down again, chuckling at the ironic nature of the situation. Here he was on the edge of finding the treasure he had been seeking, and well, death might just have his life before then. His only luck was that the entrance to this place seemed to be along the roadways which people traveled. So maybe he would encounter a good Samaritan today? Reaching up, he toyed with the strange golden locket he wore around his neck that was shaped like a heart wearing a little top hat. Yes, maybe he could hope against hope.

Zipping up her suit after taking a moment to drain the hose, those heels clicked along the broken street as she meets back up with the team. Victoria - " Syde, Where are we and how much further?" Syde blew his nose only to point up the road to an old bunker, but before they could continue the team heard someone yell out in pain. Victoria made the team push on to the target location as she inspected the sound, with her weapon at hand she pushed along a stone wall, her heeled boots stop as she squats down looking at the ground to inspect the blood drops. "Fresh" - she said under her painted black glossy lips. Standing up she follows the blood and wondering what poor fool had died this day. To the end of the trail at the back end of the compound she finds him, a small man, wounded, and on his last breath it seems. Victoria- " Well, well, well... look what we have here, that is a nasty gun wound, and you seem to be dehydrated as well, the question is do you want to live?" The lady of Steel walks closer inspecting the man as she squats with both legs open before him, her bulge stretching the suit she had on as well as her perfect chest, Victoria moved her jet black hair out of her face to examine the man. Placing the heavy flamer to the side, her soft blue eyes stare at the wound as her hands with black painted nails sharpened like claws reach for his shirt to rip open more what the gun shot had left, seeing the wound and moving a hand under his jaw line she slaps him. Victoria - "Hey you alive or do I just leave you here?" Her eyes where more blue than they should be only to the fact that the eyeliner and eye shadow made it so. Victoria's hands played with the man's hair moving it from his face to see if he would give one last breath or word... she waited for a response at the same time he could feel her hands searching him for anything useful. "Shame I found you like this, you look cute, would be a damn shame to see such a thing like you go to waste like this." -He could feel her hand run up his inner thigh and groping his crotch, which seemed to spark the man alive...

Harry Potter was a special child. Destined to be the Chosen One, to stop the terrifying monster that was Lord Voldemort. Yet how much of that story was true? How much of that story was destiny? Was any of it? Or was it all orchestrated by one twisted old man with a superiority complex? No one wondered if prophesy was all a load of bull, since they all wanted hope to cling onto. And that hope was in the form of the Boy Who Lived. It was a nice, sunny day at the Burrow, the residence of the Weasleys, when Dumbledore apparated the young Harry Potter to his makeshift home. Living with the Dursleys was never much fun, and the Weasleys always treated him like one of their own. With a loving smile, Mrs Weasley welcomes Harry into her home, a bone-crushing hug being the norm. As the raven-haired boy disappeared upstairs, still quite distressed about the loss of his Godfather, Sirius Black, his friend Ronald appeared from behind the corner. "Professor Dumbledore, sir?" The redhead said, a little uncertainty in his voice. "Can we talk for a moment?" The request came, and the elderly fellow nodded with a small laugh. "Of course, my boy. And please, call me Albus." With the suggestion that they enter his father's shed, with the various Muggle equipment laying around, the odd pair was off for an obviously private conversation. "You promised I would have her by now!" Ron stormed angrily, his face bright red as they entered the shed. "It's not fair. That prissy mudblood bitch should be grovelling at my feet right now, sucking my cock," he said, his face holding a dreamy look for a moment before shaking out of it. "I've been keeping up my end of the bargain like you asked. I've been a nice friend to the Potter prick, but now I want what's mine!" He finished, his face matching his hair. "Quiet Ronald! You don't want anyone to hear you. Now... I intended Mr. Potter to die by Tom's hand at the Ministry, but he was much stronger willed than I anticipated. I even used a mild Cruciatus curse on him, but he relented still." Dumbledore sighed. "We are all missing out Ronald. Miss Weasley hasn't been able to give Harry her love potion yet. I haven't gotten the fame and fortune, so I think you can wait a few more weeks for that mudblood slut..." He suggested. Dumbledore was a powerful man, so crossing him was not advised. "Yes sir," he sighed in defeat. "Good. Now, I have made you and Miss Granger the Head Students a year early this year. This will give you two the master suite. I don't need to know what you'll be doing to that mudblood, just make sure she's still alive." "Yes sir," Ron said again. A few minutes later, the conversation was finished.

Harry? Her heart reaching out to the raven-haired boy, Hermione was about to go after him when she caught wind of a different voice, familiar though uncertain. Wild, caramel brown curls fell about her shoulders, framing the graceful curve of her jawline, she decided that it'd probably be best to leave Harry alone at least for now. He needs time, and she'll give it to him; they'll both give it to him. Professor Dumbledore and Ron went into the small, rickety shed just a stone's throw away, which only made things stranger. What could Ron possibly have to talk about that he needs privacy? Intrigued and curious despite herself, Hermione moved in closer, about to reach out and open the door when she heard the first words. It cut through the silence like a Cruciatus Curse, or worse, Avada Kedavra. "You promised I would have her by now!" Hermione flinched, only for suspicion to set in seconds later. It's not fair. That prissy mudblood bitch should be grovelling at my feet right now, sucking my cock. Disgusted now, Hermione listened into the conversation pieces finally falling into place. It all makes sense. From the very beginning, Professor Dumbledore orchestrated Harry's life, all their lives. It can't be just a coincidence that so many years ago, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named went after Harry, killing his parents that fateful night. He meant for Harry to die, though? Why? For fame? Fortune? Hermione can understand the reasons, but that doesn't mean she condones it, by any means. Nearly frozen in place, the girl forced her feet to move. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, waving her wand and having a whisk stir pancake batter. More than likely, Mr. Weasley is getting ready for a day at the Ministry, and as for everyone else well, she can only guess. Hermione didn't waste any time considering it, though. A storm of emotions going off in her chest, the girl ran up the several flights of stairs, bursting through the door with a great big gasp. "Harry! You have to hear this!" Shaken, Hermione hurried and closed the door behind her. Ron and Professor Dumbledore planned everything! Hermione began with. Once she took a seat on his bed, she relayed the conversation she just overheard, leaving nothing out.

Doctor Lyra Joules was normally quite the logical and rational woman. After all, that was exactly why she had achieved such a prestigious position within the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, in one of the most secretive and ambitious research projects ever undertaken; alien genetic splicing. More specifically, not just any species, but one of the most malleable in terms of genetic manipulation; the Xenomorphs. Normally, the aliens' life cycle was terrifying, to say the least, but here in the top-security space station, S.S. Wright, they had made groundbreaking results. Finally, instead of having to depend on finding a Queen Xenomorph with the possibilities of her overrunning whatever safety measures they put into place or the messy extinguishing of life from the violent manner of birth by the Chest Burster stage, all they needed were their test subjects to breed among each other and with fertile hosts for a new generation of Xenomorphs! These specimens were lab-grown and specially created to be functional as full-grown life forms from when they were born until they were sexually mature - usually a result of just a few months of intensive growth and care by the scientists who had created them. In general appearance, they would seem nearly identical to normal Xenomorphs; possessing with all of the dangerous natural weapons and that seemingly unsettling appearance, they were now also equipped with their greatest utility that made them so special and different - a penis. Not just like any cock; this one had been tailored for not only efficient results when breeding, but also for pleasure with whatever or whoever they would be mating with! With its nearly amorphous capabilities to fit into whatever sexual vessel to implant sperm (in the case of these specific subjects, the human vagina), it was a prehensile yet well-endowed organ even beyond that of what any human male could dream of. With lubricating secretions guaranteed to ensure easy thrusts, chemicals in the precum to both relax the mate's muscles and heighten sensitivity towards pleasure, that was only the beginning of the wondrous sensual qualities they possessed. They had almost unstoppable endurance, a trait shared by their less-attuned natural race members, but specified so that fertilization was practically certain with just the amount of sperm they could ejaculate in multiple and consecutive loads! These Xenomorphs could be declared as the pinnacle of sexual manipulation at its finest - something that could hardly be appreciated by those bound by outdated moral qualms or close-minded assumptions. Reigning at such a headway was what could be called the "perfect organism"; Specimen Khan, or numerically known as S-69. With careful tweaks and multiple instances of trials, they had finally accomplished their goal with him; a Xenomorph so precisely attuned and perfected to be a sexual partner that Weyland-Yutani decreed that Khan could not be used as a "breeding specimen." No, he was too valuable, too precious of an individual to be allowed to do as his instincts would otherwise; they had mandated that he be in "pristine" conditions, with his only form of contact being that to collect the virile ejaculations containing his potent sperm for possible future specimens like him. Which, to Lyra, was simply a shame all by itself. Had they not already determined that these aliens were not only highly intelligent, but also sociable in a way? And now, after having been genetically combined with further human DNA to be more compatible with the homo sapien race, of course he would want further physical and perhaps even emotional contact with others - fertile and youthful human females like herself in particular. All of those times having observed and specifically interacted with Khan had lent Lyra to a certain amount of affection for the Xenomorph; more than what was expected, at an alarming level of familiarity that would terrify her coworkers. Perhaps it was just the loneliness of her work, the vast expanse of nothing of space that had little interest to sate her primal needs, or just the fact that her alien charge had been intentionally created with the sole purpose of looking like as much of a viable mate as possible; whatever it was, the scientist could not help the instinctual feeling of attraction that she felt to him. After all, he had made it as clear as he could even without words that he clearly wanted her, specifically her; all of those months observing the alien lounging back behind the glass observation wall only when they were alone with that impressive member in one dexterous hand being stroked off had certainly done gratuitous amounts to her sexual appetite. So to say that she wasn't thinking straight recently might be the way of describing how Lyra was constantly feeling due to the ever-increasing pent-up sexual desire. But nothing she did alone seemed to satisfy her; not when the only images she had in her mind was that of Khan's uniquely throbbing cock, and the ever-present thought of just how pleasurable it would feel inside of her. After all, she knew better than anyone else as his primary caretaker, what wonders the Xenomorph could have her feel if such a flexible organ were to be thrusting inside her and leaving behind all of his pleasure-inducing chemical cocktail slathered against her tight walls... Not to mention, just how satisfying it would feel for such an intelligent and sapient creature like him to finally be able to experience one of the most pleasurable feelings possible! He had always been such a docile and obedient specimen in comparison to his more unruly and "imperfect" brother, so what better way to reward him than with what he wanted so dearly as much as she wanted him? Lyra was no engineer, being a bio-chemical scientist, but it didn't take much for her to find the security camera station and do a bit of fiddling around for at least a few hours of privacy in the darkness of the night. What she was planning to do, if caught, would at least lead to expulsion from her position and the Weyland-Yutani Corporation, but knowing its stringent policies, she might not even return to Earth. Well, that was, if she even wanted to, not when she had already found what she believed was the one person whom she thought was simply perfect for her; the only issue was that he was currently kept away from her in a specially designed Xenomorph escape-proof enclosure, which was hardly a challenge for her to enter instead. All it took were a few key punches and some rewiring of the circuitry behind the door panels for her to completely override it; a simple task that couldn't be done quickly enough, given how impatient Lyra was feeling. Already, she could feel her excitement begin to mount alarmingly quickly with the sheer anticipation of finally, finally being able to physically encounter her beloved Khan, and as soon as the doors opened with a smooth hydraulic hiss, she was striding through with purposeful steps towards the shiny dark shape in the corner of the dimly illuminated bare glass-walled cage. Even among other Xenomorphs, he was more built and larger in every way as purposely designed to be superior to them; the sleek alien figure should be enough to intimidate the most bravest of soldiers, but to her, he was the embodiment of a perfect partner. "Hello, Khan," Lyra began out innocently enough in the same sort of greeting she always gave him with that sweet warm tone, but this was going to hardly be a usual visit between them. Namely, the scientist could barely contain the shudder of desire that course through her body as she reached out a hand to touch one of his shiny plated arm, which was enticingly warm under her delicate fingers. At this, the red head smiled encouragingly at him, now having moved so close that he would be able to easily smell the arousal wafting from her already moistened pussy as she began to trail her fingers lightly to his equally muscular shoulder and broad chest."Do you miss me? I couldn't... I couldn't help myself any more from you. Someone like you shouldn't be kept in such conditions like this, being confined from what you're best at,"she continued, her voice taking on a quality of honeyed want as the human female now stepped back slightly, just enough for him to see her entire shapely hourglass figure underneath the nearly skin-tight jumpsuit she wore. Meticulously, with the confident knowledge that Khan would be enjoying the view just as much as Lyra was with baring herself for him, she pulled the numerous zippers and buckles free from her body and let the entire jumpsuit drop to the ground around her, exposing the pale milkiness of her soft skin without having even bothered to put any undergarments beforehand. Why should she? The sizable orbs of her breasts were bared, just begging to be squeezed and held, nipples perky with anticipation, and if the sweet musk of her pussy was noticeable beforehand, it was clearly wafting out with the fertile scent of a female who just wanted to be bred by the perfect specimen here in this enclosure. Her words then dropped to a sensual whisper with her light green eyes fixated on the Xenomorph as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world now,"Whenever I see you, I'm supposed to working... But all I can think about is you dominating me like you were meant to, Khan. I never thought I would meet someone who makes me feel this way, but I just want you to experience how it feels to mate with me, just as we've wanted to all this time.

Alone. Cold. Dark. Metal. Alone. Cage. Trapped. Watched.Alone. Subject Khan had watched for many days, months or years as scientists and researchers loomed over him, prodded his form from the safety of their enclosure and scribbled down things in their notebooks, clipboards and datapads. Since the moment he had been 'created' Khan never really cared about what those strange humans did as long as he was fed, got water and received some stimulation. He wasn't very friendly, but considering how friendly all Xenomorphs up until him were, Khan was basically the friendliest alien in history. Friendlier even than his "imperfect" brother, though Khan wasn't aware of said brother's existence as a result of being taken away and raised in a separate cage thanks to Weyland-Yutani. Reduced to pacing around his enclosure, occasionally interacting with a scientist by spooking them senseless, plenty of naps and little audio activity outside of what the scientists spoke, Khan at least felt some degree of gratitude that he hadn't had his limbs pulled apart or his blood collected by these humans. Alas, he longed to be free. Khan longed to jump around corridors, scuttle upside-down through hallways, shift about in the shadows and, of course, mate. He had the means to do so, and he had the instinctual drive to desire it. At times he played with that long, slick violet cock out in the open with no shame whatsoever- shame was a human emotion, after all- while at other times he allowed it to rub against the walls of his enclosure as if it was a naughty, yet very entertaining thing to do. He loved seeing the reactions from the scientists as he showcased his cock- in fact, over the days or months Khan had transformed into quite the exhibitionist, though it was only due to the appearance of that redheaded Lyra Joules that he carried through with most of the acts. He liked toying with her as much as he did any other scientist, but when the Xenomorph noticed that curious spark in her eyes whenever she gazed longingly at his cock, he schemed. And so after many days or months- bah, time had no meaning to a Xenomorph here- that redheaded scientist was here in his enclosure. He regarded her with some caution as he stared from the corner of his enclosure like some common animal. There was no hissing, no chittering, no chuckling or other inhuman noises. Merely silence. The Xenomorph was studying Lyra for whatever her intention may be, for whatever objects she might be holding in her hands or be concealing. Yet there was a smug confidence to Khan that could be easily seen even in the dim lighting of the enclosure. His mouth was cracked open as saliva trickled down from those rows of sharp teeth while the inner mouth was contained inside the gaping maw, though it flopped lazily against the floor of the maw like a tongue. Yes, Khan had been expecting Lyra to come to him and, when she spoke so softly, came so close and touched his plated body, he couldn't help but rise up to meet her face to face. Or rather, the Xenomorph towered over Lyra like a goliath. Khan sniffed at the air with an audible rrrrhuuuffmany times over once he noticed the arousing scent radiating from Lyra's pussy. He paused as the woman spoke again and seemed drawn to her honeyed words like a moth to the flame by how his head leaned in towards her and his tail flicked about. Though the Xenomorph didn't have any discernable eyes- at least from what could be deduced from a quick glance- it was clear that Khan was gazing at Lyra's form and noting similarities between hers and his own, though the male gaze was far more interested in scouring those curves and what her body could look like under that jumpsuit of hers. Oh yes, Lyra was right... Khan enjoyed the view very much! Thicker saliva trailed from his maw as he watched Lyra strip before him, at least until the maw closed and Khan sported that typical Xenomorph grimace. With Lyra bare before him and sporting those impressive breasts that had long entranced Khan for months on end, it took a great deal of self-restraint to not lash out and take the woman by force. Khan could smell her desire, her arousal, and knew that she was essentially pledging herself to become his mate now and forever, but why was there hesitation on his part? Perhaps he just wanted to hear the woman say the words out loud so she could bask in the ecstasy herself. Whatever it was, there was no mistaking that Khan was painfully aroused and riled up at that point. Already his long, slick and well-lubricated cock had slithered out from its sheath to pulse and tremble in the air, even to slide up against Lyra's stomach where it left a shimmering trail of slime and thick precum laced with a familiar aphrodisiac. He wanted her- no doubt about that. At the woman's final words- her desire to be dominated- Khan bucked his hips forward and pushed his trembling cock into Lyra's hand as if commanding her to take hold of it. The Xenomorph's free hands shot out to grasp the woman's shoulders in such a way that there was no hope of thrashing loose from them. These were hands tapered off with claws that were capable of ripping a marine in half or crumpling steel, and here they were being used to grasp a lithe, shapely human body with great care and great possessiveness before the Xenomorph turned on a dime and pressed Lyra's hot, trembling body against the wall of his enclosure. Pinned- and from there Khan just had to lean in and lap at Lyra's neck with the side of his slick, slimy and musky interior mouth whilst his free hands trailed down her shoulders and collided with her plush breasts. The heat from the palms of his plated hands was unlike anything the scientists had recorded before while- oh, and of course, how could one forget that cock of his?! Khan was far too proud to beg, but he wasn't the kind of alien to wait either. His cock writhed against Lyra's hand like a snake on its death throes. The Xenomorph desired for Lyra's hand and fingers to curl around him, to feel the lubrication and the precum that was dribbling from his member... And if she wasn't convinced by his endearing kneading of her plush breasts, a sharp tweak of her nipple by two claws would surely be enough to push her in the right direction!

ZackFair, SOLDIER 1st Class, and in the employ of the Shinra Electric Power Company. Recent events had led to his promotion, and his teacher, one Angeal Hewley, had gone missing. Shinra was ready to pronounce him dead, but Zack knew better. Angeal wouldn't disappear without good reason. Sephiroth himself had told Zack to just relax, but the passionate SOLDIER wasn't one to sit idly by if his friends needed help. To hopefully calm his nerves, Zack headed to the church in the Sector 5 slums. He always found peace there, and Aeris was usually found there too. Making his way out of the Shinra Corporate Headquarters, Zack drew a few looks, the huge Buster Sword on his back, but his uniform giving him away as a Shinra Operative. In fact, the only person that stopped him was Tseng. The disheveled look of the Turk told Zack that something was up. He'd never seen the Turk in anything except a prim and proper look and attitude. In fact, if he had to guess, Tseng almost seemed... drunk? "Heading to the church again?" Tseng asked, his insight quite keen. "Of course. I haven't seen Aeris in a few days and I think I should check on her." Zack replied. He had no reason to hide anything. "She's actually doing very well. That flower wagon you built for her is really helping her pull in some money." Tseng informed him. Zack had to admit that made him feel good. "Still keeping an eye on her then?" he asked, knowing the answer. "It's my job. I told you that." Tseng said, now walking with him. The two men were given a wide berth, and it wasn't long before thechurchwas in sight. At one time the church had been magnificent, and even now that old spectacular architecture could be seen, though all around it was the ruins of the slums underneath the plate, the people with money living above those without. "This is where we part company." Zack said, really not wanting Tseng to come with him inside. He valued his time with Aeris far too much. "Be careful." was all Tseng said before he took his leave, the helicopter employed by the Turks setting down in a cloud of dust and then lifting off with Tseng aboard. Zack turned toward the church and pushed open the door, slipping inside. The sunlight streamed in through the hole in the ceiling, and Zack called out. "Aeris?

The days beneath the Midgar plates within Sector 5 were different when she could anticipate something special. It wasn't that the stale fluorescent lights became brighter or the air less stagnant; the people remained as bitter as ever. But her heart was happy and excited. And the testament to that mood was actually palpable in the only place where life did exist beneath the slums - within the quiet, abandoned church. Within the quiet, abandoned church, the skylight that marked his first visit continued to pour its gentle warmth over a fertile patch of yellow flowers. She had been seeing him for a year now, but always prepared for him and considered every time special. She wore the pink ribbon he had bought for her on their first meeting, and since then had also acquired pink slipper shoes as he had suggested more of its colors in her wardrobe. While she waited in the church for Zack to arrive, the girl tended to those flowers, humming to herself and the plants as the watering can showered the new blooms. They filled the entire church with their fragrance. When he arrived, the calm air shifted ever so slightly, a tremor that rippled softly through the open space like a petal upon the water. A familiar voice soon flowed through, and from her stooping, Aeris stood straight before whirling to see him at the tall doors, the end of her spiral braid flipping over her shoulder. Zack! She said it as if she was surprised to see him. In part she was, not having known what time he would actually come. The watering can was set down quickly, just a bit of it sloshing over the edge to catch the edge of her pleated white skirt. She ran down the aisle to greet him, skillfully avoiding all the little holes and upturned planks of wood she had navigated for years. Without any more warning than her bee-lining, she leaped at him to catch him around the neck in a full embrace. I missed you soooo much! Her ear pressed to his before her head turned to plant a kiss on his cheek. You missed me too, right? How long can you stay this time?

Satoshi was no ordinary man and indeed, not even an ordinary demon. He was a powerful being, a demi-fiend; a fusion of human and demon. It granted him power that far surpassed even the strongest of normal demons and he had turned himself into a Demon Lord, killing and enslaving those as he pleased. He ruled from his home realm, now a barren and bleak landscape, save for his opulent and majestic tower where he lived. Its spires grew into the sky and it's walls were massive and impregnable. Satoshi sat in his throne room on his lush and comfortable throne, surrounded by all the luxuries in life one could ask for. He had many slaves, all of them beautiful females he had captured in his conquest of various different realms. They served his every need, from making him food and cleaning the castle, to pleasuring him sexually. They were all in various different outfits, but they were all either in very skimpy clothes that showed off their curves and bodies, or they were entirely in the nude, depending on Satoshi's preference. He was sipping on his cup of coffee as he looked down towards the foot of his throne. Chained to it was one of his newest slaves, a girl named Asuna he had acquired from a planet that had been much like his own before he conquered it. She was a famous and well-known player of a certain game, but in real life, she was easily subdued. Now, she was chained to his throne, a collar attached to her neck that was attached to a chain leash that he had attached to his throne, currently. He had drugged her quite intensively. He had done it to subdue her without killing her, but he also had drugged her with many aphrodisiacs to help her grow accustomed to the life of a pleasure slave and to make her crave the pleasure that would soon become a daily part of her life.

Asuna wanted to open her eyes but she couldn't no matter how hard she attempted. It felt as if rocks were resting on her eyelids. When she did get a chance to open her eyes slightly everything was blurry and spinning. Her eyes tried to follow the motion of the spinning but it only made her head spin more than it was. Her head was also hard to hold up, feeling her head slump down as she lay on the floor of the throne. She couldn't win the fight and her head slammed back down on the floor. 45 minutes passed before her eyes were stable enough to open, but the spinning and blurriness didn't subside. It felt as if she were drunk, but a stronger sensation. Was she drugged? She looked around and found that she was chained, wearing only panties and a piece of clothing that barely covered her breasts. Her hardened nipples stuck out and could be noticed through her clothing. Her head was hard to move as she tried to look at her surroundings to see where she was at. She noticed a male sitting down while sipping on something hot, seeing steam spiral up in the air. She squinted her eyes to see if it helped to depict the male's features, and it helped to some extent. He looked human but a hybrid. What he was mixed with she couldn't tell, but she didn't want to know. He did chain her up. "Let me go," Asuna sounded exhausted as she demanded for her freedom, her eyes half-opened and glazed over.

Yuuki Asuna had just finished her day at school, walking home with her school uniform on and her book bag slung against her back. It was a long and tiring day, the poor girl drained and walking almost lifelessly back home. She walked alone but it didn't bother her. The silence wasn't so bad and it gave her time to herself. Normally after school she would log onto her Nerve-Gear and play online with her friends, but she decided that tonight she would take it easy and sleep early. Life was more settled after SAO, but unfortunately her and Kirito split due to private issues. They were still good friends, just not together. Asuna unlocked her front door and walked inside, closing the door shut before exhaling a long sigh. Her back hit the door as she laid against it in exhaustion. It wasn't like her to become this tired but the upcoming exams left her weary. Silently she slipped out of her attire and dressed up in her pajamas, the soft silky material hugging her curves and bringing her a great sense of comfort. She stretched her body and yawned, heading upstairs toward her bedroom to nap. Maybe after she slept she would feel more energized and could study more, perhaps even get a few hours of game time in. She fell on top of her mattress, her body sinking into the foam-like material. It felt like pure bliss, her eyes shutting instantly as she placed the covers on top of her small frame. She nestled into a tight ball, her eyes opening before gradually closing once more, this time for good as she drifted off to slumber. It was weird though, because it was nothing but darkness that clouded her vision. She normally had dreams scurrying around as soon as she slept but not today. Perhaps if she slept a while longer a dream or vision would enter inside of her restless mind. Maybe even something she wasn't expecting. It felt as if her body was lifting up, her hair being tossed around in the wind but she didn't wake up. Instead, her dreams began to shift and twirl, an image of her floating down a space-like tunnel. Her hair danced with the cosmic winds, her pajama dress being ruffled and contorting everywhere. The speed was superhuman, the stars blurred together that they were becoming streaks of light as she went her way. Her eyes closed, but this wasn't a dream like she thought it was. Gently she felt her body lay against something more hard than a mattress. Was it a floor? This 'dream' was becoming more strange by the seconds. It took a minute for her to open her eyes, wanting to stay shut from lingering exhaustion. Everything was blurry at first but the color of the room wasn't her bedroom. This caused her to instantly sit upwards, her head moving around rapidly to inspect the room. It was large yet small, books delicately placed in their shelves, a desk with a chair near the corner of the room. Was this a study room? She rubbed the sleep out from her eyes before looking around again. Was this a dream and she was still sleeping? It didn't feel like a dream. It felt like reality. "Where am I?"Asuna whispered under her breath, her palm resting on her forehead as if she had a headache. What was going on?!

As Asuna slowly began to rouse herself from her slumber, a man walked into the room. As he did so, a number of candles scattered about the room lit themselves to brighten the room and allow the two figures to see each other more easily. He was a tall man, with slightly tanned skin and messy brown hair. He was slim, but toned and he gave Asuna a small smile as he took a seat in a nearby chair. "I'm glad to see you've woken up. I was worried the transfer might have taken something out of you, but you appear to be just fine." He took a sip out of the cup he held in his right hand as he looked Asuna over, examining her for any physical injuries. He let out a blissful sigh as the drink seemed to liven him up some. He pondered for a moment before seeming to realize something. "Oh yes...I suppose some introductions are in order....my name is Aristal and I am an arcanist and arch-mage here in the world we refer to as Alegerus. I can control time and space, and I summoned you here for a reason, Yuuki Asuna." Aritstal set his drink down on a nearby end table and folded his hands together as he looked Asuna in the eyes, his own hazel eye reflecting in her own as his carefree and happy demeanor turned serious. "This world is being invaded by a powerful demon lord, and it is taking the effort of all of our heroes just to hold him off...so I was tasked with summoning warriors from many different realms who could aid us in bringing about the downfall of the Demon Lord." Aristal waved his hand and images of Asuna in SAO appeared before them. "We saw what you did in the world of Aincard as the sub-commander of the Knights of the Blood Oath....we humbly request your aid in this struggle of ours....the demon lord...he kills innocents and abducts women....we must destroy him." Aristal bowed his head deeply, showing the deepest respect for Asuna as he did so, as he could only hope this supposedly powerful warrior would agree to help them.

Yosuke let out a sigh as he stared up at the roof of the tent. Kanji had stormed off, saying he was going to the girls' tent after Yosuke had unwisely questioned whether his innocence would remain intact through the night since it was just them in the tent. Still, it gave him time to think about everything that had occurred recently. The strange murder cases, Saki's death, and the awakening of his powers that allowed him and Chie to save Yukiko and then Kanji...the power of Persona. He still didn't know much about it, but he knew it fell to him and his friends to save the town. Thus, he had taken on the role as leader of their little Investigation Team and so far they managed to save two people but were no closer to finding out who did this or why. Still, he was happy Yukiko and Kanji were alright. His mind wandered to the raven-haired girl and he blushed slightly. He had a crush on the girl since he moved to town, but she had always brushed him off like all the other guys. Since her rescue and acquiring her Persona, however, they had grown much closer. They hung out after school and went to eat together often and they both seemed to enjoy each others company. He looked at the door to the tent and now he had half a mind to leave and join the girls' tent as well, if only so he could talk with Yukiko.

The quiet of the night quickly broke. Someone outside began fiddling with Yosuke's tent, trying to get the zipper to either open or - based on the urgency and force - to break. "Yosuke!" In a panicked hush, a familiar female voice is on the other side. "I'm coming in!" In comes Yukiko. She's panting a bit, hair a bit messy, and she barely has her outdoor education jacket zipped up. "Close the tent! Hurry!" She sits in the corner of the tent, trying to catch her breath. "Kanji was in my tent. A...A-A fight? Chie passed out and Hanako is, too. I think?" She taps her head for a moment. "I think? Yeah." She looks to Yosuke, still out of breath. "Anyway, let me stay here tonight." In a moment's though, she ponders for a bit and wags her finger angrily at Yosuke. "But no funny business! I'm only doing this because Kanji invaded my tent." She folds her arms, kicking off her socks with her feet. "Gonna get him tomorrow for this." Yosuke nodded in agreement as he zipped up the tent. He knew that Yukiko was right about not messing around with her. But he also knew that he had to be careful when dealing with Kanji. The last thing he needed was another fight on his hands.

It was a bright day for the northern Commonwealth, mildly overcast with heavy winds blowing across the tall irradiated grass. On a lonely dirt road, a small brahmin caravan made its way north. It was just two men, each leading a brahmin behind them by a ratty, frayed rope. "I can't believe you talked me into this suicide mission Sammy," one of the men blurted out to the other. "Caravan like this walking into raider territory with only two men? We're bound to get pinched." "Relax Carter, I already told you the clan operating out of here has already been paid off and they know we're coming. I've dealt with them before and they don't like large groups of guards walking around. Hell, the only reason I brought you along was to help handle the brahmin," said the other caravaner with a tired shrug. Sammy was only in his forties but life in the wasteland and long days under the sun had aged him very quickly. He'd been running in caravans all over the Commonwealth since he was just a child and had owned a small caravan company for almost 20 years now, thick and thin. "You really think we can trust those animals? Easier just to skin us then actually bother making a deal." "They may be Raiders but they aren't animals," Sammy said with a self satisfied smirk. "Word of advice, money talks and no one survives in the Commonwealth long without thinking at least a little bit long term. They know I make a reliable supplier. Besides, saves caps hiring guards when you can move through safe territory." Carter was fairly new to the business, he grew up in Diamond City and never really got to see much of the Commonwealth until just a few years ago. Neither men were expecting what would happen that day. "Hey! What's that up on the road?" Carter shouted to Sammy. The older man squinted off into the distance. He never liked to admit it but he needed Carter's sharp youthful eyes. "Hard to see from here," Sammy replied. "Looks like a body laying on the road. Should we check it out? Someone could be hurt." "Well we gotta keep walking on this road anyway so we don't really have much of a choice. Just be cautious, don't just run on up there." The two men took is slow as they approached. A body did lay on the side of the road. A pair of shallow heeled leather boots lead up to torn pantyhouse with a garterbelt hiding beneath a knee length skirt. Her dress shirt and leather jacket were opened on the front, revealing small breasts covered in a, skimpy for the era, lingerie bra. "It's a woman!" Shouted Carter before he rushed on ahead to check on her. "Now hold on now-" Sammy attempted to interrupt with no avail as Carter rushed on ahead. Carter ran up to the woman, his cheeks turning red upon getting a closer look at her open top. Sammy arrived only a few steps behind and spoke, "Well hell now, looks like we hit the jackpot. She still alive?" "I'm not sure," Carter said kneeling down to get a closer look. Her face was obscured by an old gasmask, despite the roughness you could still see some makeup blending down her neck. Just as the men dropped their guard, the body snapped to life. A double-barreled sawed-off in her right hand and a revolver in her left, each lined up straight for the men's necks. Two gunshots rang across the landscape in quick succession. Carter lay on the ground dead, a bloody splatter where his head had been, Sammy struggling on the ground choking on his own blood. His torn vocal cords were unable to form words as the lone ambusher stood up and took aim with her revolver at the fleeing brahmin just up the road. Four more shots were fired before she leveled her shotgun with the man's head. The seventh and final shot rang out. She smirked as she took off her gasmask, bright red lipstick glistening in the hot sun. She took the time to search the bodies while the brahmin tired themselves out with the wounds she left them. Some water, snacks, and a hefty pack of caps was all she found, a disappointed sneer forming on her face, though she partook of the food as she walked over to check the brahmin. The flick of the blade she hid under her skirt was all that was necessary to speed up putting the poor creatures out of their misery once they slowed down. Two hearts, twice the hemorrhaging. She took a look into their packs, mostly shipments of jet and some psycho but then she found what she was looking for. A small pill bottle with "Femmout" spelled in big pink letters. The anticipation was palpable as she opened up the bottle to see that it was full, the paper covering and cotton filling still intact. "Yes! Score!" She exclaimed before pouring two pills out and popping them in her mouth with a chaser of warm water. Her hands reached for her breasts and she gently massaged them. "Mmmm...I wonder if I can get up to a C cup with these. Oh, I'll finally be able to fit into some more of my bras!" She said to herself. Giddy and excited, she poured as much of what she could carry into her backpack before the sudden sound of an engine firing put her on edge. She looked around to find the source of the sound but before she could react she was already surrounded. A trio of jeeps circled with at least a half dozen cackling raiders hanging off each one. The lone raider reached for her pistol, there was only one bullet left in the cylinder and reloading the shotgun would be too telegraphed. She gritted her teeth and bided her time about what to do as they circled, eventually though she put her hands up after realizing she was no match for them. One of the jeeps stopped and the raiders on board quickly surrounded her. "So, we finally found the little rat running around," said a female raider with a large assault rifle and ready and a bumper blade on her back. "You got a lot of nerve raiding in our territory,you dirty bitch!" "Yeah yeah, Time for some punishment you fucking cunt!" Shouted another raider as he loosened his belt. "No Skimmer, you know the rules. Prisoner's see the Boss first," she said before giving a smirk, "Unless she decides to put up a fight." The whole group cackled like hyena's at this but the woman stayed quiet. She took a few steps forward, her hands still up in the air. "Hmph, too fuckin' easy," she said before walking up to the prisoner, grabbing a fist full of her hair and pulling. "The name's Jessica and you're damn lucky I don't let my buddies here all take turns on your ass before spilling your guts for hitting our supplier." Jessica pulled her over to the jeep and slammed her against the hud before flipping up her skirt. "Oh ho ho damn girl whats this? Some fancy slutty underwear? Oh and a little gift?" She slapped her on the ass before pulling out the knife on the woman's leg. "Heh, I'd say you're the type who'd enjoy getting fucked by a dozen dusty cocks on the hud of my ride. Mmmmm...but that'll come later." She patted her down, searching for any weapons before putting a sack over her head and throwing her in the back of the jeep.

When Carter returned to the raider's base, she stood before their leader. The leader was Elena, an imposing woman with broad shoulders, large breasts, and...a cock. Yes, Carter could see the bulge in her shorts that wasn't a gun. It even twitched when the prisoner first entered the room. "Do you understand what you have done?" Elena asked. "I carefully grant favor to select merchants so they can bring my people goods they want. You have killed two men and four branham under my protection. And this puts a stain on my reputation. I should kill you now. But before I decide what to do with you, I want to know why," she said, speaking with a deceptively calm voice. As she spoke, you could almost feel the anger in her voice being restrained. Elena moved closer as she spoke until she was towering over Carter. She snatched up the pack of FemmOut that Carter used on herself. Then she grabbed Carter's crotch and squeezed hard. "You want to be a girl? Is that it?" Elena asked. She let Carter go and started to unzip her own pants and pull them down.

Deep in the recesses of the Emerald Forest, a secret facility was in place. Team RWBY, a recently put together group of huntresses, had just managed to pass the Emerald Forest trial, but they were not ready for when Roman Torchwick laid out a clever trap. The team was gathered up, disarmed, and bound before being transported later that day to a fortress in the forest. No one should have been able to find them. Torchwick had their weapons taken, possibly destroyed. This was when, ultimately, a hero was sent to find them. The woman was named Sapphire, a young woman with long blue hair, a cool in control behavior, and no connection to Beacon or Ozpin. She simply wandered the world of Remnant as a vagrant huntress. She was moving along the forest on a whim, cutting down grimm, when she saw the facility built inside the fortress. Sapphire blinked. "What's this?" She saw guards outside, heavily armed, but her curiosity was far too high to resist. 100 or so heavily armed guards later, the sexy mature huntress with her hourglass figure, tightly bound in a blue and white one-piece suit with blue embroidery around the neckline cuffs and pant legs, had managed to work her way up through the facility. She saw two solid doors in the depths she had wandered through the forest, there were bars on the door windows, and she crept in close peeking into both of them.

Four girls were on the ground, gagged and tied, also blindfolded. One had blonde hair, another with white hair, one with black hair, and one with black and red hair. They all seemed unaware of Sapphire's presence, and continued to sit there still. Then the black-and-red-haired one started struggling to get out of the situation she was in. The other three looked over in the direction of where the black-and-red-haired one was struggling. The white-haired girl shook her head dismissively. The blond girl seemed to say something muffled through her gag, but it was unclear what she said.

Shit..." Rei's teeth gritted together in frustration, realizing just how bad the situation before her was. A group of eight young men, who had likely been nothing more than frightened high school survivors much like themselves not long ago, stood before her. Saya had taken up watch, but they had been watching them and waiting for their moment to move in, subduing the heiress before she could raise the alarm. Why had they not noticed they were being followed? She cursed her own ineptitude, but more pressing matters were at stake. The men had already taken their weapons and bound their arms with thick cloth as makeshift rope. They did not have many supplies at the moment, or even much ammunition, but Rei knew that the men had not captured them to loot them. No, they had something else in mind entirely. Saya glared daggers at them, pulling her legs up to her chest protectively but spoke not a word. Saeko remained silent as well, but more composed than the others, staring blankly at the far wall. All of the men exchanged glances at each other, small smirks of confidence and desire marking their features. The first young man approached Saya, taking hold of her chin as he forced her to look at him in the eye. His free hand reached down and began to unfasten his belt, letting his pants slip down his legs as his girthy member, still only half-hard, hung before her. She shook her head, but he gripped her jaw more firmly and pushed her backward slightly as he eased his hips forward. "Don't bite," the man commanded as he pushed his cock into her mouth. Rei swore again, "Shit... Damn you all..." This didn't sit too well with one of the men, who reached out with his hand and gripped her by the shirt roughly, "Say something?" Rei avoided his gaze but remained silent, her teeth still grit together tightly. "That's better... Now open up," the man brushed his thumb across her soft lips as he worked to undo his pants as well. Two men approached Saeko, one seated in front of him while the other approached her from behind. The other men remained alert with their weapons, just in case any of the girls decided to resist. The two around Saeko began to position themselves, directing her to jerk off the man in front of her as they each took turns. Saeko remained stone-faced, but complied for the time being, her hands working the young man's erect member while refusing to so much as look at them.

The man who had forced himself on Saya grew harder as she took in his large cock, finally starting to grow more erect in her mouth. "Ah....this bitch has a pretty good mouth," he managed to moan out as he began to move his hips, forcing more of his cock into her mouth and throat, pressing his hairy base up against her lush lips. Another man approached her and unzipped his trousers to reveal his own half-erect cock. "Start stroking me off or I'll have to cut your pretty face up." He licked his lips as he laughed, brandishing a knife. The man with Rei had unzipped his trousers now fully to reveal his fully erect dick, very girthy and veiny as he slapped his rod against her cheek. "Take your clothes off....I want you to use your tits," he commanded her gruffly, slapping her face with his rod for good measure. As Saeko jerked off the two boys near her, their moaning increased as their cocks throbbed in her hands. The last man approached, his cock by far the largest and longest of them all and he playfully pressed the meat stick up against her lips. "Time for you to play with this sword, girl...open up." He commanded, making it clear his intentions of where he intended to sheathe said 'sword'.

Greet... Them?" Asked the silver-eyed Ruby Rose to her sister's comments as their team sat at a table in the commons area. "Hmph... Undignified," commented the primp and proper Weiss Schnee with her arms folded, in uncaring judgement of the blonde's usual answer to these kind of things. "You're gonna fuck them, aren't you?" The dry and blunt Blake Belladonna stated softly to their teammate, her blank expression not showing an ounce of judgment... But not an ounce of approval too. Yang shrugged nonchalantly, her busty chest heaving subtly with the motion. "Relaaaaax," she urged the rest of her team, her expression shooting blankly at Blake as she was so blunt with it. "Well... Yes! Yes I am!" She answered the black-haired Faunus as bluntly as she had been asked about it. "It's tradition! C'mon and they're cute as hell, how could I not!" Yang exclaimed with a confident giggle. "Tradition is right," Blake said dryly. "I guess you have already done it with every guy in school," Weiss said the same thing, although far more bluntly and with far thicker an air of judging. "Almost everyone," the blonde corrected proudly, as if she couldn't rightly take the title of school bimbo without properly having slept with everyone in the school. "So if you'll excuse me," Yang said as she stood up and stretched, doing a quick look around for the two new students they were discussing, noticing they were not around there, "I'm going to go add to my score." She replied to Weiss as if it really was some sort of prestigious title, before heading off in search of the new meat she was going to welcome to the school in the only way she knew how. The two new students in question were the likes of Azure Sage and Silver Belsh. Two of the newest students to Beacon Academy, paired with two other students who had been there only a bit longer than them. As such, it was these two only who at the moment were looking for one of the registration buildings to get some of their information in order. "Look, I'm just saying it's the weekend," Azure explained. "We don't have to get this stuff done until Monday." He was an innocent enough-looking boy, thin and lean with slightly innocent features and a reckless optimism to match. "Sooooo let's go exploring around, meet some girls! Worry about this crap tomorrow, y'know?" Azure reasoned with his best friend. Azure was a young boy of sixteen, with long, deep blue hair - the top of which was unkempt in smooth spikes that were brushed back save the messy bangs up front, the rest of his hair tied back in a long ponytail coming from the base of his neck that rested against his back. His big purple eyes were hopeful for the greater things they could achieve at this school, which to him... Meant huntresses. That was until the treasure he would want to explore for landed right in front of them in the form of a busty blonde who approached and planted her foot standing right in their path. Her hair was thick and wavy, her light purple eyes experienced yet inviting. "W-well hello there~" Azure spoke smoothly after his initial shock at the sight of this bombshell.

Silver listened to his friend go on and on about something during the weekend. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his spiky platinum silver hair. "Jeesh Azure, its girls this... girls that with you huh?~" He wore a black tank top, paired with beige cargo shorts that went down and flared around his knees. His shoes were black with white soles. Also having white laces. His waist adorned with a belt, with two holsters and the butts of two revolvers sticking out. Attached to the belt were a pair of suspenders he could unhook and let drag behind him if for any style reason he needed too. He stood about 5'5 short for a boy his age. The blonde giggled as the short boy made a salute like a good little soldier boy. "Awww how precious, you must be the new kids I heard about." She said in a chipper tone, flashing her radiant and toothy smile at the boys, as if she were letting them see she had teeth for whatever reason, like a good carnivore should. Then, she begins to look towards Azure and Silver more specifically. Sauntering close, her boobs bouncing unashamedly. "Now then, who might you two be." The two with them completely getting ignored as if they didn't matter. Silver got a little flushed seeing her bouncing so much, making it hard to know where to look. "I... I am Silver Belsh, born and raised in Vacuo, transfered to Beacon as of today." He held the salute, but Yang reached out and made him put it down. "Alright kiddo relax..." Then her lavender eyes looked to Azure. "And you?" She asked wanting to get a name to call her first two victims of the new batch of fresh boys.

Once again, it happened that night, a dream that had been reoccurring nightly for about a month now for Naruto Uzumaki. It was vague, abstract, but always consisted of a certain figure, a woman of sorts who seemed to be familiar, close, yet so distant and unknown at the same time. It was always so frightening somehow, as if the woman or the unrecognizable concepts around her were a nightmare even though the woman seemed beautiful. Either way it always ended the same, with Naruto waking in a shock and a cold sweat. There was also another, more odd effect, however; each time, much like this morning, Naruto would wake panting and sweating as always, but he would also awake to a rather intense, unnaturally hard erection. It started like a man's average morning affliction when the dreams started, but at this point it seemed strange - the morning erections were intense, so straining that Naruto could barely move in the mornings until it was taken care of, and this morning again was no different. The blonde haired boy woke in his normal night wear of pajamas and a loose shirt, once again he did so panting, sweating, and trying to calm down after the disturbing dreams. Once Naruto caught his breath he sighed as he looked to notice the intense arousal in his pajamas, wincing softly at how strained the hardness was. Slowly reaching a hand down to touch it, this time a soft graze was all it took to make the sixteen year old flinch and grit his teeth in pleasure. It was worse than it had ever been, he was throbbing and stiff with no room to move it even, and knowing he couldn't get on with his day if this persisted, he wrapped his fingers around his member and slowly began stroking it. With such sensitivity, it only took a few pumps before Naruto shot a rather plentiful load, groaning lightly as he did so before he tried to calm down and he hurried to shower. Problem was, he was still hard. It wasn't as bad as before, but this was a continuing affliction throughout part of the day because of these dreams. Not only that, but he felt his own Chakra stirring in tune with this arousal, it was an intense and heated feeling, not necessarily that great of one when trying to calm down and having nothing to solve it save masturbation. Naruto took a cold shower and tried to calm himself down, but by the time he was done, he only felt it more so. Stepping out wearing nothing, towel over his neck, Naruto grumbled and as he stepped out of the bathroom, he felt the familiar feeling of Chakra swirling in him start to build up. It concentrated, heated, condensed, all without him doing so; it was a familiar feeling once he thought about it... It was the Chakra that wasn't his. It began pooling with the same feeling as if a Jutsu was being created, much like when Naruto began to spawn clones, only a bit more than that. 'Kyuubi..' thought Naruto as he recognized the source of the Chakra. Could that be it? Was the Kyuubi messing with him somehow, moving his Chakra to mess with Naruto's? It didn't make sense however, the Fox was no longer at odds with Naruto and without the usual need to escape that Kyuubi had not long ago there was no reason for some sort of trickery. Perhaps an outside force stirred the Fox's Chakra... But there was only one way to find out. Still nude and hard, Naruto sat upon his bed and closed his eyes. He kept still and took a breath as he focused inward on himself instead of outward as he did when absorbing Nature Chakra. The boy focused and concentrated until his consciousness slipped as if he were falling asleep until he finally opened his eyes to see a new scenery. The place was dark and as always he was standing upon a ground in about an inch of water, clear but illuminated dimly yellow in a relatively dark space. Long ago a cage separated the two beings and more recently, red archways bound the fox in a boxed formation. Now that they had become friends, the red archways, still necessary since the two were bound, were expanded around this inner world and could be seen in the distance with now Naruto inside, usually with the fox, both of equal freedoms inside - it was Naruto's mind, but something was off... Naruto couldn't see the Kyuubi! He was hidden or gone, Naruto looked around and for the moment it looked empty, either that or shrouded.

But all of a sudden, Naruto felt his chakra on the fritz again, swirling up emotions inside of his body and within his mind he heard Kurama's voice, or maybe a slightly feminine version of it but it was definitely Kurama's. As he closed his eyes to pinpoint the location of the sound, he felt a presence around him but every time he tried to open his eyes the presence vanished. But on the third time he saw a female figure where the voice was emitting "Oh? Is my little shinobi finally able to see me?" Said the figure in a sultry voice... That's when Naruto found out that Kurama was using some sort of shapeshifting jutsu to create a female body for himself... and a nice one to be fair, hell it was the best one Naruto had ever seen, and those breasts kept his gaze fixated upon them. "I see you're rather fond of this new body, good, that will make my task easier for me," she said with a seductive smile. "You see every few hundred years urges start to form within me and I managed to suppress them somehow within the confinements of the seal but now I'm out and I can't suppress them any longer. That's where you come in, my little shinobi. Since my chakra is linked with yours, I'm going to use your body to satisfy my sexual urges." "You've got to be joking," Naruto replied. "There's no way I'm gonna help you wreck my reputation by using me as a sex toy for your perverted urges!" But before Naruto could continue, Kurama weaved some signs. "I know you're not gonna join willingly so I prepared a little surprise to 'convince' you." Then a pair of hands wrapped around Naruto from behind, it was another Kurama but this one seemed to be a clone as it held Naruto's arms while the other Kurama walked over to him swaying her hips seductively till it arrived at Naruto and they both started caressing him.

It was a lot of bullshit. Though there were other words that could be used to describe all that Bison and Shadaloo had been up to over the past few months, pitting fighter against fighter in an attempt to breed strife and whatnot, there was no sugarcoating it all. All of it was tireless bullshit that only served to bring the brightest, strongest, most agile of fighters from near and far over to Shadaloo's main base, wherever the hell that was. Bison would have been a fool not to feel the tiniest tinge of nervousness as footage of tournament fighters running through his halls flashed upon nearly all security feeds. Fortunately for Bison, not all power players had come for him all at once, so there would be no fighting Ryu, Guile, E. Honda or Sagat, or any men for that matter. No, at the moment there was a group of five women, each powerful in their own right, parading down the halls knocking eggheads aside and plowing their way towards Bison. Cammy White(*) would be leading the charge with her most cherished and best friend Chun-Li Xiang(*) while the others, Ibuki, Rainbow Mika and Laura trailed behind. Though Mika and Laura were skilled fighters and Ibuki a kunoichi, none of them had the kind of training required to take Bison down like Cammy and Chun-Li did. Though unarmed, the two women made a frightening team and proved to be deadlier when in close quarters combat than if they relied on firearms. For that reason they stopped the group at the entrance to what they believed to be Bison's lair, where he awaited them. "Hold up," Cammy ordered as she threw the group a signal. "I don't like this." "Then we're close. So very, very close," Chun-Li commented. She turned to the others and waved them off. "Cammy and I'll go on ahead. You three look for another entrance, or find some controls or mainframe. We can fend off Bison long enough for you all to find some way to bring this facility down." "Wait a minute... You do plan on coming back in one piece, right?" Ibuki, the kunoichi, replied. "Get moving; that's an order, soldier," Cammy barked. Laura scoffed, Rainbow Mika looked confused and Ibuki sighed, but they all obliged the two fighters and went together to find another entrance or the facility's mainframe. This left Cammy and Chun-Li all alone, so they spared a few seconds to give each other confident, emboldening looks before moving past the steel doors and into where they believed Bison would make his final stand...

Indeed, this very well would be M.Bison's last stand or at least his final stand as his current self. The muscular jar head dressed like a New Wave Nazi was wracked with a sudden feeling of energy as the power of his Psycho Power reached a new state of power. He stood before a crater that the facility was built around. Coming from it, a mass of purple tentacles rose up from the hole. The alien-like thing looked like some sort of Cthulhu-like horror. No body in the crater; just more and more tentacles. As the fighters bust through the doors to the area, they would witness as his final change took place. His masculine form had altered and shifted till he stood before the arriving fighters in the form of a beautiful dark-haired woman. The former forms clothes were much too large on the smaller form. "Yes... Yes this is the true form of the Psycho Power," Mistress Bison laughed as she thus turned to face Chun-Li and Cammy. "So good you two could make it to witness my new form as it breathes its first gasp of air." The laugh came from her chest, which jiggled profusely. The tentacle beast whips around and slides forward, aiming for the legs of the two fighters, hoping to catch them off guard. Thus, to go for their most dangerous parts. Meanwhile, Mistress Bison rose to the air, levitating her energy off the charts. "If you wish to defeat me, just try," she said. "Fail, however, and I will brainwash you and turn you into new dolls.

Issei sighed, seeing as it was finally the damn weekend, and the plan for a strange date for him since he wasn't really a person to be liked by girls much of course being a pervert. It was strange for a girl to get some interest in him but it seemed to work out that they would be having a date and he was happy with it finally having something good in his life even if he also somewhat felt it wouldn't last long and she was really a girl to just be playing him. He sighed as he frowned a bit, seeing the high chance of that possibility happening than anything else. They were to meet at the fountain, of course where people usually met, as he changed and slowly started to go out and meet her then. Even with this seeming to be a joke or at the slim chance not, he would try to not make a big deal about having fun on the date at least for now.

Raynare or rather Yuuma Amano as she was currently going by, was a fallen angel, she was waiting for Issei, someone she planned to elinmante near the end of the date, due to reasons of concern. She was currently at five foot four, due to her taking on the appearance of a school girl, she wore a simple white shirt which hugged her large bosom, and was wearing high heels with a black skirt that hugged her ass, she had a purse around her shoulders, she tapped her foot waiting for Issei, she began to mess with her long black hair.

Full Summary: Before The 100 are sent to Earth: I know Bellamy and Clarke have an age difference of five years. Let's say they started dating when Clarke was fifteen and Bellamy was twenty, if that is alright. They met because he started training to be on the Guard so he could protect Octavia as you remember. Let's say he started when he was eighteen. Some of the jobs he might have done involved being around the Council for security reasons. Through that, he met Abby's daughter. Perhaps he had missions to watch over her while Abby and Jake were gone. It started out as something simple. A couple years after they had been around each other for a while, Clarke was growing into a young woman and one day Bellamy saved Clarke from a deranged member of the Ark that just had his wife floated and he tried to kill Clarke. That led them into a kiss and they started a (secretive) relationship. I'm sure they would not approve of that relationship on the Ark. Regarding Clarke's arrest, that's the same. However, she already knows that it was her mother that turned Jake in. Wells Jaha is not a close friend, at least not as close as they were in the show. I'd love it if she considered Bellamy to be her best friend. When Clarke was arrested, Bellamy was allowed inside the Sky Box but he had to sneak around to get into solitary to talk to Clarke. He told her what happened with Octavia. He never kept that a secret from Clarke. He told her about his sister and trusted that she would not tell anyone since he could not keep something like that from Clarke. He had fallen in love with her. Octavia is still arrested the same way because of the masquerade party. That year before the 100 are sent to the ground, Bellamy made one last trip to see Clarke, telling her that he was likely kicked out from the Guard, maybe even floated so they had their chance to say good-bye. The next year he spent his time plotting how to rescue both Octavia and Clarke from being floated but he caught wind of the dropship members thanks to Commander Shumway again. He had to shoot Chancellor Jaha the same way we already know and that was how he made it onto the ship. When they land: Clarke and Bellamy have their happy reunion together. Instead of taking control of the camp by himself, Bellamy always seeks Clarke at his side. I kind of liken it to the United States Presidential of President - First Lady. Clarke is right by his side for all the decisions, they talk about everything together, etc. He joined the group that went to Mount Weather. He swung across instead of Jasper and was assaulted the same way Jasper was. After being saved, Bellamy and Clarke grew closer together even more since he had nearly died. This made Octavia feel a little better about Clarke since she saved her brother. With the wristbands, he tells Clarke that he won't make people take them off. He knows people have families in the Ark and he is willing to take the risk that he might be killed if they land but I'd like to think that Clarke would fight like hell to keep him safe if they did choose to prosecute Bellamy upon landing. When they first contact the Ark, Jaha does still pardon Bellamy for telling him who wanted him dead. Here, I don't think Bellamy is as violent with Lincoln. He sees that Octavia really cares about him and he understands that they can help him have peace. For the sake of the Grounders being pissed for them torturing Lincoln, maybe someone he sent to have guard Lincoln tortures him instead of watching over him. Of course, he would be pissed at Lincoln for kidnapping Octavia but she is able to convince him that he did not hurt her, that he cared for her. Since Bellamy loves Clarke and understands love, it is easier if that makes sense. They do try to negotiate peace. Clarke and Bellamy meet with Anya instead of how it happened in the show but some of the delinquents that do not want to negotiate followed and opened fire anyways. The attack from the grounders still happen. Instead of being outside, Bellamy is inside when the rockets are activated and the grounders are burnt to ashes. He is knocked out with Clarke by Mount Weather and he is taken there with Clarke. I was thinking that since Dante Wallace and everyone at Mount Weather played nice first and since they knew so much about the delinquents, that Bellamy and Clarke were in the same room so in the future when they are asking significant questions, they can point out that they let them be in the same room together. If they wanted to kill them or do something, they would have kept them separated. It could begin with Clarke waking up like she did right at the start of season 2. Bellamy is in another bed beside of her. He wakes up soon after and we get into the plot. Her eyes fluttered open, only to be met by bright lights. The last thing Clarke remembered was that they had Anya as a prisoner inside of the dropship when they had set the rockets on the Grounder army. Once the rest of the army was dead, they had exited the dropship with Anya, only to be met by some unknown enemy. Anya had called them Mountain Men, and then they had been gassed? The blonde wasn't sure what to call it. She sat up in the bed and then glanced around the room she was in, relieved to find her boyfriend, Bellamy, in the bed beside her. She moved to get out of the bed, only to feel something tug against her arm. Without a second thought, she ripped out the IV that was taped to her arm and moved off of the bed. The blonde walked over to Bellamy and felt his neck for a pulse, and then checked his wrist. Happy to find a strong, steady pulse coming from each place. Clarke ripped the IV out of his arm, shook him and tried to wake him. "Bellamy, wake up. Wake up," The young woman insisted. "We're trapped," She hissed, worried as she glanced down at the white shorts and shirt she was dressed in. When her boyfriend didn't answer, Clarke sighed and looked around the room. She glanced at the door and noticed the glass. The blonde walked towards the door and looked through the glass. She was surprised and glad to see Monty across from her in another room. The young woman tried to communicate with Monty, but they couldn't hear each other. She looked out the glass window and saw a hallway, and a sign that said they were in Mount Weather. Clarke looked around the room once more and saw the pole for the IV that had been in her arm a little while ago. The blonde crossed the room and got to the pole, ripping it apart from the other pieces. Once that was done, she used the pole to break the camera that she had just spotted in the room, and then broke the glass on the door. Clarke slipped her arm through the window once it was broken, to unlock the door. She pulled her arm back in and then let out a gasp of pain as she cut her arm on the broken glass from the window. The young woman turned the handle on the door, found that it was unlocked, and then released the handle. She quickly walked over to Bellamy once more, not caring about her arm, and tried to wake him. Again.

Finally, Bellamy opened his eyes. The first conscious thought was about Clarke as her name left his lips in a whisper quiet as a church during prayer. The first face welcoming Bellamy back into the land of the living was a familiar one. Upon seeing the crimson stain of blood dripping down Clarkes hand, Bellamy shifted into an alarmed state, concerned for her welfare. Clarke! Whats going on? In less than the time it took Clarke to explain the circumstance, the remnant of what had been a small window on the door clued Bellamy into the situation. Approaching the door, his pale, gray orbs landed on the sign that read Mount Weather Quarantine Ward. The delinquents were gassed and abducted against their will. The last thing the couple needed was extra time spent here. We should grab a weapon before leaving. The dark-haired male ordered, picking up a piece of the shattered glass in the doorway. Across the hallway where Montys room was located, an individual wearing a hazmat suite entered without even glancing towards Bellamy and Clarkes room. Pressing a finger to his nose, Bellamy made it clear to Clarke that she should be quiet and follow his lead. Allowing the blonde to walk outside first was never an option. It was too dangerous. Stealthily, Bellamy crossed the hallway. The room was vacant except for the stranger. Approaching her from behind, he ripped the facemask off and revealed a girl near Clarkes age. Her face was paler than a terminally ill patient and earbuds were hanging out of her ears. The music blasted and Bellamy yanked them from her ears. With a demanding voice, he shoved the glass against this girls throat. Clarke, cover the doorway for me! Bellamy hissed in a low, throaty voice. Turning his attention back onto the girl, he wasted no time with making threats. Theoretically, Clarkes life was in danger. Neither of them knew what was happening. He had to become protective. Who are you? Why are we here? Where have you taken our friends? It was an overload of questions but Bellamy needed answers. The glass dug into her throat, drawing a miniscule amount of blood. Please, dont hurt me! Youre going to cause contamination! The brunette girl began sobbing and this confused the hell out of Bellamy. Contamination? What the fuck was she talking about? Take us to our friends. Bellamy spat venomously before the girl nodded her head in agreement. Through twisting hallways and up two flights of stairs, Maya led them to a dining room full of people dressed in traditional clothing. An older female stood from her table upon spotting the trio, yelling something about a containment breach.

An old early 20th century mine shaft elevator lowered into a dark cave, dimly lit by LED lamps fixed to the stone walls. Opening the rusty metal elevator door, the twenty-seven year old billionaire Brandy Wayne stepped out already removing her business suit, leaving a path of clothes along the early stages of the Batcave. At a laptop, an elderly man stared at a computer screen. He was live linked to security camera footage, watching panicked night staffers run in fear from a bald headed man wearing no shirt and covered in self-inflicted tally mark scars. "It's Victor Zsasz, Miss Brandy," Alfred said with much fear and concern in his voice. "If you must follow through with this suicidal crusade than I beg you to do so with haste." Brandy stood before a standing military-grade case, stripped down to a sports bra and a pair of black lace boy short panties. She was silent, but a look of determination painted her face like a mask. Opening the case, the symbol that would strike fear into the hearts of many stared at her from the chest plate of her armor. She grabbed a pair of black yoga pants, putting them on before pulling the armored pants, chest plate and arm sleeves on. She was transforming into the Dark Knight piece by piece. Next were the upgraded utility boots with steel toes and added armor plating to protect her Achilles tendon especially. The bracers were custom-made, a gift from her days training under the great Ra's al Ghul. All that was left were the utilty belt which echoed throughout the cave with a loud locking sound before she grabbed the soon-to-be iconic cowl and pulled it over her face. She rushed from the metal crate, floating from the ledge she was standing on with the help of her cape and landing softly on a parking pad where a black Corvette waited. It was an early Batmobile; the vin number gone, the glass all double-plated bulletproof plexi, armor plates surrounding the car for safety. She opened the door, still silent, and jumped in. Alfred turned to watch as the car sped from the cave, the motor humming like a custom build street car for speed. "Alfred," Batwoman said through her comm link directly to her faithful butler. "I need to know what floor Zsasz is on and we need to warn anyone in the building to get out that can." "Yes, mam," Alfred answered as he continued to watch the cameras until he came across two very familiar faces. "Oh dear, things might have become more complicated for Miss Brandy. It seems your uncle Phillip and Lucius are both in the building, Phillip's top-floor office to be exact. They are trying to help people into the office to hide." Elsewhere in Gotham City, a line of police cruisers formed a barricade for a large group of onlookers. Standing among them was James Gordon, a mid-thirties detective who had just transferred to Gotham City in hopes of restarting his career. He adjusted his glasses, looking up at the large skyscraper in front of him with the Wayne Enterprises logo on the side of it. "Where is SWAT?" Gordon calmly asked, looking over his shoulder as his partner Harvey Bullock. "They're on their way," Bullock replied with a dreadful expression on his face. He removed his fedora and ran his fingers through his long shaggy black hair with a hint of gray. "This place will be a blood fest," Gordon said quickly, looking at the citizens that had gathered around the scene. "We've got to get these people back. Last thing we need is SWAT shooting up the public." Harvey laughed in a sarcastic manner at Gordon's response. "Or us, Brayden and his men will be lucky if they don't bring the building down." Upstairs, on the top floor of the large skyscraper, huddled a large group of people in a dark office. A middle-aged, clean-cut Lucius Fox helped the other three men in the group push the large desk against the door hoping to barricade themselves from Victor Zsasz. "Everyone get down and be quiet," he said as they stepped back from the door, having a false sense of security.

Soft footsteps patted on the marble ground of the office. A knife scratched against a wooden desk that was still outside of the door. Victor Zsasz slowly approached the door and knocked gently on it. "Hello, little piggys, are you in there?" His voice was soft and high-pitched. He rubbed his free hand on the door as if trying to feel the energy of what was inside of the office. He placed his ear on the door and faintly heard whimpers from the females in the room. He smiled to himself. I hear the little piggys. Let me in! On the other side, Lucius looked over to his secretary who was whimpering in fear. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, look at me," he said in a gentle voice. She looked up at him with tears running down from her eyes. He smiled at her. "You're going to be ok. We're going to be ok." He took her into his arms and started to cradle her. Phillip Kane looked over to him and rolled his eyes. "Lucius, stop that. We need you to help with the door. If this maniac hits it any harder, he could get inside." Lucius looked up at Philip and nodded. He looked back at the woman. "Stay here, ok?" He smiled at her and walked back to the door. He pushed up against the desk with Philip by his side as Zsasz continued to slam against the door. Philip looked over to Lucius and softly shook his head. Why try to comfort her? You know as well as I do that we're not going to make it. Lucius looked over to him with an angered expression on his face. "I comfort her because unlike you I have faith someone is going to save us." Philip scoffed but kept pushing against the desk trying to keep the door closed. Outside, Gordon and Bullock watched as they saw the SWAT team arrive from GCPD. They saw multiple men step out and finally saw Braden step out of the truck. Braden was a tall, clean-cut man with a military haircut. He walked over to Gordon and Bullock slightly chuckling to himself. "Well, it seems that I have to save the day. You two can stay back while I kill this son of a bitch." He walked away from them and back to his men. Gordon looked at Harvey and shook his head. "I can't let him cause a massacre." Bullock slid his hands in his own pockets. "What are you going to do?" Gordon looked at the building and back to Braden. He exhaled, "Fuck it." He pulled out his gun and ran into the building. Bullock watched on seeing his partner running into what seemed like a suicide mission scenario. Jim, Jim get back here. Zsasz finally smashed his way into the room and hopped over the table. He saw Philip and Lucius back away. He also noticed three other men in suits and the frightened secretary. He smiled at her and walked closer to her. "What's wrong dear? I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to free you from this prison. You will be able to ascend to where you truly deserve to be." One of the men tried to rush him, but Zsasz was too quick and sliced the man's throat. Zsasz smiled noticing the blood on his knife. He cleaned his knife on the man's suit and carved a tally mark on his stomach. He looked back at the woman. "Are you ready?

Professor Curtis Smith sat at his desk, smiling to himself as he watched the clock wind down. It was nearing the end of first period, meaning students would soon be flocking to his classrooms. Not many though, only about ten or so. Thanks to the destructive behavior certain students were having (or at least, professors were accusing them of having) during their free periods, they were forced into this special class. Very similar to muggle studies, this class taught these gifted children of around 16-17 years of age, from a muggle perspective. The class? Sexual Education. The Professor teaching the class was a muggle-born wizard who had graduated in Harry Potter's third year, and was eventually approached by the Headmaster to help teach Sex Ed at Hogwarts. It was now Potter's sixth year, though he doubted the students would remember him. As the bell rung, he knew the students would be late. After all, they were asked to come in muggle clothing. This was meant to help the muggle-borns to be on equal footing with the purebloods, as well as helping with Curtis' own style of teaching. The girls would wear skirts, while the boys wore shorts. When the students entered, one by one, the Professor asked them to remain standing, while he called their names. "Potter, Harry?" "Here." "Granger, Hermione?" "Here." "Weasley, Ronald?" "Yeah." "Weasley, Ginny?" "Yeah..." "Lovegood, Luna?" "What an interesting classro-" "Patil, Parvati?" "Uh huh." "Patil, Padma?" "Yes sir." "Finnigan, Seamus?" "Yeah." "Thomas, Dean?" "Yeah, here." "Longbottom, Neville?" "Yes sir." "Okay, good, you're all here," Professor Smith smiled, putting down his rolebook and walking over to the students who stood by the wall. "Now, students, my name is Professor Smith. You might remember me as a student a few years back, but I don't expect you to. The class you have all been signed up for is muggle sexual education. I expect a magical version of this will be created in the near future, but I'm basically a start-up course... a beginners guide, if you will. If you all behave, then we will all go swimmingly..." "So, we will start by pairing you off," he continued. "As you may have noticed, the desks are joined together, with a blue seat and a pink seat. Quite obviously, this means the boys sit on the blue, the girls sit on the pink. Guys, you may sit where you like, your partner will join you shortly." As the boys sat down, Harry and Ron were in the front two desk sets, Neville behind Harry and Dean behind Ron, and then Seamus behind Neville. "Miss Granger, sit down next to... Mister Potter," Curtis called, which Ron and Harry both began to argue with. "Shut it... I don't care for relationships, friendships, or anything like that. I pair you off however I desire." He was aware of Hermione's relationship with Weasley, which is why he paired her off with Harry instead. Ron's older brothers, the Twins and Percy especially, always gave him hell while at Hogwarts. The twins were nice enough, he supposed, but Percy was hell. In his mind, this way a bit of payback. Well, that, and also... "Miss Weasley... Please join... Mister Weasley," he requested. "Miss Lovegood, join Mister Longbottom," "Parvati, join Mister Finnigan, and Padma, join Mister Thomas." As the girls approached their seats, they would find a large object pointing upward in the middle of their chairs. Fairly large and, well, phallic in shape, it was clear what its purpose was. As the girls began to notice this, the teacher spoke up. "It is my expectation that you will all sit down properly in my class, but I do understand some of you may have your reservations. If that is the case, you may sit with it between your legs, but you should sit properly by next lesson," he warned. "For those with... the inexperience that worries you, your homework is to get some experience. If you're a little shy about that, come see me after class." "Now... before I begin with the course, I will ask. Does anyone have any questions? Either about stuff they would like to learn, or just about the course in general?

It seemed that most of the girls hesitated. The only one sitting down with the same gait as she reached her chair was Luna. "Hello Neville! Why don't you have a training handle for your chair? You're no better at flying brooms than I am." The Patils were more silent and blushing, but all three of them sat gingerly, their female-like posture on brooms, the upward pointing handle on the outside of their thighs. But Ginny was sitting down with it protruding from between her legs, pushing up the material of her skirt, just to make Ron redder and louder. She even leaned out her tongue... And of course it was Hermione who had questions, not even sitting down, but her hand already up in the air. And as the supposed professor looked towards her, she started. "Are you really a Professor, Professor Smith? Who okayed this class? Why are we the only ones here, and not the usual partner House or why the change in the dress code?" then she took a deep breath, obviously having more questions, eyeing the protrusion, and hesitating.

Fwaahh~" the charmingly cute voice of the young Ruby Rose, leader of Team RWBY at Beacon Academy, sighed down the hall. "That was a good training session~" she spoke aloud to herself, always such the expressive girl no matter what she was feeling. This day, like most others this far into her semester was a busy day of classes and training which she had just gotten to the later half of and she had some time to kill before her next class. Ruby made her way down the hall to her room, looked in, and quickly shut the door behind her nervously as she walked into the empty dorm with the two sets of bunk beds on either side of the room. This day, however, was only the same as more recent days as far back as last week when the young Ruby had a bit of a mishap that would change her life completely. Though it had yet to be seen if it were temporarily or forever, for better or worse, but it was about to be discovered. Ruby was a girl of shorter height and pale skin with a rather lithe yet toned body. A talented and intelligent, albeit innocent girl with wide, curious, round silver eyes and short, neck length hair that was near black red which naturally faded into a conventional red. Ruby's combat outfit as well as her usual, out of uniform attire, was a tight black short dress that covered her arms down to her wrists which at the end of the thigh high skirt-dress and sleeves bore red, ruffled trimming completely with a black, red laced corset around her waist that stopped just under her breasts. Leggings covered her creamy legs as did thick, black boots with red undersides and finally a red, hooded cape that snapped onto her dress flowed as she walked into the room. But... This again!..." tears dramatically flowed down her over-expressive face as she looked into the long mirror and lifted the skirt to show a rather different appendage down below her waist. Just about a week ago Ruby had found herself sitting in the center of the aftermath of a minor Dust explosion outside where she had taken some of Weiss' Dust, the crystalline energy source of strange magics that only those of richer blood could afford, to study it a bit for her classes. She of course borrowed it without her knowing, with intent of giving it back, but keeping a couple pieces in close proximity and dropping them on herself like when those two first met, had concocted an odd mixture resulting in a warping of her body ever slightly. Dust could be absorbed into the body and used for many things, but unintentionally this time it had created something unlike any other and just a week later Ruby was staring it in the face as the object sprung forth from under her panties and leggings -- Ruby had a cock. Pulling down her leggings followed by her black, red laced panties, her member was revealed. It seemed like it never went down and it was incredibly sensitive; it wasn't too big, only a good six inches in length with a decent girth to match but boy did it spray buckets when she came due to its sensitivity. At first the silver-eyed girl didn't want to even touch it but as the days went on, her arousal made it impossible to think so she took to satisfying it when she could. Today was just too much for Ruby; she tried to tough it out until the end of the day but she needed to cum now. Luckily no one was usually back at the dorm by now, giving her some time to herself before getting ready for class. Her cute pussy was pale like the rest of her, and it pulsed intensely below the black-red pubic hair above and her tight, virgin pussy below that was only lightly obscured by a pair of average sized balls. Clothes pulled up to her thighs and skirt held up with one hand, Ruby, already sweating from her training, reached a hesitant free hand towards her member and gripped it firmly. One pump, two, suddenly Ruby felt something snap and she arched hard, a thick blast of spunk splattering their mirror as she shook and shut her eyes tight -- it was getting worse. Suppressing her sounds throughout her first, premature orgasm, Ruby went to the bed in front of the door and laid down. She arched her back as soon as she started jerking off again but at least this time she wasn't instantly cumming. Her boot heels dug into the sheets as she furiously worked her hand at her cock, grunting her cute grunts and moaning through gritted teeth as her eyes started rolling back. Ruby's thin body began to quiver and tremble as within minutes she felt another orgasm rising. It was just too much; she couldn't take it anymore, and she was in so much pleasure that she didn't even realize she had accidentally left the door unlocked, aiming her cock at the door so that she wouldn't get messy and could merely wipe the door clean afterwards. "I'm... I'm cumming!!!" Ruby suddenly screamed as a thick rope of cum, the first of many, splashed out towards her target.

Ughhh~." Blake groaned annoyed with today, it wasn't her best and though not the worst. Things had been rather exciting? Well more exciting for others, but not her. She had forgotten several 'special' books which she had wanted to use for 'studying'. She was a girl of fair height, roughly around Five, Six minus the black bow she wore, long somewhat wavy black hair down to the mid back. Amber colored eyes, which almost gave a neat glow in the dark, almost, she was currently out of her school uniform. Currently she wore a black buttoned vest with coattails and a single silver button on the front. It held her breast snuggly together. Underneath though is a white, sleeveless, high necked, crop undershirt along with white shorts with a zipper on the front of each leg, emblazoned with the YKK logo, made by a popular clothing company in mistral. She also wore a black low-heeled boots and full stockings with a color gradation of black to purple at her ankles. An emblem is visible on the outside of both thighs just below her shorts in white. On her left arm is a detached sleeve with a silver cuff around her bicep, and black ribbons are wrapped around both forearms. A small, loose scarf is wrapped around her neck and a gray magnetic backpack is strapped to her back, hidden by her hair. Though the backpack was currently not on. Blake sighed as she opened the door to her teams dorm, only to have a face full of cum? Leaving her in shock.

Two 'galactic' community's were formed in the milky way galaxy, the two were called the Citadel Council races or something like that, and the United Galactic Confederacy, each of these communities acted as the main government of sorts, both equally a pile of shit. These two never entered into conflict, hell they never even encountered each other until a certain incident occurred. You see at some point a former member species of the Citadel Council, the Quarians had been exiled, why? Well they went about creating artificial intelligence, which was illegal by Councils laws, a war broke out or something like that, called the Morning War, and the Quarians lost it and were forced to flee on whatever ships they had. Centuries pass and the Quarians are now forced to live in skin tight environment suits, have weakened immune systems, and were basically up shit creek without a paddle... Until a desperate attempt by their admirals led them to open a mass relay, which was totally a big ass thing in space, that allowed space ships to travel extremely fast in somewhat normal space... So the poor Quarians encountered the UGC, on the other side of said relay, contact was made, and so it was peaceful, the Quarians were allowed to station their fleet on the second planet(Harvest), the system they were in. Whilst relief was being given to the poor race, the relay had activated again, this time another fleet appeared, which was being commanded by a race of avian based metal aliens called Turians, they were angry, why? Apparently it was illegal to open mass relays, and they attacked the first planet in the system (Shanix) in what would become the First Contact War. Eventually the conflict would end in an uneasy peace, and that's how the two galactic governments met, all because of one race. "My god. Sis whoever typed this is a retard." Stated a loud feminine voice, as she put down the tablet like device, which had lit up the dark room she was in. "Damn it, are you sleeping?!" She yelled out in the dark, this was Mental Shepard Steele, well get to appearance in a bit, and who she was yelling to was her sister, Meena.

I think your sister is calling you," Vorth chuckled, the dark orange Krogan looking down at the human girl he was thrusting into. "You want to get your teeth out of that pillow and respond?" He teased, pumping his swollen, ridged member deep into her, his two outer balls slapping against her with each thrust. "Or should I tell her you're busy with inter-species communication?" He snickered, giving her tail a light tug as his balls slapped against her own when he bottomed out into her pussy.

I bet you can't stay like this forever," her father teased in good humor. All three of them were in different positions, stretched out on a twister board in the family room. John, her mother laughed, trying to keep her knees locked so she didn't fall. "Just spin the damn thing, Rachel!" John said competitively, trying to keep a straight face. Jennifer was letting out small noises, trying not to laugh. She was stuck, tangled in-between both her parents and her own limbs. Her mother carefully reached out, balancing on one leg while spinning it. "Right color," she read out loud at John. Her father did his best to move one leg between his wife's two legs and their daughter's one arm. He was in an awkward position, almost provocative, with his wife laughing making him collapse flat. Jennifer plopped down, knowing the game was over, laughing out loudly. A little too excitedly for a situation that should have been joyful. Her adoptive parents were in each other's arms, laughing, not minding. The sweet sound of her adopted daughter's energetic laugh brought happiness. Jennifer's laugh was a little jumpy, heated with high breaths as her eyes lit up like a little kid. She coughed out a little, holding herself up with one fist and using the other to cover her mouth. "Easy there, Jen," her father said, not wanting her to get too wound up and start an asthma attack. She nodded, still breathing hard, trying to simmer down her laughter. The doorbell started going off, someone at the front door. Both of her parents looked at each other curiously before Rachel shrugged. Jennifer pushed herself up while still laughing somewhat, but her father was already on his feet saying he would get it. Jennifer took the bottle of water her mother gave her, rubbing her shoulder lovingly as she did so. Her mother glanced at her daughter's Fitbit, which tracked her heart rate and breathing. It was a little higher than normal but still within the safe range. Suddenly, her father was yelling at her mother, but his tone automatically alerted Jennifer. "Rachel! Get Jennifer in her room, now!" Rachael looked concerned. You could hear John giving threats to whoever was at the front door. "Call the police once you get her upstairs." He called back. Rachaels facial features changed to motherly and protective, as if she knew something bad was happening. Mum"Jennifer asked confused as her mother grabbed her hand pulling her down the hall away from the family room, the opposite end from the front of the house. Rachael guided Jennifer up the stairs to the second floor from the kitchen entryway, she rushed them down the hall toward her daughter's bedroom. "Mumwho is that, what's going onis Dad ok?" She asked, scared. As they passed the stairs that led down to the living room, Jennifer looked down and could hear her father's angry words. You have no damn right to be here. We clearly told Dr. Fletcher we wanted no communication, no visitation. We don't want her to know!He yelled at the unknown visitor. Jennifer grounded herself, planting her socks into the thick carpet, making her mother stop. Who is that?She whispered in a desperate tone. She continued to hear her father and the unknown man argue, making her father more and more pissed. RACHARL CALL THE GOD DAMN POLICE PLEASE! He yelled. Jennifer pushed her mom off and started descending the stairs in a rapid pace. Her father looked back, looking worried she was approaching and tried to motion for her to stop but she didn't listen. She got almost to the end of the staircase, and could see past her father at a rather strange, bald man standing outside, he had a hand behind his neck rubbing it nervously. His blue eyes peered up to meet hers, he had the same exact shade of blue eyes. Soon as eye contact was made, Jennifer felt her body go weak, leaning into the banister. She had seen the man before, at the local Philadelphia Zoo several times, each time was meaningless, as he was just a janitor or working concession. She fell to one knee, holding onto the banister railings as she started breathing very hard. John had tried to slam the door but the bald man had wedged himself in-between and was stronger, so strong he caught the door holding it back. She saw what looked like his eyes glossing as he kept eye contact. There was some weird connection, she recognized him, as if she had been across the line and pulled through, as if she had broken time and fallen through to this specific moment. That frontiers had been torn apart. Who are you? She asked, her eyes swelling with big tears. Her mother was behind, consoling her, she had already called the police. The man had kept eye contact, tears silently decorating his face as he has this weird, attractive smile. Your father, her mother whispered, burying her face in her daughter's hair, almost tearful, holding her protectively at a distance on the stairs. Heaven's distraction There's no persuasion Stronger than sorrow It's stronger than It's a matter of choice Learning to trust My hand to you My hand to you Just as simple Just as simple as that You're only human An observer at that And if you're wary Don't believe me at that

Dr. Fletcher already warned him. Jennifer's adoptive parents did not want him involved in her life. For far too long, Kevin had not known his daughter. The urge to keep her was becoming too much to handle, lately. After a late session with the doctor, Kevin managed to sort through all his psychiatrist's files and find the address. He was met with animosity and refused to leave. Recently, Kevin showed signs of being more stable than ever before. This emotional tension was not going to help keep that stability. Despite the police being called, Kevin was not budging. When his eyes landed onto Jennifer's, something extravagant happened. She felt it too. She was practically begging him to save her. His mind was running wild. Look how violent her adoptive father was. She was in tears! They were hurting her and she needed to be saved. Dennis had taken over. Arguably the most violent personality that lived inside of Kevin was Dennis. When this personality came to light, nothing could stop this man. It was almost like he could squat and bench press two hundred more pounds than he could without Dennis' help. With one violent shove, Kevin threw a shoulder into the door and aptly broke one of the hinges. John grunted and was sent flying into a glass table that was near the door. With nothing standing in between him and his daughter, Kevin stormed towards Jennifer. Once arriving, his hands tightly gripped her biceps. Rachel tried to push him away but she was no match. With only one hand wrapping around the older woman's neck, Kevin tossed her down like a ragdoll. Her head slammed onto the ground and the back of her head was busted wide open. Returning his attention onto Jennifer, a sinister smile spread to his lips. My daughter, my beautiful daughter. You look just like your mother. Their eyes were locked and Kevin almost forgot where he was. His lips leaned down and gently tickled her earlobe before his warm breath was whispering into her ear. The whir of sirens outside meant he needed to get his ass out of the house. You and I will be together soon. I have missed you and thought about you every day. You belong to me. I will save you from these people. I will save you from this world. Although he was violent towards her adoptive parents, he was gentle with his daughter. Ten bruises on her upper arms would be visible though from where he grabbed her. Standing up from the blonde, Kevin turned to walk away just as John charged at him again. John had taken a shard of glass from the table and swung at Kevin. It sliced part of Kevins forehead before a swift kick was sent into the older males abdomen and he toppled back onto the ground. With enough time to make his getaway, Kevin turned back around and playfully winked at Jennifer one more time before walking out of the house. The police were getting closer so he took off sprinting and disappeared behind some houses in the neighborhood. He followed backroads and bridges until arriving back home. Well, his home was underneath the zoo where he worked. Nobody knew this even existed. Once he arrived, Kevin locked up and found some old medical supplies to clean his head. Patricia seemed rather upset that he was thinking about his daughter in the context while Dennis was defending himself. Besides, Jennifer was gorgeous. Their whore of a mother should have never given her away. She asked for this. His mother abused him and was asking to be raped. When he turned eighteen, he took advantage of his mother and ended up impregnating her. He thought this was going to be a good thing. It was not because she sent the baby away. Ever since that day, Kevin could not stop thinking about her. They first locked eyes at the zoo a few months prior. Since then, Kevin was fixated on finding her and bringing her home where she belonged. Every day was spent preparing her room and making sure nobody would ever find them. If John and Rachel would not allow him to take Jennifer freely, he would take her by force. Believe it or not, Kevin did not intend to hurt anyone today. He merely wanted to talk. It was all Johns fault for triggering the violent personality and refusing to give up Kevins daughter. Besides, a parent always deserved to have their child. He wanted to be with Jennifer like his mother was with him. Except, he wanted to add the aspect of caring for her. They could both stimulate each other and love each other until the end of days. Nobody was going to stop him from accomplishing that.

It was a warm day, as always in Alola, and Sun wasn't wasting any of it. He was outside near the ocean in a secluded area, away from all the village and city noise. He smiled as he threw out a pokeball, releasing his Primarina. "Hey girl, ready for another day of training?" he asked as he petted her head. Sun absolutely adored his Primarina and worked relentlessly to train her to be the best. He looked up as winguls flew by, and the ocean breeze hit his face. "Today is going to be very promising," he said with a smile. He put a bracelet on her wrist. "Today we'll be increasing your special attack, Primarina. So get ready." He adjusted his cap.

Primarina came out of her poke ball stretching happy to be out of it. She purred when he pet her head and nudged him affectionately "Ring~" she let him put the bracelet on and got ready for her training

George is a tall man, light-skinned, short brown hair, and catlike amber eyes. He wore strange armor that had metal on his shoulders and chest but his arms and legs were protected by leather, giving him much more range of movement than full plated armor. On his back two swords were sheathed; one a normal long sword built for fighting people in armor, the other a silver sword meant to help fight mythical creatures. George is a witcher - a person who has trained and studied to fight every kind of mythical creature that walks the earth. But he doesn't do it for free. He must be paid to hunt down and kill monsters, but he won't take any job if the risk is too high with too low of a pay. Today, George was sought out by a lord who requested him to drive out a witch that had taken shelter near the kingdom. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, but the lords subjects put together a collection to get rid of the witch, so he had to oblige them or risk having a revolt. George was the closest witcher, so he took the job. George walked down a path deep in a thick forest where the villagers told him would lead him to the witches lair. As he walked along the path, he noticed herbs and flowers that were picked and used for potions. Soon, he saw a clearing ahead and decided to stray off the path so he could hide his approach. He quietly reached the edge of the tree line and looked out to see if this was the witch's lair.

The first thing that the man would have been met with was an undead beast - it looked like a large white shire as it came up, snorted and almost seemed to pick the man up, throwing him into the witch's house. The sight he met wasn't what one would expect. A young woman looked to him, her breasts almost bursting out of her dress and her long red hair like a cloak. A witch hunter? she said. "Now then, what do you want here?" she asked sweetly. "I don't think I've been doing anything wrong," she said. Behind her was a small phoenix and on her shoulder sat a newly hatched ice dragon - its tail wrapped around her neck. "What's your name?" she smiled at him. My name is Lilith Grim, so what is your name? she asked before putting a warm drink in front of him. The woods can be quite sore on the legs, she said softly to him. Well, drink up, she specialised more in healing, charms and summonings not so much curses and that sort of thing. She sat down with a drink exactly the same as his. "Now then," she continued, "why did they send you here?

Dawnsorrow Sesshimaru had been at the DWMA for a mere two months, which had been two months of hell. Ever since she had arrived there, the other students picked on and tormented her. But today seemed worse than normal. Outside her dorm room was written on the small dry-ink board, saying "A Monster lives here". She sighed as she wiped it clean and then left for her day of class in Stein's classroom. One of the girls threw a wad of paper at her, and then the others laughed as it smacked her right in the forehead. "Yeah, real funny..." She mumbled as she tried to shrug it off. She had her pride but knew she had no choice but to work with the DWMA now that she was there. Well, she could have left, but then they would have won. Despite having issues with the other students, she never had issues with the other teachers there. She walked down the dorm and left, with more stuff thrown at her. She did overhear one of the girls calling her a slut, which only angered her. How could they label her as such when they didn't even know her? She wondered as she made her way to class. Walking down the halls, she ended up running into one of the teachers who she was familiar with only because his daughter had graduated from their academy. Spirit was his name, and he went to greet her. But before he could, June tripped her. A girl who was always tormenting her. "Now that wasn't nice, June!" Spirit called out as he walked over to her and scolded her. Still, she refused to say sorry. Shrugging it off, Sesshi walked into the classroom where chaos had only started when she walked through the doors. "Why don't you leave monster?" A male student asked as he threw a rock at her, which missed her but caused her to go and hide under her desk far away from everyone else. "J-Just leave me alone!" She shouted as she held her arms over her head and let the insults continue until the professor entered the room. Bringing in a new student with him.

Nagato sighed as she jumped down from the roof of school, though of course landing lightly as she was not a regular human though much weaker in this form than her weapon form. The mysterious, quiet, weird-looking girl named Nagato. A girl who was always under a dark gray hoodie with the hood up, piercing red eyes and arms always in the pockets with a face that showed how much she could care less about anyone or anything here even after all this time. As she passed through the halls to get away from the light and heat of the sun it seemed she had run into one of the head teachers whom had mere seconds already started to lead her to her classroom, filled with other people like her though the only difference being they actually cared to be stupid and annoying. As she walked over she could hear all the words she had grown up to ignore, now glad she was a weapon and no ordinary one as well. As she heard this she stopped at the girl's desk, glancing down at her scared form as she heard more objects being thrown, swiping her arm as if chopping something in midair, though the motion was different in that it was the sound of metal cutting through something as well as the sound of what an electrical current would make when it shocked someone though in this case it was just running through the blade as it cut the rocks being thrown at her. "When you're talking to her, you're talking to me! So say that again!" With one swift motion her arm turns back and she turns to push the boy out of his seat. "Come on, do it, do something to her... I dare you..." giving off a very creepy red glare, a twisted wide smile, and a disturbing childish giggle. "If I have to deal with people like you everyday, I'm going to have fun destroying you after school then..." waiting to see the boys' and the other students' response as she glances at the other behind her before looking back and waits.

To Readers This story may not make sense to you! This has been a long-standing role-play continued on this site from another, where it would be tedious and annoying to copy over all of our posts. It had been weeks since she'd seen Harry last, but mere moments since she'd felt him. Juni sat at the edge of her bed that had now become a place where she got the least rest and stared down at her feet as they dangled so close to the floor. In so many ways she looked like a child again, with her soft porcelain face and her wide and innocent eyes, but her body betrayed her more now than it ever had. Weeks ago she'd been a slim thing, hardly even a wisp of a girl that was smaller than her classmates and nowhere near as voluptuous. Pregnancy had filled her out in ways that puberty had not. Her breasts felt heavy on her chest and had swelled to fuller cups and weight had settled in her forever aching hips, her stomach pressing out and skin already drawing taut from the slowly more noticeable signs that she had made a very very grave mistake. Her hands grasped the robe that was at her side and she slung it over her shoulders, tugging it snugly around her body to hide her deepest secret and most horridly felt shame. From deep within her own body, she felt the lightest movement - a thump against the inner wall of her belly that reminded her. Harry. She needed Harry. Fear couldn't deny that she was growing his child inside of her and logic couldn't be denied. There was only one person that could have him, and there was only one way she would be able to get him back. Her letter to him had been brief but it had said everything she needed. Rodolphus, We need to talk. Urgently. Meet where we met. Bitte. xo, J. Escaping the castle was easy enough when people didn't tend to notice you, her head kept low as she approached the hump backed witch and sneaked away down the tunnel. In the area where she was left only to her thoughts, she felt the tickle of doubt in the back of her mind that she shouldn't be doing this. It whispered and promised that Harry was dead, long dispatched when the Lestranges got a hold of him. She had to hope. Her hand moved to the swell in her belly as she ascended the steps to the cellar of the candy shop, sneaking out the empty store and into the streets. Head down, walking fast, she looked like any other witch, making her way to the Shrieking Shack. The difference was that by the time she got there she was nearly out of breath, her cheeks flush as she eased slowly onto the floor. Her hand went to her stomach again. Harry. Do it for Harry....

There were few things Rodolphus detested more than down time, and unfortunately that was the exact hell he was living. Jobs were done, all that was left to pace like the dog he was and wait for further instructions. At least he had cigars and whiskey to keep him occupied, if only he could get Bellatrix in on the fun and games it would be a bit easier. Until then he would enjoy the solitude of his study. A solitude that was interrupted by the pecking on his window. The owl looked familiar but even in the most hopeful part of his soul he could not imagine his dear Juni would be reaching out to him. Straightening his shirt for no other reason than to give himself a bit of courage, he strode to the window, stopping to grab a treat for the owl. With a quick swap of goods, he practically sprinted to his desk. A tumbler of whiskey in hand, he downed it quickly before looking at the note. So hope had won out! She was reaching out to him! The kidnapping of Harry was quickly becoming the best thing that had happened to him. Bellatrix was beyond thrilled that not only had he kidnapped the Golden Boy, he had him to torture but it also made Juni need him. For a moment he pondered whether or not he would respond to the note, impatience overrode logic choosing to go for his robe instead of his quill. Taking a moment to center himself, he apparated near the Shrieking Shack, far enough back though to avoid any notice. With a quick pace he made his way to the shack, going over in his head what he could and could not say. More importantly the sympathy he would have to show for the missing Harry. If he could get Juni to begin to forget him for the night he would most certainly join his wife for a rather good torture session of the boy. He entered making sure to close the door quietly, the need for absolute secrecy was needed now more than ever. He could barely make out her figure when he began to speak. "Mein lieber Juni, geht es dir gut? I came as soon as I received your letter, tell me, I will take care of you.

Boredom, the curse of all life. It ruined all forms of happiness, and none more so than Mei-ling Hanamura, Mei for short. A Chinese Japanese halfbreed, her mother was from China and her father was a Japanese man. It gave her a very unique upbringing but also caused her to have fewer friends. As was life, people tended to judge based on different facts. The fact that she was born a fully functional futanari didn't help her case in the slightest. Relentlessly mocked and made a fool of, she had developed more anti-social behavior. Even after getting out of school, she was still like this. Barely twenty years old, she was a complete hermit, barely leaving her home. The concern was how she supported herself; while the house had been bought by a wealthy family, she completely supported herself without leaving her bedroom or even getting dressed. She worked as a technical assistance worker, spending her days on the phone or rather a headset phone for her and talking people through fixing tech problems and the like. It was boring as hell work but she made a decent wage without leaving her bedroom or getting dressed. Even now Mei was loafing around bored, waiting for a doorbell to ring. If she stood, she would be a mere five-six feet tall, but she wasn't petite, she was about average build, with D-cup breasts, not fat but not a twig either. She was very proportioned. For someone in her profession, she maintained her figure well. You could do a lot of a workout without leaving home. She wore nothing more than a pair of booty shorts that held tight to her waist by the elastic. They were a bit loose but did give a good suggestion that she wasn't flat in the backside. Her hair was fairly messy and let down, hanging around her shoulders. She wore an oversized shirt that suggested nothing was beneath it. Sprawled out on the couch like a murder victim, watching TV absent-mindedly. Finally, the doorbell rang, and she groaned, rolling off the couch and walking to the door like a zombie. Flinging open the door, there was a delivery man at the door who seemed to jump at her appearance. She made no small talk; she didn't care to. He tried to say something after she took the package but she had kicked the door closed behind her as she turned around, and the sound of a locking door suggested that she wasn't looking for a friend. Carrying the box up to her room, it was well maintained, save for the pile of clothes in her hamper. Tomorrow was laundry day. Opening the box, she began putting the figures and other collectables she had ordered online into their proper places. Finally coming to the game she had ordered: The Harem Collectors Game. It was an odd game she had seen, so what the hell? God knew she could use more hentai games, not like she had anyone to take the lusts out on but someone on the other side of a screen. This one also seemed fairly interesting. Turning on her computer, she let it boot up as she scanned the manual before popping the disk in. Before long, her screen turned a brilliant white light that blinded her, only moments later everything went black. She was afraid she was blind. However, groaning, she sat up realizing she had only passed out. Her head throbbed like she got bitch-slapped with a cinder block. "Ow... What a shitty prank of a game," Mei grumbled to herself as her vision came into focus. Things were not right; she was on what could only be considered a sci-fi medical cot. Looking around, the whole place was made of metal and she could see medical equipment that they couldn't achieve. Slowly raising from her cot, she stumbled to the window leading outside. "Toto... I don't think we're in Japan anymore..." She said aloud to herself, looking out at the infinite stars and endless void of space. Just where in the hell was she?

As the futanari continued her star-gazing and watching off the endless void that was space, a person entered the room - specifically an alien, a very hot and stunning alien woman. Who wore a very skin tight suit that showed her curves off just right, had entered the room from the entrance, her face obscured by a helmet and a purple visor. Now, those who saw this alien babe would immediately know who she was - Tali Zorah vas Normandy, or something else depending on the ass hat who did her loyalty mission and got her exiled. Tali took silent steps as she approached the unsuspecting girl. Swaying her generous hips with each step, there was no visible jiggle from her breasts due to the suit, but if someone paid attention closely they could see the mammaries move slightly. Tali let out a small giggle as she tapped the futa's shoulder lightly, getting her attention. "Hello!" She said in her eastern european, more Russian-ish sounding accent. She noticed from a glance that the girl had gone stiff. "Uh oh. Did I break her?" The Quarian couldn't help but think, as she hadn't expected this type of reaction to come - then again, the girl was a complete shut-in.