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The forest was stirring, but tonight, more than usual. The trees and their entirety sang; the copse of oaks, bushes and rivers, even the wildlife was singing, kneeling before the immense aura that permeated the ruins. Since Zathrian's demise at the hands of the Grey Wardens, his curse of "lycanthropy" had supposedly been dispelled, returning those branded by his vengeful talons to their original statures. The blight which threatened to destroy all of Ferelden had since been thwarted by the Grey Wardens and the indigenous were slowly - but surely - putting together the shattered pieces of their lives. However, the disease that Zathrian inflicted upon those who did wrong to him was not completely alleviated. While some curse victims were completely cured, others were "half" cured.
Those who were half-cured were able to assume human and lycan form at will while still maintaining their wolfen physical attributes. Some had deemed this as a burden, while others, a fabulous blessing. To those who accepted it, they believed they could form their own race, a superior race.
An eerie glow burned through the ruins that balmy evening, casting mysterious shadows here and there. A throng of werewolves were huddled around a snapped pillar, seemingly conversing while another group proceeded into the broken temple. One within the group was seemingly human, but the flaxen glow of their chilling gold eyes suggested otherwise. Whispers emitted from their maws like a song, following a string of loud, shaking footfalls. Tonight the werewolf clan - remnants from Zathrian's affliction - had gathered to the heart of the forest to meet a new face. This tyrant, as they had deemed him, claimed he could lead their race to victory and ensure that their existence would never again be undermined and always be feared. Some were skeptic while others traveled to the ruins only to sate their intrigue. There was one werewolf - a woman, in fact - that wasn't so moved by this stranger's agnostic claims. Her eyes bore through the spectral light cast down from the plump moon, nearby spectators thrown aback by her sudden intrusion. The woman was tall; amazonian, with flesh touched by the deserts and a long, starless mane which framed her exotic face in a roguish manner.
One of the werewolves - a man - ogled her for an instant then grunted to the others, quickly disdaining her sudden appearance. They had known her as Ammon, but since becoming a werewolf, they had often referred to her as "Banshee" simply because her howls were composed of beautiful tones; she would sit in the forest and sing until the sun rose, but as a human, she nary uttered even a sound. The woman, clad in a tight, ashen bandeau and a coal-colored cardigan, trekked into the ruins and down the stair-well where the Lady of the Forest was once housed. It was here that this new "leader" was to speak, and undoubtedly, the woman would have something to say concerning his leadership.
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In the thicket of the forest, deep within its nestling trees, stood a ruin of seemingly no potential as it lay in broken heaps, but deep within its descending caverns gathered a fairly large group of creatures. Creatures that had thought to be extinct now that the 'curse' that plagued them had ended. But the curse had not cured all of them and instead of returning to their human states, the werewolves had become something new, something different, yet something entirely the same.
That is why he was here. In the midst of the crowd of werewolves stood a cloaked figure; he stood higher than the rest with feet planted firmly on a half-broken pillar. His face was hidden in shadows except for his lips, which were held firmly in an expressionless line and surrounded by light stubble of a dark brown that was almost black. He raised his head only slightly as more werewolves gathered and he could not only feel, but hear every heartbeat within the room, as well as beyond the stone walls.
He was new here, with a small group of werewolves he had found scattered around Ferelden. They were like him; half turned, confused, afraid, and lost. A lot had happened to him before meeting these creatures much like himself and he himself had become something new. What he had become had never been seen by the likes of any races in their world and the power he held was to be used to create a new world. One in which all of his people could live and not have to fear leaving their forests.
Tension hung thickly in the air and Jericho looked over the crowd; though he could see them clearly in several senses, they could not see him in the same manner. His face still hidden by darkness, the scent and figure of him were masked as well, a secret he had learned over the years and planned to teach to those who wished to follow him. "My dear brethren," his rich, metallic voice rang clear through the silence, everyone's attention now solely on the cloaked man, "my name is Jericho and I am here to save you." His words strung together with captivating intonation and sincerity, but he spoke quickly, almost as though he were in a hurry and his words became urgent, though not quite begging. "The world outside these ruins are not kind to our like, especially now that we have become something... similar to human, but more. They resent us and will continue to do so. I tell you this because it is the truth. I have been there, outside and in their world, and seen what they are capable of." Throwing back his hood, a face was revealed with gasps from the people around him. His dark hair had been slicked back to expose a scar that had liberated him of half his face. It was mangled flesh, churned and charred with colors of pink, red, and even black. The right had barely been saved, the scar missing it only barely. His life side, however, could be called handsome and had even warrant a few flirts from human girls when he had been in disguise, though he himself had never bothered with such endeavors. Skin bronzed by the sun was covered in other, smaller scars and his eyes held the same yellow as the rest of theirs, but the iris was lined in a deep orange as well, almost glowing as he looked over his kind. "This is what humans do. Elves, dwarves, Grey Wardens, nobles, commoners. Everyone."
Now he stepped down from the pillar and as he searched through the crowd, he was sure to make eye contact with everyone there. Coming across one of the rare females in the crowd, he felt a dark tension rising from her, but hoped his words to come would help her understand. His eyes hardened as he took her in and when his lips moved, fangs caught moonlight that crept through the cracks in the foundation. "They will kill you. They will hunt you down. For years, I was taken prisoner by humans, kept like a slave, but treated like an animal. They did not kill me but that was a mistake." Jericho raised his hand and spread his fingers, an orange flame playing at the tips of his fingers, the same color in his eyes glowing brighter. "I possess a power that has never touched this earth. An Old God came to me, in my dreams, and gave me the power to liberate myself. And all of you. If you follow me, I promise you will have a future for yourselves." He stopped then, the glow and flames dying out instantly; he folded his arms within deep sleeves, bowing his head. "Follow me and you can howl at the moon any night you like and not fear being heard and hunted. Follow me and you will be able to stretch your legs to any part of this world without a bother." He let his words sink in, waiting for any answer or response before continuing.</s>
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Young Ashley Graham sat quietly by herself, the only sounds she made being weak whimpers as she tried to hold back tears due to the situation she was in. She had been kidnapped from her college and taken God knew where by these freaky men in cloaks who looked... stranger. Their faces just didn't look human anymore. Plus, their eyes almost seemed to glow red at times. She had no clue where she was, as she barely had any time to see her surroundings before the men just shoved her into this room and locked her in. She was alone and beyond terrified.
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Roaming around the city were the once fair citizens of Plagas. Something had happened to them though, they were far from fair. As they walked around and moaned and groaned, they had smelled the girl's perfume and flesh. She smelled fresh, something that many of the Plagas could not say if they could speak. She was in the church, they knew that, but getting to her was matter at hand. How were they going to? One of them started to pound on the heavy church door. The pounding sound grew louder and louder in each passing minute. For now, these Plagas were not hungry, they wanted something else. They wanted the girl's body. The pounding grew louder still, but unlucky for Miss Graham, there was already a Plagas in the church.
Once the minister of the church to the good people of Plagas, the man stumbled out of the shadows, still adorned in his minister gear. There was a steady stream of blood flowing from his mouth. Even God could not save him from this fate. With a roar, the thing charged her, with something besides feeding on his mind. As quickly as he had appeared, he had pinned her hands to the ground with his own, and was staring her down. The pounding seemed to stop as the minister snarled. This was not good for Miss Graham...</s>
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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.
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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.</s>
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Forte was riding around on his motorcycle, about to pick up his partner...Tifa. They had only recently started to work together...actually, this would be the first time they would actually be working together in a mission of some sort. Something Forte was more than thrilled about, seeing as he had a thing for Tifa. A huge thing for Tifa. Not afraid to touch her inappropriately, talk to her seductively, or talk to her like a fool either. Of course he could have a decent conversation with her, but really he just wanted to lay her down and fuck the night away.
Forte was just getting into the whole bounty hunter deal. In fact, this would also be one of the strongest people he'd ever gone after. Normally he helped with local crimes - people stealing things, all of that jazz. Petty criminals mostly. Recently, he was kicked out of his house because he was a lousy good-for-nothing. So now he was trying not to be such a lousy good-for-nothing and put some bread on the table. And killing things for money seemed like the perfect opportunity to do that.
He rolled up in front of Tifa's house (or apartment, wherever she lived), and tried to look inside to see if she was changing or anything. He revved his engine to let her know he was there.
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Tifa stepped out of the shower, towel wrapped around her body as well as her wet hair. She looked at the time and saw she had twenty minutes before her partners showed up to pick her up. She tossed her towel on the bed and picked up her bra, which slipped into it easily. It was new actually - black and lacy, and it clipped from the front. She picked up the matching black lace panties and slipped into them as well. Then she grabbed her new skirt, which she tugged up her legs, zipped it from the side, and looked at herself in the mirror. It was a loose-fitting, ruffled black skirt that stopped just under the curves of her ass. She liked it and it gave her mobility. The last piece of clothing was a tube top that showed midriff. She slipped into it, seeing the cotton stretch out a bit thanks to her large breasts. She shrugged and went to brush out her hair.
She heard an engine roaring and rolled her eyes. She met her partner some days ago, talking and wanting to get to know him better. Seemed he needed help, and she needed a partner since Cloud was off doing his own thing with Vincent. Tifa grabbed her gauntlets, slipped them on her hands, snatched a healing and elemental materia, and ran out of her small house. She locked the door and ran up to Forte, waving. "Took you long enough," she said, hopping in the back, her arms wrapping around his waist, her breasts pressing against his back. She would have used her bike, but damn Yuffie crashed it and was now being repaired. "You know where to go right?" She asked, hoping he knew and was good and ready for their first mission.</s>
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Alister Solaris studied the picture of his target. Besides knowing what she looked like, and the general area of where she was, Alister knew very little about her. When he had received the mission from the Alliance, they only told him of a few of her exploits. It made him skeptical of why they were paying him so much to capture her. As long as they paid him nicely, he didn't care. He had no loyalty to the Alliance as long as they paid the best. It only left him wondering why such a hefty price for a woman who didn't seem very formidable in the things that she had done (at least what they had told him she had done) or looked dangerous. None of it made him lose any sleep or frustrate him, with the exception that he did not know of her whereabouts. All he was told was that she was on a planet in the outskirts of the Galaxy. He had been there for a few days with no sign of her, asking around in various cities in hopes to hear something. Nothing. In all desperation, he found himself sitting at a bar, not expecting to find her but just to enjoy a drink.
Alister looked fairly normal, wearing a black vest over a plain white shirt, and grey cargo pants. All the normalities went away when one saw his backside- there was a lengthy, slim blade strapped across his back diagonally. A pistol on his hip, staying on his person by a belt, didn't help him look any more friendly. Had it not been for the weapons, he seemed very approachable. He seemed young, maybe in his mid twenties. His skin was sun kissed, a tanned white that only made his blue eyes shine out more against the whiteness of his eyes and his skin. His hair, like his skin, was tanned in color. It was close between a dirty blonde and a light brown.
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Kelly Luna had managed to stay off the radar for much longer than she'd expected. She imagined it had something to do with the way she looked--innocent, delightful, beautiful. But there was a tinge of hotness to her that made men lust after her in ways she didn't like to think of very often. At least not if she wasn't bored and lonely. She was aware that she was being tailed, but there was only so much running one could do before rest is needed. So Kelly found her way on this planet, biding her time until she felt she could go on again. She was downing her third drink when the obvious Alliance hire came in through the door.
Sure, the town was no stranger to tourists, but locals could see trouble when it came to them, and so could she. Just the quality of his clothes alone was a giveaway, not to mention the blatant weaponry. So obvious. She'd even caught him looking at a picture that he hid carefully. No doubt it was hers. No point in getting upset about it. She supposed it was really just a matter of time. Still, she wasn't sure if she could smooth talk her way out of this one.
Kelly didn't look like she would hurt a fly. There was a kind sort of peace to her face that put people at ease right away. Her smiling blue eyes stood out nicely in a pretty face that had the perfect size nose and full lips. She was simply beautiful. Her hair was a rich chestnut color--sort of like a liquor, fiery, but brown at the same time. At the moment it reached down her back in beautiful waves of soft, loose curls. And then there was her body. She wasn't perfect, but she could make a man stop in his tracks.
She was tall with long, curvy legs that ran into a tight ass and small waist--though she still looked healthy. And her chest was perfectly proportionate to her body--just big enough to be enjoyed to the fullest. The body in question was wearing tight jeans, a pair of high heeled boots and a sexy black shirt. She stretched, paid her tab and finished her drink before she got up and headed to the dance floor where people were already tearing it up.</s>
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Chun-Li looked left and right as she moved slowly onto the battlefield that she was supposed to be on. She was ready. She was dressed in her battle attire. She had been asked to do a friendly sparring match against one of the women she had fought before. She couldn't remember who it was that she fought in the future, but she was ready for whoever would challenge her. She stood in the center, waiting for her opponent to show herself. "Whoever you are," she called out, "come out! I am ready!"
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"Well, well, look who it is. Sexy little police girl Chun-li. Even when I'm not having my special kind of fun, you still manage to find me. You really do want in my pants," came the very familiar voice of Juri, one of Chun-li's most bitter enemies, as she seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"Can't say I'm surprised though. With the way you show off your body in that outfit, you're obviously trying to get a... special kind of attention from the people you fight," she added with a girlish, yet still rather evil little giggle as she taunted the woman.
"Hey, it works though. Gotta say, makes even me want to get in your panties," she continued, laughing loudly.</s>
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Bella coughed and kicked awake only to cramp her thigh. She was bound by something. She struggled against it to no avail. Alright Bella. Calm down. She controlled her breathing and tried to adjust her eyes. She couldn't see through the blindfold that had been placed on her. Shit.
"Fucking Covenant," she muttered as she rubbed her forehead against the ground to remove the blindfold. She was laying in one of the Covenant's portable holding cells. For pylons erected an energy barrier around her several yards wide. For some reason she was still in the wilderness. She would have expected to be on a carrier by now. Not in the middle of a jungle. What the hell were these creeps up to?
She managed to grit her teeth against the pain of the cramp and right herself, balancing on her bound feet and going to her knees. Shit where was this?
She shook her head and tried to remember anything leading up to this. Her head was pounding and she couldn't think straight. There...was a firefight. Jackals had overwhelmed the guard towers and they were ambushed...there...was an explosion...and brutes? That was all she could get.
"Fuck Bella. You always get into the worst don't you?" She was ready to die, so it didn't bother her. But she hated waiting, and she hated not taking a few down with her.
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A large Sangheili, or known by the humans as Elites, stepped out of the set up command post in their camp. He was ranked as a Zealot, one of the highest ranks Sangheili could achieve within the Covenant Hierarchy. He was stationed on this planet to see if the rumors were true, that there really was a Forerunner artifact on this pitiful human settled world. He hated this; the military here was small and there had been no sign of any artifact - at least as far as he knew. He looked over to see a human female in one of their prison cells. He let out a small reptilian growl and marched to the cell.
"Why does this human live!?" He spoke angrily to his underlings who stood in tow. The established protocol was to kill all the humans who were of no value. As far as he could see, this woman held no value, as of yet. One of the Unggoy, or grunts know to humans spoke through his ventilator. "S-Sorry sir... but all other humans were killed in the explosion, she's the only survivor... She might have information."
The Sangheili turned and pushed the Unggoy away. "Then go get the translator!... The human wench will be heavily interrogated," he said.
The Unggoy nearly fell over from the shove and he then spoke. "B-But sir... o-our translator was in the Phantom destroyed by their defenses..."
The Sangheili turned and grabbed the Unggoy's ventilator and pulled him close. "Than what use could she be to without a translator?!" He asked. The unggoy spoke back in desperation. "W-Well the men have been without release for months!... P-Perhaps she could be of use to please the men?" He cowered in the grasp of the Sangheili, knowing at any time he could be killed just to vent his anger.
However, the Sangheili considered his proposal. He looked back at the human and said, "... Perhaps she can... I will test her." He released the Unggoy, who scurried away as soon as he was free.
The sangeili stepped through the one-way shield into the cell, looking down at the human with a slight amount of amusement. He'd never done such a thing with a human female before; he thought it might be a good way to vent his hate for the humans. He reached down and began to remove the armor containing his large, deeply ridged cock.</s>
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The 20th and 21st centuries have brought about great advancements in technology, from computers that barely held a few megabytes to having huge amounts of data being a normal thing. Behind the scenes, the digital world has advanced far beyond what we thought it would. Virtually, another universe exists, a vast land with virtual wildlife and creatures. Strange monsters exist there, called Digital Monsters(Digimon). Several times special humans have been summoned and brought into the digital world to stop a threat and save both the real and digital realms from evil. Now is such a time.
Eric unlocked the door to his home, removing his shoes and setting his backpack down near the door. He headed into the kitchen, spotting a note from his dad and reading it while grabbing some stuff to eat. Apparently he had to work an extra shift and wouldn't be home til late. No big deal. The teen headed back into his room and turned on his best friend, the computer. While he had some people he hung out with, the computer and Internet were where he spent most time. Today though, something seemed different. After it turned on, instead of his desktop, a text box appeared. "You have been called. Are you ready?" it read, with a single button, reading 'Yes.' The boy was unsure, but, hoping it wasn't a virus, clicked yes and took a bite of the sandwich he'd made.
It happened in an instant. A flash and he was gone, digitized and sent into the digital realm. Black squares appeared in a forest, and his body fell out and onto the ground in a clearing, the disturbance quickly disappearing, leaving him unconscious there.
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Renamon was walking alone in the computer forest with a Golden Ovel-like digivice. She was about to be at the exact place she was told to go by a Digimon called Jeni. She remembered their conversation quite well.
Jeni had appeared in front of her out of thin air as if he had been there all along and smiled at Rinamon lightly. "Hello lass! I am Jeni and I have come to tell you something dreadful that you probably already know yourself, and I'm going to tell you some thing wonderful that you will just learn... now these lands have been darkened by a human who has forced himself up into our world by means unknown, and partnered himself up with an evil Digimon known as Ladydevimon. She is an evil and vile woman of a Digimon, both the human and her have destroyed and built black towers that send most weak minded and rookie level digimon into sexual frenzy's. These are dark times, and our world looks like it may become one with the darkness, and if this comes into play the human world will be next!" Renamon looked at the Human looking digimon in front of her dazed by what she had heard. There were stories in the east of things such as this but she had never believed them, but the look on his face told her it was all true. She licked her lips and cleared her thoughts before speaking to him. "But if this is happening how can we stop this human and Ladydevimon? I mean, she must be so powerful to have done all this." Jevi looked at her one eye opening eye. "Yes, she is," he said. "It is uncertain if this is true, but from the power she possesses it might be."Renamon fell to her knees, fear taking her body. 'No... if she is there, is there any way our world can live?' Jeni shook his head. 'Either dead or recruited into their ranks for their greed and lust.' Renamon closed her eyes. But hope not my lady, for you shall save us!' Renamon's eyes shot open as she looked at Jeni like he was mad. It has been fortold by old that a human will come and help you save our world from this darkness. You will need this.' He gave her a golden Ovel-like digivice and smiled. Go to the computer number 56481-0, a human will appear there to help you on your quest.' Renamon got up, staring in wonder at the digivices and knew all the stories of humans coming to their world and saving them with the power of Digivices that digivolved their digimon into unstoppable Digimon some of them had become a level beyond Mega and fought enemy's that were so strong it seemed all was lost. She looked at Jeni in wonder as he spoke again. 'Now go and be careful!' And with that he disappeared.
That was the last time she saw him as she got to the computer. She saw it was blinking, showing a little e-mail symbol. 'You got mail! Will you take it?' She clicked yes and the screen lit up like a flashlight. She jumped back and hid behind a tree. As the light stopped, she looked around to see a male human on the ground passed out. She went over to him and pushed him onto his back. She looked at his face lightly. 'So this is a human. I was expecting something a little more... well, well never mind.' She shook him lightly. 'Wake up human, wake up! This is not your bed, and no time to be laying on the ground...'"</s>
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A light flipped on in a small bedroom upstairs. Kiki looked around her new room in dismay. She hated moving A LOT. The worst part about it all was the unpacking portion. So many damn boxes. Grumbling, she moved over to her bed and cleaned it off. Well, at least now she'd be able to go to sleep when she was finished. Her parents had gotten on her case about her room and said it was high time she accepted this new house. So she decided to unpack finally.
Kiki was normally a well-behaved girl and never caused any trouble. But she never liked moving much, and on top of it all there was something about this house she didn't like. Picking up a random box, she set it on her bed and began to sort through it. Halfway through it, her blue eyes focused on a picture. Picking it up, she looked over it. It was of her and her friends from her old school. Biting her bottom lip, she dropped it back into the box.
She couldn't do this right now. She was still highly uncomfortable and sad. Having always been socially awkward, it had been hard to make friends. Now it would be hard all over again. She brushed her long raven black hair over her shoulders and sat on her bed. Sighing, she flopped backwards and closed her eyes. Oh, what a day. Even though it was only six, she felt so drained. Maybe if she took a nap, with that thought in mind, she let herself drift off...
It was just another dream. One of the many reoccurring dreams she had had throughout her life. This one was about her elementary days. Third grade had always been one of her favorite years because her teacher, Mrs. Purdy, had been one of her favorite teachers of her entire school career. There was never really anything odd about these dreams. She was just in class answering questions. It always started out like this. They were always the same questions too. Math questions, to be exact. She watched eagerly from her desk as Mrs. Purdy scribbled problems on the board.
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If anyone had ever bothered to ask - which they hadn't, since conversations with him tended to be short-lived - Freddy Krueger would have said he didn't regret his decision.
No, he had never once regretted his choice when the eponymous Dream Demons had come to him with their offer - after all, what total yutz wouldn't have taken them up on it? After being burned alive, the sound of 'eternal life' had been music to his mangled, melted ears, and the job was nice and cushy - well suited to all of Krueger's particular talents. Right up his metaphysical alley.
So he hadn't hesitated when they'd presented him with a delightfully new kind of eternal damnation, he hadn't even protested at the idea that he might never take on an actual physical form again - though he'd even managed to bend that rule a few times, too. Ultimately, he had set into his new incorporeal lifestyle with gusto and, well - it hadn't always turned out the way he'd planned. As it turned out, a few of the Elm Street kids had gotten better at surviving these days.
Ever since the introduction of the newly FDA approved Hypnocil to Springwood, Freddy's fun had been dying off - kids were popping pills like glam rock junkies to keep the boogeyman away. They thought they were safe; they told themselves the fear was gone because he was being kept at bay by their medications and their rules, but the very fact that they were registering and monitoring their teenagers like endangered animals was evidence enough that the fear was still very much alive in them.
He just needed a gateway.
Without one, Freddy Krueger was just a ghoul lurking from dream to dream; his legend hadn't extended far past Springwood, rendering his powers useless, making him the equivalent of the monster in the closet or the ghost under the bed. What he needed was a mind that wasn't blocked off by Hypnocil, one that he could use, because being reduced to a scary face in some middle-aged mother's dream wasn't good enough.
Making someone wake up in a cold sweat was old hat, he needed something more tangible. He needed the fear to come alive again, he needed his name out in Springwood once again - the teens he had played with so long ago, they were having kids of their own these days. They had grown up into teenagers who hadn't even heard of him, an entire generation unspoiled by his existence just wouldn't do.
Just one would suffice. More was better, but he only needed one. Just one sweet, delightfully teenage mind for him to defile, one to relieve him of the boredom that was plaguing his existence.
He could never be sure of how much time had passed since he had last been in the forefront of Springwood's collective memory, but it was long enough for him to pass from town to town and city to city in search of something, anything to tide him over.
But very recently, something was tugging him back again, a gut instinct that was pulling him unresistingly back to Elm Street, back to the warm, fiery place in his rotted out chest cavity, all the way back to where it began.
1428.
And there she was, encapsulated in her dream, sitting in class, a teenager surrounded by her tiny schoolmates, her pale hand in the air as she eagerly answered Mrs. Purdy's questions. For a moment, Freddy chewed on the shimmering, razor sharp tip of a claw, trying to quell his own eagerness, relishing the moment as he considered what angle to approach this from.
He couldn't waste this, not when she was his only link.
No, he needed her fear to gain strength.
"Carpe diem." Freddy said, shrugging his thin shoulders; time to seize the day. Or night, in his case.
Mid-way through writing out a simple equation, Mrs. Purdy stopped what she was doing and back pedalled, her hand jerking suddenly to the left side of the board as though it was moving against her will and she began writing a new equation:
1+2
One boy in the class mechanically put up his hand,
"Three?"
Mrs. Purdy didn't respond, instead, she began slashing the chalk violently against the board, writing in big, messy letters:
1+2= COMING FOR YOU
3+4= LOCK YOUR DOOR
The chalk in the school teacher's hand had been rapidly depleted by her violent scrawl but her hand continued to move, grinding her fingers into the board, an action that caused her nails to snap and her fingertips to begin blossoming blood, which began to replace the chalk.
5+6=
Mrs. Purdy, bloody and crazed with pain, turned robotically on the spot and pointed a broken, mangled finger at Kiki.
"You," she said shrilly, "Come up here and write the answer!"</s>
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On Mount Olympus, realm of the Greek pantheon, a world fitting for the gods who live there can be found. It is a palace of inhuman proportion, lavished with the finest materials that would impress even the wealthiest king of the world below. Each section is devoted to a certain god, Hephaestus in his forge, Zeus in his throne, and Ares in his chamber. Ares, however, is no more. The new God of War, Kratos, has emerged as a powerful force in his own right. Some of the other gods worry about the newcomer. Afraid he will one day become too wild. It was Aphrodite who suggested that they appease him by offering the one thing no man would refuse, tight pussies.
It was a trick within a trick really; the love goddess merely wants a ride on the Ghost of Sparta's huge cock, but even she knows that one woman can never be enough. She fucked him for days and days until even her goddess endurance failed her. Devising a new ploy, the love goddess decided to bless the god of war with her powers of love. As she sucked on his thick rod, Aphrodite imbued him with the power to captivate any woman completely with his cock. Hephaestus, eager to keep the Spartan away from his wife, decided to present his two most loyal servants, the Alexandra sisters.
And so the two awaited their master, lying down on a large bed where Kratos conquered the love goddess herself. The two were very eager for action, each one dying for a taste of a god's cock. "What off your husband, sister?" Cassandra asked, lying on her sides. "What off him? I only want a god's cock," the older sister replied, licking her lips.
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Only a month has passed since Kratos became the new God of War, after having killed Ares, and he could feel that the gods were wary of him becoming an immortal when Athena granted him the power of the gods and he took over the throne that Ares once sat in. And so he went to her. And he did just that, as he went to her throne room and fucked her endlessly day in and day out, although there would be breaks in between but they didn't last that long. When Kratos had finally fucked the endurance out of Aphrodite, she was beginning to bore him, and he could tell that she knew. She could have been upset with him for that fact, but since she could no longer keep up with him, she seemed to be satisfied, and knew it was time to move on and go back to her husband Hephaestus. In return, to make sure Kratos stayed clear away from Aphrodite from now on, if she were to get back the endurance to keep up and crave a better man such as Kratos himself, Hephaestus gave him two girls that had been his servants for ages, and two girls were always better than one. Hephaestus knowing Kratos wouldn't be able to resist, and once the deal was done, Kratos never saw Aphrodite again.
As the servants waited in Kratos's throne room, which was once Aphrodite's, the portal on the right side of the wall of the room flickered, and then Kratos came through it, arriving back on Mount Olympus after having been on a journey that involved him visiting his deceased wife and child's graves. Seeing his two servants lying there on the bed, Kratos dropped both his blades of chaos on the floor, and kicked off his sandals before removing his loin cloth from around his waste, now standing totally naked. Walking over to the bed, he climbed up on it, and laid down in between both Cassandra and Sophitia, wrapping each arm around both of their shoulders.</s>
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Always busy in the training room with Ahsoka, Anakin often thinks about his beloved wife back home and wishes that he could spend more time with her. But with Padme by his side, he can use her as well...
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Ahsoka looked up at Anakin, who was still gazing past her longingly. "Must be thinking of the wife," she thought with a touch of jealousy. It had been some time now that they had been training together, and often she found herself wishing that he would teach her more than just the Force.</s>
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This could go as quick and as painless as possible, however she wasn't even quite sure if she should use the ammunition. She could just so easily let this scene play out as it soon would if she didn't take the three shots needed, breathing out softly as the first shot was taken. 'Fire one, down.' There went the, what she assumed anyway, was the husband of the lovely family, shaking her head lightly as she heard the noise of the ones behind her. She knew that they had to be careful out here, as not to trigger anything unnecessary coming their way, although they knew it was rather serene out here. They couldn't stay here for too long however, though the female took another faint inhale and breathed out again, second walker hitting the ground in a sputtering mess. Then came the last of the family trio, the one who seemed to be running, or whatever the hell you considered running in their case, the fastest. She was the 'youngest', mentally judging her at being at least fourteen before the outbreak wrecked her and her family. " Fire three, down. " Well, she certainly wouldn't be going to her prom, or make it to her sweet sixteen, scrunching her nose faintly as the shot connected, blowing out a portion of her brain from the front. Whistling softly to herself as she released the gun and leaned back on her hands, the female looked over her shoulder as two gentlemen from their group so promptly moved down the ladder of the barn. Obviously, the one making his getaway from the zombies wasn't infected, as she noticed by the evident fear across his face when looking through a pair of make shift binoculars.
"Another survivor," they said in unison, noticing that Anna had sat promptly on some hay. They knew what could potentially happen in this situation, having already discussed what to do if anything went wrong outside of the barn. You had to plan for every scenario when living in an apocalypse, no matter how safe you thought somewhere was. Her honey-colored eyes stared down and out the window, seeing the man who had been fighting off the infected slow his pace slightly, fingers running through her loose curls of blonde hair. "We'll see how this one goes then, shall we?" she asked, taking a step forward with her gun raised. Black boots hit the wooden floorboards as both women stood ready at the top of the barn, guns at the ready, just in case something out of place happened. The years had passed tremendously since the first outbreak of the infection, but it hadn't necessarily been for the better. The cities had been hit the hardest, after all their populations were the largest compared to the countryside, although once it did reach the country, the animals were the first to show signs of illness. Dying cattle, dying animals, and crows pecking at their bodies, spreading the disease even faster. It had already been established to them that whoever had screwed this up, really messed up big time.
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"Fucking shit!" he cursed. "Fucking shit! Fucking shit! Fucking shit!" This was ridiculous. One minute he was looking down to grab his cell phone and the next minute out jetted a wild deer. He didn't know if it was rabid and infectious, running from possible zombies, or just trying to find a drink of water. Either way, he didn't give a damn what its objective was; he was just wondering why the hell it had to stand right in front of his car at that exact moment. Why the fuck didn't it keep going? Was it God's payback for ruining his perfect little race? He read in a magazine once that when a deer ran out into the middle of the street, you were supposed to just ram it and you wouldn't end up spinning out and hitting a tree. However, the good doctor couldn't help but swerve. He didn't give a shit about deer and didn't care for their beauty. So why didn't he hit the little bastard? He was driving a very expensive piece of machinery. It was as simple as that. It was his love for money and expensive cars that landed him in the situation he was in just then.
Swerving frantically from left to right, he tried to gain control over his Benz. However, his attempts were futile; as soon as he got the thing going straight again, he flew off the side of the highway and down a steep hill, flying straight into a tree. Good thing he had his seatbelt on. Well, at least one thing went right in his life for once. Groaning softly, the brunette weaseled himself from the wrecked vehicle. His body felt weak, his head a little light. However, the world was falling into an apocalypse, and he wasn't about to be eaten alive by the flesh-eating bio-weapons he had created. As he tried to pull himself together, he could have sworn he heard a sound deeper into the woods. He wasn't sure, but he wasn't sticking around to confirm whether it was merely him hallucinating or his time on earth coming to an end.
He moved quicker despite his body wanting to just give out, gathering a case from the back seats. Slowly but surely, he made his way up the hill his car just had to fall down. Once he'd made it back onto the road, he started on his way. On his travels, he ran across a pit stop, and to his luck, it looked deserted. Looks could always be deceiving, but he didn't give a damn at the sight of a white van sitting in the lot of the gas station waiting ever so patiently for him. Maybe there was a god, and he wanted him to succeed in fixing what he'd inevitably fucked up. He was quick and silent with his movements as he made his way over to the piece of shit rotting van that was to be his transportation. No matter how much it pained him to think of riding in such an embarrassment, he had to get over it. This was a matter of life and death. He hadn't the time to waste on finding a better ride. It wasn't as if zombie chicks gave a shit what he drove anyway; either way, they'd be pushing at each other to get a taste of him.
Not to the brunette's surprise, there weren't any keys in the van. With a smile, he hopped in anyway. Having a shady past had its perks, and right now it was showing a rather convenient one. Working his magic, Nathaniel managed to hotwire the car. Once it started up, he was pulling out of the lot so fast that he thought he might give himself whiplash. At the speed he was driving, it took him less time than he thought to reach his destination. Even in the world's darkest hour, rural areas still looked beautiful. Driving up to a large house on a larger farm, he parked at the front door. There was a huge barn pretty far from the house; he figured he would check it out once he was done rummaging through the house. The ride into the city was going to be an excruciatingly long one, and he needed some supplies. He probably should have raided the gas station, but he'd gotten too excited about the car and pulled away with a large majority of his concentration. Pulling forth a small black pistol from the case he held so close that you'd think his heart were in it, he started on his way into the house.
Everything happened so fast. One moment he was checking the kitchen cabinets, case and first-aid kit in hand, and the next he was screaming like a little bitch. The combat training he had under his belt did him no good under the extreme paranoia he was in as he searched the home for what he deemed valuable. The gun he had, evidently, he couldn't aim it correctly because he was holding too much. So what did he do? He ran so fast, one could have sworn he was the Flash. If he could make it to the car, if he could make it to the car, if he could make it to the car, he was going to jet straight by it because the angry zombie family behind him was gaining on his ass. All he needed was some distance, and he would drop everything and start picking them off. All he needed was a good distance, so he could drop to the floor and start wasting ammunition. Sparkling emerald eyes caught sight of the barn, and that would be his place for space - that is, if he didn't trip first, sprain his ankle, and get eaten alive. Yup, God hated him and was punishing him for the plague he had bestowed upon the world. "I'm gonna fucking trip," he told himself as one of the first-aids lodged itself from his arms and dropped onto the grassy field below. It was then that his right hand was free, the hand he had no fucking aim with, the one that oddly enough he had the gun in. "I'm gonna die anyway," he murmured as he looked back and let off a couple of shots at the family of four hoping he killed at least one. One of the zombies, the man of the house probably, suddenly dropped. Now, he knew damn well he hadn't shot the guy but continued to run, not looking back until he heard the last body drop. With a heavy sigh, the doctor dropped to his knees trying to catch his breath.
"Well...no more checking into random houses without a bag..." the male thought to himself. Once he'd caught his breath and his legs didn't feel so much like noodles, he stood to his feet and turned to face the barn. Quickly, he made his way into their clever little hiding spot. Two women, and two men. Hmmm.. Those were quite surprising numbers seeing where they were and all. He doubted however, their numbers would stay the same once they reached a city. That is....if they wanted to travel alongside him.
"Well... well I certainly wasn't expecting such a lovely welcoming party my first day here on the countryside," he said with a smile. "Thanks for saving my life. My name is Alexander Rhodes. I'm going into the next city, would you like a ride?" Was it necessary to lie about his name? Perhaps. Their hometown could have been the stupidest place in America, but it didn't stop the fact that perhaps they could recognize his real name and know who he was and shoot him on sight. The doctor preferred to travel alone, but whoever that sharpshooter was, he thought they would make a lovely backup.</s>
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Katara woke, ready for the day. It was always bitter cold, but it was the South Pole, what would you expect? Sokka was doing as he always did, pretending to be a hotshot captain and trying to train the children to fight for when the next Fire Nation attack came.
She kissed GranGran's forehead, hugging the woman before turning and walking to the water's edge. Staring into the water, she suddenly remembered her mother and fingered her necklace. It was getting harder and harder to remember what her mother looked like. Did Sokka have that same problem?
As if it were yesterday, she could see the black Fire Nation ship approach, the fire and ash pouring into the sky and drifting to the pure snow around them. She looked around her. Ash? The ground was littered with it. Surprised, she looked up in horror to see that it wasn't her imagination or a memory. The Fire Nation approached!
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Anzoh was growing more excited with each passing minute as his personal ship approached the South Pole. Ever since the Fire Lord had declared that the nobles of the Fire Nation may take slaves from any member of the Water Tribes that they captured, he had been looking forward to this. At twenty-three years old, he had no family and a great deal of wealth...and soon he would have his own personal slave to serve him in any way that he desired.
As the ship drew closer, he stood on the prow, his assembled mercenaries behind him and ready to move on his word. The plan was to storm the village and find a lovely young woman to take home with him; how quickly they did so and how beautiful the woman they found would affect their bonus. It seemed that fate might have something different in mind though because as they drew close enough to make out individual tribesmen, he could see the perfect slave to be at the water's edge. Even from the distance, he could see her great beauty and knew that she was the one he desired.
That one, he said, pointing to his chosen victim, flexing a little in the Fire Nation armor he wore. "I will take that one," he said. "The rest of you will hold back unless I need you." As the ship crashed into the ice and the front dropped down to allow him to descend, he approached his to-be slave, a swagger in his step. "I would suggest you come with me quietly," he told her with a sneer on his lips. "Fighting will only end up getting you hurt, and I don't want to damage my property."</s>
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Slowly, darkness became light, sight gradually returning to Yuna. The ex-summoner, champion who'd defeated Sin and saved the world blinked away the darkness, her mismatched eyes attempting to adjust to the new light. She could barely see, and what she could see, she didn't recognize. She didn't even remember how she'd gotten here; one moment, she'd been with the others, the next, she was here. Yuna felt somewhat light headed, more than a little dazed, and found that no amount of shaking her head was helping immediately. Most likely she'd been drugged or spelled to get here, wherever here was.
Looking down, Yuna saw that she was still in her usual gunner outfit, with seemingly no changes. However, as she attempted to move, Yuna noticed two things: first, that she was held down, paralyzed by something and she hadn't quite figured out what yet; second, that all her spells had been removed, as well as her weapons. The girl was essentially bound, helpless, and laying somewhere she didn't recognize.
"This isn't good," she muttered. Yuna thrashed, attempting to get free, only to find that whatever it was that held her, and she still hadn't quite figured out whether it was spell, beast, or simple rope, wasn't giving her room to move just yet. The girl let out a moan of frustration, before sinking back into the chair.
"Paine!? Rikku!? Anybody!? Help!?" she tried calling, hoping that someone, hopefully one of her friends, heard her call and came to her rescue. Because for now, all the ex-summoner, hero of the world, etc. could manage was some weak struggling and a good yell, hardly enough to stage an escape.
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Standing just behind the girl struggling to escape, Rikku had been waiting for the female to wake up. Pulling off the sleeves and scarf and slipping down her mini-skirt, Rikku stood once more in her new dress-spheres costume. The rest had been a part of her ploy to make things seem as 'normal' as possible to anyone that may have seen her, though with all the male crew out on shore leave and Paine hiding herself away as usual, it would have been unlikely for her to have done so but it was always better to be safe then sorry. Standing there in just a yellow bikini top and bottom, Rikku waited a little longer before she would have her fun with the bound female.
Let the girl struggle, Rikku thought to herself. You know that hearing her scream and trying to wiggle her way to safety is only making this sweeter for you. Even Rikku was having trouble ignoring the voice in her head now, it sounded as if it was speaking to her soul. Plus it was true, Rikku could feel herself becoming excited from watching Yuna, her soaked bikini bottoms were evident of that.
All the trouble had started when she had found that dress-sphere. Rikku should have waited for Yuna and Paine to get back so they could investigate it together but she had been so excited she had tried it immediately. Now, Rikku was not regretting the decision, in fact every part of her body was screaming for more, to take it further. Grinning to herself, Rikku watched the back of Yuna's head, her whole body dying to take advantage of her now.
Why take advantage now when you can wait and savour something much more fun...?Rikku's inner sexual libido told her.
By the time Rikku decided to do anything, her body was full of lust and want for the savior of Spira. Her bikini bottoms were soaked through from her lust and stretched tight from the extra addition this dress-sphere had given her. Male genitalia, as well as her own, were now positioned on the groin of her body, both reacting positively to the thought of what Rikku had planned. Placing a hand on Yuna's shoulder, Rikku whispered quietly to her, her lips brushing slightly against the other female's ear. "Yuna, it's me Rikku. I'm here to help..." A smile crossed the female's lips as she thought of the 'help' she planned to give the girl. "Just stay still and I'll do what I can..."
Walking round to the front of the bound chair, her hips swaying from side to side in the way only a female trying to entice another person knew how, Rikku stood in front of Yuna, drinking in the sight of the bound female. "You know Yuna... Secretly, I think I've always wanted to see you like this," Rikku told her, jumping up and down on the spot slightly, her usual personality traits slipping through the undying lust. "Maybe we could help each other out? 'Kay?!" Smirking to the girl, Rikku slipped onto Yuna's lap straddling her body with her legs as she looked deep into Yuna's eyes. "I have a bit of a problem you see? And your the perfect person to help!" Rikku glanced down at the erect member pushing out of her bikini now, some of the shaft and head visible above the material. With a grin, Rikku took Yuna's face in her hands before giving her the most passionate kiss of her life.
The kiss was long, deep and full of Rikku's lust for Yuna at that point in time. Rikku held Yuna's face still so that the female could not move during Rikku's show of affection. As she pulled back, Rikku licked her lips seductively, tasting Yuna's lips again. "So you'll help me right Yuna?!"</s>
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The bloody World War between Allies, Soviets, and The Empire of Rising Sun raged for a year now. It was a conflict for total domination, no alliances were held, and peace was not an option. Allies would not rest until the totalitarian regimes of the world were destroyed; Imperials believed that it is their divine destiny to rule the world, and Soviets were determined to make the world a single, glorious Soviet Republic. These times of total war spawned many heroes, such as Natasha Volkova, champion of the Soviet Union.
Being a sharpshooter, she alone had terminated over seven hundred enemy troops, being a commando, she had infiltrated enemy lines numerous times, and being a hero, she had inspired countless soldiers to join the cause of Communism, even more to die for it. No Allied or imperial soldier felt safe from her sniper rifle when she was on the "hunt." Present on every recruiting poster, mentioned in every military academy, she was a paragon for her people, an Angel of Death for her enemies. Her mere presence on the battlefield inspired her troops and had a devastating effect on enemy morale.
But now she was in peril. The assault on the Allied city, Genewa, was a failure. The enemy used a strange new tech called "chronosphere" to bring in huge amounts of reinforcement. The Soviet forces were encircled and are now getting slaughtered. The enemy had both land and air superiority, and it seemed that the small part of the city the Soviets had managed to capture would become their graveyard.
But Natasha would not surrender. Not to the capitalist pigs. Not to anybody. She was making her last stand in the ruins of one of the houses they had captured. With deadly precision of her sniper rifle, she was taking down every soldier that got in range, killing as many Allies as she could before her time ran out. But she was running out of ammo, and she could see the enemy bombers on the horizon. Her last thought before the bombs fell on her position was that she had fulfilled her duty to the People.
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America, the bright and beautiful is what Major Dominic Franke loved and would die for. His parents were immigrants from the fallen Iron Curtain of the USSR, and he had grown up hearing horror stories about Communism and the things done in its name. He joined up nearly a decade ago to help keep things quiet on the border but when war broke out, he found his calling. True, he wasn't a large-scale commander or leader of troops; instead, Dominic specialized in something a little more specific - intelligence, specifically extraction of it. Normally, his job was just dealing with double agents and defectors, people who came to him and told him everything they knew. Dominic would then filter what was useful from what wasn't and pass it along to higher ups. This time, however, he had been given a much more interesting job. A recent bombing run had decimated a Soviet-held region of the city, and Allied forces moved in right away to secure the area. When there, they had found the infamous sniper Natasha Volkova, reportedly responsible for over five hundred kills. The celebrity in her home land had been found alive and brought in. And Dominic would have the pleasure of breaking her to find out what she knew. In order to learn whatever he could, Dominic had been granted carte blanche. Anything he needed to do to break her, the Soviets would see this hero broken by Allied forces, shown that they weren't the only ones who could be monstrous.
In his dress uniform, stripped of rank pins and ribbons, Dominic entered the cell where Natasha was being held. Happy to see that she was naked and tied to a chair as he had instructed, he said, holding up a file with her picture clipped to the front of it. "Soviet hero and now captive of the Allied forces," he began, not wasting time asking her to surrender. Instead, he stated the obvious: "I will hurt you, humiliate you... I will break you, and I will enjoy every moment of it." Setting down the folder, he smirked a little. She had claimed at least three people he called friends. Without warning, he lashed out, the back of his hand across her face serving as an opening movement.</s>
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As Krystal opened her eyes, she felt an intense pain in her head. It went away as she adjusted to the amount of light in the room. Where was she? She gasped, sitting up on her elbows as she looked around the hut she was in. She had been flying her fighter and had been ambushed by strange creatures who'd used her once they overpowered her. And then they all went down. The kitsune could still feel their traces on her soft skin. Her light complexion was only enhanced by her silvery fur. Both were contrasted with her dark hair, cut a bit shorter for her pilot's training. Instead of the ponytail it was usually in when she was flying, it was down now, resting just on her bare shoulders.
And that was when she became aware of her strange garments. Rather than her flight suit, she was in a rather scant amount of white and gold armor that barely covered her back side or legs, and the top was merely a glorified bra in the guise of a chest plate. She sat up rather abruptly and stood, her tail swaying to keep her balance as she looked around the room. No one else seemed to be around just now, but the door didn't seem to be guarded. She walked toward the outside, her blue eyes scanning the area for more. Where the hell was she? What happened to her fighter? Why was she dressed like this?
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Skar couldn't have been happier when he heard that the fighter pilot known as Krystal had been knocked from the sky in her territory, all alone and her fighter too damaged to send out a retrieval signal in order to draw some help to her. At the time of the landing she had apparently been unconscious and Skar had found her in the 'care' of several of his Saurians. Of course he wanted to possess her for himself, as the largest around, the leader of an entire legion of Saurians, he could have whatever he wanted and the others merely grumbled to themselves when he took her from them.
Once he had her in his palace he had made his personal concubines clean her and dress her in more proper clothing, something befitting his pet. Now he had just been informed that she was up and about and the large red Saurian stood, stripping off his armor until he stood nude and moved toward the room where she was kept, pushing the door open and towering over his new pet with a sharp-toothed grin spreading across his face, his shaft sliding from the sheath, already slick and ready for her. "Glad to see you're awake, my pet," he said softly, his voice a deep growl. "You are lucky I found you. Some of the locals were getting ready to take advantage of your supple unconscious form, but I would rather have you awake so you can enjoy what I am going to do to you."</s>
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He starts increasing his stroke, her pussy squirting, as his dick works its way forward and back. He groans in delight, slowly feeling his orgasm work its way up, but he fights to keep it down. He lightly growls into her ear, "When I cum, so do you."
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Hinata screamed into her panty gag, eyes wide. She nodded at her master's orders but was barely able to comprehend them at this point. Her body was in control, not her mind, and it was amazing. Her white eyes stared blankly up at Naruto, almost rolling back in her head with every thrust. She wasn't thinking straight, only thinking about the pleasure that coursed through her body.</s>
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The sunlight beamed down on the young elf. Himeko Kiryu was being woken up by her wolf Haji as he was tugging on her leg to wake his mistress up. "Nnnn... Knock it off Haji..." She groaned, rolling over in her bed. He barked loudly as he continued to try to get her out of bed. "Damnit! Fine I'm up! I'm up!" Getting out of bed slowly, she looked at the clock. "Fuck! I'm late!" She was supposed to meet her friend at 10:30am and it was almost 10 already! She rushed around to get her clothes as she tried not to waste any more time. Finally dressed, she headed out the door with Haji following behind her. "Damnit I cannot believe I overslept!" She cursed as she ran into town. She was average height for a Night Elf, her breasts were a little bigger than normal, but to her they were perfect size. She had long black hair that she kept tied up in a ponytail. She had unique markings on her face, rare markings. Passing the Stormwind guards as she ran further into town, she finally reached her friend. "Sorry I'm late," she said, smiling softly.
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This wasn't the first time her friend had been late for one of their meetings. Though it didn't upset the draenei 'girl' too much. She stood at their meeting spot, a large smile on her face as various people passed by. She had quite an aura about her, one of seduction. She was just confident in herself, though still naive in such pleasures. She was a young priestess, so she had never really been allowed such things. However, she was no normal woman either. Beneath the thing cloth robes she wore today for their meeting, and underneath the small, light blue boy shorts she was wearing. Was a rather large gift that she kept hidden from everyone.
The draenei shifted her hips, her butt moving with her, causing her tail to sway. Having no idea what she was doing to all the males that were passing by. The thin robe didn't do much to hide her cleavage. Not having the largest breasts, but enough for her tastes, sitting at a small c cup. Finally she saw her friend approaching, and temptation rushed through her. She blushed as she watched the girl's breasts bounce, and hips sway. Coming closer to greet her. "That's okay dear. It's not the first time.." Cerrah giggled and took her friend's hand in her own, not really aware what it could mean. "Where should we go to eat?"</s>
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"Day Three, A.E.," a sultry, slightly whimsical (and quite miffed) voice spoke at a gentle whisper. It belonged to a lavender-skinned female with black hair that made shadows look illuminated. But lavender skin or not, nobody would mistake her for a Night Elf. No, this lady was barely even considered a lady. She was a succubus, former slave to a warlock whom she'd been able to escape and disbind herself from. An amazing talent for sure. Obviously she'd have had to be very powerful to do such a thing.
Not really. She'd gotten loose by a combination of her owner imbibing a (not so) healthy portion of alcohol, and a little work of seduction. Thankfully he'd not gotten to fulfill his intent. Orcs were not her aesthetic. But all that didn't matter with her stuck in a net suspended under some of those blasted trees those elves love so much.
She did have a plan though. "I hope the one who set this is a weaker mind. I can use a little seduction to get them to let me loose, I'm sure. Anything to get away from my former master."
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Himeko was a proud huntress who loved exotic and rare pets. She had stumbled upon a lone succubus a few days ago and she figured if warlocks could have them at their side, why not her? She wanted to make this tame perfect and flawless. To be the first huntress to ever tame a demon, let alone a succubus. Being a Blood Elf she had the thirst for the forbidden fruit, and to tame something that wasn't a beast was forbidden and never even heard of. She knew what these demons were capable of doing and knew not to give into them. But she had never dealt with one before like this, and here she had one trapped in a nice net.
Himeko was normal size for a female Blood Elf, with beautiful green flowing eyes and long black hair which she kept tied up in a ponytail. She had a nice slim and perfect figure, all the other girls were jealous of her body. Her wolf Haji had been watching over the demon while she left to get more supplies for this tame. When she had gotten back she stepped in front of the succubus, avoiding eye contact with her. "I see you fell into my trap demon. I've been watching you for some time now and being a huntress who seeks out rare and exotic pets, I just knew I had to have you as mine!" she said as she started to get ready for her tame.</s>
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Outside the castle walls, snow was starting to fall, and in the large rolling grounds around Hogwarts Castle, students were enjoying the change of seasons and the first snow of the year. The hallways around the place were rather quiet, with a majority of the students having started to depart for home for the holidays and Christmas, while those who remained were making the most of the soft snow outside, exchanging snowballs with different groups and building snowmen all around the grounds.
Inside the castle, Hermione Granger had been enjoying the snow for a different reason. The quiet hallways were productive for thought as she strolled through them on her way to the library, dressed in her favorite soft lavender sweater and old faded jeans that had seen a few years already. The hallways were decorated in their usual festive decorations but Hermione ignored them as she walked, her mind already in the library and the books she was headed there to find. The quiet of the day just made her favorite place in the castle more appealing, and she knew that despite the slight chill in the hallway from the stone walls, she would find a nice fire somewhere in the warren of books and a comfy chair in which to pursue her research. Rounding the last corner, she looked forward to the warmth of the fire and brushed a stray strand of her wavy hair out of her face and behind her ear absentmindedly as she focused her thoughts on the pathway she needed to take through the shelving units to make her way to where she wanted to go.
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Elsewhere in the castle, the Boy was getting ready to go out and do some studying of his own. He knew with most of the students gone, he could sneak into the Library without any distractions from the students or the teachers really. There were a few books he had heard about in the restricted section that seemed worth reading into. Some books on his heritage and the dark arts the older Slytherins needed to explore and figure out what he could do. He was already learning a lot from some teachers and his family's personal library but he wanted some of the more rare books the school was known for.
Smoothing back his inky black hair, the boy checked himself in the mirror. One of his rules was always be sharp. So he made sure he looked like a hundred galleons before he even left the room. Shoes shined, check. Black jeans which looked brand new with a green vest that was crisp and lighter toned on the back side. His white button-up shirt looked crisp and was tight against his quidditch player's body. He was the backup Seeker after all. If Malfoy didn't have all the money, he may have been the main one. A soft growl given a little about the fact that Pounce who was everything a Slytherin should not be still being Seeker over him.
Turning from the Mirror, he slid on his leather bracelet and put on his violet-tinted glasses as he smiled. His bowler flipped onto his head, and he began down towards the library to get the books he needed. He would turn into the library and saw...the golden girl all alone. He grinned a little and moved towards her now she didn't have that Pouncetweed Weasley hanging all over her trying to shove anyone who was male except Harry away. He thought waited to see where she was going, curious about what she was coming study. She was one of few people in school above him in grades. Her and the Ice Queen Greengrass.</s>
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It wasn't every day that your boyfriend came home with a moving truck and suddenly announced that you and him were now leaving the apartment that you had been living in for the past couple of months for good. However, it was nothing new for Roxas. The move was sudden, terribly sudden. Axel came home from work only a few hours ago and basically just started packing up their things. Roxas was alarmed at first, nagging the other to tell him exactly what was going on, but Axel didn't really speak much and basically just said that he was sick of the place. It wasn't unlike Axel to do this, they'd done it twice before in the past twelve months, but he promised that they'd actually stay at the last place. Obviously that was a lie. However, Roxas wasn't too incredibly upset by the move. He was a little miffed that Axel started to pack up the pillows while he was laying on them, but he got over that quickly enough.
This kind of behavior was to be expected of Axel and Roxas had been more or less prepared for it. The pair had been dating for the last two years and Roxas knew more about the redhead than anyone, or at least he thought he did. He knew Axel's personality, his quirks, what he liked, what he didn't like, everything in between and he loved him for all of it. He was annoyed by the whole Axel loving to move on the spur of a moment thing, but he accepted it. He wasn't going to leave Axel just because he had a sort of drifter problem. No, he loved the male too much to do that. Besides, it brought excitement to Roxas' life. Who didn't want to live somewhere new every couple of months, honestly?
Roxas let out a huff as he set down what was hopefully the last box into his and Axel's new bedroom just before he flopped down onto the mattress, sprawling out easily. You would think that after three moves he'd be used to lifting all of the heavy boxes, but no, he was still more or less a weakling. It was good that he left all the heavy crap for his boyfriend to carry.
"We're staying this time, right? No more moving?" He called out to Axel, his eyes closing a bit as he relaxed into the mattress. Already he could feel a bit of familiarity with the place, as if it was already his home. Maybe this move wouldn't be so bad.
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It had barely been three months before his reliable sources had informed him that the Organization was hot on his trails again. Now, Axel was still a member of this notorious group, but his plans differed from theirs. He was one of their "elite" members and one that the leader prized and favored, so, of course, he had been assigned the most important mission: to eliminate or recruit such gifteds like them. His target was Roxas, and whilst he had no real trouble with killing people in the past, he couldn't bring himself to kidnap, let alone murder this boy. In the end, he ended up falling for him and getting himself into one of those "relationships", and somehow, his duty had turned into some attempt to keep away from the organization. The gang had no idea that he was hiding their target, but the leader was growing antsy; thus, the manhunt had started.
Axel, being the sly, devious, street-wise rat he was, successfully distracted the organization and managed to protect Roxas at the same time from other powerful groups that wanted to harness his elemental power. Roxas was still naive and so very clueless about this whole operation that Axel couldn't help but believe he was lugging around a rag doll at times, and it amused him that Roxas wouldn't complain about or question his suspicious moves, but it was all for his sake, really.
Now that they were settled into their umpteenth home, the redhead let out a sigh of relief and took a few seconds to dawdle in front of their bedroom window, taking a peek through the blinds at the foreign scenery. His emerald eyes scanned the place, then, with a satisfied grunt, he drew the curtains shut and turned back to the blonde, a playful smirk masking his grim features. "Ya know how bored I get of these places, besides, this place has cheaper rent," he grinned, crawling on top of Roxas to plant a soft kiss to his lips.
Sometimes, he wondered if he should tell Roxas, but his better judgment persuaded him not to. There was no need to freak his boyfriend out about how he had powers, how Axel was a pyromaniac, and that there was a bloodthirsty gang out to kill them both for these mentioned abilities. No way. He sat up and ran a hand through his fiery locks, tilting his head and smirking, "Why, you don't like moving around, babe?"</s>
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Noah shut his locker quietly, zipping up his backpack. It was lunchtime, again. Another day to be completely ignored and forgotten.
Friends? Well, even nerds had nerd friends, but Noah? No one. The only person who ever paid attention to him was his father.
Who, even then, was an adoptive one.
Noah was the only human in this school of anthro pokemon. He sighed softly and pulled over his hood, walking outside instead of going into the cafeteria. Noah sat on the ground, leaning against the external wall of the cafeteria, eating the lunch he had packed for himself that morning. He never ate much. It was just a bag of grapes.
He popped one into his mouth and looked up at the sky. What did he ever do to deserve a life like this, as an outcast? Noah had always been so kind, always been good in school... he even pulled his little hero stunt every now and then.
So what was he doing wrong?
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"Sarah! Sarah! Come over here! Over HERE!"
"No, Sarah come sit with us, come on we ordered pizza!"
"Sarah, sweetheart, bring your sexy self over here, you know we have you covered!"
"Sarah! Sarah! Forget them, over here, we saved you a spot! No, not you shut up Natalie."
It was one of the greatest dilemmas that she faced every single day. Where and with whom would she sit? It didn't matter who she sat with, if they sat in an unsavory spot, too close to the doors or at a table that was too crowded, she wouldn't sit with them. It made her look bad. Then again, it didn't make her look any better sitting with unsavory people. And so she had to give special consideration to her lunch time seating arrangement.
Finally, the shiny Umbreon made her choice, sitting at a window table, the perfect location, surrounded by her closest group of friends... that week. Some were consistent but others came and went. They were usually the temporaries, the ones that were bound to do something to ruin their reputation sooner or later. Sarah smiled. She didn't care. So long as she was on top, so long as she had a large group of "close" friends sitting at her table. She carefully sat, making sure the guys sitting across from her got a nice look at her assets. Sarah smiled at everyone, and eagerly began to talk with them.</s>
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It was a seemingly regular spring day for the students at Fujimi Academy. Classes were in session, but there always were a few transient students wandering about instead of being in their appropriate classrooms. Kira Ayame, the captain of the school archery club, at least had a reason to be skipping class. She was posting signs in order to get a high tryout for the next year's team; lots of her current members were graduating. She was in her junior year at the school, and had been captain of the team since her sophomore year. She had soft lavender hair that hung in ringlets down her back, held back by a hairband, and narrow red eyes. She wore the Fujimi uniform in perfect condition; she was a bit of a perfectionist as she made sure the poster was straight.
The commotion at the gate caught her attention, pushing some long bangs out of her eyes. It looked like a homeless person was trying to get through the gates. Her brow creased, but at least it looked like the teachers who had arrived on the scene were trying to send him on his way. At least until one of them were bitten. The teacher with the wound collapsed on the ground mere moments later, twitching, as the other teacher went into hysterics. It wouldn't take long for him to fall still, Ayame's hands flying to her mouth in shock from her good vantage point. Of course, when the teacher came back to life and began to maul the sobbing teacher, she knew something was terribly wrong. She ran away, as fast as she could; she had to find someone to help in this situation!
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Like normal, Tenma laid on the roof of the walk way leading from the classrooms to the cafeteria. He wore a dyed-look alike of the school uniform, something he himself was proud of. He was the school's black sheep - from teacher to student, no one wanted much to do with him, even though he was never that bad. Screams caught him off guard, causing him to pop up looking around for the source of the cries. Standing up, he ran for the window that entered his second period class, running up the wall and catching the window seal. He looked in and to his horror, the teacher was biting through the neck of a student. "What the hell!" he said, jumping from his perch landing on his butt. He was shocked.
Tenma, Tenma! Help Me!" Yelled one of his friends running from what looked like an armada of students covered in blood. Frozen with fear, he was hesitant to move. "Tenma!" His friend cried, tears running down his face. "I don't wanna die," His friend ran to the pillar that Tenma normally climbs to get up on the roof, but terror was controlling his body, causing him to be clumsy. The deranged students were inches away from him; he looked up at Tenma with pleading eyes begging for his help. Snapping himself out of his trance, Tenma ran to the pillar, he was climbing, reaching his hand out to help. His friend jumped with all his might, grabbing Tenma's hand, being pulled up onto the roof. The both sat down staring at each other. "Dude, what the fuck is going on?" Sin asked.
"Looks like I been chased by fucking cannibals, and you're asking me what happened." Sin said to him, falling back, letting out a well-earned breath.</s>
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The crew of Snake was walking through the forest, the trees all around them with some light streaming through the leaves of the trees. It was about mid-afternoon and they had been walking for quite a while. Karin wasn't tired in the slightest; not when she was around Sasuke. Just being there with him gave her energy. Though it may not have been in the form of actual chakra, it was still a kind of energy that fulfilled her.
She turned and looked at him, she could see the outline of his muscles in that open shirt of his. She could see how his muscles moved as he walked and could feel the mass of chakra that was hidden in that form of his. She had seen him use that power of his on several occasions and every time she saw him in the midst of battle, she grew weak in the knees.
Sasuke was so perfect, a strong man, an ambitious man, someone who could protect her from Orochimaru or the entire Hidden Leaf Ninja Army if that was what it came to, these were the thoughts that were floating through her mind. She gave him a bit of a nervous smile and turned from him. She was biting her bottom lip a bit as she thought about being his girl. It would be both an honor and privilege to carry his child inside of her.
It would make her so happy, especially because he was the last of the Uchiha. So she would be the first mother to begin his clan once again. She looked back over in his direction. Her thoughts lingering on all of the things that would end the beautiful clan with those eyes that are so intense with all of those abilities. He would need to find a woman to keep it going. And not just have one child, he was going to need to have several just to guarantee the survival of his clan.
"Sasuke, have you ever thought of rebuilding your clan, like taking a woman to start it back up? I mean because should anything happen to you...then your clan would end." Karin said to him as she thought about all of this hoping that he would get the hint that she was thinking of herself as the woman.
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Sasuke stopped as Karin spoke, slowly glancing over at her with the same cold stare as usual. At first it seemed like he was about to give her his usual response when she said more or less anything and tell her to shut up...but for some reason this time he just stared at her in silence, almost as if thinking about what she had said, which is exactly what he was doing. She was right....he was the last one...as strong as he was, if anything did happen to him then there would be no Uchiha left to carry on the name, or to retake their former glory. If he was gone then the Uchiha would die a laughing stock and be forgotten about in just a few short years, the name nothing more than a footnote in some history book somewhere. He couldn't allow that to happen....he just couldn't. As much as Sasuke hated to admit it, even to himself, Karin was right....he needed to act now before it was too late, he needed to act now to start rebuilding his clan. But she was wrong about one thing....he couldn't simply take one woman...no....one woman would be too slow....and besides, he needed to bring plenty of new blood into the clan, make it stronger than ever before....and there was only one way to do that.
As the plan began to form in his mind, Sasuke couldn't help but smirk slightly, waving a hand to dismiss Suigetsu and Jango off somewhere. He didn't particularly care where as long as it wasn't here, leaving him and Karin alone. "You know Karin...." The words finally broke a few minutes of uncomfortable silence "....you might have a point..." Slowly Sasuke advanced on her, it would almost have been menacing if Karin were in any way unwilling. "I think...." He suddenly stretched out an arm, going past Karin's head and pressing a hand against the tree behind her. "....it is time I started rebuilding my clan. You....you have some useful talents....talents that would serve a new Uchiha clan well if they were...spread. I think....you'll make an excellent start..." Sasuke moved closer, an arm on either side of Karin's head now as he moved almost right up against her.
"But you must understand....this will become your life. Your whole life will be dedicated to the clan until the day you die" He wasn't really offering her a choice, by now the plan was too solidly formed in Sasuke's head, but Karin had been useful in the past so she at least deserved some illusion of choice. "Now...." He licked his lips like a predator that had cornered its prey into an inescapable corner "....why don't we get started?"</s>
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It has been six years since the defeat of the Kishin Asura. The world has fallen into a time of relative peace; there are still evil humans that wander the world, looking for innocent souls to consume. Luckily, the members of Spartoi (Maka, Soul, Kilik, Fire, Thunder, Kim, Jackie, and all the others) are constantly on the runaround to hunt them down.
Noah and Justin Law are still at large, and the fate of Tezca Tilopca is still unknown to Shibusen and the Death Scythes around the world. On a happier note, Franken Stein and Marie Mjolnir have gotten married; much to everyone's shock, Stein was the one who proposed to Marie.
Unbeknownst to Shibusen and the world, Medusa and Arachne Gorgon have since been revived; they were both clever enough to hide a minuscule fragment of their souls in faux bodies in case anything happened to them. They are both working insidious plots to throw the world into chaos once more, though how they plan to achieve this is still unknown.
However, while important to the events about to unfold, they are not the main focus of this tale. This saga revolves around the unfortunate circumstances surrounding one particular individual; one who must work through trial after trial to find out who he is and where he came from.
Enter Scene:
What appears to be a human body is laying underneath a ragged blanket; the only thing visible is a large, muscled arm covered in strange red marks. It is clear, however, that the body belongs to a man of impressive size; well over six feet in height and a heavily muscled physique.
Many have passed by the mysterious lump; most, however, simply assumed it to be a corpse and walked away. A rare few actually thought the man was sleeping and tried to wake him, and an even rarer few peeked under the ragged blanket and ran off screaming bloody murder. No one, however, seems willing to help this man when he is so obviously in need. Hopefully today, his luck would change.
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Enter Freya
She was never late to work. Ever. Then again, it was hard to believe that anyone could actually suffer any consequences for being to late to work at ChupaCabra. Regardless, she, being a one Freya Chtuhilin, prided herself on many a thing. And being punctual was one of these things. As a young woman with very fine assets and a sharp eye for being stylish, she was popular enough at the cabaret club and knew how to increase its patronage - without aiming for the Academy students, so that meant at least she was popular enough to get away with a few things. And popular enough for clientele to miss her and not let her live it down, potentially.
Silky, thin and short - perhaps too much so - an empire dress of a lavender tone fluttered about her thighs, revealing the milky, chocolate brown skin of her long legs and feet, which were only partially covered by a pair of woven, white flat sandals. Of course, one of the ways Freya had gained such popularity and patronage was by being smart - and that meant utilizing her earlier mentioned assets. The straps of her dress gave way to a v-neck collar with one side folding over the other and leaving plenty of flesh and cleavage for viewing pleasure. And with just the right 'push' or squeeze of the arms, the effect of spilling out - more so than it already was - was accomplished quite easily. The trim of the dress just below her bust and across the straps were lined with white lace, but a thin sweater trailing just above the end of her dress in its pastel, canary yellow cotton and soft knit covered her shoulders and arms plenty as well. Although only a 3/4 sleeve, that was plenty enough for the weather.
Readjusting the purse on her shoulder for the umpteenth time, she brought a hand to her forehead, fixing the bangs in her face and combing her fingers delicately through the thin strands of her framing her face that fell just past her shoulders. A lace scarf of white sat just at the hairline behind her bangs and started the fall of dark hair, bistre and deep auburn-maroon locks, blending together down the middle of her back in a neat, thick river. The short lashes of her indigo eyes glinted with the colors as well. Those indigo eyes however reflected her annoyance with her situation and full, plump, carefully glossed lips contorted in a pout going on sneer that conveyed the same. She was just short of a run, but wouldn't dare looking too disheaveled in such a get up.
Although prepared to release a grunt of annoyance, instead a small gasp and near squeal of shock released itself from her lips as she stumbled and caught her balance before any damage could be done. Looking down, Freya glanced at what had caused her trip before her eyes darted up and around her. No one seemed to mind the blanket and stray arm much, but then again, people didn't care about much besides themselves usually. Bending down - but careful of any upskirt angles - she prodded the arm gently before lifting the blanket. Another gasp departed her lips as her eyes widened before she dropped the blanket and looked around.
"Ah! Excuse me sir!"
"W-wha? What's the matter?"
She signaled for a young man who couldn't be much older than herself, tugging at his arm when she had his attention. "There's a body under there! Would you please help me get it to a doctor?"
The young man looked shocked and disgusted. His jaw dropped and eyes widened in horrified shock before he shook his head and tried to pull away. "What? A body? That's gross... Can you let me go?"
Freya looked as shocked as the youth looked disgusted. Her jaw had dropped and eyes widened in horrified shock before her lips drew together once more, creating a firm line and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Look here twerp, you're going to help me get that body to a doctor and make sure that guy gets help. YOU HEAR ME!?"
"Yes! Yes ma'am!" His words seemed to invest some gallant in him and detach him of his disgust - somewhat - and he practically ran to the blanket and body. Freya herself removed the blanket, folding it carefully and holding it in her arms. "Well, what are you waiting for? Lift him up already! Come on, I think someone can help him over here." Her tardiness forgotten and the man's protests nothing to her ears, she guided the youth to a nearby physician's office, allowing the young man to depart once someone had volunteered to inspect the body.
"Phew." Freya sat back in a seat, legs crossed as she leaned over, the blanket folded against her chest and a hand pressed against her forehead. Honestly, she wasn't expecting anything like that so early in the morning. But that's what happens when you took a shortcut to work. Her eyes flashed open briefly as she remembered the club, but she simply sighed and brushed the thought away. It could wait. Someone else's life was significantly more important. Besides, being an 'entertainer' at a club wasn't the only profession open to her. It was the only one without all the stress and action of battle though.
But all that meant nothing now. She only needed to be sure that mysterious youth was okay and wouldn't need further assistance.</s>
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Kassia moaned and gripped the sheets, bucking her hips, wanting him deep inside her. "Harder!" she pleaded. "Please!" She bit her lip and moved to rub her clit.
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Ditto pushed further, going through her cervix. He went further, not wanting to be bothered by the tightness of it around him, until he was fully inside it. He went back to his blob form, then into a ball, stretching out and going back, making her stomach bulge a little each time.</s>
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The forest was quiet and long as the huntress wandered around aimlessly for days, her pet staying close by at all times. Himeko was tired of this maze, tired of seeing the same damn thing. She looked down at her pet, Tosho, and sighed. "I think we should stop here for now and get something to eat and maybe find a place to rest." She said softly as she laid her hand on his head and he nudged it in agreement. She saw a cave nearby and decided to stay there. She checked it out and noticed it was empty, which was good. Sitting her belongings down, she took her bow with her and called for her pet to follow. She had to scope the area out first before actually sitting down to relax. She had covered most of the area when suddenly her pet started going nuts. "What is it Tosho?" She asked softly as she saw in the direction he was looking at. Just then he started running in that direction with his mistress following behind him. "Wait up Tosho!" She called out as she continued to follow him. Tosho finally came to a stop and was nudging a... Night Elf? "What is it boy?" She asked as she came in clear view of the Night Elf woman. Now being a Blood Elf and a proud member of the Horde, this Night Elf was her sworn enemy. However the woman didn't look too well. "Ummm... Are you alright?" She asked as she neared the woman, hoping to maybe help her out if she had to.
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A Blood Elf, in these forests? And a beautiful one at that? Sheetha had been surprised. So surprised, that she was intrigued. She often did, with little reason. But this time, there were plenty of reasons. She had been looking for a new subject, for a long time. Her "Mistress" was a beautiful Night Elf, but Sheetha could never settle, with what she had. After following the Blood Elf for a while, she watched her enter her cave. She narrowed her eyes, tilting her head slightly, as a grin slowly spread on her lips. She turned around on her heels, looking over her shoulder, raising her wings to look past them, as her body started transforming, from the High Elven form, slowly getting a beautiful purple skin, blue lips, her ears changing from the tall pointed, to lower and more heavy, yet still beautiful ears. Her eyes, with a flash, turned from bright purple, to dark blue. The left large wing, started twisting and turning, before growing into an entity of itself, as it started twirling down Sheethas arm, like a snake. The "former wing" formed a snakelike face, that silently hissed, as its tongue dangled from its lips. Sheetha rose her hand, with palms up, holding the snake's head, as she made a shushing sound with her lips. The snake turned silent, before it started pulling back, both wings, pulling back into their sockets, hidden from others sight. Just as it did, open wounds started turning up around her body, thick blood, pouring from them. A slash, over her stomach, and a brutal cut on her right arm, where mimicked on her body, but she made no expression of pain. Only a wide grin, slowly spreading over her lips. A scent started emitting from her, faking the scent of both blood, and the alluring scent of a Night Elf.
She stopped, in a small clearing, just as she heard the Blood Elf talk, and the cat approach. Her body then dropped to the floor, as if gravely wounded, and the dark bra and thong disappeared, replaced with ripped purple clothes resembling a Night Elf huntress' attire. And then she went silent, closing her eyes.
As Tosho nudged the gravely wounded Night Elf, her eyes slowly opened. The dark blue, paleing eyes slowly looked up towards the feline, blinking in dizziness, before a soft whimper escaped her lips, a hand pressed against the horrible wound on her stomach. But the whimper was nothing like the fear shot into her eyes when she saw the Blood Elf. Another enemy, of her faction.
The Night Elf whimpered, trying to crawl backwards, but only able to use one arm. She slowly shook her head, the dark green hair soaked with blood and sweat sticking to her shoulder and over her face. "No... please don't," she pleaded, fear evident in her voice.
"N.. No.. No P.. Please.. D.. Don't.." The fear in her face was replaced with one of pain as the wound on her shoulder shot a sting of pain through her body. The fear in the Night Elf's eyes made it clear that she didn't even hear the other Elf's words. Frightened beyond anything.
Of course. All a facade.</s>
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The Glaceon sat in her Pok Ball, feeling strange somehow. She felt like something was different, off-kilter. The ball felt too small for some odd reason; she had just been traded away and was waiting to be released. She sighed, not knowing who she was now owned by.
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Jake was happy to finally get a Glaceon, and was eager to check it out, to make sure their personalities wouldn't clash. He took the pokeball with Glaceon in it, and went to a private guest room at the Pokemon Center where the trade happened. Upon releasing her, he was left speechless by her curves, bust, firmness... All things a normal pokemon shouldn't have. "Gah! What are you?! Some sort of hybrid?!" He questioned, noting her familiar body and curves.</s>
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Lily Luna Potter was doing some last minute packing before heading off to the train to start her fifth year. Her twin brother, Albus, was busy yelling at her to hurry the hell up because he was getting tired of waiting. James, who was two years older than them, was going into his last year at Hogwarts and was already in the car, ready to drive. Mr. Harry Potter had a press conference and Mrs. Ginny Potter worked as a healer, and was on call and at St. Mungos, so James got the chance to drive them to school, since the car was charmed to drive itself back home after going invisible once they got to Hogwarts.
"Merlin, Lily, hurry up!" yelled Albus from the bottom of the stairs, already done packing with his things in the car.
"I'm coming!" yelled Lily, grabbing her Slytherin scarf and stuffing it into the trunk, and then dragging it down the stairs and handing it off to Albus, before climbing into the backseat of the car.
Once everyone was at the train station, Lily met Talia and Tallon and they walked to the platform and then onto the train.
"Where's Scorpius?" asked Lily, looking around once they had sat down in the compartment.
"Probably hitting on some girl," Talia said with a shrug. Tallon nodded.
The three friends then waited patiently for Scorpius to arrive in their compartment.
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Keeping others waiting, even if they were his closest friends in the world was something that Scorpius enjoyed doing very much. It was just another subtle way to establish that he was the one who was in charge of their little group, they might all have their own opinions and the freedom to essentially do what they wanted but when push came to shove he was the one who chose what to do. It was of course only the natural order of things for a Malfoy to take control of the situation, the son of the wealthiest wizarding family in Europe, a family with pure blood lineage stretching back as far as anyone could count and a great deal of power accumulated over those years. One of the top students in his class, prefect, first rate Chaser, and of course devilishly charming, wasn't it only right that he should take charge.
He knew what his friends would no doubt suspect as he kept them waiting, that he had cornered some lovely young lady in a secluded part of the train and was working his quite aggressive brand of seduction like he always chose to, but instead he was just killing time not far off from where they were, enjoying a moment of quiet in a car full of first year students who were too nervous to make a single sound in his presence. That alone was amusing to the point that he would have been laughing if he were not in deep thought, this was the year, he had decided that this was the year that he was going to have Lily all for himself. He knew his parents would never approve, doubted hers would even though technically his father always made a big show about how grateful he was to Potter for taking care of the threat of the Dark Lord... but who cared, he had wanted her from the first onset of puberty and now... well what was going to stop him?
Feeling that he had let enough time pass Scorpius made his way from the car that he had been sitting, carrying himself with all the poise and pride that was to be expected of a Malfoy and moved to the train car where they always sat together, pulling the door open with a smirk. I would say I am sorry to keep you all waiting but you would know it is a lie. And you all know I am not going to feel the least bit guilty so... lets skip the part where you try to tell me how terrible I am.</s>
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It was only five hours into his first day at Professor Xavier's School For Gifted Youngsters and Kyle Phillips had already made his prediction of blowing up the microwave come true.
"Damn it!" He grunted, his fingers wiping away the black soot. Yesterday, he was terrified to even touch anything electrical or gas-based, which was impossibly hard in the multitude of cities and suburbs in Australia. He had moved to the Outback on his 21st birthday with his father and sister, the trip almost impossible without the use of vehicles that would explode if he went near them. It seemed like an eternity, but they found the perfect place and had begun to settle in... that was, until that massive black plane appeared.
The people onboard talked to Kyle's parents, told him of the school, a place where he could be safe. It wasn't long before Kyle found himself in a rubber suit, strapped into a seat and watching the little farm in Victoria's countryside suddenly becoming nothing more than a mere speck. When he had arrived, he was asked to close his eyes, which he did so obediently. Moments passed and he was guided down what seemed like countless hallways and endless corridors. Finally, he felt the suit removed and he let himself open his eyes to his new home.
That afternoon was more exciting, much more, as Kyle became used to being surrounded by kids, teenagers and others his age who were like himself in many different ways. However, he remained away from the main building, staying on the outskirt of the parks and such. Eventually, as the sun began to set, he decided to finally return to the dorms. If he was going to become used to his powers and to this new life, he had to stop hiding.
And so, here he was, grumbling as he stood by the shattered remains of the dorm's microwave, ignoring the laughs and snickers from the other students. Suddenly, the sound of something flying through the air whistled into his ear, making him turn his head towards the sound on instinct. The object, a spitball made of ice, suddenly erupted into shimmering snow as a small bolt of lightning destroyed it. Kyle was not in the mood for bullshit.
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For eight of her nineteen years, she'd been at Professor X's school, and that was how Hannah liked it. When she started showing her powers right after puberty hit, she'd been labeled a freak - someone different - but here at the school, everyone had some kind of difference, and it made her feel like she belonged. That sense of belonging was all Hannah had now; her family had died in a car crash only a year after she had come to the school. It felt odd at the time, but the pain and loss felt detached, like it happened to someone else, as her family was here at the school now.
Shaking her head to break free of her reminiscence, Hannah heard Professor McCoy tell them that their chemistry lecture was over. With her thoughts and mild remembrances disturbed, Hannah grabbed her bags, shoving her books and homework assignment into the pack before heading out into the grassy Quad between the buildings. Everyone seemed to be talking about the new mutant who had been brought to the school, apparently he had some kind of talent with electricity or gas, something like that. Not really caring at that point, Hannah decided to head off towards her dorm and the meetings between the RAs and the Dorm Head for her building. Most people probably would have been aghast at the way the students practically ran their own accommodations inside the dorms, but they housed students from the age of five or six up to the students who usually would be at University studying up to postgraduates. Most of those older students usually ended up either working at the school or to protect it and the humans.
Sitting through the meeting for the next hour, Hannah fought to pay attention when suddenly she was told that the new boy was her responsibility. Groaning at the fact that he was on her floor and down her hall in the dorm building, she decided that she'd need to talk to the new boy soon, lay out some ground rules and get him settled in as few incidents as possible. With that in mind, she gathered her things yet again and left the room. As soon as she stepped outside, she saw several students laughing at someone in the buildings communal kitchen, and even saw one of the students flick a ball of ice at whoever had caused the commotion inside. Looking around, she realized that there were none of the other RAs or the Dorm Head, and it was up to her to sort out the problem. Storming her way over to the mob, she tried to see over, around, and through people as her 4'11" height gave her trouble. Her tiny nature had been problematic before, but her skills with her powers had earned her a reputation to be feared. When one of the older boys in the group laughing at the exchange between the mutants in the kitchen saw her standing there, he immediately made way. Admittedly, her image did seem a little frightening; her black elbow-length gloves covering her hands, a tight-fitting black and purple shirt, the sleeves billowing out and coming down to the middle of her forearms, a pair of tight black fatigue pants, black leather coat slung on her arm, and shiny black boots that came almost up to her knees with big silver-colored buckles on them and the purple and shiny silver streaks in her naturally black hair offset against her lightly tanned face and storm-grey eyes only added to the effect.
Making sure that she never came into skin contact or eye contact with anyone, Hannah worked her way through the crowd which now had begun to part before her. Stepping into the kitchen, she dropped her bag and her coat down on top of it, and put her fists onto her hips. What the heck is going on in here? There was ice on the floor, the microwave looked like Logan had come back and put a cherry bomb in it, and static electricity was crackling through the air.</s>
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Kali was on her way to her first class of college - which was math. She sighed, thinking about the events that had been happening in her town lately. There had been so many freaky deaths that they thought it might be another Kira. Kali used to be a member of a fan-based website that talked about the so-called Kira, and she was very sad hearing the news of his death. When she heard about the new killings, she decided to create her own site. One reason was that the killings were random people, and not rapists, killers, or robbers. Secondly, she wanted to meet the new Kira, even if he was worse than the first one. She thought it was crazy how the deaths were planned out like Final Destination movies, but half of them had to be fake because all shows tend to lie to get more viewers.
Kali looked at her paper to see what building and room she needed to be in, then started walking towards where she had to be. Walking into the big classroom, she saw only a few people. She walked up a few steps before approaching a guy who looked somewhat nice. She got out her laptop and waited for it to start up. "Hey," she said, mumbling low to see if he would ignore her or not.
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It had been two weeks since the killings had started. Originally it was five deaths within five hours. Those five were his test subjects. Heart attack for one and the other four actually did something before meeting their death. Then the deaths stopped. Until four days later when the first five people in the personal death toll skyrocketed to fifty-seven in one day. Each of those deaths happened simultaneously across the country. In fact, the thing was so insane that businesses closed down for a couple days allowing people to spend the last few days alive with their loved ones. The deaths then balanced out to be at a constant pace but not so many at one time. And Within two weeks life was back on track aside from the constant fear of someone dying.
The original Kira had the right plan on how to make the perfect world. Unfortunately, his plan was flawed. He would only kill criminals. The utopia he had was not created properly as bullies still existed and so long as people did petty crimes they were not killed off. Bryan, although was not out to make a utopia, had already caused a lot of people to play nicely at the fear of being killed for no reason.
Bryan was at the McDonald's Across the Street from the college eating a burger when he looked at his cell phone. It was still a few minutes before the next death would take place and this time he was making sure to have a front row seat to the Death. Most of his killings were freak accidents, something completely unexplained, and thus he could not be at each one. The next death however was going to happen right outside the window he was next to.
Perfectly on cue, the helicopter was hovering overhead. Smoke blowing out of one engine and it quickly started spiraling down to the ground. The professor who had just flunked Bryan crossing the street and the helicopter blade cleaving head clean off. The pilot escaping without a scratch only to be hit by a car right after. Two for the price of one.
"HOLY SHIT DID YOU SEE THAT?" One kid around Bryan's age screamed, freaking out.
Of course he did. Bryan was the one who willed it to happen.</s>
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The woods were quiet... too quiet. And it wasn't that Juri sensed any kind of impending doom. It was peaceful. Serene. Boring. Juri just felt like screaming, like smashing some trees to the ground with her bare hands. The Korean girl wished she could be out of here as quickly as possible, the sooner the better. She wasn't here to enjoy the scenery. No, she'd sooner have this place leveled. She was here because, in the last tournament, she had encountered a female ninja named Ibuki. This ninja girl seemed like the perfect test subject for the female exclusive "Feng Shui" engine, the very power that Juri herself held. Now that she was in charge of SIN and Seth was dead and buried, the psychotic bitch was ready to conquer the world. And for that, she needed soldiers.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of walking, she finally reached a clearing. It seemed well used, but was at present empty. A slow, sadistic smile crept onto Juri's face, licking her lips in anticipation. This was the place. This looked like their training ground. All she had to do was wait, and eventually, her little kunoichi would show herself. After that, it was a matter of beating her... then using her to sate her desires. She had to resist the urge to play with her own breasts at the thought, her overactive libido tempting her... one of the side effects of the Feng shui engine.
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Ibuki - Ninja Village, Japan
Despite the fact that the sun was barely creeping its way past the peaks of the mountain that surrounded the small village, there was chatter and sounds circling the air as the ninjas were getting ready for their morning routines. Some were sharpening their kunai while conversing, others carrying buckets of water from the nearby well, a few already stretching for the training to come. But, although most of the villagers were already awake, if not all, one lay sound asleep, curled up in a ball on her mat, a little bit of drool coming down the side of her lips. Then came a small jab in the side of her stomach to disrupt her peaceful slumber. Moaning a bit in annoyance, Ibuki tried to ignore it but then came another, then another. Shifting her position, turning around to face the other way, Ibuki tried to get back to sleep but the little pokes persisted on the back. Eventually her eyes lazily opened to reveal a small creature anxiously watching over her. "What is your problem Don-chan?" she mumbled as she sat up, wiping away the drool from her mouth with the back of her hand. The little tanuki, a pet she had kept as long as she could remember, tilted its head slightly before pointing out of the window at the sun, which had risen up now to illuminate the once dark room.
It took a while for the female ninja to register but suddenly realized what it meant and almost jumped up from the mat. "I am so late!" she exclaimed to practically no one as she hurriedly made her way to a nearby table and began wrapping her bare feet with a reel of white cloth bandages that lay on it. Doing the same with her ankles and shins, Ibuki turned her head to try and find her arm guards. "Where are th-" she said to herself before Don-chan made its way onto the table in front of her holding the pair in his tiny hands. With a smile, she quickly placed them on and grabbed a couple kunai before making her way out the door, followed by the tanuki. Although early, ninjas started their training at the brink of dawn in the clearing, and she already knew she wasn't going to make it in time. As she made her way through the village, a lot of people who weren't in training shook their heads as she passed them, and she groaned at the prospect of cleaning out the dojo yet again. Jumping onto a branch of one of the large trees in the forest, she began rushing through, going from tree to tree as she zipped through. Soon enough, the trees began to open up a bit in the dense forest revealing a brightly illuminated clearing with bodies all warming up and sparring. "Made it!" she exclaimed with joy as she hopped down from the last branch to the ground. Hopefully being just a LITTLE late wouldn't be too bad. In her hurry, however, she didn't even get to notice the woman hiding below that last tree, watching the ninjas. Don-chan, however, did and, instead of following Ibuki down to the ground, stayed in the tree, watching her. Why did she look so familiar to the tanuki?</s>
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Drake had been working for the company for more than three years now and in that time he had become one of their best agents for finding "targets" and retrieving them before training them and handing them over to be sold. He sat back in his chair, dressed up for the occasion. There was supposed to be a big party for celebrities, some A-list group who thought they were untouchable and wouldn't get caught or disappear like some B-list stars. Laughing, he got up and headed to his car, checking his trunk for all of the tools of his trade - ropes, gags, and chloroform. Getting into his car, he headed out from his house and into the city where the afterparty was being held.
Drake was able to slip into the party, conning many people into thinking he was someone important. His dark black hair and dark eyes always gave him an air of mystery. He chatted with stars and producers alike as he looked around for his next targets. Who would the company want now? It had to be someone really at the A-list, someone who would actually cause a spark once she was kidnapped and never seen again. That would strike panic into them and make them know that they were not safe.
He knew that they operated all around the world, some in shadows and some in plain sight of others. They were able to put themselves into top levels of government; who knew what position they held. But they were bringing these powerful women and taking them to become their slaves to show everyone they were truly in power.
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The party was the talk of the city, all the top celebrities were going to be there. Everybody wanted to get into it, even the press were trying to sneak in too, but they were only allowed to the door before security moved them away, but they were persistent, still trying to get in and get pictures of the celebrities as they got out of the limos, just as they finished taking pictures of one celebrity, another turned up.
A long white limo pulled up outside the building, the camera's of the press flashing frantically already. The car door was opened by a waiting door man, and out stepped Jennifer Lopez, wearing a long sparkly silk dress, with a split up the front, leading along her long legs. She smiled at the press and gave them a small wave, and even posed for a few photos before she made her way into the building, once inside she helped herself to a drink and went to mingle with some of the other celebrities.
The press disappointed that Miss Lopez was now inside they set on waiting for the next car to come, they didn't have to wait long, when a black car pulled up, and in the same fashion as before, the door was opened and out stepped the celebrity. This time it was, Tyra Banks, wearing a short blue ruffled strapless dress, she also smiled at the camera's and posed for photos. This was the routine for all celebrities when arriving at parties, get out the car and have some photos taken. Tyra, soon followed Jennifier through the doors and helped herself to drinks.
Two cars pulled up together next, the first car door opened and out stepped Jennifier Love Hewitt. She was wearing a long blue/purple dress, that fastened around her neck, sort of like a dog collar. Her back open to the air. "Hello" she smiled at the press, not staying for many photos, eager to get in and get herself a drink.
The other car door opened too, and Beyonce got out of the car, the press all shouted at her,"Beyonce, get us in? Beyonce, one more pic, just one more?". Beyonce smiled and gave them what they wanted, she gave them more attention than the celebrities before her, before she smiled her good byes and caught up with Jennifer at the door. "Hello, Jennifer" She smiled, as they both went off to get drinks, music playing in the background.</s>
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"Cobblepot!" He hated that name, yelled as if it was a curse. Not that "Penguin" was any better, but when you're barely over 5 feet and 'rotund' is a euphemism...well, you need to work with what you have. For the last few years, he had chosen to lay low, with most of his criminal activities happening low-key through his nightclub, The Iceberg Lounge. Unfortunately, fate was conspiring against the hefty villain, in the form of Arkham...City. The City within a city was built around his lounge, where it housed the most notorious villains: The Joker (maybe?), Two-Face, Mr. Freeze, and rumors that the Al Ghul and the League of Assassins were in the powder keg as well. Fate though, was fickle...it giveth..and it taketh. In this instance, it gave The Penguin an edge on the other criminals. While they had been thrown into the mix, he was already there, with a base of operations. Fate also conspired to deliver him a new ally, Mr. Freeze, the iceburg lounge truly looked like an iceberg, which the diminutive villain was suited by just fine. Between his alliance, a few cops held hostage, and his henchmen if someone wanted information, supplies or muscle...Cobblepot was the man to go to. Fate, also taketh away...as he was also in possession of some museum pieces that others would, and did, pay a ransom to recover. Including giving a cat burglar an incredible sum to spirit away.
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Usually, Catwoman wouldn't bother with Penguin. The rotund man did have his fair share of valuables, things that would enrichen any thief's pockets. Even better, there wasn't a whole lot of moral dilemma in stealing from someone like that. However, Catwoman tried to stay away from the various "super criminals" in Gotham as best she could, though that mostly failed. In reality, she veered away from Penguin because he looked like his face had been on the wrong end of a window pane.
This was quite unlike the sexy, slinky thief. The Catwoman looked every inch the femme fatale. A tight, taut figure encased in revealing leather, she looked like every hero or villain's wet dream. The costume had certainly been designed to help achieve that very feeling. Tight leather clung to a pair of pert buttocks, showcasing the womanly hips and the fine curves the prowler possessed. Said leather also encased the long legs, ending in heeled boots, all to accentuate. A frontal zipper provided easy access and a nice few of a wide expanse of white cleavage, nearly extending down to Selina's belly button. Both breasts would spill over in most hands, and seemed barely contained by their leather prisons. As if the body weren't enough, Selina had a glamorous face. Sexy, hooded green eyes stared from beautiful lashes, all positioned in a face that graced magazines. Tufts of her short black hair just showed underneath the cat hood. In short, Catwoman looked ready to either kick ass or kiss it, depending on her mood.
Currently, she was leaning more towards the former. The sneaky thief had already entered the Lounge, utilizing some mapping technology present within her suit. The job had simple requirements: seek out some museum pieces and abscond with them. In and out, without attracting attention. Catwoman figured it should be easy enough, and she slunk through now without causing a sound. Penguin's standard goons were easy enough to avoid, as they weren't exactly the top of the line when it came to villainy. The few that did get in the way, Catwoman deftly took care of, often surprising them before they got a chance.
However, she found that the museum piece was too heavily guarded for that. The woman had to drop down and attack in a much more frontal manner. Thankfully, she did bear a whip and several gadgets, not to mention martial arts training. The mooks put up something of a fight nonetheless, one even getting dangerously close to connecting with the feline thief. In the end, she was victorious, and focused her attention upon the classy pieces, starting with a beautiful statuette hidden in one of Penguin's more morbid displays. She needed to move quickly, and that meant focusing on the job, while trying to listen for more unwanted visitors.</s>
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It was trivial, the thoughts about the worlds and their people, the Heartless, the darkness in people's hearts. Sometimes it hurt her head to think about it all, more than the fact of the coat she wore to mislead people. It was a horrible thing, but the girl felt that it was one of the most important parts of her job as a mercenary. A puff of the fifteen-year-old's cheeks showed her irritation at her thoughts. Was there really nothing she could do right now for the worlds?! Trying to block out her own thoughts, Xynnic shouted out over the hilltops in frustration. She was alone, right now... At least that was what she thought, in all honesty...
Xynnic was the young, silver-haired woman's name. Her blue eyes glared straight ahead, as she tried to stay calm. Feeling so useless and unable to help the Keybladers definitely bothered her, and made her feel completely useless... Slumping to a sitting position, she sighed gently, as she watched the wind sway through the area.
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Time never ebbed, even for the omnipotent. His return marked the beginning of a new era. His machinations were laid out before them, the Keyblade wielders, though there was naught but a trace of them left. Mickey. Riku. Sora, and their little friend...Kairi. A simple display of his power would suffice for now. And so the Corridor of Darkness bent to his will, transporting him from his thoughts and into an area long forgotten: Yen Sid's Tower. The boys were here. He could hear their hearts. He could feel the darkness still pulsing in Riku's heart, begging to be released. Who was he to deny that need? He was obligated to do this for the boy. It would only help Riku, and of course, himself.
They tried. Their efforts were valiant, after all. But they were young and naive, and Sora, even with all his power, was still too inexperienced as a Keyblade wielder to even consider the fact that a master, nay, the Master, would best him. With a flourish of his wrist he parried Riku's feeble attempt to defend himself with an offensive, relinquishing him of his Keyblade and driving him to the ground. The man stood over him, snide and content, the Keyblade he was wielding pressed into his throat. Then he spoke, his voice deep and commanding, as a Master's should be, "Do not fight boy. This is necessary. You will find that soon enough. The heart of all worlds will be opened because of your destiny. You think the path you chose was of your own accord? Bothersome. You were led down that path by my hand, as a fail safe. Come, show the darkness in your heart." He pressed the Keyblade into Riku's chest, a blinding aura encompassing him before the area exploded into a brilliant shower of iridescent colors. When it was all clear, he was gone.
She would be able to hear the cry of a world extinguished. Most people could, though it seemed like just a whisper at the back of their mind, taunting them. Most people ignored it, thought it was inconsequential. Those privy to the current plight knew. Knew what it meant, what it entailed. With the darkness he had wrest from Riku's heart, his plans were one step closer to fruition. Soon he would be accompanied by a born again soldier. Soon his second Vanitas would be complete.</s>
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Call a daiyoukai old fashioned, but he always enjoyed reading the paper. In the new age of electronics and the internet, some things shouldn't change. And the newspaper, Sesshoumaru often mused to himself; was probably the best human invention he had ever enjoyed. That, and suits..he had grown to appreciate the fine feeling of an expensive suit in the past few hundred years or so. That, and suits..he had grown to appreciate the fine feeling of an expensive suit in the past few hundred years or so.
To tell you the truth, he couldn't really say why he enjoyed the feel of a newspaper in his hands or the smell of ink. Perhaps it brought him back to bygone days where things were as easy as beheading a fool who disrespected him and that was that. Now, humans had political alliances...a care for people they never saw or rarely seen miles and miles away. Part of him was disgusted that human innovation had paved the way, and yet here he was..taking advantage of every sweet benefit.
"Lord Sesshoumaru!" His eyes closed a moment, a small rise of his lips formed as he folded the paper. Something reminiscent of a smile traced on his lips, it was a bit foolish for him to feel nostalgic, but Jaken had rarely changed in the four hundred years when he felt more in his element. The scent of green herbal tea filled the air as Jaken made his way over to Sesshoumaru's fine oak desk and set it next to him. Jaken dressed in the same traditional robes he always had..not that it mattered, the little youkai was rather hard to hide.
"What news do you have for me, Jaken?" He asked, taking the hot cup to sip carefully. At that, the little youkai seemed to fidget under his gaze, which narrowed slightly at his lack of an answer.
"Forgive me, my Lord." He said, bowing low. "The..woman you requested to be sent away has returned again." A fine, silver brow arched at that as he settled into his plush leather seat. Again? That was the fifth time this month...he had no idea what could possibly be so worth a human woman wanting to be his personal aide, because what he did was hardly something that required a mortal woman.
He took another look at her resume, somewhat impressive..he supposed. But ultimately lacking in the one thing he truly needed. Regardless, he had to admire her stubbornness..something that could be used for him in some shape or form. No sense to turn away willing help.
"..Send her in, Jaken." He finally said, taking a smooth sip of the green tea as Jaken's wide yellow eyes stared at him a moment. "At once, my lord." He said, quick to head out of his office and have someone less youkai in shape to summon her up.
The newspaper was boring, so perhaps this would provide his normally slow mornings with something to do.
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She had been after this job for a while now, and had essentially been turned away each time, but Kestrel was not a woman to be turned down so easily. She knew the job was as good as hers, no one was more qualified to work under the Daiyoukai. Not quite like she was. She knew what he was thinking, knew he assumed that she was a human woman. Being anything other than such was not exactly something one simply slapped on their resume, but this was beyond the point. Today, she was going to get in. Today, was her day.
Standing at a healthy five foot nine, without the stilettos, she stood in the lobby with her arms crossed over lustrous breasts. If there was one thing to be said visually about the woman standing in the lobby, it was sex appeal. Kestrel had dark, exotic skin matched with light blonde hair and a set of piercing lavender eyes. She had large breasts which molded themselves into a slender waist, and finally down into a toned and well worked abdomen. As one's eyes trailed lower, they would rest upon a set of wide hips paired with two long athletically toned legs. She was dressed in a dress suit, in a sense. Over her torso was a white, corset-like top, professional as it might be, concealed beneath a black suit coat that was currently buttoned at the waist, hugging the coke-bottle like figure nicely. From her hips hung a skirt, relatively short, and relatively tight. And finally, a pair of professional, open-toed stilettos. The long blonde hair was tied up, in an elegant bun, curls and whisps of the hair floating around her face and neckline.
She had waited for several minutes before the small green Youkai had finally returned to confirm something that she had known since the minute she had woken up. A smug smirk tugged across full glossed lips before she began to follow him. Hips swaying as she moved, so say she caught attention was an understatement, however, she was a high maintenance woman, and not just anyone would do. Anyone who knew her personally knew that she was a rather stuck up individual. One had to be deemed worthy, and if you were not, you did not get the time of day. No, not her time of day.
Finally, when they reached the office, the little man threw open the door, providing her entrance. She continued to trek comfortably inside, and waited to be offered a seat before she finally set down, crossing the long legs and eying at the male in front of her. Pure-blood, just as she had always known. This explained in a bit of detail as to why she hadn't gotten the job before, but she was sure she was a shoo in this time. She had a few new... methods up of her sleeve, methods she knew that he would be rather pleased with.
She watched him for a moment, the grin remaining on her lips before they parted to speak. "Lord Sesshoumaru... you're a hard man to get a hold of... My name is Hideyoshi Kestrel. I'm hoping to finally be able to convince you I'd be a proper aide, and an asset to your company." She spoke, leaning back in the chair and clasping her hands at her waist. She scanned him, head to toe. It was no doubt what it was the women were crazy about, who didn't like a powerful, attractive man in a suit?</s>
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A young Breton woman knelt in a patch of nightshade, plucking the rich purple blooms and sliding them into a small satchel at her right hip. She didn't terribly need nightshade, but the color was her favorite, and as she placed the last blossom in the satchel, a nearly invisible smile pulled at the corners of her petite mouth. Standing proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated; her knees ached slightly, and the sudden rush of blood back into her shapely calves was less than her favorite sensation.
Almost as if on cue, a gentle breeze rustled the tall grass and remaining flowers about her, sending a tantalizingly floral aroma into the air. She breathed in deeply through her nose and held it in for just a second before letting it seep out ever so slowly. Vibrant green eyes darted over the treeline quickly as she knelt again to pick up an ancient stone mask and an Elven bow, which she slide over her shoulder next to a half-full quiver of Falmer arrows. The mask, Krosis, she ran her fingers over fondly before donning it as well.
Another quick scan of the horizon and she took off. Tight leather armor clung to her every curve as she bounded across the clearing and back into the safety of the trees. Not even a branch cracked beneath her lithe feet as she leapt and darted over fallen logs and boulders. Glimpses of a massive stone structure appeared occasionally on the horizon, growing steadily larger and ever more menacing as she approached. Interest piqued, she slowed and crouched before diverting her path up the mountain toward said structure.
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This woman, who was clearly dressed as an adventurer, explorer, graverobber, fighter, there were many different names one could call people such as her. But today there would be no name-calling, at least not like that. If she'd been called different names, they would have been dirtier. And if she liked those more, she wouldn't know, but considering who she'd meet shortly hereafter, she probably would. His presence had the tendency to let mortal morals float away like clouds, so that even a high servant of the divines could fall down to her knees and beg for sex. From the Daedric plane, a man watched this curved woman, seeing her body coming closer by the second. With the power he had, he kept the way clear for her fairly easily, only enemies being bandits and wolves, as he didn't want to make it too easy for her. Once she arrived, she would notice the air darkening around her, and if she tried to move back, she would find herself unable to do so. When she finally reached the statue, she saw a staff there, with a large ruby made into the shape of a rose at its end. When she tried to touch it, it pulled her into another world. "Well, well," she heard, the source being a faintly familiar voice. "You tried to take my staff away, did you? Not that you could be blamed for Greed, not here at least, but still." Around her, she saw a feast where all of the sins were going through, with fights, fuckings, gobbling up food, anything. "But for touching my staff without permission, you will receive some form of punishment, won't you? I hope you have something in mind, as otherwise I'll think of something."</s>
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Katie Welch walked down the street, dodging cars and grumpy pedestrians as she neared Bruce Wayne's manor. She'd never owned a car, despite being a decent driver, for she was never able to get ahead on her bills enough to purchase one. However, she didn't mind, for walking gave her plenty of time to think. And in this case, it was giving her time to think about what she had gotten herself into. Today was the day she was supposed meet Bruce Wayne, the most powerful man in Gotham, to basically beg his permission to become his new live-in maid. She was technically hired by Alfred, his current butler who was slowly falling ill, but he admitted she better meet the owner of the manor before packing her bags.
Giving the guard at the gate her name, 22-year-old Katie was allowed to walk up the path to the front door of the large mansion and gave a hesitant knock. She was not a shy girl, nor was she hardly ever nervous, but this situation genuinely scared her a little. She was not just asking for a job, but a job that gave her a place to stay and food to eat. Her bills would go down immensely, and it had to be more pay than waitressing at the diner she was currently employed at.
The door opened, revealing Alfred and his kind, wise smile. "Miss Welch," he greeted warmly, "I'll alert Master Wayne of your arrival." He nodded and led her to a sitting room on the West Wing of the house. Then, quickly, he went off to find Bruce and put on a pot of coffee. Katie sat down on the edge of the couch, biting her lip and looking all around the room. It was nicer than any room she'd ever been in before, intimidating her even more. What if he simply thought she was trash? Some poor girl who needed to make a living and who would never be on his level... It made a knot form in her stomach as she waited on him.
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Bruce Wayne was a bit skeptical that Alfred had found a maid that would please him. "I think you will like her Mr. Wayne," Alfred had said after he had already hired her. "You 'think' I will like her? And if I don't, Alfred, how are you going to dismiss her without dashing her hopes?" Alfred had smiled wryly. "Have I ever let you down, Sir?" Bruce had to acknowledge that Alfred had an uncanny ability to understand his needs and provide for them. This thought gave Bruce hope, and even made him a bit excited as he waited for the new maid to arrive.
Wayne was in the lab of the Bat Cave when he saw the lights of the elevator descending to his level. The utility belt he was developing was close to being finished. In a few days he would test it in the wee hours of the Gotham morning when the scum of the city lurked and prowled the deserted streets. He put the belt into a cabinet and turned off the light as the elevator door opened and Alfred stepped out. "Sir, the new hire is waiting in the south living room." Again Alfred had that wry smile on his old, gentle face, and Bruce laughed out loud as he slapped him on the back. "Alright my good man...let's see what you've done to me." They entered the elevator and both were silent as they ascended. Once on the main level, Bruce paused and addressed his butler. "Alfred...let us keep the young lady from the Red Room until I know what she's about," He said conspiratorially. "No sense scaring her away."
As Bruce Wayne entered the living room, he was almost dumbfounded by the vision he saw before him, but he didn't let on. With a determined stride and a broad smile, he approached his new maid and extended his hand in greeting. "Miss Welch...it is a pleasure to meet you," He said sincerely as he held her soft, dainty hand in his. "I understand Alfred has hired you for a live-in position," He paused for effect. "I trust Alfred's judgement implicitly. I'm sure you will be just what I'm looking for." He looked around her. "Do you not have any luggage or personal items," He asked casually. "No matter...everything you need will be provided for you." He gave her a good once over during the brief introduction, and he liked what he saw...very much indeed! "I'll have Alfred show you to you're quarters, then I hope you will dine with me. Tomorrow you will be an employee, but tonight you will be a guest." He let go of her hand and pardoned himself. "I will fetch the old man...see you tonight." With that, he turned and left the room. Meeting his butler in the hallway, he pulled him aside and spoke to him in a low voice. "Alfred, my friend...perhaps she will see the Red Room sooner than later.</s>
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Aeris gasped as they threw her into the metal room. She tried straightening her pink dress, tugging at the fabric and getting things more in order. She wasn't quite sure why they'd left her fully dressed; she even still had the slight red jacket to cover her shoulders and upper arms. There had been muttering about some kind of experiment, and Hojo, the greasy man that he was, had seemed far, far too pleased by the idea. It took all Aeris had to continue putting on a brave face, convincing herself that Cloud and the others would come to save her soon enough. It would happen. She just had to hold out.
For now though, she was apparently alone, in a room with steel floors. She looked around, noting that the room was close to round, with plates that formed a sort of ring about them. There were holes dotting the walls, and it didn't take a huge leap to figure they existed in order to allow gases and other such materials to leak into the room. A glance further up showed what looked like one-way glass, mirrors of some kind. Aeris didn't spend long looking at that, not wanting to think about the voyeuristic scientists peeping in from above.
What was it that Hojo had said? Something about finally having the last Cetra? Something about how she would go well with the other captive? It hadn't made much sense to Aeris at the time, and it wasn't now. She took a few cautious steps forward, still trying to determine what exactly they had planned and where exactly this all was going.
She noticed a table then, one that seemed prepared with straps. Breeding, a large open room, holes for gas, something to hold her down if need be... the girl was starting to put things together, and the picture wasn't pleasant. Terror filled, and she started looking around, desperate for an exit. It was then that she heard a sliding sound, something like a door opening. Fighting against the supreme fear, she turned, gazing at what entered with a mix of horror and desperation.
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It was dark. Constant darkness with brief interruptions of beaming light through the single slot in his cell. Water and food, just enough to keep him alive. If not for being the last of his kind, perhaps he'd let starvation take him; it had to be better than whatever experiments they had in store for him. With the state of his race uncertain, however, he needed to survive. He waited only now for his chance to escape the clutches of Shinra. The flow of time had been confused since his capture, but he was sure days had passed now. What could they be waiting for?
Time continued pressing forward with nothing but silence for Nanaki until, finally, a churning mechanized tick or click began and the ceiling above opened with a split. Light spilling around as he rose with the floor beneath him. He winced at the abuse the sudden bright light imposed upon sensitive eye. His tail of flames whipped with ferocity as he prepared to be harassed. Instead, he was greeted with a lone human in a peculiar setting. She seemed vulnerable, hardly threatening. Red XIII glanced about. The purpose of their union didn't seem so obvious at first.
Outside of the room, Hojo and a handful of other Shinra employed scientists observed the scene. "We had to expect this," Hojo commented idly. "It was a one-in-a-million shot that our rare little prizes might mingle." A female scientist responded with a nod and a short, professional, "Yes, sir. Gases of a pinkish hue began to spew into the container housing the two species. A painstakingly created combination of each species chemical compound meant to complement one another, so that the very basic instincts of their bodies might recognize the other of the same species. It was only step one of a long list of tricks, but Hojo wanted the most natural sort of mating he could create.
Inside, not much time had passed since Red XIII was brought in and now the pheromones were flooding the room. Slowly meant to alter perception of the two beings, Red reacted first by lowering his nose and covering the wet tip with his paws. Poison, was the first thought. But as the fumes begin to slip by and into his system, it was beginning to make sense. His body tingled with the very beginnings of curious arousal. His eyes now watched whom he believed to be human. What would come of this? The ample set of breasts, the curves frustratingly hidden behind her clothing, Nanaki wanted to catch her scent. Nanaki found her more and more attractive to the eyes.</s>
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Fayte paused outside the town entrance, glancing once more back to her home, then to the ball in her hand. Her eyes were an emerald shade of green, her dark brown nearly black hair fell along her back. She wore a soft pink toque that matched her school girl skirt, while her top was black, and tight to her still fairly young body of seventeen years old. She was nervous, she could admit that about setting off on her new adventure, with one of her father's old fire Pokemon. She had promised him she would be the best, so that promise she was going to do the best she was able to.
Her chest rose and fell with every breath she drew in. As she turned back to the path before her, her black shoes silent on the dirt path. She raised her hand as she gazed at the Poke Ball within her clasp. This was it, a start to a new life. A life where she will change history. A smile curved her lips as she pressed on. How corny was that. She mused to herself, shaking her head from one side to the next.
She entered the forest just before sunset, by the time she allowed the Fire Dog out of his Poke Ball. It would be their first meeting as Trainer and Pokemon. Not from the sidelines as she watched her father battle other trainers or at small gatherings. Would he accept her as his new master?
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The red beam from the Poke Ball shot out, expanding and giving form to Arcanine within. The fire Pokemon stretched its limbs, front and back showing off its muscles were in great shape. Standing firmly, the orange-and-black stripes pokemon looked around for his master but didn't see him. The only person around was a young girl standing behind him, which he pretty much ignored at first.
He walked a few paces in a circle, trying to track down his master. "Maybe he was lost," he thought, "and my Poke Ball ended up in this girl's hand." Or maybe she... he thought, and gave her a menacing look for a moment. There was a light breeze in the forest, and he caught the scent. He perked up his ears and approached her slowly, sniffing at her feet and up her body. Being six feet tall, it was an easy task to recognize her from toe to head.
He knew now it was his master's daughter; she sure had grown since the last time he saw her. He stared at the Poke Ball in her hand and barked, as if telling her why she had it with her. Without her permission, he took possession of it in his jaw. He shook his head in disappointment of how easy it was... so weak. He didn't understand why he was doing this with her. Unaware of what was going on, but he sure wasn't approving of her holding his Poke Ball. Just like that, he turned his back on her and started walking deeper into the forest.</s>
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At the X-Men's new mansion in Utopia, Rogue was sitting on her room watching TV on her sofa when she could hear Scott and Emma fighting again. She couldn't make out what it was about, but when she opened her door to see Emma walking past her in a storm, she asked, "Everything okay, sugar?" As she touched her shoulder to absorb her memories, Rogue didn't expect to find a dream that Emma had about the two of them. In the dream, they were sharing a shower together while making out. Rogue felt pretty turned on by it, so she invited Emma into her room. "Wanna talk about it in my room?"
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For Emma, the lingerie and the skimpy outfits were part of who she was - it was something that defined her as a person. Of course, since she was the White Queen of the Hellfire Club, everything she owned was white. She looks at Rogue and gives her a gentle smile. "You know, Rogue," she says in a stern yet playful voice. "It's not nice to take someone else's memories." She tells her. She is wearing her cape, which has fluffy fur around her neck, and a top that leaves her rather exposed, along with a pair of shorts that cover her ass, but are a little lower than usual. Anyone walking by can clearly see her white thong. She looks at Rogue and laughs. "Why the hell not?" she asks. "I'm sick of Scott's shit making me want to go all lesbian... I swear, I'm sure that a woman knows how to treat a lady well." She tells her as she walks into Rogue's room. She waves her hand towards her, and a chair flies over to her. She looks at Rogue and smiles. "Hmmm, how you have grown," she says.</s>
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Life was an endless misery for Vincent Wells, a desk jockey who worked at a company run by Lukas, a mysogynistic bastard who constantly called on Vincent to clean up his messes, whether it was a puddle of cum on the conference table or a rightfully angry woman who wanted her due. If that wasn't enough, his hideously "conservative" supervisor constantly berated his work ethic, saying things like "America wasn't won by lazy shits like you," or "Just like you demo-can'ts! You just want to cash that welfare check don't you!"
But that was only one of the many circles of hell around Vincent's neck. The other source of anguish was his tiny apartment, which he shared with his ex-girlfriend Chelsie, the head cheerleader from college who stuck with him through late nights and failing grades. She was the one every man, student, and teacher lusted after, but she stuck with him because he was the main support in their relationship. He didn't notice her unkind words or the little lies she told him until he started noticing used condoms stuck to the toilet bowl. It took him a few months to put the pieces together, but he eventually figured out that his 'best friend' was banging her behind his back. Of course, his big tip off was an overheard phone conversation with one of Chelsie's bobbleheaded friends...
"I mean, yeah his dick is pretty big...no...why would I?...I think I was his first, I'm not sure...I know he's pathetic...look, he worships the ground I walk on-- that's good enough for me...of course I am...Troy, 'the best bud'...sounds like a man but--his cock is pretty small compared, he isn't afraid to use his tongue though..."she burst out laughing."unlike some people..." Vincent was mortified. He couldn't believe she was so shallow and uncaring. Yet there it was in her own words.
He stayed with her in spite of what he heard that night. His fear of being alone paralysed him completely. Maybe if he tried harder, it wouldn't be so bad.
The thing is, a man can only take so much before he breaks. It took twenty-four years, but he finally grew a pair of heavy ones. He wasn't going to be the whipping boy anymore. Monday fell on a new man.
The first thing Vincent did was report his boss for sexual harassment and creating a hostile work environment. It was a small, simple gesture, but he was only getting started. His next target was his fascist supervisor, and he wasn't getting off with a simple visit from HR.
The thing about Herman was that he loved his vintage Mustang, which he called "the only real American car." Vincent had always thought it a little bland, painted white as it was. To thank Herman for his inspiring words, he decided to spray some nice "gay" purple paint on it and cram the tailpipe with a big fat black dildo.
There was nothing left at his life-crushing job, so he quit. Simple and easy.
His last act of vengeance would prove to be his rebirth, not quite the way he planned.
Because of the grievous betrayal his best friend committed, it was only fair that he should get to say his piece. Unfortunately, his mouth wasn't up to talking, so his fists picked up the slack. The cops had to tase him into submission before they could even get close.
Three months later, Vincent found himself serving a five-year sentence for assault.
Prison was strangely liberating for him. He didn't have to take anyone's crap as long as he could back up his talk.
Vincent truly and deeply enjoyed backing his talk up. By the second year of his imprisonment, Vincent had become well respected by the convict population. The third made him the boss. His fourth made everyone beg to be his bitches.
Prison made Vincent into the man he had always wished he was.
On the outside, the world seemed so different. He could see what was so fresh and pure in the world, its potential.
He had to make sure it met that potential. He had seen the dregs and refuse of society and fucked them all. He knew how to keep them in their place. Vincent was full of strength and desire; he had kept this world pure and right. Gotham would be the starting point. The world would see what a real man could make of this rotten place.
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"B-but puddin' cup..." Her lower lip quivered. Sure, Joker was an ass, but this? She didn't think it would go to this. Certainly he would want to help her instead of just bolting. After all they had been through, after all she put up with, a little loyalty wasn't too much to ask for, was it? Well, apparently it was. Considering the latest bimbo clinging to his arm. Harley wasn't particularly surprised, it wasn't as if the Joker really did much other than sleep around, go on killing sprees, and otherwise indulge his madness. Still it hurt.
And it was scary.
It wasn't as if she could just walk back into Arkham and go about her supposed life without him. He was the prince, she was the princess right? Forever and only his, the Harlequin from Commedia dell'Arte.
"Don't take it personally my dear, put on a happy face. It's just you have your problems, and I have mine. And I find it ever so pointless to have the same sickening routine over and over. Certainly you know that more than ever!"
"B-b-but!"
"My dear little Harley...my happy face gal. You know I can't stay here it just isn't good for my health, now that you are all full of he, and even less of a she. Come now, you know I don't like sad faces. Cheer up, before I make you cheer up."
She wanted him to. She really did. That ungrateful bastard, she wanted him to beat her down at least one more time, to fuck her inside out and make her whole. If only for the relief that he would stay with her one more night. However he moved to the fire escape and all she should do was hold on for dear life against the wall.
"Aww Quinny, Pointless, little useless Quinny. If you won't smile for me, I'll do it myself."
Sweat was the absolute worst. Well, except maybe the cool of the room when she threw off the blanket. But who was she really kidding, it was the wobbly heat between her legs that was most annoying. Of all the things she had gotten used to, there were still a few kinks she was working out as far as her...appendage went.
See, Ivy may have some good ideas, but often those ideas aren't as tested as they should be. Which, strength, agility, and heightened reflexes aside, certain chemicals should be tested before the use on humans. In case they happen to become...a bit manly. Literally.
She wasn't displeased with her body, per se. Rather she found the bulging member between her legs to be a kind of an annoying curiosity. Something she was still discovering in terms of its potential uses for her work. She still had what her mother gave her, and most likely the organs that came with it, but it was her newly grown cock that took the front of her new masturbatory urges. Standing at a good nine and a half inches tall, fully erect that is, it was one of the few things that helped pull her out of her depression after that maniac left her. Maniac? Oh, more like coward, piece of shit, dirt bag, jackass. The real maniac was what he left behind. Little Harley Quinn, little pet bitch to that jackass? Not so much anymore. In fact now that the Clown Prince of Crime was out of the way, it was time for the Queen of Havoc to stake a claim in the burning pile of feces that was and forever will be Gotham. In the few months since he left she had already made a substantial impact by herself. Not that there was much to be heard of as far as villains or heroes. Who was she kidding? Everyone was some shade of villain really, and as far as the bat went--by far the worst in terms of "hero villains"--was too mysteriously absent in the city. She didn't really care, after all since his lover the joker left, certainly batsy would go.
She had to remember that. That would make a nice addition to her site.
She pulled on her clothes and wondered about the night's work. There was much to do. People to kill, killers to recruit, stuff to steal, and stuff to give. She wouldn't burn the city down like Joker tried oh so many times. What was the point of reigning over nothing after all? No, instead her city deserved something more. It deserved the unexpected. It deserved piles of burning bibles, and money raining down on the common folk. It deserved all of the guns to be taken from the police and given to any and all persons old enough to point and shoot. And thus began the terror that was Harley Quinn, the Queen of Havoc, Goddess of Anarchism.
Her costume changed as well. What was once a parody of power, picked out and loved by the Joker, for it was the female version of him--became something more suiting of a disillusioned woman. Black skin-tight leather replaced spandex. She created a new hat whose simple black matched her leotard, and the dangling puffs transformed into something that looked more like rubies one would find on a crown...or blood one would find on a sword. She wore flat red boots, and red gloves that went up to her elbow. Her mask stayed the same, other than now she took the time to delicately paint a small red heart on her left cheek.
She smiled into her reflection. Not one of those cheeky grins she gave the Joker, but an honest one that whispered stories of crime, insanity, and perhaps most of all, sex. Little chaste Harley was gone now. And she was using every opportunity to prove it.
She exited out of the abandoned complex leaving the small storage room she was staying in without a care. If anyone was stupid or bold enough to mess with her new found home--she would deal with them accordingly. She was the reigning law around here, and everyone who had earned a name knew it.</s>
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Hulk was so confused. He'd been dominant for nearly three days now, ever since fighting with the tiny human soldiers and being hit with that strange tingly beam of energy. At first it had infuriated him, the burning sensation sending him into a state of rage that destroyed the small people's armored cars and equipment. He'd smashed the metal thing that sent the beam at him. Eventually the people ran away... they always did. No one could beat Hulk. He'd wandered off afterwards, looking for a peaceful spot where he'd be left alone. Normally though when he fell asleep, puny Banner always came back, and he went away. Not this time. He'd woken up, still Hulk, and confused. He was Hulk, but he was calm. Well, calm wasn't the word. He wasn't angry, but he was indeed frustrated. His body had been tense since he'd woken up, and he kept getting erections on and off. Being unable to control it or figure it out, he'd gotten himself angry again, and destroyed several blocks of jungle. Eventually he found a hot spring in the jungle and enjoyed a soothing, peaceful swim. But still Banner did not come back. Hulk hated puny Banner, but it was strange not going back to him. He remembered at the time thinking that maybe Banner had left somehow, and perhaps Hulk was on his own. That got him angry again even though he didn't know why. However by the end of the second day he'd passed out by the spring, and when he woke up, Betty was waiting for him.
"Hulk... feels strange," Now here he was, with the small human woman straddling his waist. She had claimed to want him...the way she wanted Banner. Hulk was confused at first, but the female was pleasant, soft, and comforting. He liked the way her skin felt against his. His massive green cock couldn't agree more. Ever since she got there it had been fully erect, its eighteen-inch length as hard as rock, and as thick as a horse's phallus. Thick, pulsing veins ran its length, visibly throbbing with his heavy heartbeat. And his grapefruit-sized balls had been tense for days now, eagerly waiting for release. Hulk wanted the small woman, but he didn't want to break her, so he waited for her to act, growing more and more tense just looking at her soft skin.
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A new mutant had emerged. But I was unsure whether this mutant was born with their powers or had developed them through some other means. I had never seen the being in person, but I had seen a picture. They were a mean, green, fighting machine. A massive creature with incredible strength. They looked more like an alien than a human, and I suppose that we had a lot in common. We were both alien-looking with colored skin, and people often shunned us because of it. As Magneto's accomplice, I had built up quite an immunity to fear. Whatever he told me to do, I did, without fearing the consequences. This task would prove to be literally insane.
Find a way to implant a secret microchip on the back of a savage, wild, 20-foot green lunatic that can crush a human with one finger? Challenge accepted. I had done my research on the incident of the Hulk, the laboratory, and even, the woman...Betty Ross. A fairly attractive woman for a human...but I would have to duplicate her without ever meeting her. Only through picture and a bit of imagination. And so that's what I did. I ventured off into the jungle in search for him. It took a couple of days, but finally, I found a strip of smashed trees and followed that to a hot spring, where I found the ginormous beast amidst, relaxing in the water. I transformed into his precious Betty Ross, pretending I had searched long and hard to find him, and commencing into my savvy seduction technique.
I couldn't believe the amount of sexual arousal the Hulk was under. I had never, in my many endless years of mutant encounter, seen a being so gargantuan in every way shape or form, and I had slept with many people. None of them held a cock as massive as the Hulk. It was almost terrifying to think of, but deeply arousing all the same. I had to keep focus and I couldn't mess this up. Whether or not I was going to sleep with him, the chip needed to be clipped to the back of his neck. And now, I was facing a monster awakening, and I had yet to find the chip. My eyes widened nervously as I realized, taking off my black lacey bra, that I must have dropped the tiny gadget somewhere in the forest. I bit the corner of my lip, I couldn't blow my cover, You were big before, but now... you're huge. I rubbed my slender fingers down his chest.
I had to find a way out of this. Just as I went to toss my bra behind me, a hanging branch above suddenly broke off; smacking me straight in the head and causing me to momentarily lose concentration. With a throbbing headache, I lost Betty Ross. The previous clothes morphed back into my skin and it transformed from a tan to my exotic blue form. Holding my head in pain, I slowly opened my bright yellow eyes, only to realize my form had changed only by looking at the reflection of myself in his big green eyes.</s>
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The laboratory was very quiet today, which Chikorita certainly hadn't expected. She knew what day it was, certainly. It was her moving day. The day when she was assigned herself a rookie Pokemon trainer. It was an interesting thought, and while she could have quite easily decided that she wasn't going to go, it seemed like fun. Time outside of Sandgem was seldom spent, and Chikorita would often feel like she had gotten far too used to this place. Outside seemed much more exciting to her, and today was finally her chance to find out what it was like... but nobody had arrived so far, and it was nearing midday. For a while she had worried that nobody was going to come around, and that she'd be trapped working in the lab for the rest of her life. It wasn't a bad place, but it was a little boring.
It might have been a little easier to relax if she couldn't smell... whatever that was. Some kind of indescribable smell that made her skin tingle. It seemed to be growing stronger as the day went by, and while she tried her best to rest for an hour or two before someone arrived, it just didn't seem to be working.
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Ace Masterswas family of Samuel, Gray and Daisy Oak but also of Ash Ketchum. He was a far relative and a few generations younger. In his heart, he was the same as Ash. Ace always wanted to be a Pokemon Master but he didn't look up to Ash nor to Gary. He looked up to an Arcanine, his father's Arcanine. His father was one of the greatest Pokemon Trainers ever existed. Ace also had a sister, Lily. Lily was 13 years old and made her four years younger than Ace was. Professor Rowan was replaced by Dawn and Lucas and they were even better than Rowan ever was.
But something was wrong with Ace. He started to jerk off on his sister sometimes and the mysterious Pokemon namedNinetales found out about that. The Shiny Ninetales was considered as a Pokemon that could use black magic so she could curse somebody. When Ace was about to wake up, he got a dream where Ninetales told him about the fact that he wasn't a good person and that he was going to be cursed. As Ace woke up, he just went down the stairs and didn't think about the dream. He was already dressed and ready to go get his first Pokemon. "I'm going mom!" Ace shouted as he walked out the house.
On his way towards Sandegem, everything was okay but when he was just inside of Professor Dawn and Professor Lucas' lab, he felt a bit weird but he didn't give any attention to it. "I'm here," Ace said as he walked towards them.</s>
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Here you go, hope it's okay.
Rina was new to the Amane ranch and already finding it hard not to leave already. She was hired to help the ranch's number one cowboy with the horses, but all she was getting were catcalls from the other farmhands and cowboys who worked there. Rina sighed. "My outfit probably isn't helping my case," she said.
Picture of Rina:
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Most only knew him as Night, he never had ever told anyone in this remote place his real name and wasn't about to change that. His eyes were often fully black or showed signs of red when really angry, usually with another rancher and being the lead he could do whatever he wanted to any of them and get away with it. The new one needed to work harder, and seeing her standing there getting cat calls only made the insides start burning.
"Get to work on cleaning out those stables," he said.</s>
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Cersei Saint smiled slightly as she stepped into the hotel room, pausing in the suite's doorway as she tried to figure out where Harry was. Most boyfriend/girlfriends would have just walked in, but they weren't dating, no matter how much the public wanted to believe she was dating her most popular novelist. But because they seemed so determined to believe it, and Harry took care of her like Draco did, for a few hours she was willing to forget that she really wasn't dating him.
"Potter?" She asked sounding amused as she walked through the living room of the suite, knocking on the bedroom door before walking in. Not even bothered as he finished buttoning up his dress shirt, smiling slightly.
Cersei looked pretty glamorous herself. The gown was a brilliant black that made her soft skin glow almost white, her dark hair, so dark that it had blue highlights shown around her shoulders. Her eyes were even more extraordinary. A soft charcoal grey, framed by dark eyelashes, her makeup done just so that her eyes seemed even bigger, even more like a baby doe. In high-heeled shoes she was almost as tall as he was, studying him with a soft smile.
While she didn't feel for him that same desperate passion that she had had with Draco, she still cared for him, because he had been there in those first days after Draco died. Shaking her head to get rid of the thought, Cersei smiled slightly, "Come on. If we don't hurry, we're going to be late." She said grinning widely. Because it was their last day in the States, and she wanted a true New York moment, and that meant seeing a play on Broadway.
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Harry smiled as Cersei walked in, his head tilted a little. "Thanks, Cer," he said, gently taking her fingers and kissing them before finishing the last of his buttons. He never seemed to notice that she liked him, but he did, and he loved her just as much as she loved him. He never did anything about it though, he could never betray Draco like that. "I know we're going to be late, I'll just time turn us back an hour if I take too long," he teased, grinning a little. They both knew he had no such thing; he was only a novelist, after all. In fact, he was one of the most famous novelists in the world, the creator of the biggest romance erotica to hit both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He made more money than Lucius Malfoy did, much to the Malfoy lord's disgust. He smiled as he carefully pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, which was the only way to keep it under any real control. He stroked the stubble on his cheeks and chin. It wasn't a beard, but it wasn't five o'clock shadow either - it was the perfect in-between that women loved.
"alright, I'm ready," Harry promised smiling as he took her arm, ever the gentleman, and led her out into the hall and down the street towards the theater where they were showing the Broadway musical Cats. Harry loved the show, and he was certain that Cersei would too; she just loved felines. He smiled as they gave their tickets to the attendant and were shown to their seats, Harry settling comfortably into his chair happily as he leaned back on the soft cushioned seats and settled his hands onto the small table in front of him. His heart fluttered as he gently settled his hand onto hers, smiling at her. "Draco would have loved this play..." Harry spoke often about Draco, the world knowing that Harry and Draco had started a tentative friendship after their sixth year. No body or parts had been found except a few strands of hair and a lot of blood.
He grinned again. "I told you we weren't going to be late." He stated as most of the crowd swarmed into the theater, a very familiar figure walking in. Tall, slender, pale skin, silver blond hair, eyes that were as silver as the ring on his finger. His own suit made his perfection even more perfect as he moved past Harry who froze, swallowing thickly as he glanced at Cersei, making sure she hadn't seen him, hoping desperately that not-dead-in-the-least Draco Malfoy sat as far away from them as possible so Cersei didn't notice him. Then, of course, Draco sat right in front of them, not at all aware of people who knew him being so close. He had run to America, New York City, for a reason after all, so no one would know who he was. Harry hoped desperately that she didn't notice him, or worse, he noticed them. The lights already dimming to let the show begin, Harry could find an excuse to leave right?... terrible stomach ache maybe? No, he had used that one to get out of going to that stuffy Gala? Maybe he could start a fire? No, she would know it was him; what the hell was he going to do!?</s>
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The day started simply enough. The doctor came home from work late, as normal. His son was nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered. He knew perfectly well what the boy was doing and wanted no part of it. Blasted child of his running off to help the Shinigami at a moment's notice. None the less with the Kurosaki boy. Ryuuken simply sighed and put his things on the kitchen table. The house was empty and he had it all to himself. Again. With a quick glance at the contents of the fridge, he decided he wasn't hungry. But he did need a shower and a good night's sleep.
With two fingers, he pushed his glasses up higher on his face. As he headed up the stairs, he paused. Thinking he heard something. But he felt no one else in the house and quickly dismissed it. Rarely did he use any of his powers, but with the increased numbers of Shinigami and Hollows, he stayed alert. All he wanted right now was a relaxing shower. It had been yet another long, hectic day at the hospital. Some would say it was a good day; he had only fired two nurses and one doctor.
Ryuuken turned the knob and first turned the water of the shower on. He let it run without bothering to shut the door. If his son came home, he could hear it. The man undressed slowly, letting the steam roll over him. He let out a deep sigh and rolled his shoulders. He closed his eyes and placed his glasses on the sink. The tie followed. Slowly, items came off leaving him in his pants and unbuttoned shirt. The night was peaceful, and it was just what he needed.
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Sosuke let his chocolate brown eyes flicker over his followers as he sat on the throne which had been made especially for him by the residents. Things were moving along at a fairly decent pace and he had some time to spare. So how should he fill this rare moment of free time? There were many things he could do but what would be the most advantageous to him? Sosuke thought silently for a short while and then a smile came to his lips - his mind made up - as he rose and strode out of the throne room without glancing back. Not too long afterward, he appeared directly outside Ryuuken Ishida's house with a scrap of white cloth in his hand and a smile on his face which might have been pleasant had one not known his true nature. Sosuke entered the building without much effort since in his reaper form, material walls couldn't stop him.
Due to the fact that he wasn't of solid matter at the moment. He could hear water running upstairs and flash stepped up to the room in question, just in time to see Ryuuken remove his tie and set his glasses on the sink. Oh what perfect timing he had, Sosuke thought with a smirk, using his abilities to appear directly behind the Quincy and stretched out a hand to remove the other male's shirt. "Why don't I help you with that?" The god-like reaper murmured in that smooth as silk voice he possessed and tossed the shirt away from both of them with a flick of his wrist. This wasn't just a whim of his to pay Ryuuken a visit, no Aizen always had a plan when he showed himself to others and this was no different. What that plan might be was another matter entirely and one that he was sure no one would understand. Not until it was too late to do anything about it.
The night wouldn't remain peaceful for long. No, Sosuke expected Ryuuken to react instinctively and try to shoot him which would not be a very wise choice.</s>
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Freeside was much as it had been since the Courier's victory almost a month ago. There were more people now, and they tended to look healthier. The differences were a bit more subtle: buildings looked a touch cleaner, people were wearing nicer clothes. Corpses had been cleaned up. Even the Old Mormon Fort had actual wooden buildings inside it now. They were still fairly primitive, but now they were able to bring it more medical technology and workers, originally needed to help them cope with the flood of injured people in the wake of the Second Battle of Hoover Dam.
There he was, walking down the middle of Freeside, wearing an eye-catching duster outfit. He had short, messy black hair and a thick goatee. Combined with his sunglasses and bandana, he certainly stood out amongst the poor neighborhood. His confident gait, the purpose with which he moved, and the polished black assault rifle (with a silver metal, polished receiver) gave him an air of authority. Most people who walked around simply ignored him, though some pointed and whispered in hushed tones as he passed. He didn't seem to fit the descriptions of the travellers and citizens, of "Courier Six," whose real name nobody seemed to know. He was supposed to be kind and giving and... well, this man looked dangerous. Badass, one might say, as he patrolled the streets.
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After her escape, Jessica realized that there was only one place that she could go and find any amount of safety: New Vegas. Fully protected by the enigmatic 'Courier' and his army of Securitrons, it was inaccessible to Caesar's Legion, the group that had enslaved her for nearly a year.
She didn't have the caps to get into the Strip. That much is for sure. The Securitrons had turned her away immediately. However, she had heard rumors about the kind-hearted Courier and his tendency to patrol the City himself - even the slums of Freeside.
For days, Jessica worked and survived in Freeside, doing anything for some caps or even a hot meal. All the while however, she kept an eye and ear out for any news of her potential savior. Luck was on her side, as word spread that the Courier was out and about, keeping safe the streets of Freeside. She flew from the seedy bar she had been frequenting in search of the Courier.
His regal presence and the deference with which everyone treated him left no doubt in her mind that the simply dressed and armed gentleman strolling down the street was the mysterious man she had been seeking. After a calming breath, she ran up to him, completely ready to recite the speech she had already prepared, providing a level-headed and logical proposal as to how she could be useful to him if he allowed her to stay in the strip, despite her poverty. However, to her dismay, when she opened her mouth what came out was: "Looking for a good time tonight, sir?"</s>
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Her entire body was sore. Nothing seemed to feel the way it was supposed to. Her body was heavy, and she felt almost as if some of her skin were bare. But that couldn't be right...could it? Her eyes fluttered open with much effort and she realized that she was not on base, not in her ship, and certainly nowhere near true civilization. Gasping, she sat up too quickly and then fell back again, a bout of dizziness pushing her back faster than any living being could have. What the hell happened? How did she end up in a hut like this? Bringing her hand up to her head to hold it, she froze. No uniform. No pajamas. No panties. What the hell?! She gasped again and looked down at herself. What was she wearing? She seemed to be wearing golden armor of some kind...well, at least it was made of gold. It wouldn't do much to protect her, however, since it didn't do much to cover her at all. Her full breasts bulged against the golden cups and from there to her hips was uncovered, revealing a flat, toned stomach. Her long, strong, shapely legs were completely revealed, only a small strip of metal covering her front and stopping at mid thigh. The back was pretty much non-existent. And now that she was thinking of it, she seemed to have some sort of headpiece as well. What the fuck was going on?!
Frantically, she tried to remember what had happened to her, but the last thing she remembered was flying over this area on patrol...had she been attacked? Was there an accident? What happened? And why was she dressed like this? Slowly, she sat up and looked around the hut, finding that nothing in particular was strange about it. And then she saw a giant lizard woman step in. Ordinary humans might have screamed, but she knew that the people of this planet were anthropomorphic. After a moment of staring at this creature, she asked, "What happened?"
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The lizard woman looked at her and started to growl something. Other than being green and much of her body scaly, and her face dominated by a slight snout, she seemed to be dressed much like Krystal, except her "armor," if you could call it that, was a darker shade of green. Despite the tail, the cocked ears, and reptilian skin, the alien was clearly as female as Krystal herself. Her armor displayed her heavy breasts, flat smooth belly, flaring hips and lean legs the same as Krystal's armor presented her. Seeing Krystal's puzzlement, she paused a moment, closing her eyes. Holding the back of Krystal's bra were two shoulder pad bits of armor that extended two straight slats against the back of her neck, like part of a collar. While the alien woman waited, Krystal felt her neck tingling, and there were more tingles from the headpiece atop her hair. It didn't feel bad, just a kind of tingling, and then it went away.
"There," the lizard girl growled. Actually, she growled just as she had before, but Krystal heard it translated within her thoughts. "Now you can communicate normally with all the tribes. And I will be able to explain your new status." She sat down in a chair built for her dimensions. "I am ..." the growl was untranslated. "Like you, I serve the warriors of the Sharpclaw Tribe. But I'm getting ahead of myself, I suppose." She composed herself again and restarted. "Your incursion was detected by the Techno Tribe. They have ways of detecting ships that fly. Just as they furnished the warriors of the tribes with flying belts to defend us. Our warriors, and those of the other tribes attacked and disabled your ships. Seeing the pilots were all female, naturally you were seized from your vessels and divided up between the tribes as captive slaves. That is what you are now. You are a pleasure slave for the warriors. Your armor marks you as an available slave for all warriors in camp. It allows you to wander freely through the camp, but will not allow you to leave the confines. You are expected to service any who desire you." She looked askance at Krystal. "And I suspect that will be many, and often."
She waved a hand at Krystal. "You were marked by General Scale at your capture, although you were not conscious to enjoy it. His essence stains you, still. The warriors will want you clean for their pleasure." There was, in fact, a milky clear residue on Krystal's breasts, cheeks, belly, and legs. It was dried now, but still stuck to her skin thickly. The girl pointed out the door toward the rising sun. "You will want to clean in the pool of Zora's Domain. It lies beyond the Scaleskin Tavern. It will help prepare you for what is to come."</s>
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Night had fallen, and the compound was just coming awake. Due to their preference for darkness, the drow who resided there were a nocturnal lot. The temple of Eilistraee was central to the small walled town, and everyone served the Dark Maiden in one aspect or another, even if they were not dedicated to the priestly service of her. There was a market place, a tavern/inn, a stable, and the various houses laid out in an orderly fashion. All of the land surrounding the town was wooded, with the occasional open field or clearing. Most of the goods needed by those residing within were traded for in exchange for less mundane things. Smiths turned out fine pieces of armor and weaponry; herbalists traded magically-enhanced potions; and there was no end of those able to teach others the way of sword and bow and hunting and tracking.
The arrival of a stranger was announced as he approached with his beast of burden, and word traveled through the small town to the ears of those who resided in the temple. One such curious resident was T'riss, a longtime priestess serving the Dark Maiden since she was young. Most of those within the walls were suspicious, but considering the fact that she'd spent a good decade or two outside of them, she was a little less hostile when it came to those who might not be as naturally long-lived as she and her ilk. She wasn't the only one, however, and soon the gate would be opened to allow him entrance, and he would be guided to the center of the town, to the very heart of it.
The temple of Eilistraee looked as if it had sprung from the ground itself, seemed fashioned of crystalline trees and vines, woven together to form a vast complex that paid homage to the beautiful young goddess. It was larger than one might expect, and there were several priestesses come out to welcome and inquire. Each of the dark-skinned elves was homage to beauty, and in diaphanous silks that left little to the imagination. They certainly were not a celibate group of worshippers, and the tallest of them was watching him quite closely as he approached.
T'riss was an attractive female, older than all aside from the high priestess herself. Long silver-white hair was caught up at the nape of her neck, tail trailing down between her shoulders. Bright blue eyes peered out from that slate gray face, and it was green silk that clung to her figure. She didn't look like one of the more dangerous residents of the town of dark elves, but looks often were deceiving among the drow.
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Thomas slid off of his horse easily as the priestesses approached him. The cloak hiding the divine's touch on him was removed and slung over the horse's saddle. Almost like a punch to the libido, it filled the area.
Thomas's appearance certainly didn't hurt either; broad muscular shoulders, a stomach that glistened like polished iron. Deep intricate tattoos that seemed a part of the skin. On each hand, dragon-skin gauntlets went up to the second knuckle and ended at his elbows. His pants were made of dragon leather, and his boots were heavy steel with pointed tips. However, the mark on his chest was seriously impressive. A woman who seemed both erotic and deadly. The tattoo was simple - a woman "kissing," as if in an air kiss. It wasn't an uncommon gesture for human women or any women whose men were leaving. This felt different, though - like a first love or a particularly amazing night partner. Only one goddess of lust had that level of power to flaunt, which also spoke of the warrior's skills.
Diebela, the Dragon Goddess of Lust, once supposedly cursed a female mage to be a dragon for causing a war that destroyed most of the world. To invoke her, one had to please her, a task that was said to be impossible. The level of pleasure granted the goddess decided her blessing level, visible by the number of marks on the priest or priestess's body. Most had a half dozen, but this warrior had thirty or so, most bleeding from the one over his heart.
Anyone who worshipped Diebela was an amazing lover, and could charm a dragon from its scales. Many used vocal magic and were infamous assassins. However, this warrior seemed almost nonchalant about the mark, not hiding it like others did. A large Gladius went horizontal to his waist while a Bisento's blade was visible at his right shoulder. The man was tall at 7 feet 6 inches, and very well built.
Diebela was a neutral goddess who thrived on chaos and power. She wasn't overly cruel or spiteful, however. The problem was most people who enjoyed sex considered her their goddess, and Diebela didn't see anything as sacred - age, race, marriage, her followers tended not to see such things as important either.
The man smiled at the Drow as he said, "Hello ladies. Sorry to intrude, but I'm looking for a companion or two for the night, and a bed to sate them in. I'm on a quest to kill a group of dragon worshipers a few leagues from here, and Milady suggested stopping by here."
Those with "the sight" would see a too beautiful woman, well the outline of her mumbling something to him. He rolled his eyes as he said, "She also apologizes for coming here without permission, but the mark I bear means me and her are connected more so than most, I'm sure. Most of you see or hear her, she's lessened the bond so as not to hurt you, but this is all she can do so."</s>
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Katniss Everdeen. 17 years old. The first person to volunteer as tribute for the Hunger Games. Subsequently involved in the first ever crowning of two victors of a single Hunger Game. Now officially the Capital's plaything while she was vying to keep her family and Peeta unharmed. It was obvious after her stunt with the nightlock that President Snow was not pleased with the results of her actions. Not only did they have to change the rules so they would live but now he was hearing whispers of the other districts having issues with rebellions. Ultimately, Katniss did not realize the impact that single action would bring but now she was being punished for it. In some ways, Peeta's actions caused a new plan for President Snow. He wanted to use the fact that Katniss was so desirable as a way to gain support for the Capital and to bring her back under his control. When he told her his plan, of course Katniss immediately and vehemently disagreed. It was then that Snow reminded her that she couldn't protect her family when she was hundreds of miles away...that Peeta went to all that trouble to be with her, it would be a shame to throw it away. He asked her what the safety of her family and boyfriend would be worth to her....apparently to Snow it cost her her virginity sold to the highest bidder.
The night of the auction, she went through the process of being dolled up by her prep team as normal but she was much quieter...much more reserved as they painted her up. The outfit she was presented by Cinna left little to the imagination. It was blood red and lacy, a pushup bra and matching boyshorts. She was paraded around in front of a massive crowd while a television behind her showed them various outsides and looks she'd been forced to model. Katniss was in her own mind as the crowd shouted out various number and bids, until one was the victor. She didn't even get to see him before she was dragged away and prepared for travel. Soon she was wrapped like a present in his choice of outfit and delivered like a package to his home.
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As one of the richer men in the Capitol, Charles had watched the games with all the luxuries imaginable. From the beginning he had admired Katniss' beauty as many as the men had, but as a reasonable man he had put many bids towards Cato. To say the end result of the Game had been surprising and disappointing was an understatement. After losing a good fortune because of the girl's actions, he pounced on the chance when her virginity was auctioned off. While he was slightly hesitant to spend another fortune towards having her for himself, his anger and desire for her had combined which had caused him to eventually cast the winning bid on her. The rules as had been explained to him were very simple. She needed to still appear as luscious as she ever had once his time with her was finished. Otherwise anything else was fair game. Charles planned on making her suffer. Not only had she cost him two fortunes, but she had also become one of the most desired females in the world. He wanted to make her beg for the things he would do to her.
Charles had been given the choice of decided what Katniss should be wearing when delivered to him. After much deliberation he had settled on a dress similar to what she had been wearing during her interview before the game. It was the same color red, but strapless, and the soft material hugged her form even tighter than the last had. The dress she was to be delivered to him in was also much shorter the red material would barely cover the bottom of her tight ass leaving her long legs completely exposed down to the high heels she would be wearing. Underneath the dress she would be wearing nothing but a tiny black thong. Once she arrived at his home servants would take her to one of his large bedrooms, leaving her standing in the middle of the open floor. About fifteen minutes after she arrived Charles entered the bedroom the door locking behind him.
Katniss Everdeen. You understand what you are to do here, with me? You understand what will happen should you disobey? He barely gave her time to reply before he spoke again. Spin around slowly. Let me get a good look at you.</s>
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M'gann stared at the now quiet Zeta-tube. Most of the gang had decided to go to a movie, but she had told them that she would stay behind and clean Mt. Justice. After all, with the glare Conner was giving her, she was obviously not welcome. M'gann silently pushed off the ground and floated down the hall. Conner had been cold toward her ever since she had opened up to him about her culture's relationships and they had broken up. Training was awkward... missions were awkward... everyone felt it, but not a single person approached her to see what they could do to help. They all went to Conner. After all, it was more likely that he would hurt or hurt someone... M'gann could take care of herself. Well, they were all wrong. She was breaking inside, and only one person cared. M'gann gently lay on the ground in front of his door and knocked. The door slowly opened to reveal her savior.
Looking through her lashes, M'gann blushed as the words tumbled out of her mouth, "You want to play Love Bite?"
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Thomas smiled as he looked at her. "You know I am more than happy to help you pet," he said, allowing the Martian into his room.
"Remember it's either Master or Thomas when we're alone, baby," he added, pulling the green-skinned teen into a deep kiss. Like with everything else, it was dominant and hard. His tongue rubbed hers while his hands caressed her chest through her top. He'd ordered her to make her breasts larger when they were alone and to slowly increase their size in front of the others. His hard torso rubbing against her back. He chuckled slightly to himself. "Did you read those books like I suggested? Study that top 100 sexiest women and superheroine lists the Playboy Channel did a few weeks back?"
He smirked. "I can't wait to play with your shape-shifting skills."
Thomas Alexander Hellsing, or Love Bite, was tall at six foot eight. He weighed an appropriate 320 pounds for his size. Thick muscles but still lean decorated his form. White blond hair hung to the middle of his back. He obviously had been showering, although a large cock was hardening behind his towel. His sapphire blue eyes arched with his neon green bio kinetic energy.</s>
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Sophie slipped into the tight suit in the changing rooms at the back of the bar. The suit was entirely black, encasing her from ankle to neck when the zipper was up. The look was completed by high-heeled boots and, of course, the cowl. Her long black hair was twisted up and pinned to her head underneath the cowl, with black eyeliner around her blue eyes. Loud music and commotion from the bar itself were muffled by the closed door, but only made her feel more uncomfortable. She still needed the money, but that was, as it had always been, the only reason she was there. Already her thoughts were hours away, after she'd danced for the customers, earned the tips they'd push into the suit where she had slid the zipper down. And if they wouldn't behave, she might just seek them out, after. And so she went through the motions. When the bar closed, she lingered until all the other girls had left. Then Batgirl would slip outside.
These nights she'd go after them with a kitchen knife and a long whip. She wasn't a great fighter yet, although she was taking classes in martial arts. The whip however was a prop from an earlier act she'd done at the bar, she'd gotten quite handy with that. Sophie still felt a little nervous as she stepped out. She picked her targets at work, perverts, thieves, muggers.
Yet her heart raced in excitement when she found that guy she'd been looking for tonight. This particular lowlife had been harassing Sammy at the bar, going as far as hitting the dancer when she told him off. Sammy was a friend, a colleague. This guy needed to be taught a lesson. Her luck was up as he was just going to pee. With a quick flick of her wrist, the end of the long whip struck at the back of his head. He yelped, hands going up to his hurting head in a reflex, leaving the man in a rather embarrassing position with his dick hanging out. That's what you get for hitting women. Sophie spoke in the most angry tone she could muster. Another flick of the wrist and the whip cracked in the air, making the man flinch. Don't let me catch you at it again. It was enough to get him to scurry away, one hand on his jeans, one hand on his head. She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. Doing this, especially when it went well, made her proud of herself. That in itself had been pretty rare before.
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Night. Night was the time when things other than daylight changed. The atmosphere changed, and the people changed. Many of those people would change from some ordinary citizen into a criminal, but for Bruce Wayne it was changing from a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist into the dark and brooding vigilante named Batman. Was it always the choice that Bruce made? The answer would be no. While the tragic deaths of his parents weighed heavily enough on his mind to drive him to become a vigilante, his first time out wasn't the best. He busted some muggers in a leather jacket and ski mask, but the criminals did not fear him. They mocked him first and continued their mocking until he knocked them unconscious from his superior fighting skills. After that night he knew that they would fear him as he was. That was when the idea of the cape and cowl came to be. He brushed it off immediately thinking that it was ridiculous and focused more on his love life and trying to move past the obsessions of his youth. Then he watched as the city decayed further without his help. More and more reports of crime filled the news stations and Bruce could take no more. After that the cape and cowl was donned and Batman began...
A few years had passed and he had grown in popularity as people leapt at the chance to vocalize their opinions on him. Some claimed he was some urban myth that was started by some punks, but it was proven wrong as a photo was taken of his thwarting a bank robbery and people certainly believed..
As his popularity grew many people began to copy him by taking to the streets and trying to do what he did. For instance this one woman who Bruce was surveying at the moment. While he was out on patrol he decided to check to make sure that none of the copycats were out tonight. GCPD reports placed one of the copycats operating in this area so he decided to take a look. He was observing the strip club as it was a hot spot where the lowest of the low gathered for viewing pleasure.
One stepped out to relieve himself but only met with the few cracks of a whip and he was running back inside. He caught the flash of black and silver and moved in after the creep was gone. He glided off of the building in front of the club and landed infront of her. He stood up and formed a menacing brood on his face, his mouth and body language as much. "What do you think you're doing?"</s>
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The reception hall had been transformed, the massiveness of the room starkly obvious as the tables and benches - traditionally available as a place for the students to study and socialize - were cleared away for the Garreg Mach Ball. The event was widely anticipated by the students, who no doubt needed a break from the dark reality of the day. The magic of a formal affair brought an energy of levity: even the candles upon the chandeliers seemed to burn brighter than usual, the flicker of the flames glimmering upon the expanse of freshly polished marble tiles. Two hundred officer's academy students socialized and drank champagne, their mass comfortably lining the walls without encroaching upon the dance floor that was the center of the room. Tonight, the student body collectively managed to forget the lurking dangers of their unknown enemy. Tonight there would be music, and dancing, and drinks... Tonight, Remire Village was forgotten.
Byleth remained a casual observer of the event, easily assuming the chaperone role that was expected of a professor. She watched with mild interest as the stringed instruments began to play ballroom music, queuing a minority of the young men present to bravely invite their favored lady to dance. The former mercenary couldn't claim to know most of the students in attendance: as she watched those gracefully moving about the center of the room, she was only able to identify Edelgard and Dimitri: both of whom danced with strangers, so far as the professor could tell. Her gaze could not help but attach to the two of several dozen she could recognize.
Her attention was suddenly brought back to her immediate surroundings, Claude approaching with an easy smile upon his lips. He winked as he reached out and grabbed the hand of the Blue Lion's professor. She was unable to resist as he led her to the dance floor: once arrived, the charming and confident house leader showed great talent, managing to successfully lead Byleth in a graceful dance despite her lack for previous instruction on the ritual. It was easy enough to enjoy Claude's company, but... After their dance, Byleth thanked him in her usual monotonous way, unceremoniously taking her leave thereafter.
She stepped away from the crowds, out the double door that opened out to the courtyard. The crisp night air filled her lungs and she held a breath for a moment before giving and long and slow exhalation. Sea-blue eyes scanned the exterior of the building, taking note of the presence of several lingering students, none of them known to her. Her interest and attention waned, her feet taking to wander as her mind strayed.
Byleth was pleasantly surprised to find Ashe within the goddess tower, her aimless walk yielding great reward.
Professor!"he greeted her brightly. "Did you come up here for a rest too?
Thats right,she agreed, offering an affirmative nod.
I guess we think along the same lines,"Ashe mused."I was feeling kind of worn out. Everyone else seems used to this kind of thing, but Ive never been to anything like it before,the archer admitted humbly. My friends did teach me a bit about proper manners and how to dance," he continued. "But I still feel out of place. Stepping on girls feet, messing up the pretty floral decorations"His laugh was endearing, even as it was the self-depreciative sort."Ive been a bit of a disaster. Sometimes I wonder if its even right for someone like me to be in a place like this.
Byleth was regretful to have not witnessed Ashe klutzing about the ball, consoling herself with an imagination of his delightful brand of innocence and awkward.I feel that way sometimes too,she confessed to his latter remark. It was true that a large part of her bond with the student was precisely because of the fact. They were both outsiders to their house. While the Blue Lions treated both of them with respect and affection, it remained that neither of them had grown up as the close friends of the crowned prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, nor had they attended a prodigious magic school. Byleth felt an immediate attraction to the common born archer: even as her demeanor might make it less obvious, the woman began to show a preference of his company fairly early in her career at the monastery.
Really? You do? Thats kind of reassuring!
She smiled lightly at the stress upon the pronoun. Could it be that he really revered her so?
Have you heard the stories about the Goddess Tower?"he asked causally.
Of course she had, but she didn't say as much. She preferred to listen to Ashe speak: the young man could be reading the dictionary and she'd remain absolutely enthralled. His voice poured from his lips like honey, while his speech had a sort of hopeful optimism that Byleth found to be as rare as it was inspiring.
"They say if a man and woman make a wish together here, the goddess will make it come true," Ashe continued.
Byleth considered briefly. Let's make a wish together, then, she suggested.
My thoughts exactly!" he chimed happily. "Do you have anything in particular you'd like to wish for?"
The professor trailed off. It wasn't that she couldn't identify her wish in that moment: it was simply that her desire wasn't appropriate and it involved present company.
Your wish is? Ashe inquired sweetly.
For your wish to come true, Ashe, Byleth decided.
What? My wish? W-well, um...let me think, he turned the facing of his body, looking away from his professor as he considered for a moment. All right, I've got it. I wish for my brother and sister back home to be able to live out their lives in peace.
That's just like you, Byleth remarked with a soft smile upturning the corners of her lips.
His gaze shifted back to his professor. This kind of thing is pretty embarrassing, huh?" The young man's cheeks reddened lightly.
Byleth showed no outward reaction but inwardly swooned. Ashe's blush was easily the most alluring sight she'd ever witnessed: it always caused for a rush of want, and the impulses were getting harder to resist by the day.
"Maybe I should be heading back," Ashe continued after a pause. "I'll never get better at fancy social events like this if I keep running away from them, right?" Understandably, he didn't seem particularly excited about the prospect. "I guess I should ask another girl to dance," he decided. "Oh, but I better make sure I go over the steps again first."
You could dance with me, Byleth offered. The invitation was given with a soft smile, otherwise remaining devoid of emotion. Her level tone and unnatural calmness was often misunderstood to be an adherence to professionalism: at present, though, that particular impression would be wrong. So very wrong.
"Really? You would do that?" His voice was grateful, inspiring his professor to hope that he considered the invitation to be significant.
"Wow, that would be great! ...Just promise not to laugh if I mess it up, okay?" Byleth didn't verbally respond, inclining her head by a single degree as she studied the young man. Her generally stoic expression had given way to a unique blend of amusement and affection. She smiled good-naturedly, her regard of him warm, even if the heat couldn't be felt outside of her own chest.
Come on. Let's go back,he insisted.
Byleth accepted Ashe's invitation, walking abreast the archer as their steps carried them towards the reception hall. In thoughtful silence for several long moments, Byleth experienced an undeniable swell at having the young archer at her side. She didn't feel a particular guilt at taking such a pleasure: even as the eighteen year old man was at least a decade younger than herself (she didn't know his exact age, but it was assumed to be in the upper reaches of her twenties), the woman had long ago morally muddled through the reasons why she shouldn't. The list was considerable: the first item, of course, being that professors were forbidden from taking sexual advantage of their students. Balanced against her selfish desires and fixation... Well. So far she'd managed to keep her hands off of him, despite a draw that was so intense that it was oftentimes painful. Byleth would try to fill the void of his light, habitually taking Ashe to dinner - with another classmate present - every time the team took their break day in the monastery. She cooked with him, took him to tea, gave him gifts... Admittedly, the professor was good to all the students of her house, and so likely it didn't seem to be entirely unbecoming behavior. But the reality of it...
Her gaze shifted to the handsome silver-haired archer.
He wouldn't stop you, she told herself with confidence. All you need to do is initiate...
As they neared their destination, Byleth hooked her arm around the bend of Ashe's elbow, in the style of one being escorted. Her body swept nearer to his over the span of a couple steps, the entanglement of her wrapped arm tightening briefly in a subtle hug-like squeeze. "I'm excited to dance with you,"she admitted as she loosened her grip to something more casual. Her attention focused intently upon his face."And not just because you're so exceptionally handsome,"she added with an uncharacteristic playfulness.
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Underneath the gaze of the moon's solemn light, two silhouettes walked closely together. Ashe had never expected to find himself in his present situation, the tempo in his heart rising with each successive step. To be walking with the Professor alone was already enough to make the awkward Garreg Mach Ball a pleasant experience, but to have the chance to dance with her? That was a fantasy that he had never expected to become true. As they moved across through the darkened courtyards that led back to the reception hall, Ashe had to sneakily pinch himself to make sure that he was in fact not dreaming.
Ashe was practically lost in his own thoughts when the Professor suddenly gravitated closer, grasping at his arm. Her unexpected touch was enough to cause a gash of red to singe the boy's otherwise pale cheeks. "Ah! Likewise, Professor... I'll admit, I'm very nervous about dancing, but if it's with you, I think I won't have much to worry about." He didn't have the opportunity to say anything more when his eyes caught the Professor's gaze staring up at his own. Even though she was his professor, it was very difficult for Ashe to resist the woman's charm, her sapphire gemstones often pervading his thoughts. He found himself staring back into them with his own vibrant shades of emerald, unable to look away from her captivating features.
"P-Professor!" Ashe's face was burning red, surprised by the Professor's sudden playfulness. While it wasn't the first time she had ever teased him, she certainly had never said anything like that to him before. "You can't just say those sort of things..." He whined, "People might get the wrong idea if they hear you say that... and I don't want you to get in trouble," Deep down, the boy wanted to requite the Professor's feelings, to tell her how he truly felt about her. But he was also scared, unsure of whether or not she would ever feel the same way about him. Ever since she comforted him about the death of his adopted father, he had harbored an ever-growing crush on his professor. She stubbornly beautiful and smart, but even more importantly, she never looked down upon him like some of the other nobles did. He was a boy of simple common birth and yet, the Professor always made him feel like he was much more than that.
"I... I... think you look beautiful too, Professor," he attempted to whisper underneath his breath, as if speaking a forbidden spell. As he spoke, he made sure to turn his face away so that his softly spoken words would be barely audible to the woman walking beside him. Before she could point out his embarrassing statement, the boy turned back towards his Professor, "Shall we head inside? I'm not sure how much longer the dancing will last for... and I'm not quite confident enough to dance without music." He allowed an embarrassed smile to draw across his face before leading her into the reception hall, where the festivities were taking place.
The reception hall was vibrant and lively, dense congregations of budding students intermingling with one another as they occupied the outer ring of the luxuriously furnished hallway. At the center of the room, the nobles danced gracefully to the gentle hymns of live violins, a lavish spectacle for a boy who had been born with nothing. From within the crowd, many familiar faces could be found, with many figures dancing with such confident decorum. Ashe felt completely out of place in such a setting... and yet, he would not lose this opportunity to dance with the woman he adored. "Ah, I think we can step in now!" He smiled, grabbing the Professor by the hand as he led her through the crowd and into the center of the room. Several of the nobles shot the boy strange looks, as it was abundantly clear that a commoner had no place in the waltz.
"This kid is just going to embarrass himself." One of the students from another house remarked.
"Shh! He's dancing with Professor Byleth. If she hears you saying such things, we could get in trouble," said another.
Ashe pretended not to hear the vitriol that was slung from the corner of his ear. "S-sorry, Professor, you might have to lead a little at first," A faux, slightly pained smile made its way across the boy's normally cheerful face. Although he always tried his best to remain positive, he knew that Byleth was becoming good at picking out his true emotions. Eventually, the music started... and the nobles each began moving with practiced expertise. He waited patiently for Byleth to lead, awkwardly taking his first few steps as he temporarily allowed nervous emotions to get the better of him. Ashe found himself looking down at the ground in an attempt to focus on his sloppy footwork, which helped little and eventually, the boy found himself stepping on the toe of the Professor's boot. "I'm... I'm sorry!" He squeaked, keeping his voice as low as possible as to not bring any more embarrassment to the woman he cared for. He tried his best to recover, changing his strategy so that he was looking up at the Professor's eyes instead of his feet.
"Haha. Do you see this idiot? He actually stepped on her foot..."
"Yikes, that's so embarrassing... do you think the Professor is okay? I'd be so embarrassed to be in her shoes..." Ashe sighed, his signature smile making its way across his face. He needed to stop caring about what other people were saying. He felt this was his chance to impress the Professor... and he was squandering it by letting his nerves gain the better of him. After focusing for a few moments, he realized that the dance was in fact much more simple than he originally anticipated - many of the moves being repeated several times over the course of the dance. He was quite adept with his feet and hands, having been a thief in his youth and an archer in school - so such a dance wasn't nearly as difficult as he thought. Over the course of several moments, his footwork hastily improved, until everyone began to notice he was on par with the other nobles around him.
"Oh hey, look at him, he actually looks pretty good!"
"Yeah...and he's pretty handsome too. Do you think he'll let me dance with him after?" Handsome? Ashe blushed, he continued to dance admirably but found himself blushing at the notion. He remembered what the Professor had said to him before they began dancing and wondered if it meant more than it seemed. Eventually, the dancing came to a close, the final festivities being wrapped up by the church as the students all prepared to return to their rooms for the night. The Professor and Ashe were separated when Byleth had to assist the other Professors with some of the other affairs for the night, but instead of going home, Ashe decided to wait in the halls for her to be free once again.
"Professor!" Ashe waved to the Professor as he caught her leaving the building. He moved towards her, his radiant smile practically glowing underneath the moon's light. "I'm so glad I caught you. I just wanted to say thank you for dancing with me... I know I wasn't very good, but you kept your promise and didn't laugh at me." He chuckled, "Even though you probably should have..." He added, crossing his hands nervously behind his back, "Hey, would it be alright if I walked you home? Call me old fashioned, but I don't think it'd be proper for me to let you walk home by yourself when it's so dark out." He paused, his face blushing slightly at his own offer. "What do you say?"</s>
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Dovahkiin. The most revered Nord in all of Skyrim. The slayer of Alduin, the Listener of the Night Mother, Guild Master of the Thieves guild, Archmage of the College of Winterhold, Harbinger of the Companions, and the ender of the Skyrim civil war. And what was this brave hero doing now? Currently shopping for a gold ring, from Marise in Riften. "All this jewelry, and yet you only have 200 septims. I will never understand you, Marise," Shadic said, shaking his head. He turned around and bid farewell to the Argonian. "Safe travels, land-strider," Marise replied. The Dragonborn looked to the sky, silently asking the Aedra why, before looking in front of him. "Maybe Maramal has something I can do... Come to think of it, I've never really looked around the temple. Maybe it's time I should." He muttered to himself before heading into the Temple of Mara.
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Calypso sat on a wooden pew facing the altar of Mara. The love goddess. Her chosen patron. She was one of the two women who paid tribute to Mara. There were also two men. Being a follower of the goddess of love, Calypso had often put the 'love' into practice. To be honest, things could get boring around the temple. After praying to Mara and cleaning the already spotless temple, there was nothing much else to do. Maramal was boring, as he was married. But he was often out at the local inn during the day, which gave Calypso plenty of time with the second male priest Briehl. Calypso didn't see herself as a slut, in fact, she didn't believe in the word at all. After being surrounded by people who worshipped the goddess of love, Calypso had decided that what she was doing was completely natural. It wasn't illegal, and it wasn't even immoral, considering she wasn't married. She just wanted a little fun. And after praying to a goddess that basically endorsed love making, she felt like it was almost to be expected.
Briehl, however, was nowhere to be seen today. Calypso leaned back in the pew, disappointed. Sighing, she wondered how she was going to spend the rest of her day. Dinya (who also disapproved of Calypso's . . . theories) was bustling about in the bedroom of the temple. She irritated Calypso often. The way she spoke down to her and preached to civilians rubbed Calypso the wrong way. She also never gave Calypso any important duties or fun assignments. It was always praying and cleaning, or helping out the weird lady who looked after all the dead people that were buried under the temple. She bored Calypso to tears. The only reason Calypso actually still stayed in the godsforsaken temple was the money and accommodation. She couldn't afford an inn, let alone a house. The temple was her salvation, and Mara was her saviour. And Calypso did like the goddess. She stood for things Calypso could support. Love and marriage. Two things Calypso wanted desperately.</s>
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Drusilla was dead, that was the thought that had been playing inside of Spike's head for the past few months, ever since he had arrived too late to save her from the insane ministrations of an insane human Inquisitor wanna-be. That Inquisitor had suffered immensely under Spikes hands, everything that Angelus had taught him all those years ago was brought to use as Spike made the man beg for death for days before leaving him a mewling and broken wreck... and then he had almost fallen apart himself.
He had been with Drusilla since the beginning, since his birth as Spike from the... human that he had once been. She had been with him every step of the way, delighting in his predisposition towards incredible violence and anarchy... the one who he had killed his first Slayer to impress though the second he had killed all for himself, just to show that he could do it. At his peak he had been perhaps the most feared vampire active on the planet, as older vampires became more introspective and fell towards plotting Spike went out of his way to cause trouble just for his own amusement and of course... because Dru had loved to noises that his victims made.
Now he was far from his peak though, feeling almost no direction at all he had fallen apart mentally, living in the slums of a European country that he couldn't name if he tried, feeding at random as the urges struck him rather than forming what would otherwise be called a 'healthy' feeding habit. Even his normally perfectly colored hair had started to show its roots... he had even considered meeting the sun because he felt lost and without purpose.
But before he could do anything, rumors reached him - word that the so-called Master had risen in a town in California, a town with a Hellmouth. Spike had only encountered the Master once, during a random whim of Dru's that took them on a long and rambling tour of the States in the early twentieth century... crossing the pass of the vampire who was the source of their own lineage. Spike had not been overly impressed by it, but had been smart enough to show enough respect to avoid being killed. The Master seemed more interested in summoning the Original Demons to the Earth rather than just enjoying the experiences the Earth held for them all, trying to bring the ride to an end in Spikes less than humble opinion. In truth, Spike cared little for meeting the older vampire ever again, but something like him walking the Earth would draw a Slayer, and Spike knew what to do with Slayers.
It was all so simple, it had struck him like a bolt of lightning. Dru might be gone, but he was still there, and she wouldn't be impressed by his moping around and drinking himself into a stupor every night. He was William THE FUCKING BLOODY, and he was going to get the hat trick by killing himself Slayer number three. Feeling filled with new purpose, Spike set out, fixing his hair, slaughtering his way out of the ghetto that he had found himself in, feeding on just about anyone that crossed his path... oh yes, he was back.
Unfortunately, his delay in finding himself meant that he was too late; by the time he reached the States, word was getting around that the Slayer was dead at the hands of the Master who had then fallen, rather pitifully, to a random crossbow bolt to the heart. The town of Sunnydale was still apparently terrified of vampires who practically had their run of the night, but there was a power vacuum with the Master gone and a Hellmouth drawing all sorts of crazies to it. Another Slayer would probably show up before too long, and Spike wanted to be there when it occurred. So he made his way across the states, driving like a madman to ensure that he got there before the other Slayer showed up and got herself killed by being an idiot. Before long, he was pulling up to Sunnydale, this town with a Hellmouth, something every vampire could feel, like an electrical current over the skin that made everything so much more real. With a grin on his face, he drove his car right through the sign that announced you were entering the town, parking just a few feet further on and climbing out with a sneer on his face, taking a deep breath in a town where even the air seemed charmed with dark power... it was a rush all its own.
The people of this town thought they had it bad before, but they had no idea at all what they were in for. Oh, this is going to be fun! He whispered to himself, looking about to see if there was anyone to eat nearby; he was starving after his long drive and the sooner he was able to eat, the better.
Spike left his car where it was still idling, only stopping long enough to grab a bottle of liquor from the passenger seat before setting off in the direction of the town proper. There would be fun to be had there.
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"Get it out of my sight," she commanded sotto voce but nonetheless demanded immediate compliance. Two male vampires rushed to do her bidding, hunched and cowed in a traditional and animalistic posture that denoted submissiveness. Neither one so much as attempted to glance at her. Pussies, the whole damn lot of them. Zander's maimed carcass was cast outside, where he would lie screaming for the dawn. Willow had known he was too weak to lead and he had swiftly accepted her as his personal alpha but there had been something familiar about him and that had been reassuring while she was winning the support of vampires centuries old in the pursuit of her new world order, well Sunnydale order. The world could wait... for now.
The factories that had been Zander's brainchild were burning to the ground. Willow preferred a more personal touch to feeding. Since Buffy had died at the hands of a half-crazed Angel, whom she herself had tortured beyond the point of madness, there was nothing to push against. Willow had returned the vampire class to the shadows but only because that was where the fun was to be had. There were no curfews now, no blood tithes. The people of Sunnydale could run their lives as they pleased but if they were fed from and/or killed they had no form of redress. Burning the draining factories and blood tithe stations had been enough of a sop to the human ruling elite. They weren't about to start splitting hairs if the town retained a rather high death toll, particularly amongst the young, strong and beautiful. Humanity adapted, as it always did and already blood banks were overflowing with volunteers. Donating regularly was an insurance policy against the unthinkable and many lives were saved by the hospital's sky-high - but nevertheless barely adequate - blood stocks. Willow was fine with that. Let them patch one another up only to be fed from - or worse - again and again. Let them feel like they were achieving something and scoring a point against adversity. Anyone who fell into the clutches of one of her followers would learn very quickly exactly how pointless human endeavour truly was against the might of immortal vampires with superhuman strength, speed, agility... and depravity. Humans' lives were fleeting; breeding and dying like vermin.
No human was to be turned without her express approval, since turning humans into the undead only increased competition in the long term. Any human who was turned had to already have been subjugated into the obedient slave of an existing vampire. They were tattooed about the throat with the name of their owner and that owner was responsible for keeping them in check. No single vampire could have more than three slaves, and Willow did not intend for the vampiric population of Sunnydale to increase beyond 30 percent of the human population - a population that had taken quite a recent dent. Walking happy meals had to be plentiful or the vampires would swiftly turn upon themselves, undoing her work and destroying her vision of the future.
Any vampire who trespassed on another's property had to forfeit their own slaves and in severe cases become in turn the property of Willow herself. Already it seemed as though she would never have enough of the most loyal acolytes to ensure her every command was carried out promptly. Her acolytes swiftly broke and bridled her acquisitions from inter-vampiric property disputes.
Willow received extravagant gifts and donations from the oldest vampire houses and even those who were privately skeptical of her paid monetary lip service while her dark star was ascending. One such gift was a mansion that now served as her base of operations. By human standards it was derelict but vampires preferred boarded windows and had no use for heating or other modern conveniences. The building was structurally sound, boasted extensive cellars and even a few very recently excavated oubliettes, while inside candles and oil lamps provided the kind of low lighting that vampires tolerated. The furniture was ornate and antique and if the fabrics were a little dusty and ragged, they served their purpose; appearing rich and sumptuous in the soft, flickering light.
Willow stalked up to her master bedroom, where a naked teenage girl was hunched in a corner, sobbing. Her minions had tenderized this one but it remained intact... internally as well as externally. Willow wasn't hungry but she was restless and she knew that this one would taste sweet, young and unsullied as it was. She took in the young blonde's slim curves and chuckled when she saw where a crucifix-shaped burn was seared into her dcolletage. Incredible what some people thought would protect them. Even now it was twisting its fingers pointlessly into a cross.
Willow crowded the girl into her corner and licked from the burn at her throat up to the salt of her tears. The girl's palpable fear caused Willow's face to transform, revealing her fangs. She ignored everything the girl said and did, lifting her slight form bodily from the hardwood floor and then slamming it down again, knocking the fight out of her.
"It's ok... I've fed tonight." She said reassuringly, before parting the girl's legs and pinning her thighs down with her considerable superior strength. "But there's always room for dessert." She admitted.
Willow sank her fangs into the girl's mound, not trying to feed but just to pull enough that it would be hard for her prey to dislodge her. Willow's tongue snaked out and flicked directly against the teenager's exposed mound, lashing over it ferociously and gripping her asscheeks while it bucked, fought and screamed.
She persevered until the screams cracked and became despairing, pitiful moans of capitulation and self-loathing. Grinning sadistically into the juicy little cunt she was devouring, Willow growled and picked up the pace further.</s>
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A lone figure sat in the dark of his basement laboratory, the only thing illuminating the area was the light of his computer monitor. On the monitor were several people dressed in elite fashion, business suits of the highest quality, some fine dresses, and some lab coats. They were all in video conference screens looking at only a shadowed figure. "Doctor," a woman began, "Is the serum you presented ready for sale yet?" The lone figure sat in silence for a moment thinking of what to say. Once the words were put together in his mind, he spoke. "Not yet," he said, his voice deep thanks to a voice modulator that was running. "I am still working out some minor details I need to work out on my newest test subject before it is ready." They all gave their own versions of threats about what would happen if he did not have it ready soon. It worried him little since he had enough money to keep him well secured. With that, he killed the video conference and stood up from his chair, turning on the lights revealing himself. He slicked back his silver hair (a result from one of his earliest chemistry experiments when he was an adolescent) to its normal style. He was Vergil Knight, the young hot shot CEO of Knight International, a chemical company that has supplied 85% of the world's chemical needs and even producing some of its own for sale. The company had three stellar quarters and was now the top company in its field. Vergil had managed to stay out of the spotlight since the company gained its fame, but the media was hell-bent on ending that, which was prevalent in this most recent event.
Speaking of which, it was time to wake up his new test subject. He caught her snooping around twenty minutes ago and simply snuck up on her with the green rock Luthor sent him and bashed her on the head with it. She was out like a light. Thinking of what to do with her, a lightbulb went off in his head. He needed a new live test subject to work out some of his new serum - what better choice than her?
With help from his lovely assistant, Dr. Tannis, he got her clothes off, and was surprised to see how big of a Superman fan she was. She had a full costume on underneath her clothes. He remembered scoffing at the idea, saying "Fan girls." He then strapped her into the injection machine, not yet putting the syringes in her. She was decent-looking, but this machine would make her more desirable in both appearance and personality.
Thinking that now was the best time to start, he waltzed over to where she was still strapped in and patted her cheek, saying, "Rise and shine, princess, time to start." While he waited for her to wake up, he picked up the green rock that his new friend Lex Luthor sent him. There were a few more colored rocks in the package, but he had this green one in his hands when the girl snuck in. He moved back over and read the note that came with it: "In case any one with an S on their chest gets in your way."
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The idea had been to do some stealthy sneaking. Sure, Kara could probably have burst into the lab, torn things apart, and revealed the evil scheme, but they didn't have enough information. The Batman had mentioned something about scoping out the area first, learning about the corporation and trying to uncover some details. Still, weeks had passed and the Batman hadn't gotten any further to actually giving the League anything resembling information. Sure, there had been that whole alien invasion thing and a few other details that cropped up first, but still, this was a frustration that bothered the League, Kara especially.
So the blonde took a page out of her cousin's book. She dressed in a sensible enough-looking pantsuit, stole Lois's press credentials, and sneaked into the facility, pretending to be an intern. True, interns don't usually look as impressive as Kara. Still, she was hoping that the large, thick glasses and slouching would help, as well as the baggy blue suit she wore over her much more revealing costume. None of that stopped her from getting her head bashed in. One moment, she'd been sneaking along, digging about in her pockets for the small camera she'd taken with her; the next, darkness. Even now, as Kara blinked away the oppressive darkness, she wasn't sure what was going on.
"Princess?" she repeated, her dazed mind latching onto a few words. She felt sick, physically ill, and far, far too weak. Kara shifted, trying to move her arms or legs. To her shock, she had been strapped down. Okay, being strapped wasn't that shocking for a super heroine. It was the fact that Kara's weak body couldn't break free of the confines that surprised the heroine. She struggled for a bit, her tanned muscles rippling with the effort. Nothing. Instead, the panting superheroine looked up at the man who spoke. Her blue eyes scanned him for a moment, and she seriously considered attempting her heat vision. Just as she was about to, however, Kara noticed what he held in his hand. The bound heroine moaned at the sight of the Kryptonite: a reflex action. His later words sank in, and the startled girl's eyes widened. He didn't know? She was a trim, attractive blonde with muscles rippling just about everywhere. Her tight blue half-shirt covered her impressive bust and most of her arms, but the brilliant yellow and red "S" should have been more revealing, at least to her identity. Then there was the short blue skirt and bright red boots. Hell, Karalookedlike Supergirl. How did he...
No matter; she'd have to bluff him. What was the standard line?
"You'll never get away with this!" she yelped, almost giggling at it. She might have, too, if not for the queasy feeling the rock gave her. "People know I'm here, and they'll be coming to get you any second!"
She struggled again, trying not to look desperate as she pulled against the bindings. That blasted kryptonite was making it far, far too difficult to break free...</s>
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Lucy Heartfilia sighed, hand to her chin. The dress she had on looked nice, but she wasn't sure if this plum colored one was better than the blue one hanging off to the side. There was some sort of fancy to-do tonight, and some of the members of Fairy Tail were invited. Her included. Erza of course, who was going with Jellal under the guise of Mystogan and apparently attributing his covered face with a deformity that none needed to see. Gray, but of course Juvia had insisted that she go with him. And of course Natsu had Lisanna, which left Lucy pretty much dateless.
Though there was one option left to her. But then again she had a feeling he might take this as meaning something it didn't. Still though, she didn't want to show up alone and get hit on by men much older than her. She laughed at the thought lightly. "I don't have much of a choice," she said to herself, pulling a familiar key out. "Gate of the Lion, I open thee!" she said, and waited on her Celestial Spirit to come forth to her. Though it was still hard to think of Loki that way, after all they had been through.
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Loki, the Lion celestial spirit, was sitting around with Aries and Scorpio. There wasn't much to do where they were. Scratch that, there was so much to do that none of these three knew what to do. Gemini were cloning themselves as Aquarius and bothering her to the point that she would have the water attack, and Gemini would copy it and those three would go back and forth at it. Taurus was gawking at Virgo not that she wasn't fat and was to the liking of Lucy. The others were out doing what they wished to do. Loki and the other two were bored and nothing was really going on. "Is this really what we'll be doing if Lucy doesn't call for us?" Loki asked the other two. Aries had scooted closer to him and was about to lean against him when a calling was heard. Scorpio got up hoping it was him, but was immediately shut down. Loki grinned. "My princess is calling me. Cancer is always up for more subjects, have fun." Loki said with a laugh. He stepped through the gate and appeared before Lucy.
Loki appeared in a black tuxedo and his arms open. "I have come to your call my princess! What can I do for you?" He said in an exaggerated tone.</s>
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Today was the beginning of the school year at Yokai Academy. Blake had been looking forward to classes starting, as he'd just transferred in. He had moved into his dorm the day before, just to make sure everything would go smoothly on the first day of classes. He was being brave, knowing he was surrounded by demons who cared little about humans.
The young man was handsome, with blue eyes and dark blonde hair that matched his looks perfectly. It would have made an excellent disguise. He'd decided to attend Yokai after being pen pals with a vampire girl who also attended. He expected to meet her today. However, she was running late, so he had to wait until tomorrow. Oh well. He completed the day of classes and returned to his dorm. All of his classes seemed relatively easy, but he would need to be careful around certain demons who were more aware than others. He didn't want to end up dead.
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Trees overhang the path, casting long shadows that would have been creepy if it wasn't for the fact that it was a given here at Yokai Academy. Underneath them a young woman stretched her arms high above her head, letting out a sleepy yawn as she rubbed at one of her eyes. It had been late the night before when she moved into her dormitory, making it where she barely had any time to sleep. At least she didn't really have to worry about the classes today. The beginning and the end of the year was always lenient and relaxed. No one bothered with teaching until the second week, maybe even the third. Maybe it was a good thing, being late That way, she missed out on all the boring lectures, all the silly rules each teacher expected everyone to remember. It was certainly a bonus in her eyes.
Oh no! she gasped. She found out what time it was with a watch, and she forced her feet to move faster. I'm going to be late! Again! Long midnight-black tresses flowed back with the movement, the short uniform skirt flirting with her shapely thighs. She was a beautiful young woman, what with rather exotic features and ever-present smile. Don't ever push her buttons however. Behind the smile was a hot temper that flared bright whenever the fuse was lit. There was no reining it in once it was at that point.
Quickly she ran into the room, panting slightly as she came to a stop. "I'm sorry I'm late," she told the teacher with a sheepish grin. A hand came up to idly tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The school uniform accentuated her full chest and wide hips, really showing off the model body she possessed with no effort on her part. "I'm Trinity Shadow."</s>
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"Roguegroaned, rising slowly to a semi-upright position. The gothic teenager's held felt tight, as though her brain had swelled and now threatened to push her skull out of her head. She raised a gloved hand to palm her face, lowering her head just slightly. She pinched shut her gray-green eyes, seeing spots in the dark vision. Rogue took several deep breaths, sucking in the cool, dry air and trying to calm herself. Still, a tremble shook her lean form, her body trying to catch up to what her mind kept telling her. It just didn't make any sense, what happened, and simply thinking only made her brain feel as though it would swell more.
The teenage mutant lowered her hand and pried open her eyes. Again spots swam in her vision, and Rogue blinked several times. 'Where th' hell am ah?' she wondered aloud, her eyes scanning. This certainly wasn't where she'd laid down: back in her bed at the mansion. That place had light colored walls lined with the posters of Kitty's favorite bands, not to mention Rogue's own bed. No, she wasn't home, not at the X-Mansion. Though she seemed to be wearing what she'd gone to sleep in: a long-sleeve shirt, dark green around her perky, apple-sized breasts, and a much lighter green as it worked out. She wore a pair of light gloves over her hands, having once slapped Kitty upon being awoken too rudely. The shirt did bare a slight expanse of Gothic white flesh, with abs hardened by hours of combat training. A pair of loose pajama pants, a darker green with little black skulls on them, covered Rogue's lower half. Yes, the Gothic beauty still wore what she'd slept in... except, something more.
"What th'..." she wondered, feeling at her neck. Something light and metallic circled there, pressing against her skin. Rogue ran her fingers along it, finding no catch or clasp. A collar; a choker; definitely. Rogue felt panic well for a moment, turning her guts to ice. She didn't need signs to tell what had happened: she'd been taken, abducted, with a collar slapped on her, and then left alone in the room. Wait... alone? Rogue looked about, and saw what she'd hoped not to see laying only a few feet away.
Katherine "Kitty" Pryde, a.k.a. Shadowcat lay sprawled out a few feet from Rogue, her arms and legs akimbo. The lithe teen was a year younger than Rogue, seventeen to eighteen, but they'd still managed something of an awkward friendship. Especially difficult given Kitty's eternally sunny disposition and Rogue's Gothic moodiness. Still, Rogue couldn't help but wince as she saw the pretty Jewish girl lying there. Kitty stirred as though brought awake by Rogue's gaze, shifting. She, too, wore her pajamas, though they bared more skin than Rogue's. A short pink shirt hung loose over the girl's petite body. It ended a little above Kitty's navel, showcasing the recent piercing the girl had gotten: a golden star of David that dangled from her belly button. A pair of matching pink shorts covered her body, leaving most of her lean legs on display.
"Uggh, what happened?" the shifter asked, rising up slowly herself.
"Not sure," replied Rogue, looking around. "We got teleported or somethin'. Looks like we have collars too."
"What?" That got Kitty's attention, her hands flying to her throat. The girl frowned as she too felt the metal encircling there. "Oh no, no way. We're getting out of here, like, now. C'mon."
Kitty rose to her feet, wobbling only for a moment. She hurried to grab Rogue's arm, careful not to get anywhere near bared skin. Then the energetic brunette dragged her Gothic friend toward the nearest wall. Kitty picked up pace as they drew closer and closer. Then, suddenly, she slammed into it, falling back on her butt with a little yelp of pain.
"What the heck?" asked Kitty, rubbing her rear. Rogue watched for a moment before looking to the wall. She ran her hand along it, frowning, then looked back at Kitty.
"That should have totally worked!" yelped Kitty, flinging her hands at the wall as though it had done that on purpose. "I was all like 'I'm gonna phase us right through' then whammo! Ouch," she winced as she rubbed her butt again, "my butt hurts."
"Quit ya whinin'," said Rogue. She slid her glove off and walked over to Kitty. Reaching down, the Gothic teen yanked her friend back to her feet.
"Hey! Careful there! I'm fragile and--and-- OH MY GAWD, ROGUE!" Kitty pointed at the other's free hand. "You're, like, like, did you just--"
"No, ah didn't steal ya dance moves or nothin'," mumbled Rogue. She frowned, looking at her hand. She flexed it a few times. "Nothin'," she muttered, then brought it up to run along her collar. "Kitty..."
"I can't believe this! It's just-- like, what the heck is ---"
"Kitty!"
"They're gonna find out! Who would be stupid enough to kidnap--Lance is gonna be--"
"Kitty!"
"Ugh, I just can't..."
A loud smack cut off Kitty's words, and the stunned girl looked at her friend, holding her cheek. Rogue nodded, then gestured to the collar, tapping it a few times, "Somebody slapped this on us an' took our powers away or somethin'. They planned this."
That made both girls stop, staring at each other. Who could manage something like that... and why? They swallowed hard, looking around the room. There didn't seem to be any entrances or exits, something both girls observed. Still, they searched as best they could, spending some time learning the nooks and crannies of the empty stone room. After a while, they had no other choice: they had to wait, wait and see who, or what, had done this.
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It had begun. The return of the ancient mutant who had been locked away for generations. At one point seemingly forgotten within the passage of time. A mutant who had made his return not so long ago, only to be thwarted by the combined efforts of numerous mutants with normally conflicting interests. But that was before. The great evil had since returned. Wiser now to his enemies. Smarter with his approach, as the legendarily infamous mutant once known as En Sabah Nur, now better known as Apocalypse, had started carrying out his revenge upon the mutants who managed to vanquish him once before.
But this was happening elsewhere. The initial attacks having been carried out systematically. Many missing, presumed captured or worse. Some had been reprogrammed and were visibly striking out against their former companions as his new Four Horsemen. Others, however, were missing without any known traces or signs of their whereabouts to X-Man or Brotherhood alumni alike. Two such figures were kept safely within a seemingly non-existent room. Accessible only to a lone figure, whose heavy footsteps filled the otherwise silent hallway which led to an unimposing wall.
Standing before said wall, the legendary mutant gazed upon the wall, a sudden light shimmering within those intense eyes, which evidently triggered a mechanism as the ominous blue outline of a formerly non-existent door formed upon the stone wall. With a brief shaking noise, the door slowly lowered into the very ground itself, while likely drawing the immediate attention of the pair of teenage mutants who were presently sealed away inside. The dim light on the other side of the now open doorway may have cloaked the identity of the person on the opposite end of the wall, but it would only take a step or two forward, heavy footfalls signaling this arrival, before both X-Men finally set sight upon their new 'host'.
Standing there, garbed in battle armor at present, Apocalypse would no doubt make for a rather disheartening sight to most mutants - whether or not they had access to their powers. Gazing upon the pair of females, the ancient mutant would allow a hint of amusement to mark his often stoic features, as the door behind him suddenly began closing following his entrance. For what was to come next, they need not run the risk of any unlikely interruptions.
"So," the male spoke, his voice deep and booming with authority befitting his legacy, while observing the pair of teenagers, "I see you've both finally awoken from your sudden trip to your new home." A short pause, almost as if letting the last few words linger within their thoughts for a moment or two, before continuing, "To answer the first question you're certain to have, the two of you were transported here using one of the many devices available to myself which had been lost to the ages. The very same type of technology which now stiffens your mutant abilities through the collars you wear around your necks."
Observing the pair, his eyes seemingly watching them like a predator would its prey, the ancient mutant further elaborated, "You were taken during the night. As part of my first wave of offense upon the mutants you call your friends. Whisked away from any physical danger right before the battle started. But also to keep you, in particular, out of the way."
His eyes were directed toward Rogue following the last bit; remembering how the pale-complexioned gothic teen had managed to disable his abilities after 'borrowing' the powers of another mutant. There was a touch of malice behind his tone, as the otherwise stoic figure contemplated his personal enjoyment of what would happen to her in particular before addressing the bigger question, "As for why you're here. I've need for you both. For I see within you two a great potential for my future plans for this world."
Slowly walking around the pair of teenagers, the imposing mutant wasn't even gazing directly toward them as he clarified, "No, you won't be reprogrammed into my Horsemen. Instead, I have far different plans for a couple of healthy, pretty, young mutants such as you both." Without any visible signs of trying to trigger something, both Rogue and Kitty would suddenly find two sets of formerly unseen holes open up near their legs, as glowing white metal tendrils would suddenly shoot out to wrap around their legs.
The tendrils kept the pair within their current place for now, as Apocalypse turned his head, watching the young X-Men, while plainly stating his intentions, "You two shall be the first of many breeders for my new world. Each used for carrying within yourselves the perfect offspring of selected mutant males whom will offer you their seed." The very idea of this was likely sickeningly terrifying for the teens, even while his as yet unspoken mind control began to make its subtle touches upon their impressionable young minds.
With their legs bound, the large figure was able to slowly step closer, narrowing the gap between them, while adding with a hint of personal enjoyment as he revealed to them both, "In your cases, you shall also be made to offer up your bodies, minds and very souls to the personal enjoyment and carnal pleasures of myself. From this day onward, until the very end of your formally insignificant lives."
Letting this added promise sink in for the girls, Apocalypse reached out with his large, powerful hand - clasping his fingers upon Rogue's bare chin, letting her feel what warmth there was within his cyborg body, while addressing both teens with a rather rhetorical, "Do you hold any reservations over this new arrangement?"</s>
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Nightwing had been stalking the city streets of Gotham for the past month. Word was that a recent string of break-ins and robberies were being committed by a group of men that had gone missing last month. The men had been good at covering their tracks and disabled security cameras before breaking into the places that they hit. However, the places they hit did have one thing in common - they were all chemical plants. What went missing were only small samples of various chemicals, but Nightwing was more concerned with the wellbeing of the men who went missing. Now he was following the group of twelve men from their latest theft. His black and dark blue armored uniform blended in with the night sky, giving him a chance to conceal his movements from above. The five foot ten inch tall man moved from roof to roof silently and without a trace. He watched as the group of men entered a small green house. His masked blue eyes narrowed as he reached for his grapple gun and swung across the line in a black and blue blur to the building and landed on the roof lightly. His black boots not making a sound. Creeping over to the center of the greenhouse, he knelt down and watched as the men set down their score in front of Poison Ivy.
Nightwing wasn't surprised due to the relation of the thieves; he strained to listen to the voice of the woman as she spoke. Not able to make out what she was saying, he reached into his gauntlet to withdraw a listening device as he did so, the glass under him started to crack. Before he could react, the glass gave way under his weight, being placed on the center of glass for too long, and he fell hard on his back behind the men dazed. The fall caused him to land on his left side and injure his shoulder before his head smacked into the ground. Dazed struggled to roll to his hand and knees. "Unnnghh... smooth hero..."
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It had never been hard for Ivy to convince men to do her bidding. Even without her chemicals, so many men aimed to please. Now, these were completely under her bidding, each hoping to have a chance to sleep with the gorgeous woman that stood before them. Chemicals laid out on the table, Pamela smiled, her long, silken red hair hung around her shoulders and over her chest. She was wearing her typical attire, a green leotard-like outfit, covered in greenery, though with plenty of cleavage. Her green boots went to just about her knees, green tights finishing the ensemble. Her green boots went to just about her knees, green tights finishing the ensemble.
The crash had startled her, though not completely. The glass was made to withstand very little body weight on a concentrated area, in case someone like Batman decided to drop in. And honestly, that had been her goal. The chemicals were nice, and certainly they'd allow her to do more manipulation on her plants, make them stronger, but the goal had been to lure Batman here. Instead, the boy wonder lay on her floor, looking rather pathetic at the moment.
The men made a movement to grab him, and Ivy let two of them snatch him, holding him up by his arms and wounded shoulder, showing little sympathy for the injured crusader. Ivy casually walked towards Dick, a smirk on her pretty red lips, swaying her hips from side to side, casually, "My my my what do we have here? Little pup lost his way?" She reached out with a gloved hand and gently traced her fingers along Dick's face, leaning in close, "Poor child can't have you listening in on all my secrets. Not the one I expected but you'll do. For now." She grinned, removing her hand suddenly and making a motion, "Take him inside, dose him with Borealis inside and leave him in my room. I have a feeling he won't be going anywhere."
Of course, Ivy's own home was typically pumping with different gasses, ones that helped her breathe and survive, but would potentially harm anyone unused to them. The plant he would be dosed with would allow him to survive longer, but would keep him in a daze and imprint a desire for her pheromones inside of him. It was quite an interesting little piece she had designed.</s>
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Selina Kyle awoke to find her mate lying beside her, still asleep. She smiled at his face, and gently kissed his cheek before getting up for the day. She moved silently, her footsteps just like her namesake, as she grabbed some clean underwear and then headed to the bathroom.
She turned on the water, and stuck her hand under the flow, waiting for the water to warm up, before she stepped into the shower. Once inside, she sighed as the hot water pounded away at sore muscles. After the last couple of days, she'd been thinking about talking to Bruce about going on a vacation, just the two of them. Somewhere hot and private.
She closed her eyes, and as the water cascaded down on her skin, she slid her own hand down between her legs.
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Bruce was looking at an attractive picture of his partner, Selina, as he was getting himself adjusted to the morning light that was brought by the sun.
Selina was so sexy in every way in Bruce's mind. He woke up finally, hearing pleasure-filled moans escape from the couple's bathroom. Bruce thought it best not to disturb his beloved while she was bathing. Instead, he focused his mind on the picture, or attempted to do so anyway... His mind faded back and forth, between the events that apparently took place in his dreams and the events that were currently presenting themselves. Selina desired pleasure, but Bruce, in his current state, could not provide her with it. Therefore, the ex-Catwoman resorted to the scene in the shower. Accepting this fact, the ex-Batman tried his best to relax and let the seductive picture that he held in his left hand fill his mind with lusty thoughts. Bruce soon meditated himself into a deep sleep. During the sleep, he experienced a "wet dream", probably from the thoughts that the photograph and current status of his beloved Selina induced. Regardless of the reason however, Bruce woke with the odd sensation of soaked underwear. He needed to change them. Seeing as how he was alone in the room and therefore, had privacy, the muscular man decided to strip himself bare and change into a new pair of underwear. Then, he re-clothed himself with the previously worn pajamas, for they were still dry. After this, Bruce felt the need to use the toilet within his bathroom, but decided to let his bladder suffer while he waited for his beloved Selina to finish bathing herself in the sure-to-be-warm water. Felines were not supposed to like bathing, but apparently Selina did.</s>
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Cammy White had been selected for this mission because she was the best that British Intelligence had. This was a one-man job (or in Cammy's case, a one-woman job), and they needed someone who was not only an expert marksman but also a fighter. Cammy had an arsenal of ass-kicking moves that could leave a trail of broken bodies; some people said her skills were deadlier than any handgun that the agency could provide. Guns made a noise. Cammy didn't - or at least, not when she was fighting. Her mission was to infiltrate an enemy fortress known as Shadaloo, run by an evil tyrant named General M. Bison and his army. It was going to be difficult, there was no denying that. Cammy had prepared herself both mentally and physically for what to expect, and she was an expert at solo missions. She didn't need anyone to watch her back; she was more than capable of looking out for herself. She had been dropped off a short distance away from the base, meaning she had to walk the rest of the way. In fact, it gave her some time to practice her skills as she happened upon a small guard post along the road, where two soldiers were standing having a chat, having no idea of who was watching them from the bushes. It was far too late, and it took only a matter of seconds for the petite woman to leap from the jungle and knock the pair out. She hoped the rest of the mission would be this easy...
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A bulky figure stood silhouetted in the glow of TV monitors. The fearsome Sagat glowered even fiercer than usual at the images flickering before him. He watched as a small, lithe, pigtailed girl made a mockery of his mercenaries - and it insulted him beyond measure. The casual, contemptuous way she disposed of them was irritating enough, but the fact she was a white girl made it all the more abhorrent to him.
He snarled like a chained dog, lips curling in a feral frustration. "I am risking a lot on this little stunt of yours, Bison, and I am not enjoying the show."
The hypnotic tones of Bison's voice sounded from the gloom. "Settle down, my old friend! This is just the titillation before the main feature. And when that beautiful creature is in our hands I promise you first go. On my honor." His broad face split in an ugly, oily smirk as his white teeth flashed in the dark.
Sagat looked back up at the monitors. He watched Cammy running right into their trap, her taunt body pumping with energy. "I want to fight her," he growled. "I want to beat her. I want to break her."
Leather creaked and silk rustled as Bison lent forward, eyes glowing with lustful intent. "This girl has humiliated me, and the pride of Shadaloo, far too many times. Now it is going to be her turn. When she enters the Citadel, you can be the welcoming party, and from there it will be our purpose to turn Cammy White into a mockery of a woman."
Sagat threw off his jacket and loosened his shoulders.
"She'll be through that last rabble soon enough. I had better get up there and prepare to greet her."
Cammy White
Bison and Sagat</s>
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"Hey kiddies! I just woke up to find my whole place INFESTED with Stinkhoppers! They are making a total mess of my attic and I'd be just sooooo grateful if Kenny could come over and take care of them for me. I have a whole batch of pies for him if he agrees! Let me know soon. Ta-ta!" Mom put down her phone and nodded with a smile. "All set! Now to make sure everything is ready...." Her home was in ways similar to her daughters Tree Fort. As impressive as the fort was, it severely lacked any form of maturity. Mom's home was also carved out of a massive tree, only her tree was intelligent, and could speak if you knew how to listen. Her furniture was carved right out of the tree's interior and padded with pillows and decorative blankets. Her whole place was one massive open area, separated by levels, silk curtains, and stairs. Her kitchen was right in the middle, carved into the core of the tree, and even featured a well stocked bar. With that Mom went about her business of tidying up her home. She was wearing a lovely orange summer dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. It ended midway up her bust, where two yellow straps went over her shoulders. Much of her ample cleavage was exposed, as well as her rich, well tanned skin. Anytime the light caught her dress one could easily see her figure through the thin fabric. She was mature in all the right ways, and youthful in the same. Her DD cups were still quite perky for her age, and her thick behind practically begged to be touched beneath her dress. She didn't mind, it made her feel young, and she was plenty attractive enough to pull the look off. At the moment her luscious platinum blonde hair was pulled back and tied up, but that was only because she was cleaning. Normally it hung free, straight down to her hips. She moved a number of pies from her massive oven onto a bar and surveyed the place with her big, green eyes. "Pies...check. Beverages....check..." She made a big batch of ice cold lemonade...with a moderate amount of alcohol mixed in. "...cleaning...check. Jizz-proofing on the furniture....check. Birth control....check!" Mom was ready in full, and very much looking forward to Kenny's visit.
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Bella was out of the Tree House for the moment, doing whatever it was that she did when she decided to not include Kenny in her escapades. He assumed anything, but for the moment he was entertaining himself with the thought that she was having a underwear swapping party with Princess Bubblegum. Not that he'd ever seen it, but he was sure they were doing it. Or something like that anyway.
His round shape was rolling down the floor from the kitchen down to the coach in the living room. He was fully intending to enjoy his cheese-bacon-captain Morgan crepe, almost hovering over head as he let it pass form one tentacle to the next, keeping it directly over his body as he rolled onwards and nothing was going to stop him. His half-way closed eyes spoke volumes. He was tired, and he had made plans for the day. He was going to enjoy himself with a snack, he would play some games, watch old films, and then he'd use the magic crystal ball to peek on the Lake Nymphs. Then something happened. The phone bleeped, and a message came up.
"Hey kiddies! I was just calling because I woke up today to find my whole place INFESTED with Stinkhoppers! They are making a total mess of my attic and I'd be just sooooo grateful if Kenny could come over and take care of them for me. I have a whole batch of pies for him if he agrees! Let me know soon. Ta-ta!"
Kenny stopped mid roll, causing some of the sloppy contents of his first chapter of his carefully planned slacker day to splash on the wooden floor in front of him. Kenny frowned hard. It was Mom. How the fuck was he going to say no to Mom of all people? His eyes glanced up to the crepe... Then to the phone with the promise of Mom's pies. He just knew deep in his small, black heart that there would be pie.Mom's fucking pie.
A mouth took shape seemingly just for the sake so that he could grit his teeth in a grimace. He rolled backwards again, keeping his snack above him just as before, then placed it on the counter in the kitchen.
"Next time, little one. Next time."
He rose up, still maintaining that ball-shaped body, but his 10 tentacles took the shape of a pair of running legs and small atrophied arms. He swung them part back and forth as he legged it to Mom's house. He was panting by the time he was there, and he kicked in the door.
"DON'T BE ALARMED MA'AM, PEST CONTROL IS HERE!" He had the biggest grin on his face, and now he had shaped his body into a big, muscular beefcake of a man. But he had his face, which was nothing more than a toothed mouth and two eyes, right below where a head should be. He kept his fists on his hips and looked around, expecting Mom to be just as happy to see him and ready to dispense of pie as usual.
Then he noticed the strange lining on all the furniture. "Huh. I think I've seen that before..."</s>
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Click clack... click clack... Alice felt the corners of her lips tug into a tiny smile as she roamed the all too quiet halls of Hatter Mansion. They were deathly quiet, though she knew such silence wouldn't last forever. It never would. It never did. At that, she let out a tiny puff of breath and tilted her head. Curious was the sensation as the air passed over her lips and the soft sigh rolled out of her mouth. Just then, her smile broadened. It made her wish that quiet moments such as this came more frequently. But sadly, her life was far from quiet and calm. She hadn't known such things since falling down the rabbit hole.
Alice almost laughed, a tiny burbling bubble working its way up her throat as she continued to walk down the hall seemingly alone. But was she alone? No. She hadn't truly been alone since venturing into Wonderland. Ah, but that was the truth of it all! She hadn't ventured anywhere! She'd been taken! Snatched up from her nap and whisked away to a chaotic world where nothing made sense yet everything... did. No. Nothing did. She wanted to go home!
Home? But what was home any more? What was there to go home to? Honestly, she was starting to wonder about that sometimes. Oh Peter, why did you bring me here? What was the purpose? And why do you...
Just then, Alice felt a sharp pang in her head. The pain settled behind her one eye, bold and sharp like a knife driving deeply into her skull. She let out a small groan and sighed as she raised her hand to push at her blonde hair, moving it aside so that she could rub at her one eye, at her temple. Finally, the pain eased and she felt slightly better. Smiling again, she continued her walk and relished the silence that wouldn't last, silence that probably wouldn't come again for a very long time.
Time. Just how much had truly passed? Alice had to wonder. But no matter. Things were as they'd become and she'd started to accept that. After all, in many ways, she had no choice. At least she was safe. For now. She just wished she understood the why of everything, but then maybe that was the purpose of her visit to Wonderland. Maybe that was why she was there and had to be there. Then again, sometimes... some things... were just unexplainable.
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He had to find her again. It was an obsession that was growing steadily within his ticking heart. She fascinated him unlike anyone else in Heart or Clover. Her heart beat changed while his remained the same regardless of his panting breaths or growing emotions. It was like catnip or music to his senses, that changing heartbeat of hers. Plus, it helped that she grew so flustered from his blatant advancements and words. As he walked between doorways in time, he come upon the door that linked to her room in Hatter Mansion, the one he desperately wanted to link to his own room but he would wait until she told him she was lonely. He wanted her to be lonely, to give in to him, but he had to be patient. He had to be. Cats were great yet terrible at being patient. Why was she at Hatter Mansion, anyways? Did she like that mafia lord so much? It bugged him. It made him jealous. He didn't like being jealous. He also didn't like knowing that despite Alice enjoying Wonderland, she wasn't fully committed to being here. To staying here. She still had some regret and some desperate want for home. He had to erase that...He had to keep her here...where he could be with her.
"Dammit, Alice..." Boris said, ears twitching with his growing unrest. Opening the door to one of the hallways in Hatter Mansion, Boris decided to check the place out. They couldn't stop him. Time was part of his job here after all. Tail swaying behind him as he walked, The Cheshire Cat known as Boris tried to figure out where his obsession had wandered off to. It was oddly quiet in the mansion, considering the idiot twins were usually ranting and raving and making obscene amounts of noise while Blood Dupre and his right hand were always talking about their next conquest and assassination. Where was the sleepy mouse anyways? Boris could use some more play time-- Ah! There she was. Boris blinked as he watched Alice, not quite making his presence known yet. She was...smiling. It made him blush as he watched the smile light up her face and yet he was jealous. She was probably thinking of some other man in Wonderland to have that smile on her face. He had to fix it!
"Alice!" He called out, coming out from where he was. He walked right up to her and cupped her chin, waiting for her to either pull away, blush, or be flustered at him. It was usually all three. "You were smiling. What were you thinking about? Was it Blood? You are living here and not with me, you know." He said almost accusatory as his ears lowered slightly and he gave her a glare, showing his jealously. He wanted Alice all to himself...he didn't want to lose that music.</s>
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The violet-haired high schooler took a deep breath and continued her kendo, wielding her wooden sword. The sun was setting, and she had taken off her white and green uniform to something more loose - a shorter skirt and tight, short-sleeved shirt. Saeko, who had been practicing for at least three hours, kept going as if her strength and stamina never diminished. Some dirt stuck to her ankles and cheeks, enough to be noticeable. The girl kept spinning and slicing at the dummy before her, unaware of anyone or anything near her. She was the type who you could say got "in the zone" easily.
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The young, busty blonde-haired woman watched from a distance as the tall, long, straight, and shiny purple-haired high school girl threw out her weapon to train. Her relatively long limbs gave her leverage for powerful sword swings that made Shizuka's eyes sparkle with admiration. Saeko was so strong-willed and very admirable. Shizuka's heart raced as she bit her lip and looked at her. Her hands shook as she slowly approached her, taking small steps. She then made a light gulping sound, wondering if she had already been caught. She wanted to get a better look at Saeko's form, and curiosity struck her now.</s>
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Prince S'chn T'gai Spock was irritated. Even if his face showed nothing but a cool, impassive mask; inside he was nearly seething with malice. His rival, Ston, had dared to challenge him to an a'woon battle. Of course the incompetent male had lost, Spock had barely found it a challenge to his skills to take down the other Vulcan.
Quickening his pace to the edge of propriety's limit, the crown prince rounded a corner, finding himself in the palace's lavish waiting room outside the main hall. His father had summoned him here, his father did not like to be kept waiting. Usually someone got flogged if the delay was long enough.
Pushing open the heavy wood doors, Spock strode into the room, his dark chocolate-colored eyes sweeping around the enclosure to clear it for threats. Noticing his father lounging in his throne, a slim silver chain held loosely in his hand brought a small amount of curiosity blooming to the surface of the half-Vulcan's mind, even more fascinating was the slim female attached to that chain sitting on the floor.
Approaching the throne of his father, Spock held out the customary salute, bowing his head respectfully to the elder Vulcan.
"Live long and prosper, father," he said. "You summoned me?"
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The elder man acknowledged his son with a nod; he'd seen the eyes flit over the female at his side. But the idea of this gift being given was bound to have a more profound effect. "Yes," he said, "I did. It has been brought to my attention that I have too many slaves to attend to, too many women that this latest addition is being gifted to you." His own chocolate eyes moved down the chain to the female form attached to the other end.
Indula had barely spoken to the man since she arrived. She answered questions when asked but offered no other information. She was the latest of gifts sent to other kingdoms, as a way to have them pledge their allegiance to Geniva 4. She wasn't sure where to call home truthfully and could offer nothing to that area. She sat with her legs folded beneath her on the floor, a simple grey shift swarmed her body but the fabric was almost sheer allowing her body to be seen.
Round breasts to fill an average males hand stood proud upon her chest, the darker nipples were peaked due to the cooler temperature of the room. Curious mint green eyes stared up at the younger male that entered, a bit of fear welled in them when she understood this was her new owner. Looking away her odd mix of dark blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and curtained her face off. Though the sight wrinkle of spiked bones that crested forward from her head only added to her beauty, it kept her from being entirely hidden. Her skin had a slight coppery tan sheen to it. Her mutt race mixture caused her origin to be questioned, though one could never deny that she wasn't a sight to behold.
The older man stood and guided the woman to her feet using her chain. She stood taller than most women at 5'10", but she was still not as tall as wither male. Her hands held the fabric at her sides as her eyes closed and reopened to focus on his face. She knew what was expected of her but still the sense of fear welled up, she didn't know what to expect. The man made her turn, her slight curves showing as she moved. Her hands held raised plates of bone as well, same as her head, though she wasnt trained to fight and would use them for such. Her chain was handed off and she held her breath.
Speak your name girl! The order came in short and clipped.
I am Indula of Geniva 4, She spoke soft but clear. I am a gift to earn your favor. She wished to say more, but to beg her new master for his kindness would fall on what she thought would be deaf ears.</s>
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Dimitra walked around the slave cells before the auction, looking at the Utes over to find someone who sparked her interest. Most were humans or half-humans, which bored her. She preferred the more exotic. Being a dragon shaman/adept, she was exotic herself. Being a drow among the base nobility made her even more so.
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Natu Running Deer shivered naked in the cold. How she got here was unclear. As was where HERE was. She had been walking the streets of her small city, getting to know the local spirits when pain exploded in her head. Now she was in a strange place with her sex exposed to the world. She was lithe, small-breasted and tall. Amber eyes and silver hair rounded out her fine features. She was half Ute and half Sidhe. But more exotic was the large penis hanging between her legs with her womanhood.</s>
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Timothy had never even seen a night elf, but oh had he heard the stories about their women! While mopping floors and washing mugs at The Gilded Rose, the fourteen year old had heard things that never should have reached the ears of a child his age. Fortunately, the young lad had not understood much of the sexual slang used by the salty sailors who drank there, but it had certainly piqued his interest! Enough so that he began saving up his money for the journey that he was dreaming to make...
And now, there he was, standing at the gates of Darnassus! The scrawny youth ran a hand through his short blonde hair as his bright blue eyes gazed at the surroundings. "It's so different from Stormwind!" he thought to himself as he began wandering the streets, but it wasn't long before his gaze would shift from the architecture to the curvaceous bodies of the women going about their business in the city. "I wonder where are all the men?" he asked out loud as he quickly noticed there were none to be found.
The human boy had little time to ponder this question as he felt a sharp tug on his arm, pulling him into a building before anyone else noticed his presence. He was the only human in the entire city, as well as the only male, which made him a very valuable "guest".
Timothy gasped as he was pulled into the building, the door of which was quickly closed behind him. His shock turned to awe as he marveled at the marbled opulence of the interior, filled with statues and paintings of night elf women clad in little to leave to the imagination. Though he thought it strange that the building's exterior was rather nondescript.
"Welcome to the Gilded Thighs," a voice spoke out from behind him. Timothy immediately whirled around to face the one who had grabbed him, a figure clad in a hooded robe. "This is a brothel. You do know what a brothel is, right dearie?"
A wide grin formed on Timothy's face as he nodded his head yes. It was the place he had been searching for!
"Come, dearie, I have many girls who would be interested in meeting you," the robed figure told him as she put an arm around his shoulders and began leading him into a room.
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If Timothy thought the entranceway grand then the room Erenia led him into would be another shock. While the spacious common area of the pleasure den lacked the statues and paintings that decorated that first room it did contain what many would consider a much more pleasing sight. The chamber was no less opulent than the entrance with piles of downy pillows embroidered in mithril and gold spread over the floor and no less sexualized with the dozen odd Night Elves reclining upon them, all of them shapely women.
Heads turned and glowing eyes widened as the young man entered. With so many males adventuring away from Darnassus or wandering the emerald dream and the lack of tourism to Darnassus the sight of any man was a rare one. The women in the brothel had gotten the money they needed on a small but steady stream of female customers and the infrequent visits of sailors and the occasional alliance defence force but while they could keep their pockets heavy enough to satisfy their lifestyles the time that passed between those highly anticipated visits left many of them wishing for the very thing that had brought them to this profession in the first place.
Put simply, the women of the Gilded Thighs wanted men, and they wanted them bad.
That Timothy was far more a boy than a man made little difference to them and it was only the sharp look that Erenia swept across the room and their own patience and willpower that held them back from mobbing him all at once. The room was dead silent as not one of the women dared move a muscle until a sudden movement drew attention. From behind a dusky-purple girl a lighter skinned night Elf woman with teal hair moved into view, her yellow eyes fixing Timothy in their gaze as she rose and stepped forwards. Unlike the other girls who wore 'clothing' that left their breasts bared for all to see and enhanced their already inhuman curves this woman covered herself with a veil, concealing her face and body beneath silken cloth that shifted with her movements, hinting at her curves without ever truly showing them, enticing without baring all for everyone to see.
Erenia frowned, as did several of the other girls. She alone knew the woman that lay behind those veils but all the women looking on were equally perplexed. Tyrande Whisperwind was better known to those who ventured within the Gilded thighs as 'Yanara' and she was widely considered one of the best whores the house had to offer while simultaneously being notoriously picky with those she chose to take into her room. To see her reveal herself so was quite unusual in and of itself alone.</s>
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The sweet scent of blood and death permeated the air. Nathar breathed in and smiled. The burned and broken remains of the village lay scattered about him and he looked around at the devastation proudly. Blood dripped from his daemonic right hand, the iron claws slick with the fluid. Blood spattered his uniform and his face. He licked it off the corners of his lips and closed his eyes, savoring it.
"Men," He barked, walking over the corpses of the men and women he had slaughtered, their flesh squelching under his boot. "Good work here today." His men (and women), numbering some thirty in all, cheered. Some of them were all human in appearance, while the worst was nothing more than a pulsating mass of fangs, tentacles and claws, mutated beyond recognition by the whim of their God. They were all devotees of the Lord of Rage, all former servants of the False Emperor, who had seen the light and forsaken the twisted laws of that vile edifice. He was proud of them.
This village had failed to see that light. They had still worshipped the False Emperor, even after Nathar had ripped the skin off of their priest and sent it to them as a peace offering. They had paid for their insolence with their lives. They had come at noon and surrounded the village. Then the massacre had begun.
Most of his soldiers were enjoying the spoils of battle, feasting on the corpses of the hapless villagers. A few used them for release. Nathar allowed them this small breach of discipline. They had earned it. They had shown no mercy, not to the babe in arms, not to the eldest grandmother; all their blood had flown freely.
He walked up to the Imperial shrine, now broken and shattered. He smiled, knowing that his God would be well pleased with the offering made him today. But it was not enough. Tomorrow, they would strike the clan of Hoarfrost, not five leagues from here. Surely, the word of this massacre would spread and the warriors of the clan would be ready. There may even be some PDF members stationed with them. All the better. Any true devotee of Khorne enjoyed a challenge. They would be a worthy offering for Khorne.
Nathar smiled, envisioning the slaughter they would enact. It will be a beautiful day.
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The psychic scream that echoed from the feral world was not left unnoticed by the Inquisition, in fact they had been monitoring the planet for months in suspicion of potential Chaos cult activity. Using intelligence reports from the scouts they sent, the Inquisition triangulated the position of the village that was destroyed to any nearby settlement, confirming that the cultists' next target would be Hoarfrost, a relatively larger village with a contingent of PDF. These guards would surely offer no resistance to the marauders, so the Inquisition's answer was to send out a kill team tasked with eliminating the Chaos threat. Inquisitor Ivy of the Ordo Malleus was tasked with taking charge of the village and its available men at arms, accompanied by a squad of Imperial Guardsmen seconded on this special assignment.
Inquisitor Ivy geared up and recited her rites as she prepared for departure. After reciting her rites in her private convent, she boarded the shuttle along with the Guardsmen squad. While inside the shuttle, the guardsmen with all their resolve tried not to be tempted at the sight of Inquisitor Ivy, for her gear featured less modesty. The guardsmen didn't even want to think about it, knowing that the Inquisitor could read their minds, and if she caught even the slightest thought about her feminity, she would surely flay them alive.
Upon arriving in the said village, Inquisitor Ivy made no time in sitting down and relaxing, she overseered all of the PDFs and increased their patrols on the walls and intensified the nightwatch patrol. She spoke to some survivors from the village that was recently destroyed and interrogated them about the chaos cultists and their alignment, the survivors told her that the cultists ravaged the village horrendously and taking enjoyment on the killing, they also said that the one leading them wore a guardsmen uniform and featured a mutated body. From this information, Ivy ruled out that the cultists were khornate aligned chaos minions.
As Ivy is checking parts of the village, she did not know that she is being observed by a chaos cultist disguised as a servitor, he looked like a bald old man with mechanical appendages and gear on his back, his face looked greasy and with thick long mustache, hell, his facial appearance could be mistaken for a White Scar Astarte.
The cultist spy used his ocular goggles to see through Ivy's apparel, he sees Ivy's pristine flesh and her soft knicker that covered her womanhood, going further, he looks through her panty and sees her prized flesh, he is observing Ivy's body in 3 different viewing screens, one is with clothing, second is only with the underwear and third is completely naked. The cultist spy recorded all the alluring beauty that he has seen from the Inquisitor and heads out of the village via secret tunnel located on the dump site of the village to submit his voyeur report to Nathar to alert him that this woman poses a significant threat on his conquest.</s>
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It was a dark and cold night in Gotham, it had just rained so fog had set over the city. People were home in their beds unaware of what was going on down below in the bowels of the city. Young Lynx was making her way down an alleyway after just slaughtering some thug who was trying to take her money. She was no normal girl; she had the power to control the elements as well as metal claws and flesh that healed at once. She was a small girl about 5'4 1/2 only weighing about 120lb.
She had long blonde hair that fell down between her shoulder blades in a long braid, her eyes were dark brown with cat-like, slitted pupils. She also had canine teeth that stuck out of her mouth depending if she was angry or not. Right now she was walking in the dark wearing her leather jacket, blue Union Jack shirt, a pair of jeans and a red pair of Converse high tops. She suddenly stopped at the end of the alleyway seeing the end had been blocked.
Lynx looked around her, her eyes scanning the darkness for danger. Ever since she had left the pub she was staying at, she had sensed someone was following her. She sniffed the air now, her mouth turned into a snarl and she let out a low growl looking around her. Suddenly she felt a heavy net land on her pinning her to the ground. She growled again only to let out a pained snarl when a goon plunged a pole through her stomach pinning her to the ground.
"Got her like you wanted boss," he yelled staring down at Lynx then someone in the shadows. "Get the fuck off of me right now!" Lynx growled and slammed the goon into a wall using a fireball. She suddenly felt a jab in her neck, a drug hit her instantly weakening her. Once whoever had captured her put a certain collar around her neck, Lynx was owned by them.
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An audible clapping echoed around the downed woman, and from the darkness came a man in a purple suit with a wicked white face and red grin. "Now now now...don't put this kitty down boys. Just make sure she gets a flea bath," he said, sticking his foot into her body a few times with hard kicks. Then suddenly he stopped and dropped to his hands and knees just a few inches from her face. "I have been keeping my eye on you. Ever since Harley left...well I haven't felt the same. I need a woman in my life and you will do just fine." He licked the side of her face through the net and snapped his fingers, calling his thugs to pick her body up and dump it in the back of an ice-cream truck and take off down the road.
Once at his "laugh factory" hideout, the Joker stuck another needle in her neck to keep her subdued while his men dragged her around in the net. The entire time, his hungry red eyes kept locked on her. His hands rubbed together while the "gears" in his head turned. The Joker had been working with Scarecrow gas and Joker Venom to make a new drug that would be administered from a collar he had set up for the woman. It should make her very compliant with his demands. Stopping the men in front of the Joker strapped the woman to a medical table and walked off to prep for other things, leaving just Lynx and the Joker.
The Joker dug around under the table until he found the reversed spiked collar. "Now kitty, try to understand. We do this because we love you. And this will hurt you more than it will hurt us," he joked before forcing the thin spikes into the sides of her neck and making sure the collar was secured. The moment the clasps connected, the venom went to her bloodstream, and the Joker sat on her hips while she was stuck to the table. "Now....how do we feel?"</s>
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The war was finally over. Three years of fighting, suffering, all over. Commander Shepard barely made it out alive along with her friends. They lost and gained many friends through their journey on the Normandy, but for Shepard, Garrus was her best friend. He was there when Kadian broke her heart. There when she truly needed someone to fight Saren, the Collectors, Cerberus, and finally the Reapers. She couldn't ask for a better friend. Even now, while living in the apartments of the rebuilding Citadel, she sees him every day. He's always there and of course, her best friend.
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Garrus was more or less trapped on the Citadel as the Mass Relays were rebuilt and repaired. Which was fine with him, he had a big promotion waiting for him back on Palaven and he was glad to drag his feet when it came to going home. Promotions meant paperwork; and Garrus certainly didn't want to spend his fighting years behind some desk playing with politicians. But the Citadel wasn't that bad of a place to be, especially since Shepard was here: the company was nice, the view was even better. Even though she was soft, squishy, and so...alien, Garrus felt himself drawn to her. It was hard for him to deny that he had feelings for the human any longer. She had almost died when activating the Crucible...and he had been too worried about ruining their friendship to tell her that he loved her...he wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He had lost her to Kaidan, lost her to the Collectors, had almost lost her to the Reapers. And now she was famous with suitors following her around all over the place! He needed to do something, and fast. So he had invited her over for dinner and to watch the Skyball game. Hopefully a little alcohol would make him brave enough to make a move on her this time.</s>
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Eliana Silverstein was in a good mood, a very good mood, she got to go hunting with her boyfriend tonight. Word had it that some vampires were breaking the law, feeding on humans, and rumors were also floating around that a coven, or as she liked to call them "the minority that makes the majority look bad," were planning on...well, nobody really knew, but something had to be done to rescue them, so naturally, the Clave sent her and her boyfriend to solve the problem.
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The best thing about hunting wasn't the actual thrill of the chase, or even of the kill for that matter. No, thought Vincent Archambault. Though hunting certainly had its perks - the rush, the job well done - The best thing about hunting was the post-hunt roll in the hay. So when the Clave sent him and his girlfriend, the lovely and talented Eliana, to a supposed coven to take out its supposed vampire inhabitants, he was there in a heartbeat. "You womenfolk sure take your time getting ready," he said to Eliana as he climbed in through her window.</s>
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It was storming that day that he came to D-City. Heavy rains. Lightning storms. Not even any ghosts were out and about. Though one curious bolt of lightning hit the ground hard just a few moments away from the church. It lasted for several seconds rather than a half second like lightning normally did. And in the aftermath, a young man stood, looking determined as he looked toward the church. Making his way there, he readjusted his gloves as he approached the front doors, and began to knock on it.
He was sent there to keep an eye on two angels that had less than admirable actions taking place on Earth. They were there to hunt ghosts but they were abusing their position and were not sending a good image of angels to the rest of D-City. He knocked harder...and harder. He grew annoyed that Garterbelt would not hear him. He was about to knock again until he heard something laughing. "Chuck chuck chuck chuck". He looked down to see...this green looking dog-like doll laughing. He grew annoyed...temper rising and he picked up the creature and balled his fist before punching the door hard, breaking them down and causing Chuck to become split in half from the impact. He knew of Chuck and his regenerating powers and often hated the vile creature.
Walking in, he looked around. Empty. Not even Garterbelt? Where was he? A small cry came from his room. "G-Get! Aaaah!" He just barely moved out the way to see a young redhaired boy run out into the rain as Garterbelt descended a flight of stairs. "Bout time. Them angels need an ass kicking or two!" He said boomingly as he headed out into the rain after Brief. Glove sighed...and proceeded upstairs. "Angels Stocking and Panty! Present yourselves!"
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Panty opened her eyes begrudgingly as she was prodded in the ribs by her younger sister's finger.
"Get up ho-bag, someone's yelling at us and its not Garter for a change." Stocking mumbled in her normal grim tone. Her hair was in a toss and her face was as unglamourous as un-glamour can be for Stocking. Though she still managed to have a certain cuteness to her that not even morning sleep in your eye could stop that.
"Do you have any fucking idea what time it is?" Panty snorted, her face barely coming from the pillow.
"11am." Stocking replied "And come on I'm not gonna face this new Douchebag by myself, he's probably one of your old hook-ups looking for his wallet."
"Jesus, it's not even happy hour yet!?" Panty barked "Why the fuck are you waking me up. Go see what he wants and fill me in when my blood is more blood than alcohol."
"Fine, you cunt but you oh me." Stocking crossed her way to the door "Oh, drink honey, it thickens up your blood."
"Ew, and get cottage cheese thighs like you no thanks." Panty replied flopping back into her comfy spot.
"I was just trying to help asswipe, no reason to be a bitch about it." Stocking yelled, slamming the door and leaving to the stares. Her older sister was the assiest of assholes in heaven and Stocking met Gabriel. She honestly deserved to be on Earth. Stocking didn't really do that much in heaven, why is she banned? Guilty by association she guessed.
Stocking turned the corner and saw the angel below. Her eyes widened as she quickly fell head over heals for this sexy angel.
"Oh hot damn," she whispered to herself, briefly grooming herself in nearby reflective picture frame "Can I help you with anything, sweety?"
Her voice was thick with sugar coating, not undoubtedly like her pancreas. But there was an underlying sincerity to her tone... very underlying but it was definitely there.</s>
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It was September and Serena was walking home with her friends Mina, Lita, Amy, and Rei, as well as her twin sister Krystal. Krystal was dating Marik Ishtar and Serena's boyfriend Darien Shields was supposed to meet them for a senshi meeting after school. Things were getting very suspicious, but Serena tried to ignore it. She didn't want anything messing up her lovely view of the world at the moment. What grand things being 14 and in love could do for a girl's confidence!
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Krystal walked with her sister and their friends to Rei's house, where they usually held their study group and senshi meetings. She sensed something following her, but ignored it, knowing full well it was probably just Marik. He loved following her around discretely in the shadows. "Guys, can we stop at the penthouse? I gotta get out of this stuffy uniform," she squirmed a little as she said it, scratching her neck, looking annoyed.
"Tell me again why Japanese schools require uniforms?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "Rah, it makes me miss Texas."
She went up to her penthouse, returning quickly in a dark blue T-shirt with a cropped leather jacket and matching pants, short heeled booties, studded leather belts in black and blue, one with her deck attached and Duel Disc on her right arm just in case.
"Much better," she said with an easy smile as Marik came up behind her, hugging her close and kissing her neck.
"Hello, Marikins," she said with another smile as she kissed him softly.</s>
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Hermione Granger, sixth-year Gryffindor prefect at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was doing what she always did - studying. Of course, she had the best grades in her class, but she refused to let her brilliance go to her head. Right now, she was working on a spell that would allow her to cram all of her books and supplies into her bag, and one that would make the bag itself lightweight so that with everything in it, nothing would be too heavy. She had her bag on the table in front of her, along with her supplies next to it, and pointed her wand at her empty bag, beginning to chant... Suddenly, the lights started to flicker, the ground began to shake...
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A crack appeared in the floor of the unused classroom. Then another, and another...the cracks seemed to glow with an unearthly green light. Then the ground seemed to give way, revealing a yawning chasm that seemed to be filled with that very same light. After only a moment's pause, however, something began to float out of the hole.
The figure before her vaguely resembled a man, if men had skin as black as asphalt, with legs that were jointed like a dog's, and razor-sharp claws on both his fingers and his toes. On his head he wore what looked like an over-sized goat's skull, from the back of which protruded long, tentacle-like hair. Other than that, he was completely nude, and as he crouched on the now-intact ground she could see the tip of his semi-flaccid cock was nearly touching the floor.
For a long moment he said nothing, did nothing but cock his head to one side as he stared at Hermione as if he were looking at a particularly interesting moth. Then she could hear a voice in her head, a strange, echoing tone that seemed to come from every direction at once:
Hermione Granger...</s>
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It had been a long day for Kate Beckinsale. She had many friends over enjoying her company at her mansion, soaking in the pool and eating what food was on offer. Maybe even some stars had turned up in their bikinis and had a fabulous time before leaving late in the evening.
It was around 6pm now and the crowd of people became much smaller, only closer friends staying. Kate walked through the back door and into her home, leaving wet footprints behind her. Wearing an orange bikini that showcased her delightful figure, she made her way to the basement where her wine was stacked. Walking down the stairs, she opened the door and found herself in a maze of bottles, hundreds at least. Going through each section, she finally found something to her liking and picked it up. Looking up at the ceiling, she could hear laughter that made her smile. It had been a good day; everyone enjoyed themselves and didn't have any complaints.
Scratching the back of her head, Kate attempted to make her way upstairs and back to the party before she heard a noise. Squinting her face in confusion, she closed the basement door and turned the corner in to a hallway instead of going back outside.
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A lean, quick-limbed man intent on a target slipped through the mansion's white rooms, seeking prey. He had been watching outside for hours, ready for the right moment. Now his instincts told him that moment was approaching. Lurking with caution, he hid outside first, gauging the atmosphere. Security was lax with the convivial mood and he slipped in through a side door, face obscured for any cameras.
The afternoon heat still hung in the house, even as twilight quickly approached, and sweat prickled across his skin. From an interior balcony he was able to study the remaining guests - and the woman he had come to snatch. For a moment he was almost frozen by the sight of her firm frame parading below him.
He waited patiently, minutes oozing by like hours. Finally he saw her come inside from the pool, and his tensed muscles surged into action. Somewhere distant the babble of contented laughter and voices was rippling down, but the house itself was silent save for the padding of her feet. He drew as close as he could behind her, listening to the rattle of bottles, and drawing out his taser. It made a small click as it fired into life, and he shuffled back quickly into an alcove as the curious Kate came in investigate. As she stepped cautiously into the dark of the hallway, he lept out and jabbed her in the back of her neck with the taser, putting her out quickly with a sharp savage jolt.
Wasting no time, he threw her wet and supple body over his shoulder, escaping quickly from the house. The upstairs occupants were so oblivious he even walked right out the front door, unnoticed by anyone. He moved down the path to his plain white GMC van, dumping his captive in the back. Every sound and movement seemed utterly amplified in his excitement and paranoia.
He bound and gagged her with duct tape as she groggily started to come around, forcing him to administer another painful shock to put her back out. With a triumphant slap on her rock-hard ass, he slammed the van doors and practically ran into the driver's seat. Firing up the coughing engine, he and the kidnapped Kate rolled off into the night, and he finally allowed himself a wicked laugh of delight.</s>
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Treno was probably the worst place to be if you were the best sort of people, but thankfully...none of those people really frequented it very much. It was the city that never slept in a kingdom that had a curfew, it was the place that dreams were made of if you had luck and a lot of gil. It was a place where you could get anything you wanted if you knew the right people and had a good price on hand. More commonly, however...it was known for its casinos that attracted people far and wide. Lionel liked to pretend it didn't exist, but it usually seemed fairly interested when it seemed to be getting a generous helping from the taxes. There was not a day that went by that Treno didn't have dusty and worn travelers from all over the globe trying to get lucky, and generally failing. Yet people hoped against hope that they would be the one to strike it lucky...not that it ever happened. It was a plan shared between two Al-Behd brothers, Sabi and Ezen. Both of them looking a little more dispirited than usual. Sabi was the younger, although it was hard to tell from first glance as they both seemed to look about the same. If it weren't for Sabi's hair cut short and Ezen's settled in a long braid, they'd have been unrecognizable twins...barring their clothes, of course.
"Well, that's it..." Sabi replied dryly, fingers drumming on the glass table. A fine aldgoat leather jacket settled against his chair as he leaned back with a weary sigh. "We made five hundred gil...out of the three thousand we spent."
"Not very good odds," Ezen admitted, reclining back with his drink. It was a stupid plan, but they both knew they had nothing else to rely on. Which is probably why they were too busy sulking to really think of anything better.
"Not even a quarter of what we owe, either...what are we gonna do, big brother?" he sighed, hands behind his head with a frown. What could they do? Not much...as it stood, they were nowhere near what they needed to actually pay off the debt. Not that the three thousand would have helped much anyway.
"I don't know, Sabi...drink more?" Ezen shrugged, taking another drink. He had no idea what to tell him, and that bugged him even more since Ezen was the one who suggested it in the first place. The mercenary business wasn't exactly as smooth as it needed to be, and in Bikanel...well, they were better off just not trying.
So they decided to try their luck at Lionel, by way of Treno. For all the good that had done both of them. But hey, Sabi was good with his fists...and he had a gun, how hard could it be for young, strapping men to find work?
"...We're dead, aren't we?" Sabi replied, and eventually Ezen sighed.
"...Probably?"
Well, it wasn't as if their mood was anything new in Treno. Most people seemed a little down lately, aimless almost. Lots of idiots like them got down on their luck and hoped to make it big on some huge score.
Maybe luck was leaving Treno for brighter pastures, if there was even such a thing?
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There were not two others in all of Treno that looked as out of place as the pair standing in the courtyard beyond the main gates. One was tall and willowy, her long white ears and the stilettos common to her race only added to her height. Her crimson eyes could be quite unsettling to those who had yet to lay eyes on a Veira more so than her actual appearance at times. She was dressed in almost black leather armor sculpted to fit her lithe shape by the leatherworking guild in Girdania, though the Veira were not known for their modesty due to a lack of male presence in their culture. Her outfit could be considered more revealing than those of the women selling their services throughout Treno. The large oak bow slung across her back did little to detract from her appearance. She seemed entirely oblivious to the stares she received as she scanned the dusty flagstone streets.
In comparison, her companion was the complete opposite. Almost two heads shorter than the willowy Veira, this young woman sported feline-like ears and a long swishing tail. Her hair was cropped to the shoulder and the same inky black as the fur on her tail and ears. She stared at everything around her with vibrant amethyst eyes, much like an excited child upon first discovering something new. The Moon Keeper Miqote was easily excited by new things, and her desire to learn led her to practice one of the most difficult magical arts in all the realms. No one would guess looking at the petite but curvy feline that she was in fact a Summoner from Gridania. Her robes were simple linen, dyed a shade of purple to match her eyes, and she carried what appeared to be a large tome on her hip. The only indication of her abilities was a symbol sewn onto the left sleeve of her robes.
Miah was practically bouncing on the spot, her tail flicking with excitement. Gywn, look at this place! She exclaimed, leaning over the stone banister that encased the upper courtyard of the city, giving a wonderful view of Treno. It's so different from home! The Miqote had a soft, subtle purr to her voice when she spoke.
Gywn, her Veira companion pulled her away from the banister with an admonishing look. We came here for a reason, did we not? Her voice was clear, with a musical sound to it. You have dragged me away from the forests chasing nightmares to this place. She gave a pair of oogling men a distasteful look.
Miah was already trotting off down the steps towards the main city with an idle flap of her hand. I just want to explore a little. She told her long-time friend. What's a gambling house? Her attention already diverted before they reached the first intersection. Before Gwyn could stop her, she pushed through the doors into a sprawling room filled with tables and men enjoying their games and their drinks. Gwyn took a firm hold of Miahs collar. We are going now. She declared, turning to drag her friend away. She stopped when she felt Miahs entire body tense up and a soft growl escape her lips. Immediately after, she felt something ripple through the city, it had a dark, putrid feel to it like stepping into a swamp of tainted water and muck.
"What was that?" She asked, nudging her tense friend when she didn't immediately get a response.
The look on Miah's face was a mix of pain, fear, and anger. The combination sent a shiver up Gywn's spine. "I think the nightmare has arrived." Miah practically hissed.</s>
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It was a large, dilapidated building that looked as if it were close to collapsing at any moment. It was old, crumbling and smelly. For Severus Snape, however, it brought back fond memories of finally finding a home. Adderstrike, a collection of abused people from all walks of life - wizards, Muggles, squibs, even a few magical creatures here and there. Adderstrike had been Severus's home while he was going to Hogwarts, and they had trained him in the arts of Potions and spying. It was here in this old, dilapidated crap hole that he had become the man he was with the skills he needed to stay alive. All children, no matter their age, were trained well by the Adderstrike 'elders', and were ruled by a 'King' who was always young and healthy, and always magical. The King was always chosen by 'The Father' or rather, the previous King, to make sure that the King in command of Adderstrike was always fair and compassionate. When Snape was a child, the King had been Roland. He wondered how the man was now? Was he still alive? Or had he passed on? Sev would know soon enough. No one speaks when we go in, and do not meet the King's eyes. He will take it as a challenge to his position and he WILL immediately attempt, and probably succeed, to kill you. Snape warned, his voice calm. He himself was safe, he was Adderstrike, and many of the others in the building would recognize him and know that he was one of them. Once an Adderstrike, always and forever, and they looked out for their own. Betrayal was never an issue, loyalty to Adderstrike was like loyalty to a much loved father. He stepped forward and knocked on the door, grimacing as it nearly crumbled under his fist. The door was snapped open immediately, and on the other side was a glowering teenager.
What chu want?! the boy demanded, fingering the handle of his pistol, Snape setting his hand over his heart and bowing to the boy. The Strike of the Adder is Swift... that startled the boy and then he grinned, revealing rotted and broken teeth.
The Fangs of the Adder are sharp. The boy nearly purred. The Venom of the Adder is pure, Snape stated. All shall fall before the might of the Adder. The boy chirped and they both finished together. "Surrender to the Adderstrike," Snape said.
Your names? the boy demanded. Snape quickly gave his own name and the names of his companions, informing the boy that they were all Wizards. The boy examined them all and then nodded.
I'll see if he can see you. You will hand over your wands before entering the building. Including backup wands. You will not be able to apparate, portkey, or 'pop' out of the building once you have entered. He wasn't looking at Snape when he said all of this, but rather the other wizards who were with Snape. Clearly, the boy trusted Snape but not the others. Snape easily surrendered all three of his wands, along with his emergency portkey and headed inside the building, which didn't look much better than the outside did. It was amazing the place hadn't completely collapsed yet. Only once all the wands where surrendered did a young girl appear, maybe six or seven.
The King will see you now. She informed them, her eyes cold and wary as she studied the strangers, the boy with the rotted teeth leading the way down hallways that led into what once might have been a ballroom or a lobby, depending on what the building had been before the Adderstrike had taken it over. The room was filled with people, many talking, others playing with various knives and guns and weapons. Some of the older ones were doing various homework, with wands and without. In the middle of the chaos was a massive throne, a young man lounging in it, his hair messy, as if he'd forgotten to brush it, his skin as pale as moonlight, his eyes as green as emeralds and glowing in the dank dimness... it was the Scar though, that told them all who was before them, and Snape felt his blood freeze.
Harry Potter was the King of Adderstrike.
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'Looks like home,' the male thought to himself as he approached the large building. Everything was boarded up since it hadn't been in use for quite some time, that much was clear. Blake was tall, thin, and attractive, with jet-black hair and stark ocean-blue eyes. An air of confidence surrounded him, yet here he was nevertheless. Blake had been raised by his crack whore mother and the several boyfriends who enjoyed having their fun with him when he couldn't fight back. She wouldn't do anything about it most of the time; half the time she was asleep, and the other half she was too scared of being beaten herself to speak up. When he was eight years old, he was out on the street more often than in his house, well, the apartment they were renting that they could only afford because his mother was sleeping with the landlord.
Around his ninth birthday, he started noticing things happening without him meaning to happen, and without any sort of reason. He kept it to himself so he wouldn't be sent to the looney bin. He practiced when he was alone, able to control some of it. It was the worst when he was fourteen, her current boyfriend deciding that he was going to fuck him after dinner. He fought back, though the man was large and overpowered him easily. His mouth was covered but his thoughts were racing, yelling and screaming, cursing and shouting. All of a sudden, he was free - there was nothing on, in or around him. He looked around and behind him was a small toy that looked like the man. He kept it hidden from everyone, especially his mother, though she would die in a few months anyway.
When she was gone, he left and hung out with a few other teenagers who lived on the streets, hitting puberty and growing stronger, mentally, physically, and magically. There were times he did things and didn't even know how they worked but stopped trying to figure it out, taking it as one good thing that had happened to him and leaving it at that. He and a few mates had broken into a shop to grab some things one night and he had tripped on a shelf, falling into a brick wall but hitting a floor instead. He looked around, freaking out as he found himself in a different shop completely, gone were the rows of food and replaced by little boxes that seemed to have been haphazardly thrown around. He walked through the rows, feeling as if he was moving with purpose towards something unknown. It was dark and empty so he wasn't worried about being caught, stopping in front of one of the shelves and pulling out one of the boxes.
Opening it, he found a...stick? He turned it over in his hand, looking for something that would make it significant. He stuck it in his back pocket and opened another, and another, and another. All sticks. It seemed warm in his hands though, so he kept the first one as he ran through the wall again, looking behind him with a look of astonishment and wonder. There was no way he would be telling anybody about any of this. He kept the stick hidden though he kept it on him at all times, messing with it when there was no one around. The things he could do became more concentrated and he could actually direct their energy with it, amazed. The best thing? It could open locked doors. Who needed to break in and set off an alarm when you could just let yourself in and help yourself?
It was a few more years living like this until he met Zach. The man knew what he was and how to help him do more with the stick, or wand as Zach said it was called. He taught him things that let him do so many things. With a few words said correctly he could make people do whatever he wanted, writhe in pain and could even kill them. Zach wouldn't let him use that one, he said it left a trace and people would be able to find him if he used that. Zach became his mentor and his friend, and after a while, his lover. They were running. Blake had no idea who or what they were running from but they were constantly on the move. One day they were caught by a group of hooded figures, one hand coming from the cloak, a shock of green light leaving the wand and Zach fell to the ground.
Blake fell to the ground beside him, tears springing to his eyes. He shot curses around the circle, hitting whatever he could before everything went dark, blurring his sight though he did see a dark-haired man lift him from the ground and carry him away from Zach's body. He remained silent for a long time, refusing to speak to anyone, especially Snape, as he had introduced himself. Eventually he would acknowledge him but call him a murderer no matter how many times they had explained what he had done. He had been a spy sent to infiltrate the opposition. He had been caught and had killed several members, a bounty being put on his head that anyone would kill him for. It didn't matter to him. He believed the man had loved him. He didn't know he was only being used.
After they had determined he wouldn't be a risk to anyone, they decided to take him there. It was the only thing he had been told. He had been blindfolded on the trip there with several others who had been picked off the streets, though much later than him. He had seen many come and go before they let him leave. Black jeans hugged his legs while above he wore a black shirt and black leather jacket, overall looking like a shadow besides the pale skin of his face and hands. That was about the only part of his skin that hadn't been marked and scarred. At the door, he handed over his wand, several guns, knives, a couple home-made bombs, and then looked down at his black combat boots. They had a switch so that a blade would shoot out from the toe but decided not to tell them about that, preferring to keep his shoes on.
He heard the male speak to him, though he was barely shorter than him by a few inches, and acted as if he were superior. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he followed him into the large room. It made sense they would try and fit such a large group somewhere like this. It was very well hidden and they wouldn't have to worry about it being taken because it was in the run-down section of the city they would rather ignore than try to make better. He caught the small movement of Snape as he set eyes on the 'King', guessing that he knew the male somehow. Blake was more interested in the others around him, the weapons they were using, and the spells they were casting. He didn't have to worry about meeting his eyes as he wasn't at all interested in what he had to say or why Snape had even brought him here. He was doing just fine on his own, well, before they had killed Zach. Since then, he had just been angry and lost.</s>
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The frontier world of Shas'an had a long way to go before it could become a fully fledged Sept of the Tau Empire. One of the unique challenges was the local fauna. Though not exactly dangerous, there had been a few incidents of aggression. That was part of the work that they did at Fia's lab. It was the central lab for breeding and fertility operations on the colony, and besides ensuring the high fertility rates needed to sustain a colony's population, the Earth caste scientists also developed less aggressive strains of local fauna. Fia wasn't involved in that project. She and her team were specialists in Tau breeding, and as they called off their shift for the evening, the three of them strolled wearily back to the hab block nearby.
Fia, the tallest of the girls, was the team's leader from the Bork'an Sept and was a very light blue in color. Vy and her sister Cho were local-born, and had the distinct purple tint that Tau of Shas'an had started to develop. All of them wore standard Earth caste kit, dark blue bodysuits under white lab gowns. They walked and joked with one another, happy to be done with another day but also talking about taking their work home with them. Both sisters hoped to find bond-mates and conceive offspring soon. Fia merely wondered how she would manage the workload while they were on gestation leave. None of them realized that they were being stalked from the shadows.
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"Patriarch," the Magus spoke up, "these are the three who work on the breeding of their kind." The other two near by were also relaying information before he spoke powerfully, the sound resonating over their own thoughts. "The leader is mine, do with the other two as you wish... Make it look like an attack directed by one of the scientist's rivals..."They spoke enthusiastically that his will would be done as he closed his eyes waiting for his prize to arrive. After all, a brood lord like him did not need do much more than direct his lessors till his true masters arrived. "One survivor who ran to save her own hide, and she will return to be the start of something grand in this worthless Tau encampment, some empire..." He chortled at that they were all ants scurrying around before the will of others, only who he was under was too vast to imagine they had no chance.
The magus moved forward with a grace that fit his station - a low faction, but it has been making some noise. "Ahh how are the three of you doing this day?" He nodded to each in turn, his bald head and heavy features making him rarely one who had anyone outside of a few political whores at his call. "Fia, I would ask that you escort me, I have someone who would like to meet you very much. He is rather shy, but was hoping to talk to you about the breeding program." He was known for speaking very bluntly, and as a second in command, his 'liege' was often hidden away to busy to be concerned with such low matters. However, there have been a few who had devoted themselves to the strange man always hidden giggling about his features, and seemed to hide all suspicions about the man being always locked away. The two gene stealers ahead waited quietly, one above the light in an alley they would need to take unless they were planning on a longer walk. They would chase the women down if must either way; the three women were not going to be free to continue their work unless it was under the Patriarch's command.</s>
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Hermione was sitting in the dungeon of Voldemort's castle, bound and gagged. She was wearing absolutely nothing, not a shred of clothing or dignity in sight. Tears streamed down her face as she lay on the cold cement floor, her ankles tied together and her hands tied behind her back. On her thigh, "mudblood" was burned into her skin.
She wasn't sure what was going to happen to her. The other members of the Order had been murdered right before her eyes, but for some reason or another, he had spared her for further punishment and humiliation. Honestly, she was just hoping that he would go ahead and kill her. She'd rather be dead than live her life the way he had forced mudbloods to live these days. She didn't want to be a sex slave to some elderly Death Eater... No, she couldn't bear the thought.
Meanwhile, at Malfoy Manor, Astoria had just received an owl from the dark lord himself, and it was addressed to Draco.
"Draco," Astoria snapped, walking into his office without knocking, "I've been calling your name for hours."
She tossed the letter onto his desk and crossed her arms over her chest. "This came for you."
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As you should. After so many orgasms last night, you should be still screaming from the rooftops." Draco scowled a little as he glanced up at her rude interruption, before going back to finishing off the paperwork he was going over. While he didn't have to work, his father continuously told him he didn't have to, but he enjoyed working at Gringotts.
Huffing out a breath when he realized his wife wasn't going anywhere and expected him to read it with her hovering over him, he flicked a glance towards the door. "Don't you have something else to be doing?" He asked, while in the beginning he and Astoria had been well suited, and he had thought he'd grow to love her, at 23 he was over the fantasy, and so wishing he could get rid of her. But he hadn't found a way out without ruining his reputation, and despite how sick he felt over how he'd made that reputation, he wasn't about to throw it away, and render everything he'd ever done, good or bad, meaningless. While the sex was still outstanding, and sometimes the only reason he could stand to be near his wife, he was tired of his life.
Leaning back into his chair as he picked up the letter he made a show of picking it up and sliding his thumb under the seal and pulled out the letter. Reading it quickly, he stood, reaching for the dark trench coat lying on the couch. "I'm going out for the evening. Don't expect me home for dinner." He said, pausing long enough to give her a goodbye kiss and pull his jacket on, looking like everyone would expect for the Malfoy heir.
Dressed in black slacks, a charcoal grey dress shirt, with the wool coat over it. Though his hair was shorter than it had been when he was young, it was still brushing his cheek, hanging loosely in his face, the dark blond five o'clock shadow on his face making him look dashing rather than scraggly. He looked young, rich, and like a man who was used to walking into a room and having everyone stop and look at him, whether in fear or lust, it was always the question.
Apparating to Riddle Manor, he walked through the halls silently, enjoying the relative silence that greeted his appearance. Like his father, the man was a well-loved, well-treated Death Eater. Knocking lightly on the Dark Lord's door, he paused long enough to get an answer before stepping inside. "You wished to see me, my lord?" He said, tilting his head a little.</s>
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The door to the Fenton household opened with a small creak, the woman on the outside taking a moment to scan the interior with her goggle-covered eyes. All empty. Maddie Fenton, one of Amity Park's best known ghost hunters (Better known than her husband for quite a few reasons) took a cautious step into her house and shut the door behind her, a bag of groceries resting in one of her arms. "Jack?" she called out. No answer. "Jazz?" she added soon after. Again, no answer. Maddie hesitated for a moment and called out "Danny?" a little louder than the other names. Well, from the looks of things she was home alone, excellent! She quickly hurried into the kitchen and set the bag down on the counter, before scurrying upstairs to her bedroom.
Thank goodness she had some privacy, she'd been dying to fire one out. She slipped off her goggles and cowl to reveal her brunette hair and unblemished face. Her hands quickly worked to undo her tight suits, freeing her large breasts and her womanly hips. Once naked, she reached into her sock drawer and took out a newspaper clipping of Amity Park's own ghost boy 'Inviso-Bill.' Ugh this was so wrong, fantasizing about someone who, not only was young enough to be her son, but also the fact that this was a ghost of all things!
But...well, while she was still emotionally in love with her husband, sexually he couldn't do anything without taking about a dozen pills, and even then he lacked the stamina to fully please her. Plus she was having a fantasy she imagined most mature women had, to take a young inexperienced stud and show him the ropes. So with the picture in hand, Maddie let out a long groan and sank two fingers into her pussy.
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The ghostly apparition commonly known as 'Inviso-Bill', but more preferably as Danny Phantom, was making his dozenth or so pass over the usual haunting spots of the city before contacting his friends and fellow ghost hunters. "Looks like a surprisingly quiet night here in Amity Park," he noted with a mixture of disappointment and relief after the time wasted on this patrol, "No ghost activity to report after hours of patrolling. Not even any Goths with ghostly white complexions."
"Hey!" Came the familiar female voice on the other end; causing Danny to give an embarrassed chuckle before apologizing, "Heh. Sorry, Sam." Another sweep over the school and nothing yet, which caused the rather tired hero/public menace to let out a bored yawn before deciding, "Look, guys. I'm going to head home for now. Let me know if anything spooky pops up."
"You mean aside from helping my dad with his bunion?" Tucker Foley chimed in over the mic; only for an older male voice to call out in the background, "Tucker?! Is that you? I need your help again!" Immediately after came the rather rushed "Gotta go! Bye!" before Tucker's line went dead. From there Danny headed home while Sam and himself exchanged a few parting words to each other before hanging up.
Upon arriving home, Danny kept to his ghost form and turned invisible with the hopes of phasing through the walls and up to his room without anyone noticing. Surprisingly for his family, the place seemed awfully quiet as the teen made his way through the kitchen. "Huh. Looks like I got in while everyone else was out. At least that saves me having to come up with an excuse for where I was until now." The teen remarked before noticing the bags on the counter. "I guess Mom's here, at least. Probably down in the lab. Which means..." Danny muttered to himself; figuring it meant a quick shortcut through the bedrooms without any chance of disturbing anything while his parents might notice.
It didn't take long, however, before the invisible half-ghost found himself within his parents room and greeted to a rather unexpected sight. Freezing in mid-air, the currently invisible Danny's jaw dropped at the full on view of his mother pleasuring herself. "Woah." The teen whispered beneath his breath. In the past, the thought of his parents doing anything sexual would gross him out. Even their more intimate kisses made him a bit squeamish to be around for seeing. But seeing his mother on her own. No dad in sight. Fully exposed and in the midst of such intimacy. Well, it left Danny with a very different view of his better looking parental figure.
Watching Maddie for several moments, a rather shameful tent starting to form within those dark form fitting tights, Danny had to remind himself of how wrong this was before forcing himself to attempt in flying away. Taking the long way of flying by her, however, the teen hero couldn't help but let his eyes steal a few more glances of Maddie Fenton's rather full and mature curves.
What caught him perhaps by even bigger surprise, though, was when Danny managed to fly close enough to take a look at the photo in the newspaper clipping she was using for visual assistance. "Wait. That's me?!" The ghost boy blurted rather loudly; his concentration letting go enough for him to end up smacking into the nearby wall, which in turn sent him tumbling to the bedroom floor and out of his invisible state.
"Ohno." Danny uttered as his face turned white even for a ghost; quickly scrambling to his feet and holding both hands up in a defensive stance while trying to explain and maintain the alter ego, "It's, uh. It's not what it looks like, citizen! Go back to your, um, reading and..." His voice trailed off slowly; there was no way of explaining this one away as he begged, "Please don't tell da-er, I mean, Mr. Fenton?"</s>
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"Okay, so what's the worst that can happen, really?" Rapunzel asked the small green chameleon that sat on her window ledge. The blonde perched atop the rocky ledge, her bared feet close together, toes wiggling. She rocked for a moment, the entire impressive length of her golden hair shifting with the slight movement. Even the littlest movement could cause the feet upon feet of hair stretching out behind Rapunzel to shift; she'd learned that from an early age. Fortunately, she'd learned how to move with the hair, often using it for all sorts of handy things. So one of those things happened to be a rope, and she might have sneaked out of the tower and almost immediately ran into her mother.
"It's not like there are man-eating monsters out there!" protested Rapunzel, waving toward the outside again. Her pet just gave her a lackadaisical look before rolling its eyes. It was used to the pretty young girl discussing things like this. Rapunzel had been talking about leaving the tower off and on for the last half dozen years or so. Her eighteenth birthday lay just around the corner, and it was as if that looming date had set off some kind of internal clock within the naive girl. She wanted to head out, specifically to see some lights. Her mother had already said no, but that wasn't enough to stop Rapunzel, oh no.
Unfortunately, she'd had a little difficulty finding her way out of the little valley where her tower lay, and there had been some walking in circles and stuff and she'd eventually just wound up more or less where she'd started. And there had been mother. And then Rapunzel's mother had been quite insistent that the girl return to the tower. A day or so had passed, and then Mother Gothel had insisted that Rapunzel clean up, because the next day they'd be getting a visitor.
"And wear something cute," the woman said, eying her "daughter" critically. "Though I'm not sure there's any hope for you."
Rapunzel really didn't have any clue if she counted as attractive enough. Oh, she supposed that her hair was beautiful, being golden and thick and all. But her face was rather rounded, almost as though childhood hadn't quite given up on her. Her bright green eyes were a little on the large side too, seeming to stand out prominently on her face. She supposed her skin could use some coloring too; she hadn't exactly been outside the tower in ages and you could only get so much sun through windows. Her nails and hands had a tendency to get grubby from the countless activities she did to fight off her boredom. She certainly didn't have the same figure as her mother. Her bust simply did not stand out as impressively and she didn't quite have the flare to her hips. Rapunzel liked to think that she still counted as cute, and that most of what she had to wear counted too, but her mother kept saying she wasn't, so...
The girl shrugged and swung away from the window, moving about. The tower was already clean, spotless, in fact, and Rapunzel had gathered the right supplies for a supper if it came to that. She'd brushed through the hair already and tried to make it as shimmering as possible. She'd found a few ribbons which she'd tried to weave in, which she thought looked nice. As far as clothing went, she opted for one of her better dresses. It was still a pale pink that definitely looked "cute," but she thought it would work alright. She liked it. Underneath was the usual: a light pink shift. No need for shoes.
"Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your haaaair!" the familiar voice called. Rapunzel skipped over, tossing over a great rope of the golden hair. Within moments, Mother Gothel had climbed up the tower and was dusting herself off. She gave Rapunzel a once over, frowned, muttered a "I suppose that's the best you'll ever do" and then walked to the center of the tower floor. She set down a small bottle that Rapunzel had never seen before, stepped back, and then muttered some words. Smoke billowed out of the bottle, and Rapunzel wasn't sure whether to step back or look forward. Her pet had decided that now was a good time to leave; it scampered off, leaving Rapunzel and her mother to face whatever the smoke had released.
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The bottle, it would change everything. What was in that bottle was something primal, something that had existed before the world and could quite possibly continue to exist long after the world was torn apart.
In the Eastern Lands of Story and Sand, there were legends of worlds beyond ours, not out in the stars but in places that were all around us, but could not be seen. The denizens of these lands were many, but among them there existed the Ifrit and the Djinn.
These beings were both incredibly powerful and lived in planes that were close enough to touch in some places, but while the Djinn were generally cheerful trickster beings who took great care not to harm the mortals who occasionally stumbled into their lands, the Ifrit were the opposite - wild and bestial things controlled by the basest of urges. Beings of violence and lust.
Among the Ifrit, there was one being in particular that stood out. He had long watched the human world from the tower that he had built for himself, wanting to find a way to do what humans often did by accident - cross over. The Ifrit had a hard time doing that, as far as this particular one was aware, no single one of them had ever managed.
But Cherubael was not going to just give up because none had ever done it before. He knew there had to be a way, and he would find it. Eventually, word reached him: A human king had found a way to draw the Djinni forth into the human world. As far as Cherubael was concerned, he could use that as a way into the mortal world.
And so he mounted an invasion, leading a demi-legion into the world of the Djinni, and when he felt the mortal king's spell work, he rushed forward and out into the softer and brighter land. It was all that he had desired; the air was crisper, the people were so much softer. Here, he would be able to rule like a king... here, he would rule as a god.
But the king who had brought him forth knew the mistake he had made and Cherubael had no idea what he had just rushed into blind. The King had been binding the Djinn in lamps, powerful spells forcing them to use their power to grant wishes of those that freed them. This however was going to be a different thing, a very different sort of thing... the spells were hasty and improvised but what they lacked in subtly they made up in power. Cherubael was bound into a glass bottle, the spell to release him was carved into the glass along with a warning that the spells that would keep him obedient would not last, if he was released then sooner or later he would find a way to free himself from the control of the witch or wizard that set him loose.
Time went by, Cherubael was unsure how much as he slumbered for most of the time, the bottle was passed from hand to hand, traded along from magic user to magic user, the spell to release him remained legible but in time the warning was rubbed away, too many hands rubbing over the wrong spot would have great effect later on.
Cherubael knew that he would be free eventually though, humanity was short-sighted and foolish. Many centuries had past before the bottle eventually passed into the hands of a witch, moderately powerful but using a rather unique sort of magic, rare in this world that allowed her to remain young far beyond her years.
She began to whisper the proper words to the bottle to awaken the spirit within, letting him know what was intended; he was to remain in or near the tower and keep the girl within from leaving by any means necessary, beyond that he could do as he liked... so long as he did not kill the girl or cut her hair. He wasn't released right away though; the first part of the spell to release him could be done at any time, it would awaken the spirit and the second half would be completed in the next twenty-four hours or else the Ifrit inside would sleep again. But a few hours later, he heard the other words speaking; the chains that bound him in the bottle weakened and disappeared, smoke pouring free, and with it Cherubael was given flesh once more, though he wasn't as strong as he had once been, the time locked away had weakened him. Before he had been able to change his form however he liked, size and shape had been his to command, but now he was trapped into a single shape, the one he wore most often, towering at nearly seven feet tall, three hundred and twenty pounds of solid muscle covered in thick fur with waves of heat radiating from his body... his resting temperature in the neighborhood of a hundred and ten degrees, but could raise even higher when angered or excited. And he was very excited to be free.
Gothel, he murmured, his voice a deep and powerful growl that echoed from the tower walls. This is the girl that you have freed me to watch over... I can guarantee that she will not be leaving. He looked over her, eyes narrowing, long and thick tongue running over his lips, tracing over his prominent teeth, the leather loincloth that he wore was straining to cover the bulge that was forming. You can leave now, I will be very happy looking after her. At least for a while, sooner or later he would find a way free of the bindings, now that he was free, he would have all that he desired.</s>
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The Doctor snuck through Rory and Amy's flat doing a quick check. He found Rory on the couch with the television still on. "Rory, check." He tip-toed to the room and found Amy passed out on her bed, "Pond, check." He quietly closed the door and ran to the TARDIS. Feeling a bit weighed down by the married couple, The Doctor took on a solo adventure every now and again. He quickly ran around the TARDIS's console and threw all the switches to get her moving. "TARDIS, check." He then moved to a mirror near the console and checked himself, quaffing his hair to the left and straightening his jacket. "Cool factor," he said, tightening and straightening his bow tie. With a smirk he added, "Check." Throwing the switch, the TARDIS lurched into action as he shouted, "Geronimo!" Then he was off through all of space and time.
When he felt the TARDIS come to stop, he limbered himself up before bravely stepping out of the Police Box with a bright smile. The environment he stepped out into was a dark and bleak one. "Ooo, a bit dreary this place." He then saw the bars in front of him, causing a slight frown to mar his face. "I don't remember wanting to go to prison." Had he put in the wrong coordinates, or was the TARDIS just acting up?
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River had become quite used to life in prison, however much she hated that fact, she had. The only thing that kept her going, was that The Doctor occasionally came and picked her up, to go on adventures. She lived for those days, rare as they were. River had, much to her disappointment, only managed to lure him into bed with her twice. Although it didn't always happen in a bed. One of them had been her first time with him. And the other had been his first time with her. The latter had definitely been the hardest to get him to do. She was pretty sure he had blushed all the way through it.
So when a boring, normal day in her cell was interrupted by the whooshing of the TARDIS, River quickly got up from her bed and put on her boots. Ready for anything. Her gray tank top and olive green pants, wasn't as flattering as she would have liked. But she could make anything look sexy. It was all about confidence and attitude. And River had loads of confidence.
"I don't think anyone wants to go to prison, sweetie," River stated, standing by her very small and uncomfortable bed, with her arms crossed over her chest. "I'm glad you think you should see me... even if you don't," she said, sounding part wounded, part teasing as she took a few steps closer to him.</s>
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Elvira lay on the floor of the second-story master bedroom, staring up at the ceiling and watching dust float past. For 504 days she had been waiting for a new family to move into the home, lightly pulling at her thick black hair. "504 days," she murmured. "I mean, I know this house is shitty, but it's not that bad."
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Rapid footfalls beat hard on the ground, a girl wearing a large dirty black zip-up hoodie maneuvered through the foliage; her breath coming out as heavy pants. She tripped over a tree root that stuck from the earth and fell on her face before getting up and running again. She found a rather large old house and rushed towards the door, ripping it open and moving inside, shutting the door and leaning against it, panting hard before sliding to the floor.</s>
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Welcome to Summoner's Rift!
Ah, that old, crisp, feminine voice that rang out across the battlefield. So many times had Ahri been here, through so many victories and losses, yet now she was controlled by a summoner with little experience wielding someone with her charms and allure. She giggles softly as she hears the sound of gold coins being dropped into the fat coinpurse of the merchant at the platform to get her a ring. "Aww, how cute," she whispers to her summoner through their telepathic connection as she slips a Doran's Ring on her ring finger and quickly moves for... Top lane?
Wait, top lane?
This summoner really had no idea what they were doing. A small frown reached her lips. So many in top lane were just too fleshy for her to handle to begin with... This summoner overestimated themselves. Not to mention, she had heard of the opposing team's summoners. The infamous group of sexual predators... Yet they had been allowed to play. It increased the popularity of the matches at a time where they had been going on for so long that some had wondered aloud if there was even a point to them anymore.
Still. She reaches her lane on the purple side, taking a few deep breaths she twirls her blue orb around her hands and tails, the light reflecting off her smooth as silk thighs. Who would it be this time she wondered. Who would she charm and drain dry in this little simulated playground of death and mayhem.
Minions have spawned!
A small smile of simple delight spreads across her face, her eyes filled with a playful nature. "Lets play." She enters the lane with her minions, failing to check the brush for any intruders, and failing to place any wards down in the jungle or in the river to start with...
Not that... It was too dangerous...
Right?
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Nasus had been a favorite champion of many man summoners across all of the leagues within the Institute of War from the time of his arrival in this world. Under normal circumstances, this would please the canine-like curator. Being so frequently picked placed him in the Fields of Justice often and finding himself here as often as he did gave him more and more opportunities to encounter his brother, Renekton, so that he may humble the reptilian champion. Today was different, however. Today, he was under the command of a summoner with peculiar powers and peculiar methods of waging war. Nasus had been picked by this summoner often and he was none-to-pleased to have been selected once again.
This summoner, as Nasus would have put it, was a paragon of injustice within the Institute of War - a great sign of the corruption that the power of a summoner could incite in a mortal man. He and his team of four other summoners had, in a sense, gone rogue some time back. Though they were still summoners of the League of Legends, they no longer sought out sanctioned games. Instead, they spent their time finding new, weak summoners and turning the Fields of Justice into a sexual battle royale. How they had evaded punishment was anyone's guess, but they had never seemed to get so much as a slap on the wrist for such actions.
For a beast such as Nasus, the thoughts were infuriating and the actions, unforgivable. To make matters worse, Nasus had been forced to carry out these actions with no ability to deny the commands given to him by his summoner. He had been made an unwilling accomplice in all of this injustice and things were about to get worse.
Until now, all of these sexual battles had been conducted against the weaker, lesser-known champions of the League of Legends - champions that no one cared about and few had ever even heard of. This match, however, was to be played against the League's true champions. The women on the other team were all champions that Nasus encountered regularly in the Fields of Justice. He feared, deeply, that he would be forced to carry out these commands against someone that he could call a friend.
It was then that Nasus's thoughts were broken. The connection to his summoner had been completed and Nasus was torn from his home in the far-off deserts. Moments later, he was standing on the summoner's platform in the Summoner's Rift, along with four other champions whom he had come to know well because of these twisted summoners.
As usual, he found himself here not as himself, but as a damned and infernal version of the Nasus that had been left behind in the desert. This body... It was hard to explain. When Nasus found himself in this form, he always seemed to enjoy the torment that he brought against his fellow champions more than normal. It was as if this form somehow tainted his soul. He did not like it, but it did, at least, make these matches more bearable for the noble curator.
The clatter of gold could be heard filling the coinpurse of the platform's merchant and in mere moments, Nasus was headed for top lane with his Doran's Shield.
Knowing that his summoner had more experience than that of the enemy summoners, Nasus was not surprised to see that he had beaten his opponent into lane. The canine-like champion waited at the lane tower for a few moments while his summoner formulated a plan. Nasus could almost hear the gears clanking in his summoner's head from his place in the fields. The enemy team's composition was... laughable at best. Nasus had no idea what to expect and it seemed that his summoner did not either.
"Minions have spawned!"the voice rang across the rift.
The announcement sent Nasus's summoner into action, causing him to guide his champion into the nearby brush along the top wall of the rift. From here, they would be able to see their opponent long before they were seen themselves, a tactic that most summoners learn early, but with as fresh as the opposing team was... Who could guess what they might do?
After a few seconds, Ahri came into view. Wait... Ahri? Nasus had to do a double-take to make sure that he was seeing this correctly, but yes, it was, without a doubt, the League's Nine-Tailed Fox. This Revelation brought a bit of relief to the Curator's clouded mind. Ahri had taken her current form from stealing the lives of innocent mortal men. Though the Institute offered her a way of retaining her humanoid form without the need to kill, this did not pardon her from past crimes; not in his eyes. She was a selfish, vain creature who valued her own interests above the very lives of others. He would have no quarrel exacting vengeance for the lives that Ahri had ended before joining the League.
For now, however, he was having to wait. His summoner seemed to be formulating a plan of attack...</s>
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It had been two years. Two years since Monkey D. Luffy had set out on his adventure, tackled the Grand Line with all his enthusiasm and his strength, gathering together a ragtag bunch of misfits along the way and creating quite a large amount of trouble for the World Government. Or, at least... it would have been. Fate was strange like that; the smallest thing could have drastic consequences. Luffy had never met Nami, or Zoro, or Usopp or Sanji or any of the group. Perhaps he was still out there somewhere, giving the Marines hell... but it also meant he never met one Nico Robin. The Jaguar rocked in the waves off the coast of a small island by the name of Roak. It lay on one of those seven paths through the Grand Line, that ineffable and dangerous sea that drew the wild and the foolhardy. It was a great ship, a full galleon staffed by a full crew -- a crew whose collective bounty steadily rose with every month. Nico Robin stood atop the deck, eyes as blue as ice staring out at the sea. She was clad in a form-fitting catsuit of some sort, with shortened sleeves and long, shiny gloves to compensate. Her neckline plunged down nearly to her navel, the material straining over her breasts as she enjoyed the feeling of the evening air. "Mm. How much longer did Pet say until the Log Pose is set?" she called out across the deck. "Another hour or so, ma'am," came the reply from one of the crewmen on deck.
Robin almost sighed, settling one slender hand under her chin as she sashayed slowly along the Jaguar's deck. "Pity," she said, "but can't be helped, I suppose." Her high heels clicked against the solid wooden deck.
It was an interesting life, leading the Demon Pirates (an appellation oh-so-fitting for the "Demon Child" Nico Robin as she'd been called so many years ago). The Poneglyphs were yet out there and ripe for the viewing... but... there was only so far she could be pushed. Kicked around from service to service until she'd been employed by Crocodile... and, well, the moment he'd tried to get rid of her, seastone shackles had seen to him. Two years. Two loooong years since then.
At least her crew were enjoying themselves on Roak - the screams had died down about an hour ago, which meant the place was likely pillaged and her crew had started relieving themselves with the local populace. It was part of the reason for the bounty they'd managed to accrue... and part of the reason why the Jaguar was so big, and why its brig was likewise quite large.
She slowly made her way up to the bow of the ship, turning to quite gently press her hip against the wooden railing, settling her hand on the polished surface. It WAS an interesting life most times... it was only when they were forced to halt for the Log Pose that the monotony set in. Tick, tock, tick, tock... She reflected that the next island had best be larger, if only so that there were better specimens to find - both in the populace and the sort of books they had. Roak's had been rubbish - shoddy reprints of some of her collection. It left her with precious little to do.
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Indeed, in another life or time, a chance encounter with an enthusiastic young pirate would change the lives of so many others in ways they may have never imagined. Certainly, this was the case for one Roronoa Zoro, famed pirate hunter, whom never had such a fateful encounter which would guide the famed swordsman toward being the trusted blade of a potential Pirate King. Instead, the pirate hunter was left stuck at the mercy of a marine captain's pampered son for several days, until having to fight his way out when the little punk broke their promise on intending to free him after a month. Things got messy. Very messy. Afterward, Zoro spent the coming months and eventual years toughening his skill against pirate and marine alike. Still very much the pirate hunter he'd been known for prior, but having to make backdoor deals with marines which were willing to overlook his increasing bounty in order to let him do their job for them. Neither a pirate nor a marine, the three sword style swordsman kept his eye on the eventual goal which lead to his embarking out into the sea in the first place; that of being the greatest swordsman alive. The swordsman believed himself nearly ready. He'd fought many of the best from both the marines and the current pirate generation. His pockets lined with many coins over time. But before believing himself ready to take the fight directly to Dracule Mihawk, the greatest of all swordsmen, there remained one final obstacle to overcome.
For the past few weeks, the often times easily lost swordsman had worked his way toward the biggest pirate bounty anyone could target. Not an easy task considering his sense of direction. So what luck it was when the island he'd next decided to take a break upon after ditching his small, rickety old boat turned out to be the one which Nico Robin's crew seemed to be pillaging next.
Waves crashed above him as he kept his breath held and swam beneath the churning water near the docked ship. Better way to avoid detection than approaching from the beach, even if it did lead to his taking a few wrong turns and adding a dozen more minutes to his swim. But regardless, Zoro came up near the far end of the ship, as he took in a deep gasp for air. Surveying the exterior from his low vantage point while floating in place, the pirate hunter then pulled out a small blade and displayed his impressive physical strength by managing to slowly climb up the exterior of the large ship with this blade alone as an assisted grip. Impressive considering the amount of physical strength used to swim for so long underwater.
Huffing only slightly by the time the swordsman made his way onto the deck, Zoro had discarded his shirt and kept only to his dark pants and boots while making his way along the dangerous ship. His body and clothes already dripping enough without said shirt adding to it, which meant the young warrior's toned upper body was on full display for any whom could see it. A number of smaller battle scars decorated his flesh. Nothing quite to what Mihawk may have left across his chest had their paths crossed earlier in another world, but certainly a fair amount of which to read like a map of his history since taking to the seas.
Unfortunately for those few on the ship whom did cross his path, the swordsman was quick enough at dispatching them with minimal noise on his part. Quick enough for them to barely catch a glimpse of their attacker before giving into the embrace of unconsciousness or worse. Their bodies hit the ground with light thuds, similar to the sounds made by those fellow crewmates on the island whose acts of debauchery were close enough to earshot for Zoro to ignore. More bodies falling. Not the best thing to have happening if one wanted the full element of surprise, but that was fine. Much like how scars on the back of a swordsman is shameful, so was leaving such a scar on the back of an opponent as you sole means of defeating them.
Having spotted the leader of the Demon Pirates, Zoro slowly approached. The sounds of a last few fallen crew members beginning to be heard in the background as they groaned out their last breaths. The swordsman stood there. One sword held clutched within his teeth. Two others at his side. Gripped firmly. Aware of her powers. Every fiber of his body intending of lashing out the first sign of her using those abilities to defeat him.
Believing himself ready, as the pirate hunter spoke, "Nico Robin?" His right hand raising a sword. Pointing it toward her while standing a few feet away. Directing it at her head, with the other in his left hand remaining ready to strike at a moments notice, he got right to the point, "I came for your bounty. You can either come along quietly or I can take you down by force. What's it going to be?"</s>
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The deafening thunderclap broke off negotiations between Ryudo and his client, the Church of Granas. The Geohound didn't know much about Valmar, pieces of Valmar or the powers of darkness, but he knew that the thunderclap he'd heard didn't sound natural in the slightest.
Ryudo turned to regard Carius, who was already beginning to follow him. Irritatedly, Ryudo shook his head. "Stay here," he insisted to the holy man, who opened his mouth to protest, only for Ryudo to shake his head even more firmly.
"What good are you in combat if it comes to that?" he asked. "I'll go out there and see what's going on. This doesn't mean we have a deal yet! I just... want to see it for myself with all your babble about Dark Ones."
Carius protested again, but held his tongue. After all, at this rate, the Geohound's services would be very much needed again. Considering the failure of the sealing ceremony, and the likelihood of the Wings of Valmar being trapped within Elena, the journey to Granas Cathdral would be necessary, and it was a long and dangerous one.
Moments later, Ryudo tore out onto the church grounds. His hand was on his sword, looking for the source of the sound. Whatever it was, judging by the destruction that already lay around, small buildings in rubble everywhere, it was as powerful as Carius had feared. Trepidation filled the Geohound, but he would not yield. It had already been an impossible day, and he was beyond curious as to what could cause *this.*
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"Ahhh,. Oh, it has beenwaytoo looong!" came a voice that really could only have been female, an exuberant cry of passion that filled the night sky, backed by the sounds of crackling fire that persisted in the wreckage of several houses in that tiny town.
But no one was around -- not in sight anyway. In fact... that voice didn't seem to be coming from the left or the right... but there was something peculiar. A shadow on the ground only a dozen feet out in the lee of the church, the silhouette of a woman... that voice was coming fromabove.
Millenia'slips curled into a cruel smile as her dark wings unfurled behind her, spreading wide behind her and casting her body into sharp relief against the glow of the moonlight. That silhouette of a figure looked for a moment like a cross against the ground, spiky and angular from the jagged edges of her wings.
And all at once the figure fell off the side of the church's roof, ethereal wings catching the wind and ferrying the redhead down to the ground, landing not far from Ryudo. She straightened up slowly, sinuously unfolding from her crouch, running her delicately-pointed fingers along the bare skin of her thigh, tantalizingly hinting at what lay below a skirt that was likely far too short.
"Mmm. Well, that was certainly fun. Shame this place is so small, though. There's hardly anything todo!" Millenia said, turning on one heeled foot to turn and face the figure she only now became cognizant of.
"Oh. Or maybe I take that back. Hello there," Millenia said with a lascivious wink Ryudo's way, those peculiarly glowing eyes openly raking over the swordsman.</s>
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Ferra pulled herself out of the snow and let out a sigh; she was drenched from head to toe because of falling through some ice - a small pond had been hidden under the deep snow and she was unaware of it and that is had weak ice. She grabbed the dead rabbits she had managed to hunt down and trudged her way back towards the cabin she was staying in.
Ferra was a young girl, age 18 with long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She had a slender build. Her chest was small with breasts that would fit perfectly in the palm of your hands. Anyways, Ferra had been alone since her parents were killed by Walkers about a year before.
However, she was no longer alone; she had been saved by a grungy man with shaggy hair and a crossbow. His name was Daryl Dixon, and she had made her way up north with him six months before to live out the winter. As she made her way into the cabin, she shut and locked the door behind her and sat her bow down on a rack Daryl had made along with her quiver. She pulled her jacket and boots off, trying to keep herself from shivering, as she trembled and made her way to the kitchen, where she put the rabbits in the freezer. She could hear Daryl making his way up from the basement, so she moved to the fireplace and threw a log onto the fire.
She grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her body and let out a sigh as she sat in front of the fire, trying to stay warm. She heard the basement door open, and she knew he had heard her come in. "I managed to get some rabbits," she said, trying to stay calm, but the cold felt like it was seeping into her bones. It had been hard for her to let him let her go outside alone, as he always was by her side since he had saved her life. She didn't know why he was so protective of her, but she didn't mind. "I can clean them up after." She pulled the blanket up and over her wet hair, shivering slightly now.
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These damn days were often spent in silence. Daryl's mature body and thick build was stretched out on a bare mattress with his hands locked behind his head. His dark, narrow eyes flickered about the darkness as he helplessly awaited Ferra's return with much concern, though unexpressed in his handsome features that ultimately created a tough guy image. He taught her everything there is to know about survival shortly after he saved her and secretly began to regret it when she became too dependent on him, which he found irritating. He claimed at that point, "I ain't no sitter. Now if you're gon' be with me, you're gon' have my back." And now she is too independent and ironically it annoys him more than when she was just a needy girl. His insatiable lust for Ferra grows stronger everyday but it pains him to know she does not need him in the sense of how much he needs her.
Daryl sat up at the sound of the distant opening and closing of the front door followed by the familiar thumping of Ferra's feet walking across the room. He blindly reached beside the mattress and grabbed his hunting knife before carefully climbing the stairs out of the basement. He twisted the knob and pushed the door open to see her cocooned in a thick blanket beside the small fire. As he neared her, his heavy boots emphasizing each step closer he took, she told him of the rabbits she caught. He just barely understood her through all the shivering. Daryl overshadowed her smaller figure once beside her and witnessed her struggling to get warm faster. "...That ain't no way to do it. Just getting the blanket wet too." He dropped down beside her and removed the blanket from her completely to see her clothes soaked all the way through and clinging to her figure. "Damn. What, you think it was a nice day for a swim?" He sucked his teeth and shook his head as he pinched an area of fabric on her shirt and felt the cold water occupying it. "You need to get out of these fast." Releasing her shirt, he snatched up the blanket and opened it wide like a curtain, hiding her body from him. "Hurry up, I ain't lookin'." He snapped at her before turning his attention towards the dancing flames. "Cover up with the blanket when you're done."</s>
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Pushing her large blue and top hat out of the way for just a moment, Caitlyn knelt down on one knee inside of the brush. This was certainly odd, there were no minions even though the minute fifty-five mark had passed. There was no announcement, no other champions in sight, no nothing! Her eyes scanned the area, seeing nothing but untouched terrain. Hell, for all she knew, the jungle camps were no where to be seen. Throwing out a few of her traps, just to be safe, she placed one in tri-bush and in the river bush before she resumed scanning the bot lane. Was everyone else having that much trouble summoning?
What the hell is going on?
The thought came as she stood up in the bush, her rifle at the ready. Taking just a moment to fix her skirt, Caitlyn ran back to the tower. Something was seriously wrong here. Three minutes had passed, and still nothing. The traps were still unsprang, and all Caitlyn could hear was the sound of the rushing water of the river. It was more of a stream if anything, but. .Shaking her head, Caitlyn tried to focus. If no one was here, and there were no minions, how in the hell was she going to get out of this place!
The summoner frowned. He wasn't super experienced at the game, but he also knew better to know that something was up. Caitlyn was the one champion he played fairly well, and he took a moment to glance around. He was alone. At first, he just assumed that the other summoners were running a bit late or something, now, he figured something was seriously wrong. He didn't see any of the elements that he'd normally see given these circumstances. Instead, it just seemed like it was his champion on the Fields of Justice. Alone.
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As Caitlyn and her Summoner were beginning to suspect, something very wrong was happening in the Rift today. One of the high-ranking Summoners of the League had gone rogue last week and today, in this match, he would begin to carve his name across the Fields of Justice. Today would be the first match in which she struck out at the lovely ladies of the League of Legends - the powerful women who had captured her imagination and touched her deepest fantasies. She wanted them, but she knew that she could never have them. It was because of this obsession that she went rogue. Because of this deep obsession with the League's female champions, she decided to take them in the only way that she knew how; by using the champions themselves against one another. By using the Champions of the League of Legends, she could best the objects of her desires in the Fields of Justice and use those champions as tools to vent her sexual frustrations.
Of course, the Institute of War would never allow something like this to happen, so it was necessary for her to take matters into her own hands. She had asked around, spread rumors, and followed leads to the Summoner that was now controlling Caitlyn. He was an easy mark - a novice with limited skills. Against her, he stood no chance, adCaitlynwas his favorite champion. She had hoped that he would bring the Sheriff of Piltover to the match, and her luck had paid out.
Using an unawares messenger to mediate between them, this rogue Summoner arranged this match with her opponent. It was entirely unsanctioned. The Institute knew nothing of it, and so there would be no minions to aid Caitlyn. There would be no other champions to come to her rescue. The only beings in the Rift today would be Caitlyn and her opponent,Jinx, the Loose Cannon.
Jinxhad been carefully picked for this match. The Summoner knew that she would need to make sure that her chosen champion would not reveal her identity to the institute following this match, lest she face harsh punishment. Jinx was perfect for this. She enjoyed chaos and mayhem. She also was not very fond of the Sheriff of Piltover. Jinx would keep the Summoner's secret. Of that, she was sure.
"I see that you made it to the party, Hat Lady!" Jinx shouted when she spotted Caitlyn hiding beneath the safety of her tower. Jinx, herself, was standing just outside of the tower's range, close to the safety of the lane brush just beyond the tower's firing range. Pow-Pow was in her hands, ready for action. Strangely, she didn't seem surprised by any of the suspicious absences on the Rift today. Instead, she just stood there; staring at Caitlyn with a mischievous grin on her lips and her finger on the trigger of her chain gun.</s>
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Ilea had spoken a lot of curses today, against the titans, against the Alliance, against her own foolishness... It had seemed like such a simple plan, sneaking through Alterac and down towards the Hillsbrad Foothills. The rogue had already spent several unpleasant weeks braving the cold and snow of the mountains, her leathers proving quite inadequate against the biting winds and furious storms, and now that she'd arrived in the foothills on the other side, the area was crawling with Alliance of all types.
When Ilea had departed the Undercity, glad to leave the stench and constant undead behind, the Horde had been primarily in control of Hillsbrad, but the tide had turned since her departure, and now she was quite a bit deeper in enemy territory than she would have liked. Not only were the Alliance common, but they were watchful too, expecting the Horde to make a push to take back the foothills any day now, and more vigilant for that expectation. They patrolled constantly, and more than once she'd been forced to hide away, spending entire days avoiding the motley squads of men and women rather than making her way forwards as she should have been.
This was one such day, hidden in the dried stump of a lightning-struck tree, listening to them pass in and out of earshot constantly. She was sure that their rogues were tracking her in some fashion, though perhaps it was simply Alliance paranoia when they referred to the possibility of Horde infiltrating the area. She doubted she would be so lucky; she hadn't been so far.
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In the time since the Cataclysm, the Alliance had lost their stronghold on Hillsbrad Foothills, Southshore. The damn sea might as well have opened up and swallowed the whole settlement with the way that the tidal wave created by Deathwing's emergence had come over the small town. Fortunately, there was a recent demand by King Varian Wrynn to reclaim a foothold in the foothills and Alliance heroes from far and wide had answered the call. One such 'hero' was Ivan Raelthorne. Ivan was far from a real hero, though. In fact, before Gilneas had closed down her ports and shut the great wall, Ivan had been a pirate captain. His ship had been docked in Gilneas when the ports were locked down and he had become trapped there during the spread of the worgen curse.
He didn't answer to Varian Wrynn, or any king for that matter. He did, however, answer to the sweet jingle of the coin that was offered in compensation for aiding the effort. If he happened to find anything nice on the dead Horde then that was a nice bonus too. What? You can't possibly think that looting a couple of bodies was below an old sea dog like Captain Raelthorne. In fact, he had been rummaging through the coin purse of a dead orc when she caught his eye.
There, darting between the trees below the ridge upon which Ivan stood, was a blood elf woman. Her beauty was almost hypnotizing, as was the way her leathers hugged her womanly form and the way that her stark-silver hair blew in the gentle breeze. Normally, a live captive would be a lot of trouble and not much worth the effort, but Ivan was prepared to make an exception if this woman looked as good up close as she did from this distance.
"Well aren't you a tasty little treat," the human mused to himself. The irony of the remark brought a smirk to his lips as he slipped into the shadows of the trees and began to make his way towards the elven woman. As he grew near, it became obvious that she would stand little chance against him in a direct confrontation. Even in his human form, Ivan was about six feet and four inches tall, which was several inches taller than the tallest elven women - well, of this kind of elf, anyway. He was about a foot taller than 'average' high elven and blood elven woman.
Aside from his height, he was just much more muscular. Overpowering this woman would be an easy feat. He just needed to wait for the most opportune moment to strike...</s>
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Even before the scene faded from black, the sound betrayed what was happening: the moaning of a woman, the panting of a man, the slapping of their flesh coming together. And as the picture did come into view, any remaining doubt was removed: this wasn't some fuzzy-filtered rolling around in the sheets, but raw, unrestrained, genuine. The sudden little gasp perhaps matched similar gasps from those watching but this was one of pleasure and excitement, not shock and consternation. The slow steady zoom confirmed this was no mere sex scene as it captured a flash of thick, tumescent flesh disappearing between two pert cheeks, stretching out the tightest of holes.
Juliana was on her hands and knees at the end of a large bed, sheets swept to the side. Her exquisite figure was on display: shapely rear hiked up and breasts bouncing aloft, while her narrow back dipped in a shapely curve. Her purple gown had been pulled free of her shoulders and lifted over her waist, leaving in bunched in the middle between a sandwich of her nakedness, though her smooth skin was also adorned with many bangles and bracelets, necklaces and pendants, a mixture of gold and silver and sparkling gems which contrasted to her soft features. Her face was delicately made up, and currently caught in an expression of enraptured bliss as she let out another gasp; her mid length blonde hair was a little astray, not helped by the loose fistful gathered up in a grasping hand.
It was a slow, but vigorous scene: every thrust was enough to lift her hips in the air, and she sported a cherry-red handprint on a pale buttock. But at the same time, as she slid from her hands to her elbows, breasts squeezing together between her tone arms, Juliana's brown eyes looked up over her shoulder at the man behind her, and seemed touched with a look of almost tender eagerness, of adoration, of obedience. She bit a sliver of lip between her top teeth as she stifled another gasp, eyes never breaking their sultry gaze even as another steady thrust filled her so completely, looking up longingly at the man dressed only in one thing: the Crown of the Emperor.
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The man's crowned head tilted this way and that, missing sight of the loving, sultry gaze boring unto him by the beauty in his bed. The camera would switch between his face and her pale, curved back, blonde tresses spilling part upon her shoulders and part bobbing freely. It showed his face again, then switched back to a place lower now, lingering on the heart-shaped soft bottom that splayed in the center, leaving no question as to which place in her body the young woman was accepting him in. The moment then was one captured and held at length, the image of a shaft driving deep into her buttocks holding for a good forty seconds straight. She wasn't rapidly being taken, but rather at a solid pace, with each strong thrust firm, meaningful, causing a bounce of the woman's body in response. After those forty seconds the man leaned back a bit, still in the same position, giving the overhead camera a better view as he lifted his hips and the young woman pushed back onto him. Thirty seconds of this now.
It was vulgar, it was so, so different, and it was real. Did it make viewers uncomfortable? Good. Did it make them uncomfortable in abadway? The camera went back to the Emperor's face which was looking randomly about the room, tilting this way and that, grinning, labored breaths coursing through his lungs. Then he looked down, and upon catching sight of his young, beautiful niece staring up at him, his face brightened even more and his body leaned forward, still maintaining its rhythmic thrusts, curling over top her back. One arm came to rest its hand on her shoulder. The other came to cup the outside of Juliana's cheek, which he held lightly while giving her a soft, sweet closed-mouth kiss. The other hand left her shoulder then, dipping around her side to beneath her, to cup her right breast, holding its wonderful mound of flesh in his palm whilst its twin swayed freely.
In the distance, very, very faintly, birds were chirping. Light shone in brightly through windows, cascading down on one part of the bed and various parts of the floor. The new day was well into its morning but before it was time to embrace the world it was time for sweet, deep anal between uncle and niece. It did not matter that guards stood watch outside the door and likely heard some of the louder mewls from her more delicate frame. It did not matter that the sounds of sex, that the constant slapping of his firmed up sac against her firm rear cheeks challenged their respective gasps and grunts to be the greater part of the room's din. It did not matter that they were related by blood, and held the titles of Emperor and Princess of Rome, respectively. The two loved as strongly as they lusted, and with several more kisses between them, it was easily made clear that the tasks of the day would wait until they had finished.</s>
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Eight Fifty-Two.
It was Saturday. ...Saturdays were pointless. Well they had a point, but not in the way teenagers spent them. Saturdays were to be another day of doing - of study, of research. Of experimentation. Even if your field was not science, it was another day to devote oneself to betterment. To your cause!Not hot dogs and movies. But whatever. The world needs its fools.
Hojo looked at the time. Official notices had been given to four different students last night - he'd double-checked on that - which was plenty of time. Since then everything in the lab had been double- and triple-checked, and sterilized again, not that it needed it. As far as the SeeD students were concerned, they were four of the best; the brightest, strongest and most attractive that the Garden had to offer, whether they knew it or not, which led to each being cherry-picked for this special project.
Normally Professor Hojo's works at the Garden, a place named Jenova High, were largely kept under wraps. Whispered rumors and brief glances through a window as they passed by were the extent of what most people knew of the specifics; though he was head of the Garden's Science Department, people were generally only admitted into his lab on a need-to-be basis, other than the Headmaster and he himself.
The room was wide, and long, similar to a gymnasium, except its cool whites and stainless steels hardly spoke of this as a place of athleticism. It was separated into several open areas. On one half, the half closer to the double doors where you came in, there were several rows of tables set up. Most were adorned with beakers and tubes, open books and simmering flames. One looked like an examination table, white leather straps and a clean scalpel laid out on its otherwise sterile top. The other half of the room was a large open floor, curious in that there was nothing to it except some markings making a large square all along its edge. To the far wall of the room were numerous chalkboards and computers set up at desks. The immediate wall when you first walked in had several large clear pods in tandem, large enough for a human, looking like some eerie futuristic form of an old style phone booth in a way, curved white bench to sit on and everything, though there was nothing else in the open pods other than that. Finally on one side of the room a hallway led off, though without going, who really knew where.
Hojo checked the time again. Eight Fifty-Three. The four girls were due at Nine. "Hmm," he breathed to himself, flipping through sheets on his clipboard. On it were contained profiles of each of the students as well as data on several of his planned projects. Excess time like this was irritable. It only led to reconsidering which test subject and experiment he wanted to go with first.
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"I don't want to be here," whined the blonde, practically stamping her feet against the ground. Each movement caused her long, orange scarf to bob about her, causing the tightly braided yellow hair to clink and clank against one another, the various baubles that had been woven in knocking against one another.Rikku may have been a SEED, one of the school's elite fighting force, specifically trained to fight against the worst of odds, she may have been a thief who'd gone on more daring missions than even some of the most battle-hardened veterans, and she may have been skilled enough in combat to be worrisome to most monsters, but she was still very much a teenage girl.
Of course, most people looking would think that was all there was to her. Cute little blonde Rikku could not look more teenage girl if she wore a sign around her neck that proclaimed her to be one. From the top of her golden hair to the swirling green eyes to the cute little shoes she wore on her feet, Rikku looked every inch the teenage girl. She had the perfect slim build, the bouncy... disposition ,and the firm, young breasts of a teenage girl as well. As required, she wore the school uniform, though like the rest of SEED, she'd heavily modified hers. This meant a lot of warm colors, particularly yellow and orange, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a top so low that you could see her perky cleavage all too well.
She'd actually gotten to the school last, the other requested SEEds having beaten her there. From the looks of it, Selphie had been waiting hours. The other girl was all smiles and cheers, actually handing out coffees to the other girls, extending one even to the whining Rikku. Her cute brown hair stuck out at an odd angle, but it framed a face that almost screamed "classmate down the hall you didn't want to know you had a crush on." Like Rikku, she favored warm colors, specifically yellow. She was thinner than the other girl though, which was saying something, and her breasts were about two sizes smaller, practically nonexistent. Some, including Rikku from time to time, would tease Selphie about having the body of a preteen boy. That didn't make her any less a teenage girl, of course, but it did give her something of an inferiority complex.
Though next to Tifa, nearly any girl would have a complex. Someone had blessed Tifa with an abundance of breasts, and no matter what she did, the eyes always went straight toward them. The rest of her was rock hard, lean and tough, thanks to hours upon hours of hard, physical training. This did help her breasts remain almost unnaturally perky, not to mention firm. Genetics had provided her with a near perfect hourglass figure though, not to mention thick, black hair that she wore in a loose ponytail that bobbed about her waist. She usually tried to be friendly and all, but she still seemed fairly consistently distracted. Pretty well everyone knew the reason why, but mentioning it would just get a waved off hand; pressing would result in a punch, and Tifa punched hard enough to bend steel, her own personal little trick. The most physical of the group by far, Tifa could and had wrestled monsters to the ground and beaten them to a pulp. None of the other girls had ever beaten her, though the last had come close.
Yunahad taken a bag from her cousin Rikku and ducked behind a dumpster to change. The others, used to this, had sighed and formed something of a wall, though Rikku continued whining throughout most of it. Yuna didn't look it, but she had more power than most of the rest of her companions. She had the genetic disposition toward dealing with the various elemental beings that inhabited their world, and was said to even be able to control them. Were that not enough, she'd learned how to dual-wield a set of pistols with remarkable efficacy. To top this off, she had probably the softest, curviest body of the group, though her bust didn't come near to topping Tifa's own. Her legs matched the brawler's though, only where Tifa's were all hard muscle, Yuna's had a softness. Her plump rear had just the right amount of firmness too, and her hips had the gentle curve of womanhood. She looked sweet and innocent, though the outfit she walked out with didn't seem to quite match. The girl smiled nervously as she reached up to adjust a braided tail that hung down from her light brown, feathery hair. Her heterochromatic eyes looked at the others.
"Are we ready now?" she asked, nerves leaking into her soft voice.
"You might wanna tuck in your thong there," replied Tifa with a smirk, pointing. Yuna flushed and worked to do precisely that. "You really shouldn't wear the sexy underwear if you don't know how."
"Well, Rikku brought it and--"
"And would you wear anything that Rikku brought?" countered Tifa, raising her brows.
"Probably," chirped Rikku, giggling.
It was left to Selphie to try and shepherd the other girls inside.
Soon all four entered, looking around the room, trying to figure out why Hojo had called them there. Yeah, they were all SEEd, but they were an odd mix. Yuna and Tifa might be considered a few of the more powerful members, but Selphie ranked dangerously near the bottom, and Rikku somewhere in the middle. Their bodies differed as well, with the overlapping similarities seemingly outmatched by differences. As near as they could tell, the only connecting factors were their age, sex, and involvement in SEEd.
"Hojo probably just feels lonely or something," suggested Rikku, giggling. "He wants a few pretty girls to make his lab look all bright and shiny."
"Them, um, why did he call SEEd?" Yuna wondered. She folded her arms behind her back and held back, looking around nervously. "This place is kind of unnerving, isn't it?"
"It's not that bad," said Tifa, sauntering forward. "Not like we haven't been in worse situations."
"exactly," said Selphie, nodding.
Rikku had shot forward though, causing them all to look that direction. "There's pods here or something!" she called, stretching up on her toes to look inside. "Maybe he wants to try and flash-freeze a buncha teenage girls?" she giggled at the thought.
Yuna still didn't move, not until Selphie got behind her and started pushing. By the time Yuna got to the tubes, Rikku had started poking around to see if she could open one, while Tifa tapped another. Selphie left Yuna to investigate on her own, while all four couldn't help but wonder just what these were and, again, why Hojo had asked for the four of them to come there today, on a day off, no less.</s>
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The incident that had become formally known as 'Armageddon' had naturally fucked up the realms previously involved in the different Mortal Kombat tournaments. When the creature called Blaze appeared, setting forth a challenge that would forever shape the dimensional barriers, every warrior had rushed for his pyramid to compete for dominance. When the dust cleared and the blood washed away, it was Sheeva the four-armed Shokan who stood triumphant. The muscular beauty had been flooded with divine power, and with that might she was able to tailor the realms and those that inhabited them to her whims.
The news of a new captive reached her ear, carried to her by Kitana. Sheeva had wasted no time heading down to the expansive dungeons under the surface of her palace. Down the cobbled path she walked, toward the chained-up green-skinned figure in one large cell. Tall and muscular, just as Sheeva was. She had fought valiantly after tumbling into Outworld, and as such she had been doused with a special potion to limit her strength a bit. "So you are the jade warrior?" Sheeva asked, placing her lower hands on her hips while her upper arms crossed under her DD breasts.
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She didn't see what hit her and it happened so very fast. For all her powers and ability, Jennifer was caught by surprise. How and why, she didn't know. One moment, she was out late at night for a light jogging when she stumbled into the black depth of a forest in a park. The next moment, she woke up groaning. After her vision became no longer blurred, Jennifer tried to move only to wince in pain and realized both her wrists were shackled above her head.
"Uhg, god, what in the hell?" she grumbled. "Did... Someone get the number of that truck," she continued, but her rambling went silently dead when a pair of big hands groped both her green mammilian jugs. She let out a gasp. Looking down, she still retained her white fingerless gloves and long wrist band, thick Hooter's style socks and sneakers, and her underboob sleevless turtleneck. The only thing she discovered was missing was a pair of purple thongs. Now her green slab of tree trunk was hanging out. Growling, she tried to struggle but in her weakened condition, Jennifer started to panic and tried to turn around to see who was checking her Amazonian frame.
"Hey, who the Hell are you, and what the heck do you think you're doing pal!" she growled.</s>
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The dark thick black clouds oozed over the house on the hill. It casted a shadowy darkness across Vannacutt Psychiatric Institute for the Criminally Insane; the only place where nightmares came true. A jagged bolt of lightening ripped the night sky in half as icy raindrops poured below. The ocean was violent crashing its waves upon the very settlement the institute was built upon. Thunder rolled across the sky seeming to crack the world in half as below near the entrance you could see a white van and two police officers bringing in a young man. They rushed him through the doors as nurses in white with caps could be seen running to aid. The lights flickered with every crash of thunder outside.
A girl stood in barefooted in scrubs and a t-shirt with a cardigan wrapped around. Her face was deathly pale as if she hadnt seen light in years and besides through a window she hadnt. Her eyes had shadows and were bloodshot but still she held a dark beauty. Standing in the hallway she could see the nurses trying to calm the new patient. She knew what ever he did to get here was either a lie or horrible and that he would probably never see the outside world again. She could hear his screaming and it made her cringe and she backed up. She saw a nurse administer a sedative and in seconds his flailing body went limp as he was thrown on a gurney and strapped down. Keys were heard opening the doors to the hall. They came through and a nurse encouraged her to back up as they rolled him down the hall. She didnt move as another nurse grabbed her and pulled her back as she saw the new patient. He was young, the face of a helpless boy. What had he done? She was drawn to his face as the nurse was yelling and pulling her back. He vanished behind the next corridor.
Zoey. what on earth is wrong with you, come now. Lets get you back to your room. The nurse said guiding her down another corridor. She rubbed her shoulders as not all the staff here as cold and cruel. Actually most was pretty reasonable. Your freezing.let me get you some heated thermal blankets and how about some hot cocoa.hmmm, then were take some medicine and sleep through this dreary storm. The nurse patted her back and helped her into her dimly lit room. All that was in it was an old metal bed with white sheets; there was a sink on the other side of the room. As the nurse left the lights flickered and she was left sitting on the bed wondering who that boy was as the storm raged on.
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After another long night of 'Full-Service', Johnny was on his last customer. He gingerly placed the pump back in its holster as he turned to his Customers. A car filled with a family of four, and an old station wagon. The Man reached into his pocket and sighed, saying in a scalding manner.
Man - "$3.50 for a tank... You guys are outside your minds..."
Johnny, turned to him after handing the man his change for the five dollars. The light buzzing above him flickered some from age.
Johnny - "Inflation, Sir. It will be going up from 30 cents soon enough, I'm sure..."
The man sped off, Johnny let out a tired sigh from working all day, the usual clientele in and out, just like every other. He walked into the garage where a few cars were parked, some with their hoods open, others not. He looked them over before putting the last of the day's money in a lock box and shoving it under the desk for his boss, Mr. Simmons, to count up and add to the safe in the morning.
Johnny grabbed his jacket from the chair he was sitting on and shut off the light in the garage, after checking on the guard dog, two black labs, and giving them food and water for the night. Johnny pulled down the garage door and locked it tight, as he did every night.
He lived not very far from the station, recently having to relocate due to his current relationship with a woman of a different color, Alma. She was her name, a young black woman who, like Johnny, had been disowned by her family for her love of Johnny.
As he arrived home, dinner was had followed by a session of lovemaking. It was very passionate on the night before they were to be wed. As they lay there, a gentle wind blew in from the open window near by. He let out a soft smile as did she.
Alma - "Johnny... Do you think society will ever let us be together?"
He smiled at her and contemplated for a moment, then sighed and spoke up.
Johnny - "I do so hope baby... Maybe one day this world will see what I see... A beautiful heart."
She smiled and gave him a light peck before running off to the kitchen, as he lay there. He let out a sigh when a light flashed into the bedroom window, he popped up suddenly grabbing his pants and a shotgun from under the bed, He ran to the living room when Alam's voice screamed out for him, he looked in every room before being lead outside where the light shone down from the sky, firing into the sky her voice now came from the house again, He ran inside.
As he did, a deafening noise bgan as the light grew inside the home he was pushed to the floor by force, Soon he was in an all white room surrounded by strange grey beings tall, short, fat skinny, all kinds he saw Alma, her screams were muted as she was being exmained, the fear grew as they implanted some razor thin device in his neck, he blacked out soon after....
He woke up, in a large van, his arms and feet bound his clothes covered in blood, most his own the rest, god only knows he was drug out of the van by two large men the rain poured down as his head was covered with a blanket, he was shoved inside where many looked on in fear, including Zoey, and Grace, he was quickly sedated and strapped to a bed and wheeled away from the frightened on lookers.
He awoke in a white room surrounded by doctors and nurses.
"Where is she!? where's Alma!!!??"
He screamed as he Doctor pushed him back down, Before looking him over still.
??? - "Don't worry son....I'm sure she is somewhere, we will find here..."
He said in a sarcastic manner, Knowing what Johnny was sent here for, a Psych evluation, To see if he was indeed who they were looking for.
??? - "We will find her, and the other 10 women you slaughtered."
Johnny's eyes widened as he tried to sit up and speak, but before he could he was injected with Sedative, His body lay back on the bed trying to scream but he slowly quieted down staring at the good doctor the whole time.
"What happened to me?....What did i do? if i did anything?....Why am i here!?"
HE shouted to himself as lightening crashed and he passed out.</s>
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"It's showtime! Are you ready?" Grinning in place, the crowd went wild as Risette struck her customary victory pose, microphone in hand. The lights were flickering on and off, swinging wildly, and then she brought the mic up to her mouth as the music kicked in. Club Escapade was full to the ceiling with her fans. She'd gotten a lot of them since returning to the life of an idol after Inaba, and after her show had gotten cancelled way back then, she'd always promised to come back and make up for it. Now that she knew what had caused that blackout in the first place, it was even more important that she kept her promise.
Risette danced, jumped, moved her arms and hips, getting the crowd pumped. The backup band wasn't too shabby, at all, either. By the end of the set she was sweaty, exhausted, but thrumming with exuberant energy. Someone shouted "We love you Risette!" and she laughed, winking, and caught sight of a familiarly tousled head of hair that she hadn't seen in -- Gosh, forever. Her lips made a perfect moue, but she couldn't simply call out his name like that. The crowd would totally freak out.
Instead she took her bow and went off stage, snagging a security guard as she did so, whispering, "Hey, you see that cute boy in the back next to the door? Bring him backstage in a bit." She definitely needed a shower first.
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Ken watched the show from the back of the club with a small smile on his face. He wasn't much of a partyer or club-goer, but when he heard Risette was going to be the main attraction tonight, all the Shadows in Tarturus would have been unable to keep him away.
He was a senior at Gekkokan High now, and he had met Rise a few years ago. He formed a crush on her almost at once. She was so charming, funny and down to earth, all of which were qualities that appealed to him. Not to mention the fact that she was downright stunning. He blushed slightly as he watched Rise dance and sing on stage. He was of that age now where suggestive thoughts were entering his mind and he certainly had a few about the idol on stage.
He could have sworn he saw her wink at him, directly at him. Did she remember him after so long? That would be news to him. As the show ended and Rise left, Ken lingered around, wondering if he should try to talk to her in any way. He let out a sigh as he decided against it and got ready to leave, but then a guard pulled him aside and told him Rise wanted to see him backstage.
He stammered out an affirmative and the guard escorted backstage to wait outside Rise's dressing room. He could hear the running of the shower and his blush intensified. Knowing that one of the most, if not the most beautiful girl in existence was showering not far away was enough to make the young man aroused.</s>
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It was moments like this that made Max reconsider his life. The choice to move out to Los Santos from Vice had seemed like the smart thing to do for an intelligent young man looking to make it in the entertainment world as a screen writer. But after two and a half years of doing whatever random jobs he could find, living in a shitty little apartment in a neighborhood with bars on the windows and having to keep a cheap gun in the table by the front door. Most people found themselves at the Vanilla Unicorn on a Tuesday night to enjoy the girls and the drinks.
Max found himself there for the cheap All-You-Can-Eat all night buffet. He had just wrapped a fourteen hour shift doing security work at the Richard's Majestic lot, so far the closest he'd gotten to any studio. The bus ride back to this part of town had been fairly empty but he had kept his hand in pack the whole way where he had kept gun just in case someone decided he looked like easy pray.
Max was a tall guy standing over six feet tall with a wirey build, a shaggy mane of sandy colored hair, his features thin and narrow and he sported a pair of narrow, rectangular rimmed glasses.
He chased a stray bit of pasta around his plate with his fork, glancing up for a moment at the main stage before slouching more in his seat.
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The story of moving to Los Santos with big dreams was definitely not one that was unique in the large, glamorous city. It was a story that many desperate failed actors and directors could say, all with film degrees they would never use and crippling amounts of debt, be it student or worse, debt to one of the many criminal enterprises around the city that victimized these desperate individuals. A weekday night strip club was definitely a good place to find these kind of people, and the curly-haired redhead was no exception.
Sandy Davis got quite a few looks as she walked inside of the club. She looked far more like one of the women on the pole than the clientele mostly of creepy, middle-aged men. She was a sight to see, with 5'6 of lightly tanned skin accompanied by wide hips that pressed her dress out and DD-cup breasts contained in the decently high neckline of her dress. Long curls of dark red hair flowed down her shoulders and framed her dull grey eyes. A few of the male clients came up for her looks as she walked in, but much to their chagrin she didn't go for the changing room or the pole, but instead plopped down in a chair next to the youngest male that she could find at the club.
Her reason for entering the club was simple. She was tired and needed a place to sit down and the club offered no cover and maybe a male who would buy her a few drinks. With a sigh she plopped down in the chair and looked up to see a young blonde trying to put herself through college wiggling her hips back and forth. How's the food? Sandy muttered to the male sitting to her right.</s>
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Mio stepped through the door to her new apartment and looked around with a small smile. The house was fully furnished already, and it even had a television, not that she watched much of it since she was usually with the rest of Hokago Tea Time.
It had been a year since Mio started college and for the most part, she had gotten into a good rhythm. She had classes Monday through Thursday, Friday and Saturday were practice days and Sunday was a day she relaxed. But the thin walls of the girls' dormitories were too much for her and she wanted some actual peace and quiet for once.
Luckily for her, Mio had found a flyer of a person seeking a roommate, and it was across the street from the university too. It was also only 18,000 Yen a month as well.
Sadly, Mio hadn't done any laundry lately so she was left in her old school uniform from the summertime. The shirt-sleeved blouse with a blue bow tie, a grey skirt and black socks and shoes. In two of her hands were her bags of clothing, and on her back was her Fender bass, which had been named Elizabeth.
Stepping through, Mio removed her shoes before looking around in the living room. "H-Hello! I'm here!"
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Kairu was a member of a school band that he had joined during the last days of school before Summer vacation as the drummer of the band, but now he was living alone in an apartment for a while already and it was time to stop being alone and have a new roommate so he could have some fun. It wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to and hang out with besides his band members when they met up for practice mostly on the weekends. Right now he was in his room, fixing and organizing all his band things, making sure he had all his sticks and his drums were clean and they sounded right. He turned quietly to hear a noise from the living room, "hmm someone took his offer and it was a girl too so that was a plus. Kairu smiled and slowly stood up, walking into the living room to see her.
"Hey...nice to meet you...you must be my new roommate right?" He said knowing she would of course say yes. "Just follow me and I'll show you your own room." He nodded and walked down the hall, turning to a closed door that was across from his open door where a drum was sitting in the middle of his room. "This is yours." He said opening it and leaning back against the wall. There was a large closet, a desk, and a large bed that had a small nightstand and lamp on it.</s>
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By this point, the painted surface of her ceiling was starting to burn into her retinas. She had been lying there all damn morning and hadn't even mustered up the energy to move yet. Annacouldn't explain it really, this general sensation of fatigue filling her to the brim and making all her muscles simmer with some soreness. At first, when she awoke, she had considered it to be a fever which was far from uncommon in Arendelle.
Now that seemed far from the case. The redhead could only lie there, dressed in silk purple pyjamas that covered much of her womanly body while her red hair fanned wide and loose beneath her. Her skin was getting clammy with sweat, her breathing growing more laboured, and more than once she'd shoo'd off one of the castle staff. She felt bad doing it of course, but whatever illness this was it left Anna in no mood to be civil.
As morning turned to afternoon Anna was still lying in bed, the sheets kicked off and left pooled on the carpet. The staff would come and go to Elsa, reporting of more groanings coming from her chambers and her continued refusal to leave her room.
Stranger still, soon more of the servants were coming to Elsa and reporting of rippling heat waves becoming visible in the corridor just outside Anna's room. Strange to say the least, and what neither sister could know was how much stranger this was all going to get.
Lying back on the cosy mattress Anna turned her head and let her cyan eyes settle on the glass double doors leading to her balcony. Fogged up from a steam she couldn't see. "Weird..." the princess croaked.
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Unlike her sister, Queen Elsa still had a kingdom to run. The icy blonde had spent her entire morning fending off various political issues, issuing proclamations, and just generally making certain that Arandelle stayed peaceful and prosperous. The queen had received a few notices from servants that her sister hadn't left her bed but, well, Anna had been known to sleep in quite late in the past. True, she'd gotten significantly better since the whole incident with Elsa coming out and all. Though Elsa thought she recalled Kristoff visiting the night before.
So she didn't really think much about it. She thought a good deal more as Anna missed lunch. Anna may miss several things through sleeping or avoidance, but meals were generally not among them. Elsa might skip a meal or two, mostly out of business or because she accidentally (or "accidentally") froze a meal, but Anna ate rather regularly. In fact, the staff informed Elsa that Anna hadn't taken food for most of the day. Anna did occasionally squirrel away food though, and Elsa did have duties of her own to attend to.
Which actually left things up to Olaf, who'd been visiting at the time. The perky snowman had come to inform Elsa that things were not right with her sister. The first clue had been that Olaf appeared to be about a third melted despite the spell that Elsa had cast over him. From there, Elsa heard from the castle staff that there had been heat waves. So the queen figured now was the time to check on her sister.
Fearing that Anna may be quite sick, Elsa opted to change into a more demure and rough dress than her normal flowing ones. This one still happened to be teal blue, but probably wouldn't have looked out of place in a peasant's wardrobe. It cinched around Elsa's thin waist fairly well, and covered enough of her. The ice blonde hair had been tied up and pulled back, and Elsa was ready to go.
Or so she thought.
The heat waves proved difficult, and Elsa had to actively expend her own magic in order to get close. She'd cooled the doorknob and then forced her way into the room. "Anna? I'm coming in!" she said, leaning forward to look around the edge. "Can you tell me what's going on here? There's an awful lot of heat for this time of year," so much that Elsa could actually feel sweat beading on her brow, something she hadn't felt for a very, very long time.</s>
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Lady Termaine's School for Girls was falling silent on the freezing winter night. Female students from ages six to eighteen were falling asleep in their beds. The school had grown since it was established in 1893. Since then three additional buildings had been added to the campus. In one of the outer buildings one particular woman was toweling off from a hot shower. Across her shoulders lay her towel hiding her nipples while still showing off her round breast. She pulled on black yoga shorts that had a decorative green band. "Did I really forget my shirt?" She frowned looking around the steaming bathroom and sighed seeing that she did. Shaking her head, she left the bathroom after gathering her dirty clothes and towel and quickly hurried to her room down the hall. A flip of the light switch and the room was a glow from a bright lamp in the far corner. Tossing the bundle of dirty clothes and towel on her shoulder to the floor, she opened a drawer and pulled out a large white t-shirt that had Run DMC across the front with the members of the group near the bottom.
The young woman was a Teacher's Assistant in the Math Department. She was finishing the last part of her degree that would get her to being a real teacher. There were times when she was mistaken as an upperclass student due to her young features. Stepping out of her room, she saw two girls giggling at one end. "Hey! It's past lights out, do you really want a detention?" She called out, seeing them freeze. "No Natalie." They sighed annoyed that she had caught them.Natalie Bernet was twenty-two years old and in addition to being a TA, she was also a mentor to the girls and monitored a few of the floors in the building, making sure the girls got along and stayed relatively happy. Like most nights, Nataile was walking the halls, making sure all her girls were in bed and not up and getting into trouble like the two she had seen not long ago. She started on the floor beneath her own, peeking into each room and then moved onto her floor. Starting at the end of the hall where some of the young girls stayed and would slowly make her way to the end of the hall. She expected it to be a quiet night, but expectations didn't always turn out the way one hopes.
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The darkness watched her quietly... A shadow of hidden desire... It slowly followed her across the floor down the tile hallway, hiding under her feet with each step... She was beautiful... It longed to touch her, to feel her, to smell her... Oh yes...
But it was patient. The shadow merely followed and waited... It was weak in the bright fluorescent lights of the hallway. And so it waited. The young teacher's assistant unlocked her door with a coded card key, and stepped into the room. The shadow followed her, and with blinding speed, it slithered up the wall and behind the wall light switch place, severing the power wires, bathing her room in darkness...
It then flowed outward like an inky velvet blanket across her bed, eager to envelop the gorgeous woman in its dark embrace, completely hidden in the lightless environment.
It waited for the girl to test the light switch several times... The darkness heard her rich voice utter a few choice obscenities... It waited patiently for her to get close enough to the bed, at which point it would strike... And she did. The shadow lashed out with a black velvet tentacle, wrapping around her leg tightly. She struggled, but it was immensely powerful. It managed to cover her mouth quickly before she could scream, and pulled her down tightly onto her bed. Its black fold caressing and fondling every part of her body with complete abandon...
A sultry, masculine voice emanated from the direction of her desk. "Let her go..."
Abruptly, the light came flickering on. The Shadow emitted an ear piercing scream of extreme torment... It tried to dash out of the open window, only to have it slam shut... It attempted to hide in a drawer, but it suddenly closed as well...
A black leather gloved hand reached out and grabbed an inky back tentacle of the shadow, and held it tightly...
The hand belonged to a mysterious young man who was perched on his tip toes, high on the back of her wooden desk chair. He was clad in dark clothing, with longish shiny black hair that framed his eyes. His mouth smiled cruelly, his lower lip framed by two snakebite type piercings. And oddly enough, he did not cast a shadow of his own...
"Hello my shadow," He murmured to the writhing insubstantial darkness flailing before him... "Just what have you been up to?"</s>
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