#which; in fairness; is no longer her specialty

[viksalos]

in about 5 sessions with my therapist we went from "you can't possibly be autistic because you're not like the nonverbal high support needs teenage boys i worked with in the early 2000s," to me digging up my childhood psychological records from the early 2000s and convincing her, to her presenting my case to her supervisor and her supervisor being like "yeah you had an undiagnosed autistic client on your hands and she needs to be transferred to someone qualified to handle that" lmao

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

-

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!” 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

⌑ series masterlist

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[cerise-on-top]

HELOOOOOOO IM BACKKK

can we get some Valeria Garza headcanons? :p

LOVE UR WORK AS ALWAYS DRINK WATER BYEBYEEE

-☁️

Hello! Welcome back :> I wasn't sure if you wanted general HCs or romantic ones, so I did both! I hope they're enjoyable! In regards to these HCs, there's one mention of drugs, but the HCs are about Valeria, so that's to be expected!

Also, to anyone reading this: Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays! I'm saying this today because in my country we celebrate Christmas today and not on the 25th! I'm wishing you all a few lovely days ahead :-)

General:

Playing games of any kind with her is actually infuriating and almost unfair. You’d think games like Monopoly would be fair since it’s based on luck for the most part, but no. I can assure you Valeria could set a world record on beating someone at Monopoly. But it’s not just that game either. You wanna poker with her? Tycoon? Sixty-Six? Granted, they require some skill as well, but she uses her nogging on a daily basis, so it’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. And even if you only explained the rules to her once, she’ll beat you soon enough. Might also be prone to cheating, but you’ll only ever accuse her of doing so whenever she actually wasn’t. It’s not illegal or forbidden if no one ever finds out. The stakes can be pretty high, she’s not afraid to play for money either. But I advise you to maybe play over gummy bears or lollipops or something. She won’t be happy, she will complain, but it beats losing all your money to a businesswoman of her caliber.

When she was a kid she actually didn’t mind Christmas all that much, she quite liked it. It was colorful, it was bright, it was nice. Her parents may not have been the richest people, but she usually got what she wanted for Christmas as well, so it wasn’t a particularly sad time for her back then. Even now her cartel is doing well during that time since people like to fill the gaping holes within their hearts with drugs so they won’t have to think about being alone and freezing during such a festive time. She doesn’t get jolly like she used to, she won’t even wear a Christmas hat, but she can appreciate Christmas, if just for her earning a bit more money than she normally would. You can even give her gifts during this time. Depending on who they’re from and what it is, she might just throw them away, but if it’s something nice from someone she’s close with then she might just keep it for a little while longer. Although Valeria would never admit it, she does like cookies quite a lot. She can’t bake particularly well, not that she has the time for that either, but that won’t stop her from eating a few whenever she receives some from a trustworthy source. There is an elderly lady in Las Almas who she likes to buy them from occasionally. That lady is a real sweetheart, so Valeria is sure the cookies aren’t poisoned.

No one ever gets to enjoy it anymore these days, but Valeria can cook pretty well. She learned how to very early on so she could relieve her mother a bit from her burdens, but it stuck with her. She has a real knack for how much spice you put in which dish. Yes, she’s a bit rusty since she hasn’t cooked for herself in quite a while, but if you’re her s/o and you’re sick, you might just receive some birria or carne guisada. It’ll be unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. Her food is a bit spicy, so if you’re not used to spicy food it can and will leave you teary eyed, but it’s really good. Naturally, her specialties include, for the most part, Mexican dishes only. But, in theory, you could give her any recipe and it would turn out just fine. Except for anything sweet. Sweets she cannot do at all, they’ll always turn out terrible. It used to get to her when she was young, but these days she couldn’t care less. She isn’t anyone’s housewife, so why should she care? Back in the day when she still had time for dating someone properly, a telltale sign she was mad at you would be her cooking for you, but making it unbearably spicy. Valeria could always eat it, she can eat any spicy pepper as a snack just like that and not be bothered at all.

Romantic:

It doesn’t matter who you are, Valeria will always be the dominant person among the two of you. Her personality alone won’t allow for much else, but there are also other circumstances as well. Besides, she’s been in the military and she can tell you from experience that the people there don’t think too highly of women. Ergo she wants to prove herself to be above those morons, especially Alejandro. While she might not be affectionate at all in public, it’s the small things in private that really show you who’s in control. Beckoning you closer with her finger, telling you how much of a good thing you are for her, moving you a bit so she can get to something she needs. Granted, it’s nothing big, she won’t put a collar on you, but she will do what she can to make you feel smaller than you actually are. It doesn’t matter if you’re 1,50m or 2m tall, whether you’re looking up at her or down on her, you will treat her with utmost respect. While she might seem degrading or mocking very often, she does take your feelings into account as well. If her being mean to you genuinely hurts you then she will do what she can to tone it down a bit. She won’t stop entirely, but she’ll better herself. You’re welcome to sass her back a bit, though. If it’s just some light joking around she won’t mind. Sass her back too hard and you will be put into place, though.

Going off of one of the previous points I made: Once Valeria loves you, she is completely and entirely committed to you. It doesn’t matter what you want, you’ll get it within days. You want someone’s head? Absolutely, no questions asked. Even something smaller, such as some clothing, jewelry, a video game console, a plushie. You name it, you’ll get it. You’re her everything in this rotten world, of course she’ll do what she can to keep you happy. And if one of those goons from the army ever tries to hurt you, then even the ninth layer of hell will seem like the greatest mercy the heavens and hell could muster. She’s fiercely protective over you. While she won’t kidnap you, she wants to keep you happy, after all, she will try to convince you to live with her. Somewhere in a place no one knows about, where it’s only you and her without a worry for those two pests, Alejandro and Rodolfo. If you ever were to meet those two then I can assure you, you’ll never see Valeria this angry again. She loathes those two men with her entire being. Not that she has a very high opinion of men to begin with. If one ever decides to lay his grubby, disgusting hands on you, regardless of whether it’s some guy from the streets or the president of the United States, he can say goodbye to his head.

As I said before, she’s a really good cook. In fact, she’s good at just about anything you can think of. Well, almost. Either way, she’d love it if you could cook well. In fact, having someone who’s willing to be a housespouse is a dream come true. She won’t always be able to come home to you immediately, but if she finds you having cooked her a delicious, hearty meal, she’ll be on cloud nine. But even if your food isn’t anything noteworthy she’ll still eat it because it’s from you. She may be a cruel woman at times, but Valeria does care about you and tries not to hurt your feelings too much. At best, not at all. If she comes home to your shared home being well taken care of by you, with you having cleaned all the rooms as well as all the clothes that needed washing, you’ll have earned something nice from her. If you aren’t able to do so, no worries, she can always just hire some personnel to take care of it. But if it was you, then just name what you want from her. You want some cuddles or a kiss? Naturally. Some tres leches or churros? She won’t make them herself, but you can bet she’ll get you some regardless. If she’s especially tired some sweet words might be exchanged as well, but don’t expect her to be like that every time. Sometimes she does want to be a bit sweeter than usual, tell you how grateful she is to have you, but she’s afraid you might think of her a bit less than before, even if it wouldn’t happen. So, while she may not be someone who enjoys giving words of affirmation unless she needs to, you can count on her showing you affection through gift giving and quality time.

[amberrskiies]

Happy Birthday, Levi

Pairing: Leviathan && Amber

Status: Dating

Timeline: Post Nightbringer Lesson 40

Written in honor of Levi's Birthday! Happy Birthday Leviathan!! <333

"I... can't accept your gift..."

Amber was stunned when she heard the Third Born, Avatar of Envy say that to her when she held out the gift for him to take.

Both Amber and Levi were in the human realm at her apartment room. Diavolo thought it would be best if she had gone taken a vacation in her realm after she had been thrown into the past and had been stuck there for months on end.

The brothers would visit her from time to time whenever they had the chance to. Amber had told Levi to come visit her in the Human Realm for something important. That being wanting to celebrate his birthday with him here.

She thought he'd be happy to get a gift from her like he always does but he didn't expect him to reject her gift. Instead of being sad, she could sense something was wrong.

"Levi... Is there something wrong?" She asked him as he refused to make eye-contact with her.

This made her more worried as she set the gift aside as she took one of his hand in hers.

"Levi? Please tell me what's wrong. You're always happy to get a gift for me. Why not now?"

Levi remained silent for a moment before sighing.

"It just... doesn't seem fair." Amber heard him say as she tilted her head in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked to which Levi gently grasped her hand.

"I just don't find it fair to celebrate my birthday because... we weren't able to celebrate yours since you went missing." He inhaled and exhaled before continuing.

"I even planned ahead on the places i wanted to take you on your birthday and i even had a gift for you yet I couldn't give any of those to you..."

Amber heard him trail off as she slowly removed her hand from his to cup one side of his face to make him face her.

"Hey... It's okay. We can still go to those places anytime. We don't have to wait for my birthday and you can still give me my present when we go back to the Devildom."

Levi listened to her before he looked down and sighed, nodding.

"I know we can. I just..." he let out a shaky breath before slowly pulling Amber into a hug, burying his face on her shoulder.

"I missed you... so so much." He mumbled.

He held her tight as if afraid that he'll lose her if he didn't keep her close. Amber gave him a sad look before hugging him back.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry for disappearing out of nowhere... Just know that I'm not going to leave you anytime soon and besides it's hard to get rid of someone like me so easily so you're stuck with me for a long long time!"

That was enough to Levi to crack a smile as he chuckled, lifting his head away from her shoulder to look at her.

"You really know what to say." to which Amber shrugged.

"You could call it a specialty of mine." She giggled, leaning onto him slightly.

Levi's smile widened even more as he played with her hair while remaining in each other's embrace. After a while he spoke up.

"Can we stay like this for a little longer?" Amber heard him as she nodded.

"Of course! Oh and Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"Happy Birthday. I love you." She told him, hugging him once more.

This was enough to make Levi get rid of all his worries, smiling even more as he hugged her back.

"I love you too and thank you... for everything."

A/N - ainofieboeinetn this sounded way better in my head but i tried! So sorry it took so long but i got side tracked heavily!

Tagging: @yourboyhack @attic-club-sandwich @mikasha-9 @arklayraven @aspiringtrashpanda @ithseem @mcx7demonbros @112-darling @juvellianovo @amunetmagic @kitsune-oji

[popcornforone]

Monday Moods

A Pre-Outbreak Joel Miller Fan Fic

I was struggling what as to what I could write next. You all know I have so many in draft but I had a few people go oooh a new Joel… So here we are posting about Joel before his world fell apart. It’s been a while since I’ve written him. I do have another Joel in draft but I’m just not feeling it at the moment.

Synopsis: Your night shift is over & Sarah is off to school, what can you & Joel do to make this less of a moody Monday.

Word count:2550

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF TOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18! PURE SMUT piv sex, stimulation, licking, nipple sucking, teasing, swearing. Slight age gap but not huge, mentions of loss of virginity. This is also based on Pedros Joel & it is before the events of the show. Basically it’s full on sex.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, it’s always really appreciated. All feedback is always welcome, it’s helps me grow as a writer. Enjoy.

“I hate Mondays” slam the front door goes. Sarah might have marched her way out of the house onto the school bus, but she left part of the Monday mood behind with her. Your night shift means you’re already cranky ready for 4 nights off, before the next shift rotation starts. It’s only the sight of your partner coming downstairs that makes you smile. Not even the decaf coffee has done that.

“Was Sarah mean to you?” Joel asks sounding genuinely concerned that the two of you may have fallen out & it’s not even 8am. You’re not her mum. He can see the glazed eyes staring back at him. They are trying to care & be alive for him, but he can tell you’ve just had it now, they need a rest. He slurps on his orange Juice straight from the carton as he leans on the kitchen counter. His morning hair all over the place, not even brushed.

“You’d hate Mondays too if you had double math at the age of 15” you say with a frown as he drinks. He clocks your stern look. The free hand apologising as he then starts to hunt for a glass.

“Fair point, it’s why they teach them advanced math, isn’t math just enough?”

“Clearly not” you reply slurping your coffee, trying not to smirk at his remark. You want to be tired but not angry when you got to bed in a little while. “How many shifts have you got today?” You genuinely ask your lover with care. You’re slowly becoming a bit more like you.

“Just the two, first one doesn’t start until

Mid-day,so I’ve got time to spend with the other special girl in my life” he says as he comes across to you, kissing up your arm.

You look around.

“I don’t see a special girl in here” you joke letting him pepper you with kisses. A nip here or there, making you shudder.

“Well that’s because all the curtains are pulled & there’s no mirror to reflect your special face back at you” his juice & breakfast are no longer what he had an appetite for. His smile insinuating he wants much more than that.

“Joel? really? now?”

“Yes now or it won’t be til I’m dirty & sweaty tonight” he says. His neck kisses always make you give in. You’ve always been putty in his hands.

“Maybe I prefer you like that”

“I think you do, my specialty is to be as scruffy & rough as you want me”

“Speaking of which baby, your T-shirt’s inside out” you chuckle.

You fling your arms around Joel & your lips meet his. He might be rough & rougged, but those hands that he always has to clean, make you feel like the dirtiest thing of all. At just His touch, you feel like you were 17 again, the age you were when he first asked you to babysit his 4 year old 11 years ago. He still gives you butterflies each time he kisses you, like when you first saw him. A teenager with a fantasy when he would drive you home. You were not the reason for Sarah mum leaving but once you came back from college each summer, it was hard for him to not ignore you. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

The kiss breaks & he then stands up & you wrap your legs around him. “I know where this is heading mr miller” you giggle as you bite his ear lobe.

“If you keep biting my earlobe, we won’t even get to bed baby.”

“Well the lounge curtains are still pulled” you raise an eyebrows & Joel reverses into his arm chair before he lowers himself into it. This arm chair is where he watches the big games on a Sunday from. You cook him dinner & then leave for your night shift safe in the knowledge that American football will be the only thing distracting him those nights. His hands even if he wanted them to, don’t wonder else where, only on you.

The rattle of his belt being undone is a noise that always makes you smile. Joel’s never one for foreplay. A few words here & there but if he’s even slightly in the mood, you can guarantee that sex is on its way. You stand up for a few seconds to remove your work trousers & knickers, you wore your pink lace ones to work as a treat for you, but you see the smile creep across Joel’s face when you fling them at him.

“I brought you those last year for Valentine’s Day”

“That you did baby”

“I do believe…” he says as he glides his trousers & his briefs around his ankles & beacons you to come take your seat in his lap again”… that I made you lick yourself out of them that night”

“I would never do that Joel Miller” you exclaim in reply as you smile. It was a wonderful night of love making, thank you to high school for a week long residential trip, so Sarah couldn’t hear the two of you having sex all night. But your mind is back in the present when you see him cock his two fingers at you calling you over . The other hand is leisurely stroking his length looking at you naked from the waist down, wondering just how wet he still makes you. The tip leaking already, as you lick your own bottom lip. You are about to be more than satisfied.

You put your hands on the back of his arm chair & position yourself ready to lower onto his lap & his throbbing meaty cock. When you were still at college & you dated other boys while you were there, none of them had what Joel did, none of them made you scream in pleasure like him either. They all wanted a long blow job, & never finished you off when they’d cum far too soon. You’d had a taste of a manly moody Miller & now it was yours every day if you wanted it. Right now being filled by him is all that’s on your mind. He slowly nudges at your entrance, his length gliding through your arousal. He tuts & shakes his head mischievously.

“I have no idea why I buy lube baby, you’re always so wet for me darling, so eager, so ready” it’s growled from the back of the throat these words as he lowers you into his cock.

“Fuck… me.. Joel” you whimper, as you adjust to his size & the way it stretches you. Your body wanting to cum straight away & make you explode all over him, but you slowly regain your composure. Your eyes filled with desire when you open them & look at the man you love. His eyes light up from seeing your own enjoyment of this moment. The smile across his face is one of desire. Your hands graze across his jaw line. Each prickle of his hair making you want to get lost in your kisses again.

“So tight baby, made for me this pussy, you saved your Cherry for me all those years ago, & im always very grateful for that” Joel lightly slaps your bum which makes you gasp, before his hands go for your hips. They grip on to you ready for you to start to grind & rive on this cock.

“Only you Joel, only you” you gasp as you start moving now you’re comfortable. Your own hands trialing his T-shirt with the other messing up his morning hair even more. He might have had a hair cut recently but it’s still thick & lots to play with. “Your T-shirt is still inside out baby” you groan as you lean in to take his lips again. Succulent & full of love.

Joel’s not bothered. He’s not saying much at all. A few just like that & oh fucks escape when it’s not heavy breathing & panting from him. He’s watching your body roll onto him. Showing your pelvis work, wondering how he got so lucky to have you & that a girl like you would be bothered by him at all, especially when they were younger. Desire takes over him & his lips leave your mouth & the kisses pepper your own jaw line making you whine more. Your body grinding down on his cock more, enjoying all the pleasure he is providing as you drag him through your walls. But your moans get louder. One simple lick up your neck as he tastes your sweat send your body into convulsions of pleasure. A tongue that often satisfies you by lapping at your cunt for hours is now gliding up you neck.

“J…J…Joel…” it’s a groan, it’s deep & it’s filled with lust as he starts his next neck lick, your bodies nerves driven into override. It has him gasping before he licks down your neck & starts to suck the crook of your neck before he kisses your collar & shoulder. You clamp around him & he hisses, the excitement building up inside him as well.

“Ooh my love” Joel is in charge & is admiring how well you take his firm thrusts. Each one firmer, more fervent, faster & becoming more frenzied. He’s lost in your body, He finally removes your top from the hem upwards over your head, your hair still tied up. His head straight away burys into your cleavage the bra makes, as you unhook in from the back for him. You cry out once your breasts are free as he take your nipple into his mouth sucking it, like he would an ice pop. Your hand goes to your clit, furiously after friction, feeling insane that your man makes you want to do everything with him still after all these years.

“Yes Joel, yes” you moan “don’t stop, don’t stop, never stop” you’re losing control as you grip onto his arm. “Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck”. His mouth might be occupied with your breasts moving onto the next one, but he’s pulsing more, getting even harder, holding you so tight. Your body bouncing, feeling his penis get harder if that was possible as it hits that spot inside you, the one that when he finds it shocks your system. Makes you bounce more. Makes your hands grip around whatever they are on. He briefly comes away from your chest to growl.

“Fuck year baby” it’s deep & longing his words before he latches back into your tit. Like all men Joel enjoys all types of sex, but there is something about sucking your nipples & teasing your breasts that Joel adores. They aren’t the biggest breasts in the world, but they are more than a handful. & if someone held a gun to Joel’s head & asked what was his ultimate turn on he would say his head buried in your chest. You may not have any kids of your own but you know any you & Joel might one day have will not offer the satisfaction or feeling that this man’s lips do as they suck at your erect nipples. It makes you get lost in your own mind as your body crushes him & pushes him back into the arm chair even more.

“God Joel fuck”

“Oooh baby”

“Joel… Joel… fuck yes yes yes”

“Come on daring”

“Ooooh fuck”

All these word flow out of your mouths as the thrusting reaches its climax & you let go as Joel nibbles your nipple, drenching his penis, your walls fluttering around as they clamp around him, the follow up motion he fills you, breaking away from your breast. His own eyes rolling into the back of his head as he cums. Both of your body’s shaking in desire, longing looks no longer being met by each other. The smell of lust in the air, which the only sound is of you both breathing heavily as you come down from cumming so hard & ferociously.

You eventually rest your head on Joel shoulder, before looking up into his big brown eyes while he strokes your naked back, he is still inside you. You sigh looking at him before you tenderly kiss his lips. He strokes your hair with his spare hand.

“Joel?”

“Yes my darling?”

You giggle “your T-shirts now not only very sweaty but inside out still” you smile before you kiss him again.

“Ha” Joel laughs. “Maybe I wanted it that way, so then when I turn it around your sweat that dropped on me will be closer to my skin” he does a mischievous look at you.

“That is disgusting Joel Miller” you scoff & try & look shocked at what he’s said but you can’t hide that this turns you on slightly.

“Well maybe I will go change” he says as he slowly help you off him & makes sure your steady on his feet before he pulls his briefs trouser back up, which we’re still around his ankles. “But I’m not gonna shower, I want to smell of you when I sweat.” Before you can protests he’s put his large thumb over your mouth to silence you “thought you liked me sweaty & dirty?” He says before embracing your lips. His tongue not even asking permission, gliding to meet your own before he then finally removes his tshirt.

Time passes & you have showered & slept while Joel has left for work. You’re in the kitchen backing cookies when Sarah gets home. She looks stressed.

“Is it still a Monday Miller mood?” You ask her as you hear the bag slump down in the hall way.

“Urghhh”comes the cry from Sarah. “Advanced math is hell why do…” she’s interrupted by the smell of you baking cookies. “Are you making…” her head pops around the door frame. She sees your frazzled state. You’re held together by your nap,shower & sex. Your hair is no longer tied up & is frizzy & you are in your baggy shorts & one of Joel’s T-shirts for comfort.

“You know you sounded just like your dad when you started asking about advanced math” you say which makes her laugh.

“& you…” she says as she comes & sits at the counter ready to offer a hand knowing you are making her favourite cookies to get her out of her moody Monday “look like dad, your T-shirts inside out” you hadn’t even noticed the grey top wasn’t on properly.

“Well I guess that means I fit right in” you say as you pass her the bowl to stir.

“That you do”

“That you do” it’s echoed after Sarah said it as Joel is standing in the door way admiring you both getting on. You both turn & smile, before Sarah’s goes to hug her dad. Even at 15 a daughter needs a hug from her dad.

“How is my special girl?” He asks as he stroke Sarah’s hair.”did she have a good Monday?”

“She’s fine” Sarah’s replies & then she smiles at you & winks like her dad does “& im okay too”.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Netflix overpaid-Maureen Callahan

The $100m 'Harry and Meghan' is panned… and finally the karmic wheels of justice turn against two untalented, ungrateful hypocrites. No one deserves it more - so let's savor it! 

By Maureen Callahan For DailyMail.Com10:00 EST 09 Dec 2022 , updated 11:20 EST 09 Dec 2022

Netflix overpaid.

As with nearly everything Harry and Meghan do, 'Volume I' of their Netflix docuseries is pompous, mean, self-aggrandizing, and yet more of their specialty: Over-promise and under-deliver.

The much-ballyhooed 'Harry & Meghan' has landed with a thud. The reviews have been scathing: The Hollywood Reporter rightly says the show 'takes a lot of time to reveal very little.' The Atlantic asks if Harry and Meghan 'really want to spend the next 40 years as small angry planets trapped in the gravitational pull of the Windsors?' And Variety says, 'The Sussexes surprise us yet again with just how narrow their vision of fame is, how pinched and unimaginative their presence on the world stage has become.’

Finally, the karmic wheels of justice are turning towards these two self-pitying, untalented, ungrateful hypocrites. No one deserves it more. Let's savor it, shall we?

There's nothing scandalous here — except, of course, the casual cruelty Harry and Meghan, World's Greatest Bleeding Heart Philanthropists and Humanitarians, mete out to their nearest and dearest.

It's stunning. It's heartless. And, as is their trademark, it's utterly lacking in self-awareness. As Harry marvels late in Episode 3: 'It's amazing what people will do when offered a large amount of money.'

You mean like selling out your family, who have loved and supported you, financially and otherwise, your entire life? Like publicly accusing them of racism? Like secretly filming yourselves behind palace walls, long before you claimed you had any idea you'd be Megxiting and monetizing, videotaping and photographing your most private, intimate moments — like Harry's marriage proposal, which Meghan seems to have secretly recorded on her phone without Harry's knowledge — and saving all that ostensibly sacred stuff for a $100 million Netflix deal?

Like that?

There's nothing scandalous here ¿ except, of course, the casual cruelty Harry and Meghan, World's Greatest Bleeding Heart Philanthropists and Humanitarians, mete out to their nearest and dearest.

Or like the moment when Harry says of Meghan's father — a man who raised Meghan largely on his own, who contributed to the cost of her private elementary school and college — 'She doesn't have a father' — ?

This is as cutting a remark as Harry's deeply implied accusation here that his brother, the future king, couldn't marry for love.

If there was any hope of reconciliation with William, Harry just torched it.

And what has Kate ever done to deserve such bile from her brother-in-law? These are the parents of his niece and nephews, his children's cousins — but as we know, Harry and Meghan play checkers, not chess, and they play with cold hands and even colder hearts. They don't think or strategize long term. They're all about the twisted, short-term dopamine hits they get from acting out their never-ending victimhood.

To watch this series is to witness a Hitchcockian folie à deux minus the wit, élan or sophistication. It's like a soft-focus Oprah interview padded out with historical B-roll meant to support H&M's claims of racism within the monarchy — claims that go nowhere and B-roll that bores.

Nearly three years after the Oprah sit-down and three hours into this Netflix series, we still have no smoking gun about which senior royal is racist or bullied Meghan or didn't care that she was suicidal.

Meghan contradicts herself a fair amount here, in one case backpedaling on her original story that she didn't really know much about Harry before they met.

Initially, she said they met on a blind date, now she says they met through Instagram.

You can watch the wheels turning in Harry's head as he tries to square this circle. He surely has practice, living as he has in this alternate reality for years now.

As for the tea spilled here, it's cold, weak and bitter. Let's listen as Meghan, sitting in an enormous room sheathed in pastel draperies and soft lighting — a halo effect, if you will, for our greatest living saint since Angelina Jolie — talk about having to dim her light, her beauty, her overpowering star wattage, so as not to outshine Kate or the Queen.

Reader, brace yourself: Meghan Markle couldn't wear bold colors in public.

The much-ballyhooed 'Harry & Meghan' has landed with a thud. The reviews have been scathing. (Above)  'Rotten Tomatoes' shows poor critic and audience reviews for the Netflix series

Well, not so much couldn't — wouldn't. Meghan is just that much of a humanitarian. Allow her to explain, in an interview clearly shot before the Queen's death (not that her advanced age or Prince Philip on his deathbed ever stopped these two mercenaries).

'To my understanding,' Meghan says, 'you can't ever wear the same color as Her Majesty if there's a group event. But then you also shouldn't be wearing the same color as one of the other more senior members of the family. So I was like' — and here Meghan tilts her head back and looks heavenward, as if grasping for some earthly solution to this conundrum so clearly beneath her — 'Well, what's a color that they'll probably never wear?'

Faint exasperation creeps into Meghan's voice as she re-enacts her epiphany. Cut to a still photo of Meghan dressed in dull brown walking alongside Kate, resplendent in a jewel-toned, gold-buttoned coat.

'Camel, beige, white,' Meghan gripes. 'So I wore a lot of muted tones, but also it was so I could just blend in.'

Strap yourselves in for this one: 'I'm not trying to stand out here,' Meghan says. 'There's no version of me joining this family and trying to not do everything I could to fit in.'

Says our own Woko Ono, sticking to her story that she didn't understand what a big deal the royal family was.

There's one moment here where we see that Harry maybe — just maybe — realizes what a sadistic person he's married to. As he sits on a sofa to Meghan's right, he watches as his loving wife recounts her first meeting with the Queen, and in so doing insults Britons, Americans, the monarchy, Harry and his family, and everything his grandmother, who served her country for seventy years in a role she neither asked for nor wanted, stood for.

'I mean, Americans will understand this,' Meghan says, because 'we have Medieval Times, dinner and a tournament. It was like that.'

Even those of us never invited to Balmoral to meet the queen can confidently say: No. It's nothing like that.

But Meghan needs to bring Harry down to her level in order to elevate herself. Hence the leaning into forced casualness, hosting William and Kate for dinner, their very first meeting, Meghan barefoot and in ripped jeans.

Strap yourselves in for this one: 'I'm not trying to stand out here,' Meghan says. 'There's no version of me joining this family and trying to not do everything I could to fit in.'

Reader, brace yourself: Meghan Markle couldn't wear bold colors in public. Well, not so much couldn't ¿ wouldn't. Meghan is just that much of a humanitarian. Allow her to explain, in an interview clearly shot before the Queen's death (not that her advanced age or Prince Philip on his deathbed ever stopped these two mercenaries).

Seriously: Do better.

Back to Meghan reenacting her introduction to the queen, performing a theatrically deep curtsy and wiggling her eyebrows mockingly as she laughs and says, in a sickly-sweet fake voice, 'Pleasure to meet you, your majesty.'

Harry looks nothing short of pained.

He should consider this a preview of the rest of his life until the woman he's left everything and everyone for will surely train her venom, her victimhood, and her penchant for publicly tearing down close family members squarely on him. 

There's no doubt it will happen or that Harry will deserve it. The Meghan Markle we see here — and she really believes she's showing us her best self — will discard anyone once they no longer make her look good, feed her narcissistic supply, or are of any practical use.

Consider her adult niece Ashleigh, the daughter of Meghan's estranged half-sister Samantha. Meghan rhapsodizes about seeking out and cultivating this relationship, how important her niece is to her, and in turn her niece describes Meghan as 'all the things' — an aunt, but also a sister figure and a mother figure, one who took Asleigh on vacations and talked to her about anything and everything.

Then Meghan got engaged to Harry and, well . . . their phone calls got less and less frequent.

Can you guess who got disinvited to H&M's wedding?

Yes, poor Ashleigh, who doesn't seem to buying Meghan's vague excuse here that nameless palace 'advisers' forced her hand. Ashleigh sits in this docuseries tearful, confused, humiliated and skeptical, yet still kind enough not to openly wonder why her beloved aunt invited celebrities she had never even met before — Oprah, the Clooneys, David Beckham — instead of her own flesh and blood.

Ashleigh (above) sits in this docuseries tearful, confused, humiliated and skeptical, yet still kind enough not to openly wonder why her beloved aunt invited celebrities she had never even met before ¿ Oprah, the Clooneys, David Beckham ¿ instead of her own flesh and blood.

Or maybe Ashleigh did. Maybe Meghan demanded final cut. Who really knows what goes on in H&M's house of mirrors?

We get a small look at Harry and Meghan's everyday life, such as it is. We see Harry and Meghan in the back of a chauffeured SUV, being driven through Manhattan and freaking out over a lone paparazzo on a scooter. One guy. Cue an over-the-top reaction: panic, fear, forced calm.

We see Meghan feed into Harry's post-Diana trauma as she leans in and says to him 'Safety first' — e.g., there will be no speeding away from the non-existent hordes of photographers — you know, the ones we saw in the trailer for this vanity project. Meghan's gone full Hollywood here, now a cliché with her 'make-up artists and friend,' her 'personal assistant and friend.'

We listen as Harry, painfully and obviously, explains what royal reporters do.

Care to hazard a guess?

'It's like, this family' — meaning the royal family — 'is ours to exploit,' Harry says of the royal rota. 'Their trauma is our story and our narrative to control.'

Hey, let's get one thing straight — if anyone's going to exploit anything around here, it's going to be Harry and Meghan.

See you back next week for Volume II!

[joompheart]

This one is Andrew. I'm really glad to finally have a kinda definitive picture that I can point to and go "that's what she looks like," and I'm looking forward to doing the same for the rest of my OC's. Long, detailed description below the cut.

-Age range: 16-21

-Physical attributes: Disgustingly lean. Almost nothing but muscle, skin, and bone. Think “teenage Olympian.” Strong for her size but not big enough to be “actually actually” strong. Shortest of my OC's, maybe 5'7” to 5'9”? I have a tendency to kinda homogenize heights with my characters but I still don't think of her as diminutive. Dark hair, approx shoulder length. Can be a couple inches longer or shorter though. [Maybe she looks a little sickly in this picture, that's just because I'm bad with color. Any human skin tone would be fine, I think the colors of her armor go well with every one I can conceive of].

-Magic specialty: Andrew is the most severely minmaxxed out of all of my characters, focusing on physical enhancement and melee combat. She's optimized for movement speed, strength, agility, grace/ coordination, and reaction speed. She also has some talent for enhancing objects, but only her own possessions. In a fair fight Andrew wins against every other character except Theodore, you just can't touch her. [Andrew I mean].

-Armor: Basically like at the end of Halo 4 where they take off Master Chief's Mark VI MOD MJOLNIR armor, it's a (supposed to be black or dark grey but the red looked better for this) skintight bodysuit with armor plates sealed on. The armor plates are small and rounded to reduce any drag or chances to snag on the environment when moving at speed, and to keep a lower profile (or at least as low as you can go when you're bright yellow-gold). Andrew was a zealot/ corpo assassin so this armor was made to be worn under more conventional clothes and could be at least partially hidden with magic. The armor plates are not exceptionally strong, but very light. They're mostly to facilitate wearing her thrusters.

-[An armor plate of note would be her cup, which is worn as a thong. Think something right out of a Radical Dream/ Rindou demon exorcist hentai, except the protection is actually real and not just ostensible lol. I point this out because you can't really see from this angle, but it feels important to the whole outfit and character for me. It's not like Andrew is supposed to be really sexy, she's got the most uncomfortable body of all of my characters. But leaving no armor there would feel sparse, and using a more conservative plate would feel lame. Idk. Idk it feels important.]

-Thrusters: Andrew can move stupid fast and could probably jump out of atmosphere if she had to, but she can't fly. This means that when she's really moving she would actually be at her slowest in free fall, or even worse at the apex of a jump. To counteract this she has sort of “reverse jetpack” thrusters on her armor angled up to push her back down to the ground, where she can get back to peak performance. Thrusters are concentrated on her upper back, but there are also some on the back of her shoulders, some right on top of her (damn near nonexistent) boobs, one above her cock, and on the back of her calves. Think kinda like Iron Man repulsors, though that makes me feel a little lame to say lol.

-Sword: The inception of this character was really enjoying the Odachi animations in the game Nioh, so that's what her sword is like. Try to imagine her padding along, holding it down in front of her, blade forward, hands crossed so her dominant right palm is down and her supporting left palm is up, tip of the blade just barely gliding above the ground. The sword is just metal with no inherent special qualities, albeit a space alloy that's more durable than anything we've got on earth and holds and edge really well. However, due to her strong bond with it, Andrew can magically enhance the durability and cutting ability of the blade even further, as to slice through rock and even metal with little resistance. Additionally, the length of the blade is magically variable. The sheath for the blade is only about a foot long, and the length of the blade for a given use is determined by how “long” the blade is unsheathed. The sheath is tied with cord so Andrew can stow her sword and attach it to/ hang it on her armor when not in use. The cord's length is also magically variable, so she can kinda “yo-yo” when her blade is too long to comfortably reach manually. In that way she can quickly change the length of the blade mid-fight, throwing the sheath to the tip of the sword to pull back to the hilt and then yanking it back off revealing that the blade is now several feet shorter (or vice versa).

-Partial Biography: Daughter of the governor of one of 2 colony mining cities, one of many children. Neither the eldest or the youngest. When Penelope (doesn't technically but effectively) kills the governor and the city is overrun with Penelope's cult [he doesn't lead it, hes just a prominent member. But that's off topic.], Andrew and her family flee to the other city on the other side of the planet. Andrew's aptitude for magic, both inherited from her father and developed on her own, leads her to be enlisted as a sort of political assassin for the governors of that city. Over time her convictions are loosened by the nature of her work and she's assigned a final suicide mission to kill Penelope and as much of his cult as she can, basically being told she's fired and that's the last listing they're leaving her with.

-Personality: Frustrated and vengeful, feels strongly about the concept of “justice.” Andrew is reckoning with having lost so much faith in the system that she and her father believed in, how she can possibly make “the world” “better” when her primary skill set is extreme overkill murder, and if her hate for Penelope and his cult even matters. Used to a high standard of living, if a little spartan. Very very very capable in action, moving efficiently and with little pretense. Very driven, expects to always know what her next goal is.

-Associated NiN songs: “The Wretched”

[qzwrites]

Bastiaan at the Brothel pt 2

this bit is longer and smutty, directly featuring Lennart's speedrun from virgin to BDSM enjoyer.

---

It had been nearly two years earlier that Madam Louisa informed Bastiaan over breakfast that someone had already paid for his entire night. Bastiaan was not in especially high demand at the brothel, though he wasn't in low demand, either, as one of the only men working in any of the brothels in town. There was steady but not quite frequent demand for his specialty services. He usually spent a decent amount of his time watching the common room and glaring at customers who got out of line.

So he was a little surprised that someone would have bought out his entire night. "Are you sure?" Bastiaan asked.

Madam Louisa pulled a sizable purse out of her cleavage and shook it. The coins within sounded like silver, and were obviously numerous. "He paid up front," Madam Louisa said. "So yes. Didn't know your name, but gave a clear enough description, even though he could have stopped at 'male'."

Bastiaan frowned. He didn't remember doing anything out of the ordinary in the past few days, or going anywhere special. But he supposed if someone described him and threw around that kind of coin, they were pretty sure what they wanted.

When they opened for the night, Bastiaan's customer was the first to arrive. He was a tall man, with long black hair tied back with a white ribbon, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist. He looked deathly serious, which was not really a typical look for a customer coming into the brothel. He wasn't particularly handsome, with a long face and a beaky nose, but Bastiaan couldn't deny he found the intense look of the man attractive.

Bastiaan had set up his room ahead of opening, since he knew he wasn't wasting his time or candles, so he led the intense man right back.

When he first started working at the brothel, Bastiaan tried to imitate his colleagues' manner, being friendly and seductive. It had felt awkward and unnatural, and eventually Madam Louisa told him to knock it off.

"You barely have any competition," she told him. "You can afford to be yourself. If customers don't like it, well." She shrugged. "They don't have that many options anyway." That seemed kind of rude to Bastiaan, but once he stopped trying to imitate the other workers, he actually had more customers, and those customers seemed happier. So Bastiaan accepted that part of his appeal was his matter of fact and not at all seductive affect. It was certainly more comfortable than forcing himself to be friendly.

When the tall, intense customer was in his room, Bastiaan asked him, "What did you have in mind for this evening?"

That seemed to startle the man. "I don't know," he said. His voice was deep, and somewhat flat, in contrast to his evident startlement. "What do you usually do?"

Bastiaan frowned. "Did you really book my entire night without having an idea what you wanted?"

"I want you," the man said immediately.

Bastiaan rolled his eyes. "Good, at least you got that much," he said. "Do you have any preferences?" he asked. "Something you've been wanting to try? Any particular reason I caught your eye?"

The man shook his head. "You," he said. He frowned, hopefully having heard himself and realized what an inadequate answer that was. He said, "I saw you in the market, arguing with someone. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I asked who you were, and found out you work here."

Bastiaan frowned again. "You do know this is a brothel, right?"

"It would be difficult not to," the man said, which Bastiaan supposed was fair. Bastiaan's outfit was more-or-less appropriate to wear on the street, but most of the other workers' weren't, and they had passed plenty of Bastiaan's scantily-clad colleagues on the way to his room.

"Just making sure," Bastiaan said. "Since you didn't mention anything about sex."

"I have no sexual experience and do not think I've ever found someone attractive before you," the man said.

"Oh," Bastiaan said. He was a virgin. A loaded, impulsive virgin, perhaps, but Bastiaan had a few different strategies for virgins. It was rare for an older man--that was, a man who didn't look like he'd just started needing to shave the week before--to admit to having no experience at all; usually they at least implied they'd been with a woman. But if this man didn't often find people attractive, that made sense enough. "Then why don't we sit down and talk a little, first," Bastiaan said, gesturing to the bed.

The man sat down on the edge of Bastiaan's bed, stiff in rather a different way than Bastiaan's customers usually were. Bastiaan sat down next to him, close enough for the outside of their thighs to press together. He asked the man, "What's your name?"

"Lennart," the man said, not looking over at him. That was fine; Bastiaan preferred not to look at people's faces when they could look back at him anyway.

"Lennart," Bastiaan said softly. "Why'd you book the whole night?"

"I had the money," Lennart said. "I seemed less likely to regret spending the money than not having enough time with you."

That was sweet, actually, even if Lennart seemed to mean it in a purely logical way. Bastiaan put his hand on Lennart's knee. Lennart was so tense Bastiaan might have worried for his health, if he hadn't already told Bastiaan he was a virgin with no experience even finding people attractive. Still speaking softly, Bastiaan asked, "When did you realize you were attracted to me?"

"I...suppose it must have been between finding out you worked at a brothel and realizing I could afford to pay for an entire night," Lennart said. "I wasn't really conscious of it until I was handing over the money."

Bastiaan smiled. "Really?" he asked.

"I told you I have no experience in these matters," Lennart said stiffly.

"I'm not making fun of you," Bastiaan said, gently squeezing Lennart's knee. Bastiaan wasn't always good at reading people, even after working in a brothel for several years, but he found Lennart's defensiveness obvious enough. "It's just a lot of money to spend without knowing why."

Lennart relaxed minutely. Bastiaan doubted he would have noticed if he wasn't touching Lennart in multiple places. Lennart said, "Yes."

"You'd already paid when I woke up today," Bastiaan said. "Surely you thought about what you might want from me in the hours between then and now."

"Vaguely," Lennart said. "I'm certain you have a better idea of what's possible than I."

Bastiaan laughed. "Yes," he said, "but without knowing what you're interested in, I have to start with the most general possible suggestions."

Lennart shrugged. "We have all night," he said.

"We do," Bastiaan agreed, smiling. "Is it fair to assume you'd like to see me naked?" he asked.

Lennart's hands twitched where they lay in his lap. "Yes," he said. "Please."

"Do you want to undress me?" Bastiaan asked.

After a pause, Lennart said, "I'm unsure I could figure that out at the moment."

Bastiaan laughed. "Fair enough," he said, and stood up. He wasn't very good at strip teases, either, but most of his customers insisted the way he didn't try to force it worked better for them. Lennart seemed to enjoy it, if how wide his eyes got and how tightly he clenched his hands together in his lap were any indication.

While Bastiaan set aside his clothing, he noticed Lennart's hand make an aborted movement toward him. "You can touch me," Bastiaan said. "You paid enough for it."

"I don't want to interrupt," Lennart said, although he did reach over and run his fingers delicately over Bastiaan's ass.

Something Bastiaan had learned in the years he had been working at a brothel was that certain kinds of customers were more interested in attempting to get Bastiaan off than they were in getting themselves off. Something Bastiaan had learned about himself in those years was that when those customers were earnest, and not trying to show off how good they were at sex, it was hotter to him than basically anything else. He could already tell Lennart was going to make a strong attempt at showing Bastiaan a good time, even though he admitted he had no idea what he was doing, and Bastiaan suspected he was going to enjoy it very much no matter how little skill Lennart displayed.

Bastiaan tossed his last article of clothing vaguely in the direction of his wardrobe and trunk, not watching to see if it landed where he aimed, before he climbed onto Lennart's lap, straddling him. Lennart was a bit taller than Bastiaan, but his place in Lennart's lap still put Bastiaan's head above Lennart's. Lennart tentatively brought his hands up to Bastiaan's chest. First, he only rested his hands on Bastiaan's pecs, then he got up the courage to squeeze.

"Would you like to kiss me?" Bastiaan asked, not having to fake the breathy quality of his voice.

"I believe I would," Lennart said. He moved his hands up to Bastiaan's shoulders and pulled him down into kissing range.

Unsurprisingly, Lennart was not a great kisser. He took direction well, though. When Bastiaan told him to use less teeth, or not press so hard, he listened and adjusted his approach. His kissing improved rapidly. He was an excellently enjoyable blend of very attracted to Bastiaan and eager to please Bastiaan.

After long enough making out that they were both hard, Bastiaan pulled back and said, "I think we ought to take your clothes off as well."

"Ah," Lennart said. "Yes." He brought his hands up to his high collar and started undoing the fastenings.

Bastiaan had never noticed in himself a marked preference for men or women. He tended to find himself inclined more toward the gender of whoever he was with at the moment. As Lennart pulled off his tunic, Bastiaan found himself experiencing one of those shifts again, thinking how attractive men were to him, and what a wonderful example of manhood Lennart was. Unlike Bastiaan, Lennart was tall and lean. He had only a smattering of hair on his chest. His shoulders were broad, though, and his torso tapered down to a narrower waist and hips than Bastiaan's.

Lennart stood to push down his trousers without any apparent hesitation or shyness, which would have been understandable from a virgin. His cock was already quite hard. Like the rest of him, his cock was longer and thinner than Bastiaan's. Bastiaan wondered if Lennart had given any thought to anal sex. Most of Bastiaan's customers wanted him to top, but he had been fucked in the ass enough to know what he liked, and he thought Lennart's cock would be quite pleasant inside him.

Not that he wouldn't enjoy topping for Lennart, if that was what Lennart wanted. Bastiaan always enjoyed customers who were actually attracted to him, not only settling for him because he was the nearest to what they wanted. He got a lot of his business from people who just didn't have many options for male whores, but it wasn't as fun for him.

Bastiaan kicked Lennart's clothes out of the way and stepped in close to him. He put his hands on Lennart's hips. He stopped short of standing close enough for Lennart's cock to brush against him, but only just. "That's better," he said.

Lennart bent down and kissed him again.

Bastiaan pushed him onto the bed and climbed back into his lap. In this position, with both of them naked, it would have required effort to keep their dicks from coming into contact with each other, and Bastiaan didn't bother. Lennart groaned into his mouth, then brought his hands up to clutch at Bastiaan's hips, pulling him more snugly against his body.

Lennart, Bastiaan could tell, would easily be able to come like this. Bastiaan would probably be able to as well. He ran his hands along Lennart's toned arms and considered what his stamina was probably like. Lennart was a virgin, which meant he'd probably finish quickly but be able to get back to it quickly as well. He was athletic, which usually meant good bodily control, and almost certainly meant he wouldn't be easily worn out by a single round. And he was fixated enough on Bastiaan to immediately pay for an entire night up front, so he would presumably want to keep going.

Bastiaan wrapped his legs around Lennart, locking his ankles together behind him so he had the leverage to grind their dicks together. Lennart moaned into his mouth again. Bastiaan rolled his hips, deliberate and slow. Lennart twitched beneath him. Bastiaan did it again, and again, barely picking up speed. Lennart dug his fingers into Bastiaan's hips, but he didn't have the leverage to fight Bastiaan's pace. He could have, if he'd thought to shift his hands to Bastiaan's ass, but he didn't. Bastiaan kissed him and ground their cocks together until Lennart's was leaking and his breathing was hard and fast. Bastiaan pulled back from the kiss just enough to murmur against Lennart's lips, "Are you going to come for me?" Lennart groaned, and only a moment later he did.

He came hard enough to get semen on their chests, even though there was little room between their bodies. And he kept coming, longer than Bastiaan anticipated, as though he'd never done so before. It was hot and slick and, to be frank, probably would have been kind of disgusting if Bastiaan hadn't spent years fucking people for money. Bastiaan leaned back, grabbed one of Lennart's hands, and pulled it into the sticky mess between them. He only had to wrap Lennart's fingers around his cock before Lennart realized what he was doing.

Lennart made a desperate noise and lurched forward to kiss Bastiaan again, even as he tightened his grip on Bastiaan's cock. Considering it was covered in his come, Lennart's firm grip slid up Bastiaan's cock in an extremely pleasant way. Bastiaan twitched, which seemed to please Lennart. Yes, he was definitely the kind of customer who enjoyed getting Bastiaan off.

It didn't take long, with such enthusiasm, for Bastiaan to come and add his own more modest contribution to the mess between their bodies.

After a moment, Lennart pulled away from Bastiaan's mouth to catch his breath. After a few more moments, he said, "I hope that doesn't mean my time is up."

"You paid for the whole night," Bastiaan said. "If you don't want to be done, you don't have to be done." He traced a finger down Lennart's neck. "I assumed you'd want to try a few more things, at least."

"Yes," Lennart agreed, somewhat hoarsely. His cock was already showing signs of life again, twitching against Bastiaan's balls.

"Do you have any ideas now?" Bastiaan asked. He traced his fingers along the sweaty hair at the nape of Lennart's neck. "Or could I offer a selfish suggestion?"

"Be as selfish as you want," Lennart said.

Again, sweet, but ignorant enough Bastiaan would ignore it. Still, it meant Bastiaan skipped over a few suggestions he'd usually offer a virgin first, and said, "I'd really like it if you fucked me in the ass."

Lennart's eyes widened. "Oh," he said.

"You don't have to," Bastiaan said. "But if I didn't at least ask, I'd be kicking myself for weeks."

"Really?" Lennart asked.

Bastiaan smiled at him. "One of the things about having sex for money is, you learn what you like," he said. "And your dick looks like a size and shape I would very much like inside me."

"Oh," Lennart said again. It came out hoarse and broken again. He cleared his throat before going on, "Show me what to do."

Again, Lennart proved a capable student, good at taking direction and desperate to please Bastiaan. He fingered Bastiaan slick and open like it was the greatest gift he'd ever been given, the most important task he'd ever undertake, and barely seemed aware his own cock was once again fully erect and steadily leaking.

If Bastiaan was being truly selfish, he would have asked Lennart to take him from behind, which he tended to enjoy more. But as much as Lennart liked pleasing Bastiaan, they didn't know each other, and Lennart had to take Bastiaan's word for it about what he enjoyed. Riding Lennart, so he could watch Bastiaan enjoy himself and see the only person he'd ever been attracted to bounce on his dick, would undoubtedly be a better experience. If he came back, Bastiaan told himself, he'd ask Lennart to take him from behind.

"Oh, god," Lennart groaned as Bastiaan eased down onto his cock.

It might have been good, actually, that so few of Bastiaan's customers wanted to do this, because Bastiaan really enjoyed it too much to be much use. Luckily, he was by now quite certain Lennart would enjoy the way Bastiaan lost his head. The initial intrusion was always the worst part, in that it pushed every other thought right out of Bastiaan's head, to be replaced with the extremely base thoughts of so good and too much and a little more chasing each other around on a loop. It took real effort not to immediately push himself back up and start riding Lennart as hard as he could. Instead, Bastiaan forced himself to focus on Lennart's face. It took a moment for his eyes to align properly.

Lennart was completely dumbstruck. Bastiaan had seen priests in the middle of visions look less enraptured. Lennart's grip on Bastiaan's hips was tight, his thumbs digging in beneath Bastiaan's hip bones. Still, Lennart gathered the wherewithal to speak before Bastiaan did, and asked, "How is it?"

Bastiaan moaned, "So good, god, you have no idea." Bastiaan typically had trouble obliging people who wanted their whores to be slutty and empty-headed. Like this, however, it was all too easy to start babbling about how good it felt. "Oh, fuck, oh god," he went on when he started moving. "Oh, that's good, that's so good, god!"

"Good," Lennart said breathlessly. He groaned. "This is very nice."

Bastiaan tried to laugh, but he didn't have enough breath to do so. Lennart had started thrusting up into Bastiaan to meet him, driving his cock deeper inside him, and it was just this side of too much. Bastiaan leaned back to brace himself on Lennart's thighs, so Lennart's cock would do more than simply brush his prostate, and felt his cock dribble a bit of pre-come when he got the angle right.

"You are so beautiful," Lennart breathed, which was not a compliment Bastiaan often received. It felt more embarrassing because he could hardly doubt Lennart meant it.

"I'm glad you think so," Bastiaan managed.

That was the end of conversation for the moment; Bastiaan was far too preoccupied to speak. At some point thereafter, one of Lennart's hands left Bastiaan's hip to wrap around his cock, and Bastiaan was quickly trapped between the urge to drive Lennart's cock as deep into him as possible and the urge to fuck into Lennart's hand as hard as possible. After an eternity that wasn't nearly long enough,  Bastiaan came. His hands spasmed as he did so, digging his nails into Lennart's thighs. Lennart whimpered, then started coming inside Bastiaan while Bastiaan's body still convulsed around him.

It took a while for Bastiaan to be able to move and think again. Thankfully, Lennart didn't seem to mind the mess, or Bastiaan's dazed collapse onto the bed beside him.

Perhaps as long as half an hour later, Bastiaan roused himself enough to get out a cloth to wipe off all the sweat, semen, and lube. He'd need to change his sheet, but that was why he put away his actual blankets before the brothel opened. He looked at Lennart, who was watching him with the same intense attention as he had been all evening. He silently offered Lennart the soiled cloth.

While Lennart wiped his hands and dick clean, Bastiaan asked him, "So what do you do that you can afford to buy out my whole night but I've never seen you in town before?"

"I'm a mercenary," Lennart said. He unfolded and refolded the cloth so it was relatively clean on the outside, then handed it back to Bastiaan.

"Oh, are you?" Bastiaan asked. He tossed the cloth into the basket he kept next to the bed for that purpose. "I didn't know there were any troupes in town at the moment."

"I work alone," Lennart said.

Bastiaan had traveled with a mercenary troupe, briefly, immediately after the murder of his parents, and was still in contact with the captain of that troupe. Mercenaries might take a job here and there singly, but usually traveled in at least pairs. Bastiaan raised his eyebrows and said, "You must be either very good or very bad, then."

Lennart smiled at that. He said, "Yes," and left it there. He asked, "Have you worked here long?"

"Since I was old enough to," Bastiaan said. He started out running errands during daylight hours, not taking customers until years later.

"Do you like it?" Lennart asked.

Ordinarily when people asked Bastiaan or one of his colleagues if they liked working in the brothel, it was because they had an answer they wanted to hear. Some people wanted to hear their whores say they hated it and wouldn't do it if they had any choice, while some people wanted to hear about how freeing and enjoyable it was. Lennart asked the question like Bastiaan was any other new acquaintance he was getting to know. That was nice enough that Bastiaan told him honestly, "Well enough. Some parts more than others."

Lennart nodded. "That is true for most people, I believe." Bastiaan made an affirmative noise. "What do you usually do?" Lennart asked.

"Well, I'm obviously one of the only options available around here to people who want to hire a man," Bastiaan said. "Other than that, I do a lot of S&M."

"What's that?" Lennart asked, in the exact same politely curious manner.

God, he really didn't know anything, did he? Bastiaan was fairly certain that was the term adults who didn't spend their time in brothels would be likeliest to know. Bastiaan said, "Mostly hurting people who want to be hurt. Only about half of them are in it for sexual gratification, but it's an awkward thing to ask anyone else to do."

Lennart frowned, and asked, "Why would people want to be hurt?"

Bastiaan smiled. "Lots of reasons," he said. "Mostly because it turns them on, but a lot because it can feel nice when you're doing it on purpose. Haven't you ever poked a bruise or wiggled a loose tooth?"

"Oh," Lennart said, and thought for a minute or two. "What kind of...hurting people...do you do most often?"

"Well, a lot of people want some hair-pulling or slapping," Bastiaan said. "Spankings and beatings are pretty common, too. I'm kind of a specialist, though; since I have an affinity for healing magic, we can offer a lot of things other brothels can't."

"Such as?" Lennart asked. It was not lost on Bastiaan that his breathing had sped up again. He supposed it wasn't too surprising that a mercenary would have a strong reaction to violence.

"Things that would be too risky to do without a healer on hand," Bastiaan said. "Choking's a big one, reputable brothels don't allow choking without a healer in the room. Actual bleeding and wound play. I've stabbed and cut open a lot of people, fingered a lot of wounds. I mean, there's still some things I can't heal, but if someone's got an amputation kink they'll probably be a lot happier figuring something out with me than with someone who can't heal them."

"Is that a thing?" Lennart asked. He didn't seem alarmed, which was more than most people when Bastiaan got to talking about it.

"It's an extreme example," Bastiaan said. "But yes. Some people enjoy the pain, and some people enjoy the loss of control. Some people like the fact that their only job is to endure." Bastiaan smiled at Lennart again, because he suspected this last category might be of particular interest to Lennart. "And some people feel like they need to do something to earn the bit they really enjoy, which is when I tell them what a good job they did."

"Mm. This is common enough you do it regularly?" Lennart asked.

"Most brothels offer the safer stuff," Bastiaan said. "I'd have to ask around, but I think about half our customers want it at least sometimes. There aren't as many people who want something dangerous enough to need me--except choking, so many people want choking--but even apart from my regulars, I get some every week."

"Hmm," Lennart said.

"Why?" Bastiaan asked. "Have you thought about it?"

"Not until this conversation," Lennart said. Enough color had risen in his cheeks that Bastiaan knew he didn't find it wholly uninteresting. "I have sometimes been accused of enjoying my work overmuch," he admitted. "Which seems like it was probably hypocritical in at least some cases."

"That makes sense," Bastiaan said. "For how often people ask for it, they're usually fairly ashamed of it." He traced a hand down the center of Lennart's chest, and asked, "Is that something you'd be interested in? Do you want to let me have my way with you, and be my good boy?"

Lennart went very still. Bastiaan didn't know him well enough to tell if that was a good sign or a bad sign, so he waited. Lennart's breathing was a little fast, and his cheeks were still pink, but Bastiaan knew as well as anyone could that arousal and distress sometimes looked disconcertingly similar. Even with his regulars, Bastiaan wasn't always sure. Finally, Lennart said, "I would like to try, at least."

Part of Bastiaan itched to suggest Lennart hurt him, which was not something he had ever actively desired before. He'd done it, of course, and he'd often enjoyed it, but letting a customer take control without supervision was not something they offered without a hell of a down payment, or a long-lasting enough relationship to actually trust said customer. Lord Avis, for instance, was allowed to restrain and beat any of them who did that sort of work, but Brunhild had been essentially his mistress for nearly fifteen years, and Madam Louisa trusted him. It would be unwise in the extreme to let Lennart, a first-time customer who had been a virgin until earlier that night and had never done any sort of S&M, take the lead. Even if Bastiaan found the idea surprisingly appealing.

Bastiaan slid his fingers further down Lennart's body, until Bastiaan reached the edges of his pubic hair and Lennart's breath hitched. Bastiaan asked, "Did you have something in mind?"

"What do you like?" Lennart asked. Bastiaan let his fingers drift further down to stroke the very base of Lennart's cock. Lennart said, "I, ah, liked the idea of you having your way with me."

"Oh?" Bastiaan asked. Of course he did; Lennart really wanted Bastiaan to enjoy himself. "Then how would you feel about taking a beating for me?"

"Good," Lennart said, his voice cracking.

"Oh, really good, hmm?" Bastiaan asked. "I think I'd like to beat you until your entire back is red and tender, how does that sound?" He hardly needed to ask, given how rapidly Lennart's cock was hardening beneath his fingers.

"Also good," Lennart said, face reddening further.

"Good," Bastiaan said. He gave Lennart's cock a teasingly light stroke. "Then when your back is on fire and another strike would break the skin, I'd stop beating you and start fucking you."

Lennart whined, which was delightful. "Please," he said, voice quiet and shaky.

Bastiaan kissed him, immediately nibbling at Lennart's lower lip. Lennart all but melted under him. God, he was sexy. Bastiaan half wished more of his customers were this attractive, and half was glad they weren't. He doubted he could be as good at his job as he was if more of his customers drove him crazy like this.

Bastiaan crawled over Lennart to get out of the bed. Lennart watched him in silence, until Bastiaan pulled open the curtain concealing his dungeon equipment against the wall. Lennart exclaimed, "Oh!"

Bastiaan secured the curtains, then went back to set up the diagonal cross. Most of Bastiaan's dungeon equipment folded flat and had to be pulled out to use, but some of it could stay against the wall during use. The heavier-duty furniture lived in the dedicated dungeon, but enough of Bastiaan's customers came specifically for his ability to break them harder than others could that Madam Louisa had arranged for him to have his own set.

He checked to make sure the cross was secure and would take Lennart's weight, then went over to the wardrobe to get his out his tool chest. It was somewhat annoying to have to do this much prep work, but not scaring off the vanilla customers while still having the flexibility to torture someone was nice. And he knew it was a point in his favor, even for those of his customers who didn't want the more extreme torments, that Bastiaan could plausibly be fucking them in nice, vanilla ways. He had one regular he knew wasn't particularly attracted to men and would have been happier with Mistress Renate, but was too nervous about the idea of someone knowing he liked being whipped to stomach seeing someone who offered nothing at all in the way of vanilla services.

"Come here," Bastiaan said. Lennart leapt to obey. His cock was fully hard again, just from watching Bastiaan set up. Oh, he was cute. "Face the wall. Wrists up here," Bastiaan pointed, "ankles down here. Do you think you can hold this position, or should I tie you up?"

"Tie me up," Lennart said, almost before Bastiaan finished asking.

Bastiaan smiled. Lennart was already leaning against the cross, or Bastiaan would have kissed him again.

The ends of the cross were padded, to make holding on less painful, but there were also metal rings set into the sides to attach things to. Bastiaan strapped Lennart's wrists to the top posts, then bent down to fasten his ankles to the bottoms. "Not too tight?" he asked.

"No," Lennart said.

"Tell me if you start feeling numb or tingly," Bastiaan said.

"Ah, yes," Lennart said.

Bastiaan patted Lennart's shoulder and said, "Good boy." Lennart's next breath was noisy.

Bastiaan wouldn't lie, he did enjoy seeing the expanse of someone's unmarked flesh laid out in front of him. It was satisfying, even when he didn't find someone especially attractive, to know they trusted Bastiaan enough to let themselves be entirely at his mercy. Bastiaan ran his hands along the pale skin of Lennart's back, petting it. "Oh," Bastiaan said, "before we start."

"Mm?"

Perhaps Bastiaan should have mentioned this sooner; Lennart already sounded a little out of it. Some people did find simply being restrained enough to put them under. "This is still supposed to be something you enjoy," Bastiaan said. "I'll stop if you tell me to. But some people like to be able to say 'stop' or 'no' without me actually stopping."

After a moment, Lennart asked, "How does that work?"

"We have a code word," Bastiaan said. He brushed Lennart's tail of hair over his shoulder, so it wouldn't get tangled in the falls of his tools. "Something people are unlikely to say by accident, even when we're pretending they don't want this."

"Ah," Lennart said. "I don't know that that's a concern for me."

No, Lennart didn't seem like the type to want that kind of game. Certainly not the first time, when Bastiaan wouldn't even offer it without being asked. "Still," Bastiaan said. "How about if you say stop or no, I check in with you, but if you say Gustav, I stop immediately. That way if something goes wrong, we'll both know it."

"That seems reasonable," Lennart said.

"Good," Bastiaan said. "So what's the word if you need to stop immediately?"

Lennart huffed, probably impatient. He said, "Gustav."

"That's right," Bastiaan said. He leaned in to press a kiss to the back of Lennart's neck, then murmured, "Good boy."

Bastiaan was not surprised to feel Lennart shiver.

He picked up his lightest flogger. He could start even lighter than that, of course, with the feathers or even his hands, but he suspected Lennart had certain expectations of something Bastiaan had called a beating. He still started slowly, trailing the leather falls across Lennart's upper back. He saw Lennart shiver again. He was interested to see if he could actually beat Lennart right up to the point of bleeding; it wasn't something everyone could actually endure, even if they liked the sound of it.

Lennart made a soft noise after the first real strike. Bastiaan waited to see if he would say something, but he didn't, so Bastiaan hit him again. He let out another grunt, which was similar to the noises he'd made when Bastiaan rode him, but different enough to give Bastiaan pause. Bastiaan asked, "Good?"

"This may sound strange," Lennart said, which made Bastiaan smile, "but do you have anything heavier? This is...sharp."

"Oh," Bastiaan said. "Sure." He stepped in close enough to kiss the back of Lennart's neck once more and said, "Good boy."

Lennart growled.

Bastiaan swapped out his lightest flogger for one of the medium ones. He struck Lennart again, not swinging as hard as he could have, counting on the heavier, thicker falls to make themselves known. Lennart gasped. Bastiaan asked, "Better?"

"Yes," Lennart said. "Thank you."

"Of course," Bastiaan said. "Thank you for letting me know." Lennart took a breath to respond, and Bastiaan hit him again. Lennart gasped.

Lennart was a lot less quiet while being flogged than he had been while Bastiaan rode him. He gasped and groaned like Bastiaan was already fucking him. Every time Bastiaan told him what a good job he was doing, how well he was taking it, how lovely he looked with Bastiaan's marks on him, he thanked Bastiaan in a choked voice.

Eventually, Lennart's skin was so red and tender that Bastiaan had to ease off on the force. The lightest strike was enough to make Lennart shout. He hadn't been that loud even when he was digging his fingers into Bastiaan's hips and coming inside him. Even Bastiaan running his fingers over Lennart's back made him shudder. Heat radiated off of Lennart's abused skin.

"Sadly," Bastiaan said, barely letting his nails make contact with Lennart's back, "I'm not sure how much more of this you could take."

Lennart made a noise Bastiaan interpreted as sad. After a moment, Lennart asked with a rough voice, "Does that mean you're going to fuck me now?"

"If you're still interested," Bastiaan said.

Even before Bastiaan finished speaking, Lennart was saying, "Yes, yes, please."

"You beg so pretty for me," Bastiaan murmured. He kissed the side of Lennart's neck. "How do you feel about staying on the cross while I fuck you?"

Lennart groaned. "Good," he said. "Please."

It was never unpleasant for Bastiaan to do this for someone, but tonight he was almost painfully hard. He dragged over the little platform he kept under the bed and slid it between the legs of the cross, so he would have enough height to reach. Then he got a good handful of lube and slicked himself up. He had to pause and take a deep breath to keep himself under control. That was not a problem he often had anymore, but Lennart had gotten under his skin from the start.

"You have been so very good for me," Bastiaan said, getting into position behind Lennart. "Such a good boy. So I'll offer you a choice." He pressed his slick fingers between Lennart's buttocks, to rub against his asshole. Lennart trembled, clutching the cross with his hands. He hadn't come while Bastiaan was beating him, but Bastiaan would bet it had been a near thing. If Lennart came back, Bastiaan would have to try and make him. Moving his fingers slowly around the puckered skin surrounding Lennart's hole, Bastiaan told him, "I could be gentle and slow, since it's your first time...or I could fuck you hard, and it will probably hurt."

Lennart whimpered. "Hard," he said, with a hoarse voice. "Please. As hard as you want."

Here he was, still saying dangerous things. Well, he had certainly proven he wasn't entirely foolish to do so; he was a genuine masochist who'd endured quite a first beating. And Bastiaan could always heal him right after, if it turned out he didn't enjoy it as much as he predicted.

Bastiaan lined up his cock, and pushed in.

Lennart's body offered shockingly little resistance. Lennart groaned as Bastiaan pushed inexorably in. "God," he croaked.

Bastiaan fucked him hard, never giving all the way in to the temptation to try and destroy Lennart, but certainly harder than he would usually fuck a virginal ass. Again, Lennart was much more vocal on the receiving end than he had been while penetrating Bastiaan. It was maddening.

Halfway through, Lennart started moaning, "Please, please," over and over again.

Bastiaan paused, to ask if he needed to stop, and Lennart cried, "No, don't stop, don't stop!" Which answered that question.

Lennart was practically sobbing by the time Bastiaan came. Bastiaan rested his face on Lennart's shoulder and reached around for his cock. He barely touched it before Lennart convulsed, shooting ropes of come onto the wall. Bastiaan kissed his shoulder, then the back of his neck. "Look at you," he murmured, "waiting to come until I let you. What a good boy."

Lennart gasped, and his cock twitched, but there was only a little dribble of fluid from it.

When Bastiaan had his body back under solid control, he pulled out of Lennart's ass. There was no blood, but Lennart did hiss a breath in through his teeth. Bastiaan said, "I'm going to untie you from the cross now. You think about how much you want me to heal you, okay? It doesn't look like I broke the skin anywhere, but you'll be pretty sore tomorrow if I don't."

"Mm," Lennart said. Bastiaan assumed he would have to repeat that later; Lennart didn't seem like he was completely back in the world yet.

Bastiaan released his ankles first. With only a little prompting, Lennart wiggled them and confirmed they felt fine. Bastiaan stood up to reach for his wrists as well. It took Lennart a little effort to unclench his hands from around the ends of the cross, and he stretched them and rotated his wrists without any prompting.

Bastiaan gently pressed himself flush to Lennart's back and kissed the back of his neck again. "Good boy," he murmured. He slipped his hands around Lennart's waist and eased him back from the cross. Lennart put his arms down, still flexing his hands and wrists, and leaned back against Bastiaan a little too heavily. Bastiaan staggered a bit, because it was unexpected, but he righted them, then led Lennart back to the bed.

"Did you think about how much healing you want?" Bastiaan asked. He'd had to lay down too, so Lennart could cling to him. That was something most of his vanilla customers didn't get, but many of the S&M crowd needed it afterwards. One reason Bastiaan didn't like doing it with vanilla customers was how intimate it felt, and he didn't really think fucking someone was necessarily that intimate, but flogging someone or fucking them until they were crying certainly was.

He attempted to ignore the voice in the back of his head saying he would have let Lennart cuddle him regardless.

After a moment, Lennart said muzzily, "Would it be possible to only heal me at the end of the night? I want to feel you a little longer."

Bastiaan smiled, and kissed Lennart's hair. "Sure," he said.

Unsurprisingly, Lennart fell asleep not long after. Bastiaan carefully slipped out of the bed to put away his dungeon things, then opened up the trunk where he kept his blankets. He rolled them out and pulled them up over Lennart, then went around to snuff the candles out. Then, when it was dark, he slipped back into the bed. Lennart stirred only enough to reattach himself to Bastiaan's side.

[dangerously-human]

The biggest question I've been asking myself in writing these next two sections of Living With the Ghost of You has been, why did Lockwood think Lucy left? What would he have been thinking in those four months, and how did he get from there to the decision to use Lucy's Listening skills to convince her to reconsider? Obviously everyone kind of blamed Lucy's departure on her tension with Holly, but at the same time, Lockwood at least knew there was more to it. And being Lockwood, he surely blamed himself in some capacity - not entirely inaccurately, as it turns out - but I've still been struggling to wrap my head around where things really left off between Lockwood and Lucy, because we only ever get her perspective, and his only secondhand, through Lucy's notoriously unreliable interpretation.

Anyway, for fic writing purposes, I've been bouncing around The Creeping Shadow, and I skipped ahead in my THB reread a bit, and oh. OH! I can't believe I didn't put this together until now, but: Lockwood tells Lucy, shortly after the "you know I'd die for you" declaration, that he avoided her after the Wintergarden case because he was afraid of what would happen in an operative situation, if her Talent put her in danger. He was afraid of how she was using it, to connect with ghosts on a personal level (rather than as mere objects to be destroyed), but also afraid of what that could do to her, and of making the wrong call re: defending her. Later, pulling her back in via a specialty Listener job tells her that he trusts her to use her Talent well, which she desperately needs to hear (after all, that's why she left, she's doubting herself and her judgement again, that's her trauma, she could hurt someone if her judgment lapses). It also says that he's no longer afraid of how he might react (though that part I don't think Lucy really gets). I'll have to see if I still think this after I finish this reread of The Hollow Boy, but I think Lockwood knows at this point (as in, early on in THB, if not before) that he loves Lucy. (I originally thought her leaving was the tipping point for him, but he's the more self-aware of the two by far, I really need to give him more credit.) He knows that he's going to try to defend her in ways she doesn't want him to, and maybe part of his fear is what he'll reveal through his reaction to Lucy being vulnerable that way. It's going to reopen old wounds about Jessica, yes, but it's also going to open up some pretty big feelings about Lucy herself. And Lockwood's trying to say, underneath Aickmere's, that he's willing to try anyway, but now Lucy has had that confrontation with the hollow boy, and she's aware of being Lockwood's weakness without realizing that she's his strength, too. And in fairness, Lockwood hasn't really put in the work yet to figure out how to live for his love of Lucy, he's only just coming to realize that's something beyond his willingness to die for love of her - so they both do have a lot to work out in themselves first. Which is why the "I'm leaving to protect you from yourself" trope actually works here.

Ooh, I'm yelling!! This is the best part of writing fanfiction, when it prompts you to really dig deep in your understanding of canon. Doesn't always make the words flow any easier, but at least now I know what I'm aiming for, because I know the endpoints I'm trying to connect. Big aha moment for me tonight.

Oh, no, and now my heart is breaking all over again about Lockwood's efforts to convince Lucy not to leave. No wonder he got angry by the end. He's just displayed an incredible level of vulnerability with her - about his past, and also getting as close as he can (yet) to admitting that he loves her - and she turns around and leaves him, without really explaining why. Well, dang, that stings. I mean, I had all of that already pieced together, but the extra factor of her seemingly running away from his feelings for her - ah. Ouch.

[mdhwrites]

Jumbled Thoughts: The Problem With “Too Little, Too Late” Featuring The Owl House‘s Willow

Before I really get started, I want to let people know that this problem with writing has gained a unique spin to it in the modern age of social media and fandoms. I’ll put something in bold text if you want to skip to that part because... I think it’s a problem fandoms don’t realize even can happen. Anyways: So... tell me if you’ve heard this with writing before: A writer will sometimes leave breadcrumbs inside their story. Innocuous lines or character traits that seem benign but like any good eldritch horror, much more lurks beneath the surface. You don’t think about it though unless you’re really paying attention. So it continues to simmer, either watched with anticipation or more likely ignored pleasantly. And then BAM! All these little breadcrumbs come together into a five course meal! Reveal of how it all connects and winds together and it makes all those little moments all the more satisfying because you can see what they were leading up to. What they were hinting. But they never got the attention to make you think they had to be revealed until now. That is foreshadowing and is commonly believed to be a REALLY good writing technique. “Too little, too late” is when you make a tasty sub-sandwich, with the works, promise you’ll give it to your friend for lunch and then give it to them a month later when it’s blue, the vegetables are mush, the meat is possibly genuinely becoming an eldritch being and the person is just left asking why you bothered bringing it to them at all when clearly you should have thrown it away and focused your attention elsewhere. Or to not use a metaphor: Foreshadowing de-emphasizes elements that are still within the story so as to have them but not make it obvious how important they are so when they become important, it means something BUT there isn’t a time limit because the reveal is the only time that it matters. This happens with a lot of villain schemes or when the innocuous sword that the hero wields turns out to actually be super cool and awesome. These are elements that work in the narrative no matter what when they happen and the foreshadowing only makes them better because you could have seen it coming and it helps the moment feel planned. “Too little, too late” instead is when a juicy plot or character hook is dangled in your face, given importance and made potentially critical to a character or the plot... And then doesn’t go resolved until so much time has passed that you maybe forgot the plot hook existed at all. Or, worse yet, so much time and stuff has happened that the plot point no longer feels valid. Which brings me to our example today: Willow Park from The Owl House. Now... describing Willow is a rough thing to do because the show barely treats her as a character until... Season 3? Okay, there’s a blip in Season 2 that I’ll bring up because it is a form of follow up, even if not a good one. What you need to know for this lesson is that Willow: Is presented early on as struggling with her emotions and magic and this is resolved in episode 6 of Season 1. After this, she is commonly characterized as being literally the strongest magic user of her age, maybe in the world, at least in her specialty. She was bullied heavily by a character who eventually joined the main cast (and Willow was friends with before the bullying) and this joining happened in episode 15 of Season 1 when Willow said that while she could forgive, she didn’t know if she was ready to call her a friend. This sets up the plot point of the two properly reconciling. This also ends her bullying as she is characterized as having been heavily bullied before now and becomes weirdly popular after this episode. It truly gets dealt with in Episode 18 of Season 1 though to be fair. And these are her main plot points. If you’re expecting a character dissection, don’t. This is specifically about how her plot points are treated because that’s what this writing lesson is about. So there are your main plot hooks and when they happened. So... When are they followed up on? Well, we’ll go in reverse actually because the show did and that’s not a joke. First was following up on her relationship with her ex-friend/ex-bully. Seeing as this character became a CRUCIAL member of the cast, literally the girlfriend to the main character who is also one of Willow’s very few friends, it would make sense that such a plot hook would be followed up on pretty quickly. Maybe given some importance at least within the first half of S2, maybe even earlier as Willow theoretically is a main supporting character of the show and to just leave her hanging is a problem. Literally nothing happens with Willow until the SECOND HALF of Season 2. And there was a mid-season hiatus for the show worse yet. So you have two hiatuses and FIFTEEN episodes before this plot point is revisited. And when it is, it’s a brief moment, still focused on the bully character mostly, with Willow just saying, “Hey, it’s still weird that you’re so open with me.” So it pretty much reinforces “This was important to this character,” while doing nothing with it and so late that you might go, especially with events that have happened with the bully character. This gets worse though. In Season 2 Episode 18 they FINALLY talk. Literally over a season, they finally have an argument about how Willow used to be treated and how her ex-friend is treating now... And it’s about her ex-friend still seeing her as not strong. That’s it. Not if they’re friends, not if they actually care about each other or the work needed to work with one another. It is about a character who, even before this plot hook was brought up, was commonly portrayed as STUPIDLY POWERFUL. There are explanations... And put a pin it because it has to do with that other side of this problem. So what about the other problem? The one that’s WAY worse? Well... Remember: Willow solves her problem between her magic and her emotions in episode 6 of the series. It NEVER comes back up in S1 or S2. Never in a form of a of control or the like. She is a perfect witch after that episode. In SEASON THREE, Special 2 because the show’s third season was shortened to three specials, it gets brought back. Literally two seasons later. After the plot hook has been resolved for two seasons. Worse yet, despite the bully problem being resolved also back in Season 1, IT ALSO COMES BACK. And mind you, at this point the world is fucked because a child-like GOD has decided to start turning people into puppets. And we’re back to talking about school bullies IN THE SCHOOL SETTING EVEN. What these elements get brought back for might be good but... Here’s the fundamental question? Why should an audience care? What makes it feel foreshadowed... to a regular person? The Spin on This This is not a problem in fandoms. Fandoms are going to theorize and talk plot points like this on a damn near daily basis. People were SCREAMING about these plot points between Seasons 1 and 2 of The Owl House. They still cared. They still saw it as foreshadowing because they constantly remind themselves about these elements. But this is a problem for the casual viewer. The one not on social media, talking about it, they just like the show and tune in when a season shows up because they remember enough to be happy to see it continue. These people AREN’T getting constant reminders and don’t have a deep enough connection with the show to remember every episode in vivid detail. They aren’t going to be theorizing about something that feels solved. And they sure aren’t going to care about a side character who hasn’t had anything happen with them for half a season or more. This is where the fact that foreshadowing usually precipitates a moment that works in the narrative no matter what is actually really important. A moment that doesn’t get contradicted by what the normal status quote of the show is. It instead builds on what the status quote is with a twist on elements you thought were normal but weren’t. “Too little, too late” happens when the casual viewer has no reason to even care. When even if the emotion might be good or the character well written, a normal viewer might reasonably go, “UGH, this character? With this plot? I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THIS!” because... The story led them to believe that. That’s where solving plot hooks and forgetting to reintroduce becomes even worse. And the real death knell? When the scale no longer matches the plot hook you abandoned. That whole ‘month later’ thing from the metaphor isn’t just about literal time. It’s also about scale. Dealing with an issue like your school bullies or the tenuous friendship you have with a reformed ex-bully makes sense to pursue when the issues you are dealing with are on par or a bit higher. If the characters are still going to a school, or starting to expand the settings and threats they’re dealing with beyond that, those plot hooks make sense with the setting and tone. If you’ve expanded to worrying about a small god destroying an entire realm on a whim or an army is actively on your trail, etc. like that... You have gone too far to deal with that plot point. A viewer has every right to not want to bother with this small stuff when other characters might be dealing with the potential deaths of loved ones, how they’re going to handle the threat, or just literally anything to do with what is happening in the narrative currently, not what happened back when whether or not you could prove yourself to crush was a big deal. At that point, this better be genuinely something CRUCIAL to the narrative or... Maybe you could have just decided to throw it away. Focus on what is there and what does matter to the narrative because when the time for these plot hooks made sense is just... gone. You’ve done too little and it’s too late. Even if you put a lot of heart and love into that sandwich you made, into this thing your friend wanted, the right thing to do as a friend is to throw it away and figure how else you can do what you want. Because no one wants that month old sandwich and you didn’t even refrigerate to give it a chance of survival, you obviously cared so little.

[kob131]

RWBY X Justice League: Superheroes and Huntsmen Part One Review (No Spoilers)

Dedicating this to @fallentitan98

So if I had to sum up the movie in a sentence, it would be-

“This should have been about 30-40 minutes longer.”

Summary:

So basic idea of the movie is ‘What if the Justice League found themselves in the world of RWBY as teenagers?’ This basic idea guides the whole movie, from the tone of the Justice League characters to how the movie is presented. 

Unforunately, both RWBY and ESPECIALLY DC are heavily dense properties with a bit of history at least behind them. So this causes some...issues.

Characters:

When it comes to a crossover event, judging characters is rather different since you have to judge them based on how they are portrayed in relation to their original counterparts. I will relate the DC characters to you but my focus will have to be on RWBY as that is my specialty here.

For DC, we have the likes of Superman/Clark, Wonder Woman/Diana, Batman/Bruce, The Flash/Barry, Green Lantern, Vixen and Cyborg. ... I grew up with the 2000′s JL cartoon, I just have the names of those four stuck in me okay?

With Vixen, Cyborg, Green Lantern and Diana- they seem consistent with the popular depiction of their characters. Cyborg is a bit sarcastic but well meaning; Vixen is frustrated by the situation but also confident and upbeat; Green Lantern is having issues which becomes an arc she gets and Diana is basically a warrior poet.

Barry is...off for reasons.

Clark has two lines in the movie that seem a bit too confident for him but that could be something that pops up in certain incarnations. Otherwise, he is the same Man of Steel as always- pure, wholesome, kind, responsible and having a grounded wisdom to him. To be truthful, Clark and his interactions with Ruby were my favorite parts of the movie.

And then we have Bruce. Bruce has an arc centered around a key aspect of the Batman character and how it can conflict with the core of who Bruce is as a hero- determined to save people. It can be considered massively missing the mark OR an exploration of Bruce’s character. It’s weird, much like the movie itself. But no, he is not a joke in the movie nor is he a generic brooding man. He is a calm, cool, smart and analytical man.

As for RWBY characters...things are off with them.

Yang, Blake and Jaune are perfectly fine. They’re relatively consistent to their Beacon characterization with Jaune lacking some of his patheticness, instead using his ability to support others both figuratively and literally which works because spoilers.

Ren and Nora have a...not-love triangle thing with Cyborg (this is not a spoiler, it does nothing) that feels like 95% of it was cut. Other than that, they’re consistent too.

And Ruby has an arc that involves Clark that makes sense for her character (especially if you watch Volume 9) but because the movie is like a skeleton- the meat of the arc is a bit lacking.

Gonna be honest- The RWBY cast feels the most off between them and the DC characters. Which makes sense when you consider the writer is from DC, not RT. Still, I would say it functions as intended. Just not very smoothly.

Animation:

The animation is actually pretty damn good. The fight scenes have good flow to them, a good sense of speed and momentum for the most part, interesting action. And the more casual animation works- faces emote and move properly, movements and gestures are effective in communicating the meaning behind the characters’ words.

This is one of the best showing for the CRWBY team yet.

Humor:

Almost entirely subjective. All I can say is it’s standard RWBY fair minus 2D anime cliches. Also no, this is not MCU humor. RT was doing this in RvB in 2004.

Plot, Pacing and Tone:

Okay, it is REALLY hard to talk about this without spoiling anything because good lord, is this movie densely packed.

Character interactions and plot progression are often mashed together with each other, which can often result in very awkward lines. Fortunately for DC fans, this is almost entirely on the RWBY end. Because much of the awkwardness comes from the writing needing to explain RWBY worldbuilding to the DC characters without having enough time for exposition. For example, Weiss outright calls Dust a ‘natural resource’, which while true has NEVER been how Weiss has talked about Dust in the past.

As for tone- it’s similar to Volumes 1 and 2. Some serious moments but general light hearted fun. Both DC and RWBY characters become the butt of jokes as well as moments to have more emotional and vulnerable instances. It’s not deathly serious like many DC properties nor does it have the same gravity as something like the 2000′s JL cartoons. But it’s not Teen Titans Go. It’s a mix of plot and humor.

Conclusion:

The whole movie feels...weird. I think this is what ‘rushed’ was originally supposed to mean. At 80 minutes, this is a rather short movie and it doesn’t really work. Humor and animation are fine because time doesn’t usually affect these. But the plot and especially the characters? There’s just not enough time to go through the proper steps. Things like the reveal of the villain or Ruby and Bruce’s arcs could work. They’re not exactly failures but they have been stripped of their meat. And the meat is what you taste in a movie, not the bones that make up the structure.

Bruce’s writing might set you off- it’s the biggest risk taken here. And the RWBY parts are a bit...off. So I can’t say this was fantastic or great. But it does give some good action, the character interactions between Ruby and Bruce, Yang, Blake and Diana; and Jaune and Green Lantern are great and the rest is given a real shot, just without the time to flourish.

All in all, an honest but stumbling effort of a movie.

[heirbane]

At the end of the story, after you have felled countless, faceless minions of the Empire, your final fight is up against the one who commanded them all... the General overseeing the region's takeover, only known as The Black Wolf.

He asks you one question: for whom do you fight?

(Left to right: Genesect, Aegislash, Zoroark, Mightyena, Midnight Lycanroc, Type: Null)

With six Pokemon taken from all corners of the known world, the Black Wolf has been afforded all luxuries. His Pokemon are man-made or well-bred; they were hand-picked for the General, their measure taken and weighed. Even the Pokemon curated for world domination, Type Null, came after years of research and experimentation. If any Pokemon could help the Empire take over Eorzea, it would be the Eikon Killer.

Alas, it was not to be. You - a nobody, a simple adventurer - take down the Black Wolf and the military encampment he's sequestered himself in. You get out just before the entire stronghold goes up in flames, and the credits roll. You, a newbie trainer, have taken down the entire Empire, and one of the Empire's best Generals to boot.

Until you reach post-game content, that is, and locate one specific trainer among the reedy, swampy outskirts of a town you simply passed through: Milisandia.

(Pictured: Solrock)

If you beat her fair and square, she will comment on your strength - and the bond you seem to share with your Pokemon. She invites you back to her hometown on the beach, thinking you may be the one fight that reinvigorates her father.

If you follow her directions, you will return to a village previously visited - but now the home is able to be interacted with, and the same woman from before answers the door.

Milisandia introduces you to all of her siblings. In swift succession, you are forced to contend with all of them. The woman has spoken highly of you, and she hopes you don't disappoint! You fight Milisandia again - with both her trusty Solrock and the family's pet, Granbull, Victor:

(Pictured: Solrock, Granbull)

Ricon, with his Sableye, it's eyes somewhere between unblinking ceruleum and sapphire:

Rex, with his incredibly loyal Houndoom:

Finally, you face Alphonse and Allie together as a two-on-two battle.

Allie's two chosen are Mismagius and Gardevoir; Alphonse has Aggron and Gallade.

At the end of that, only then can you fight their father... a man who simply asks,

"Is your answer the same, Adventurer?"

(Left to right: Aegislash, Silvally, and Midnight Lycanroc.)

If his question doesn't sell his identity, the order of his attacks will. Even lacking the Empire-given beasts, the man has gained much and more: an appreciation for his companions, one of which bloomed and blossomed under his newfound humanity, no longer stagnantly treated as a test subject.

(If further investigation is needed: his Aegislash has learned a bastardized version of X-Scissor, a move that he had specifically taught his Genesect. Without the hulking steel beast, the man has turned to his sword.)

After defeating the Wolf, Gaius explains what all happened. His discharge from the Empire, his return to his children's hometown, his feeling of being lost. He will present you with money winnings and a hold item that, if pinned to your bag, will allow you to teleport out of any battle, regardless of the ability to flee. He will also offer to teach one Pokemon his specialty: Terminus Est, the move he taught his Aegislash. He will teach it once to one Pokemon, and it cannot be passed down.

At any point you can return to challenge the Black Wolf or his children, talk to their Granbull, or take a berry or two from their garden. (He would offer you a place to rest, he says, but there is not a bed to spare in their little cottage.)

[csigoose]

A low, practiced whistle took Aria’s attention from her phone where she was trying to read an article about the vigilante crime ring operating out of Ketterdam. She looked at Natalya beside her and raised her brows. They only used that whistle for one thing. Hot Guy Alert. Natalya jutted her chin toward the entry of the theater in an attempt to look discreet. Unfortunately, discretion was never her specialty, and more than a few of their seat neighbors looked up to witness the newest couple walking up the steps to the seats.

To be fair, it was more than a hot guy. No, the woman at his side was also unmistakably beautiful in ways that Aria didn’t even know how to describe. The man was tall with severe, pale cheekbones and a scar slashed across his cheekbone like a fashion statement, and that was without mentioning the white collared shirt with the sleeves cuffed up and black vest he wore, completing the look with black gloves and a walking stick. And the woman leading them to their seats--dead center--had dark-tanned skin that seemed to glimmer in the sickly theater lights, but that could have easily been explained by the sparkly white top she wore with satin tuxedo pants. Both of them wore black masks that covered the lower halves of their faces, paying no attention to their obvious audience.

It was obvious what these two people had planned for their day with their too-stylish outfits. The famed five-hour marathon. Barbenheimer.

“Damn,” Aria whispered as the couple sat down a few rows ahead of them. “I wish I had a boyfriend like that.”

Natalya snorted. “He probably only agreed to come to this in exchange for her seeing Oppenheimer. No self-respecting woman is dressing up for that nonsense.” A few strangers around them murmured their agreement, some going as far as to nod.

Aria wasn’t convinced. “I think they look nice,” she said, settling back into her seat as the lights dimmed for the previews. The couple obviously wasn’t from around here, and they must have traveled a long way to get here. It was one of the few theatres this side of the Unsea that had the proper IMAX capabilities for Nolan’s “true artistic endeavor.” She didn’t even really like biopics, but she would have liked to see Oppenheimer, too, if any of her friends would have agreed to go with. She wasn’t one for going to Movies alone.

She watched as the guy pointed at the different trailers, whispering something to the girl at his side. Whatever he said, it made her burst into giggles, shaking their head. They were oddly silent through the trailer for The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes before the girl pointed to the screen. ‘I want to see that,’ Aria could hear her whisper in Kerch. The man in the suit nodded.

So, they weren’t from here. If they were speaking Kerch, which Aria barely understood--skating by when she took two years of it in High School, and looked so expensive... They had to have been from Ketterdam. That was the only place that circulated that sort of money. She thought back to the article she read earlier. Were they here to escape the so-called Vigilantes?

The movie starting kept her from contemplating the couple’s origin story any longer, and Aria was enveloped in a parcel of pink plastic. But despite how pretty the movie was, or how much she and her friends laughed at the quips--she couldn’t stop staring at the couple ahead of her.

(You know the deal! Click the link to read more!!)

[wingsdreamt]

Rampage was possibly putting it mildly. 

SOLDIER, infantry, and general office staff alike knew when to give the self-proclaimed Speed Demon a very wide berth, and no time was there quite like now, as he would trudge through the 49th floor, a wild glint to his eye, and looking for one Zack Fair.

Roche didn’t need to ask the inevitable questions, word enough from the pretty receptionist down in the foyer as she would gush and fawn to her desk-mate over his raven-haired superior was all the Third needed to understand this particular SOLDIER was on-site. And he knew exactly where to find this sneak thief. 

The training simulator. 

There were no room for common courtesies, not when there were answers to be had, and so the blond would barge through that door like a bulldozer on a mission, to find the man in the full throws of his latest little gaming session. Thick soles would squeak against the metalic floor as he would stomp towards the control panel and mashed his fist into the bright red  button which would bring Zack Fair’s fictional little world crashing down about his very eyes. He hit the thing so hard, in fact, he would surprise himself later that he didn't shove his hand right through the panel itself...

Though at least Roche would wait - still dressed in his usual oil stained attire adorned down in the bowels of the maintenance workshops - until Zack would remove his visor before fixing him with a belligerent glare only accentuated via the way in which he would shake the now empty toolbox - which had once housed a plethora of snacks and treats collected and archived over a vast period of week - in the Second's general direction.

“You have five seconds to explain this to me, Fair…” Roche was certainly not impressed, indicated at least within the dark, low drone of his tone, and an unimpressed Roche is often a rather flighty and dangerous one… 

“... think quickly now!”

An abrupt end to any simulation is jarring. Swoosh, like having the ground dropping away beneath his feet to join the wild flip flopping of his stomach when suddenly introduced to the sensation of freefall in the dithering pixels of darkness between virtual reality and the blank feed of his headset in the real world.

 “Uh…” Zack inclines his head in the direction of the voice of a man who has clearly found his prey. His eyes flit down to the empty toolbox hanging from Roche’s hand, then back up to Roche himself and his darkening, ominous expression. 

The seconds tick by and Zack’s mouth hangs open. No sound comes out, despite his want for it. 

“Uhhhhh….” Longer this time, more drawn out as Zack carefully, slowly edges away from Roche’s approach like a cornered animal while pushing up his visor with one hand to peek out at Roche beneath its lip. “I can explain.”

‘You have crappy taste in snacks’ probably isn’t a very good opening statement. In all honesty– Zack had meant well. The absence of Roche’s hoard of sundries, sweet and savory, were orchestrated with good intentions. Replace the hotel lobby, doctor’s waiting room, and tacky gift counter-standard candies with the good stuff and let his dear friend reap the benefits of enjoying real treats while he tinkered away in the workshop. Zack merely forgot about the most critical step in that plan. 

Like replacing the actual snacks. 

Alright. He can absolutely maybe salvage this before Roche came up and chomped his head clean off– “I was gonna get you a bunch of stuff from my favorite sweets shop! They have stuff from all over the world, and I thought you’d enjoy it a lot. I hid all your stuff and I was going to replace it all with some of the specialty candies and then…” Zack wilts like a neglected house plant. He stands partially bent over, arms hanging limply in front of him with his head down in shame. “And then…I forgot to actually replace them…” 

[purplesurveys]

1602

How many people have you liked this year? Zero.

How many pills do you take a day? None. If not prescribed I only take one for headaches, and even then I try not to make it a habit for every headache I ever get.

Do you have any celebrity crushes? I have the biggest one on Kim Namjoon these days. Also Song Hyekyo because sis is totally in the middle of her revenge era and I’m here for it.

If you could have one superpower, what would it be? Either time travel or space travel, if only either didn’t have the complications they pose.

Do you put ketchup on top of your French fries or on the side? Side, because I don’t like ketchup and putting it on the side would allow me to ignore it lol. No but seriously, I prefer any condiment to be on the side when eating fries.

Where did you last sleep other than your house? Our accommodation in Zambales.

Where did you get your last bruise from? It’s been a while since I got one but the last is probably from doggy playtime gone wrong. My bruises these days are almost always from those.

Is it okay to kiss people when you’re single? Well yeah, unless you’re single and kissing a taken/married person?

Ever worn something of the opposite sex's clothing? Sure. A shirt I bought last week was off the men’s section.

Do you have a secret that no one knows but you? Sure.

Last CD you blasted through your car stereo? I haven’t inserted a CD in my car in years, but the last song I listened to was most likely something from Indigo as I’ve tuned in to that album all month long.

How many email accounts do you have? I have three main ones - 1 work email, 2 personal emails.

Who is the best cook in your family? My dad is literally head chef on a cruise ship so that’s a no-brainer. Other than him, both my grandmas are fantastic cooks and have their own specialties, so it makes every visit to them exciting haha.

Which baby animal is your favorite? Puppies and elephants.

Have you ever carved a pumpkin? No, we don’t do that here.

When is the last time you went to a carnival? Oh man. Must have been a pre-pandemic fair in either my high school or university.

Do you have a favorite glass, cup, or mug? I don’t have one, I just go with whichever mug my hand reaches out for first from our mug rack.

What branch of science interests you the most? Biology. Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Numerous reports and reaction papers in college. My thesis was also over 100 pages long.

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with via text? I haven’t had deep conversations through text since my last partner.

Twitter or Tumblr? Twitter. I’m only here for surveys and the occasional fanfic if my favorite author happens to update or publish stories.

Have you ever been given a lapdance by an actual stripper? Nope.

Favorite YouTuber? Josh and Ollie of Korean Englishman. Most of the time though I watch more structured(?) channels like Watcher, Try Guys, About to Eat, Vice Asia, Asian Boss, Business Insider, etc., instead of more laidback people who talk to the camera from like their bedroom/studio.

Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? To an extent. I wouldn’t say this was a main trait of theirs though.

Have you ever written a love letter to someone as a joke? No. If not an inside joke between friends, wouldn’t this be a shitty thing to do?

Do you have any gay family members? I have inklings but otherwise nobody is out.

Was your first kiss romantic? Yes, it was.

What are you most likely to go to jail for? Hurting someone who hurt my dog. < This is true, but personally it applies to anyone I would see hurting animals. When we were in Sagada’s town center buying souvenirs there was this dude who ran over a dog (I knew the dog should have been in blatant view from his car when the incident occurred) and I didn’t hesitate to scream and call him out, only stopping because my mom forcefully pulled me away from the scene. Crowds be damned - I did what I best could to the piece of shit. Anyway, right after the gigantic waste of skin drove off, I stayed long enough to check on the dog – he managed to get out unscathed and I only calmed down once I saw him scampering away.

Who was the last person to sleep over at your house? My sister’s friend.

What would you think if you found out your ex was gay? She is. The more applicable question would be what I’d think if she turned out straight, to which I’d be very surprised. She’s the biggest misandrist I know, so I’d never expect such a change.

How many people has your best friend had sex with? For one of them, just one. I’m not sure with the other best friend.

When was the last time you had a conversation with an ex? Two years ago.

Are you currently “appearing offline” to anybody? My Messenger is set in such a way that I look offline. It’s been in that setting for the last two? three-ish years and I have no plans to change it ever because it’s not like people look at the green dot anymore lol.

What were you for Halloween last year? I was that all-black character with a mask from Squid Game. Can’t remember the name anymore.

Do you believe that karma can come back and slap you in the face? I don’t believe it’s karma necessarily, but your decisions can definitely come back and bite you, that’s for sure. < Yeah, sounds about right.

Have you ever been to Texas? I haven’t. Not really high up on the list in terms of places in the USA I want to visit.

Do your siblings text you? My sister and I mainly communicate through Messenger. She never has load so we don’t text.

Have you ever searched for your own house on Google Earth? Sure. I’ve done the same for places I regularly go to, my old schools, boujee villages in Manila just so I can see how many houses have swimming pools LOL, etc.

Did your last kiss end up with you and the person doing anything sexual? No.

Who is your ex dating/talking to? Somebody. I’m not sure, I don’t keep touch and I’ve asked my friends not to tell me about it for the simple reason that it’s not relevant to my life anymore.

Who did you last pinky promise with? Can’t remember. I don’t do those.

Did you ever have to share a room with one of your siblings? I had to share a room with both parents and siblings until I was 10. And then for like one week in high school my sister and I shared a bedroom until we both decided we don’t like the arrangement lol.

What happened at the last party you went to? I won a minor prize in the raffle, had the best mushroom soup I’ve EVER had, and tried to convince people that I was dressed up as Winnie the Pooh (the party was Disney-themed) haha.

Have you ever completely misunderstood what somebody was saying? Yeah, at least a few times a week.

When was the last time you felt ill? What was wrong? May 2020, turned out to be a UTI. Was a bitch trying to get treatment for it considering that was Peak Peak PEAK Pandemic Era and all hospitals and clinics were prioritizing Covid cases. What a time.

Who was your first best friend? Do you still speak to that person? Angela! Yeah I literally messaged her that we should get drinks soon like 5 minutes ago.

Are you wearing anything that was given to you as a gift? I’m wearing the Koya slippers that my dad got me for Christmas. I got two pairs! The other Koya pair was given to me by Angela and I switch them everyday to make sure I’m making good use of both hahaha.

What is your least favourite song, by your favourite artist? War of Hormone makes my eyes roll all the way back to the ninth level of hell. Does it make me a hypocrite? Yes. Will I continue to dislike the song? Yup.

What color is your jewelry box? I don’t have one. I don’t have nearly enough jewelry/accessories to justify getting one.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? No.

What is your brother/sister’s favorite food? My sister is into sushi these days.

Do you have any ice cream in your freezer? What flavour is it? We haven’t in a while, but I can bet someone will get a tub for media noche.

In your life, who is the person that seems to understand you the most? Angela.

Are you afraid of losing the person you like right now? I don’t like anyone.

Does anyone know your Facebook password? I don’t think so.

Would you ever consider getting a piercing in your septum? I wouldn’t consider getting any piercings.

Do you enjoy being outdoors? If the weather cooperates and I like where we’re headed, yes.

Gay marriage: love is love or a horrible stand against God? The former; get religion out of the way.

How many times have you been to a zoo? Several. What’re some unspeakable subjects for you? Nothing really. I’m an open book, and if I cover a topic that could potentially invite discomfort it’s only because other people asked for it lol.

[thrythlind]

Willow Weaver - Scion 2e, advance to Legend 4

(going ahead and taking her to the end of hero) Initial Creation Link My assumption for this is:

Origin starts with her transformation, extends to her surviving that initial story. I'm going to estimate about 20 experience over 5 sessions, which is pretty average from my experience with the game, though our group does press the octane a fair amount.

Legend 1 is going to be another story entirely, but I don't have particulars. Might come up with something for that later. I'm assuming 10 sessions for this and about 50 experience. (when you shift from Origin to Hero, you start earning more experience for some things).

Legend 2 is going to be a slightly longer story and go to about 75 experience for 15 experience.

Legend 3 is going to be about the same and again be about 15 sessions for 75 experience.

Let's start with Origin > Hero Legend 1

Origin Experience costs

For 10 xp, she's going to pick up "Red of Tooth and Claw" as a Monster knack, she wouldn't be able to use that and Presence of Magic at the same time in Origin because she only has the one Knack slot, but that'll change as soon as she gets to Hero.

For 5 xp, she's going to increase Athletics to 3 and get the specialty of "Climbing" (again, this is a house rule to get a free specialty at 3)

For another 5 xp, she's going to get Survival at 1.

Then we go through the process of changing from Origin to Hero

First, adding two more callings and 4 calling dots... one of which is going to be Monster, so I'm going to change the Calling her guide gives her to being something else, will decide that later.

New Calling Arrangement is: Sage ** Monster ** Psychopomp **

For Knacks the official rules say bring it up to 5, but I don't like basically shorting XP spends, so another House Rule is I'm just adding 4 knacks. And she is getting the following:

Sage: Presence of Magic, Master of the World Monster: Red of Tooth and Claw (Natural, Melee, Lethal, Brutal, Grappling), Keeper of Taboos, Seizing Jaws (Silk Webbing) Psychopomp: Companion of the Grave, Keeper of the Keys

Also, something I didn't do before, but time to assign some keywords as well.

Sage: Wood, Balance Monster: Spider, Web Psychopomp: Cocoon, Wave

Technically, birthrights are supposed to be last, but I think I'm going to spend those now and get 7 more points of birthrights.

First, upgrading the Guide to rank 5

Guide 5 (The Spider Spirit, unnamed right now) Asset Skills: Occult, Close Combat Legendary Title: The Many Eyes of the Seal Purviews: Beast (Spider), Water Stunt: Extended Presence, when you roll Occult, You can extend your mind into that of the spiders in the scene. Spend 1-3 successes. For each success you spend you gain a +1 enhancement to your next Procedure or Intrigue roll to investigate that area.

Then taking a relic

Silken River (Relic 3) A simple necklace of carven willow wood capped around spider-silk and made to resemble a river. Motif: Everything is a web, you just need to pull the right threads to affect change. Purviews: Chaos, Order, Water Knack: Can summon, "The Swarm"

The Swarm - Followers (3) By using the Silken River, she can summon the Swarm to the area, these are a collective of tiny spiders formed of water, grass, dirt, or whatever sort of material is most loosely available. They are useful for investigation, blocking passage, intimidating and other such things. At need, they can also bite people. Consultant, Group, Mob, Archetype: Heavy

And time for some purviews. I note here that I didn't set her patron specifically, and as a former sorcerer turned scion, I'm giving her the Magic purview. Not sure I'll do a specific patron since I'm not actually doing a real earth setting.

Inherent: Yaoyoruzu-no-Kamigami, Magic Guide Purview: Beasts (Spider), Water Relic: Chaos, Order

For Boons I'm choosing the following:

Assumption of the God-form (Magic) Animal Aspect (Beast)

Legend becomes 1

And I choose the Legendary title of "Cocoon Born"

That puts the character sheet to looking like this: Athletics 3 (Climbing) Close Combat: 3 (Ambush) Culture: 5 (Cults) Integrity: 3 (Focus) Occult: 5 (Exorcism) Persuasion 3 (Intimidation) Subterfuge: 2 Survival: 1 Physical - Might **** - Dexterity *** - Stamina **** Mental - Reason *** - Cunning ** - Resolve **** Social - Presence ** - Manipulation ** - Composure **** Legend: 1

Monster ** (Red of Tooth and Claw, Keeper of Taboos, Seizing Jaws) Sage ** (Presence of Magic, Master of the World) Psychopomp ** (Keeper of Keys, Companion of the Grave)

Red of Tooth and Claw - Claws (Natural, Melee, Lethal, Brutal, Grappling) Keywords: - Sage: Balance, Wood - Monster: Spider, Web - Psychopomp: Cocoon, Wave

Legendary Title: Cocoon Born Inherent: Yaoyoruzu-no-Kamigami, Magic Guide Purview: Beasts (Spider), Water Relic: Chaos, Order

Boons: Assumption of the Godform Animal Aspect

Guide 5 (The Spider Spirit, unnamed right now) Asset Skills: Occult, Close Combat Legendary Title: The Many Eyes of the Seal Purviews: Beast (Spider), Water Stunt: Extended Presence, when you roll Occult, You can extend your mind into that of the spiders in the scene. Spend 1-3 successes. For each success you spend you gain a +1 enhancement to your next Procedure or Intrigue roll to investigate that area.

Silken River (Relic 3) A simple necklace of carven willow wood capped around spider-silk and made to resemble a river. Motif: Everything is a web, you just need to pull the right threads to affect change. Purviews: Chaos, Order, Water Knack: Spend momentum to summon "The Swarm"

The Swarm - Followers (3) By using the Silken River, she can summon the Swarm to the area, these are a collective of tiny spiders formed of water, grass, dirt, or whatever sort of material is most loosely available. They are useful for investigation, blocking passage, intimidating and other such things. At need, they can also bite people. Consultant, Group, Mob, Archetype: Heavy

Then we advance to Legend 2 with 50 xp (side note spend costs when you go Hero ALSO change) Hero Experience Costs

Cunning +2 (8) Dexterity +2 (8) Survival +2 (4) - Free Specialty (Stealth) Presence +1 (4) Birthright: Cult +3 (6) Academics +3 (6) - Free Specialty (Exorcism) Manipulation +1 (4) Integrity +2 (4) Close Combat +1 (2) Leadership +2 (4)

And let's build that cult.

Foundation: Conspiracy (2 Shadow), +1 Light, +1 Shadow. Tags: Coven, Temple (Shadow), Reliquary (Shadow) Access: Hidden Sites of Power (Shadow) Contacts: Occult Historians (Light)

She has taken up a strong position with a cult of followers that keep their membership mostly secret, save a small group of occult history professors in various colleges. They are opposed to the same mystery cult that kept the spider sealed and nearly killed her. It's possible she formed the cult out of people that she helped, or maybe it was a pre-existing cult that has just chosen her as their object of reverence.

This is also where we boost her Legend to 2

She picks up another Calling dot and she's going to add it two Monster since she this will let her use all of her existing knacks. This also means a new title and keyword.

Monster: Divine Title: Holder of Balance

I'll do the full character sheet again at Legend 4

And now, time to spend another 75 xp

And having just noticed the "Titanic Mutations" section... think I'll go with that.

Titanic Mutation 4 Dots (20) Might +1 (4) Stamina +1 (4) Reason +1 (4) Resolve +1 (4) Composure +1 (4) Manipulation +2 (8) Presence +1 (4) Immortal Monster Knack: Sloughing Form (2) Immortal Sage Knack: Overworld Knowledge (2) Immortal Psychopomp Knack: Be Not Afraid (2) Psychopomp Knack: On the Sound of Water (2) Psychopomp Knack: Cracking the Egg (2) Psychopomo Knack: Tending the Egg (2) Sage Knack: Palace of Memory (2) General Knack: Aura of Greatness (2) Integrity Specialty: Courage (2) Persuasion Specialty: Negotiation (2) Occult Specialty: Transformation (2)

And save 1 XP for next stage

Let's design this Mutation

Motif: Many Eyes and Sinew of Silk Boon: +1 enhancement on rolls that cause fear or benefit from the target being afraid of you Bane: Torturers are your favored target. Purview: Epic Dexterity, Epic Stamina Armor: Chiton (Hard 1, Soft 2) Deed: Devour the Evil Condition: Titanic Visage

Side note, this is a weakness of just doing this as a block of points to spend... the spends come very ephemerally with no real narrative hook. If I were playing this out, I would have picked up the mutation much earlier and it would have developed slowly.

Now we deal with what she gets from Legend going to 3

First an Omen, and this is going to be a chittering susurrus and the presence of shadowy swarms of spiders as her eyes gleam red with six extra eyes being more visible. This starts to appear as she spends legend.

She also gets a 3rd Boon: No Masters

And a third title: The Web that Shelters

Which brings us to Legend 3's xp spends, which is a total of 76

Leadership +2 (4) - Free Specialty (Ritual) Presence +1 (4) Cunning +1 (4) Reason +1 (4) Immortal Sage Knack: Eternal Genius (2) Monster Knack: Apex Myth (2) Immortal Monster Knack: Predator's Instinct (2) Psychopomp Knack: Eye for Portents (2) Cult +2 (4) Mutation +1 (5) Psychopomp Knack: This isn't Everything You Are (2) Immortal Psychopomp Knack: This is Everything You Are (2) Immortal Psychopomp Knack: Cracking the World's Shell (2) Follower - The Swarm +2 (4) Subterfuge +2 (4) Specialty: Drawing out Information (2) Close Combat +1 (2) Athletics +2 (4) Close Combat Specialty - Claws and Fangs (2) Follower - Hosts 5 (10) Persuasion +1 (2) Empathy +3 (6) - Free Specialty Hidden Desires

The Cult is going to get +1 Light and +1 Shadow Access: Binding Chambers Tag: Guild

The Swarm gains 2 new tags: Terrible: Webbing, Defensive

The new Follower are lesser hosts to spider spirits that can help her with infiltration.

Entourage, Smooth, Group, Consultant, Knack: Monster Within, Heavy

Mutation gains: Purview: Epic Strength

And the benefits of hitting Legend 4 come with a new Calling dot which will go into Psychopomp, a new Boon, and a new Legendary Title

Boon: Reborn in the Depths

Keyword: Opener

Legendary Title: Opener of Chains

So now, at the end of Hero, Willow Weaver looks like the following:

Academics 3 (Exorcism) Athletics 5 (Climbing) Close Combat 5 (Ambush) Culture: 5 (Cults) Empathy 3 (Hidden Desires) Integrity 5 (Focus, Courage) Leadership 4 (Rituals) Occult: 5 (Exorcism, Transformation) Persuasion 4 (Intimidation, Negotiation) Subterfuge 4 (Drawing out Information) Survival 3 (Stealth) Physical - Might ***** - Dexterity ***** - Stamina ***** Mental - Reason ***** - Cunning ***** - Resolve ***** Social - Presence ***** - Manipulation ***** - Composure ***** Legend: 4

Monster *** (Red of Tooth and Claw, Keeper of Taboos, Seizing Jaws, Sloughing Form, Predator's Instinct, Apex Myth) Sage ** (Presence of Magic, Master of the World, Palace of Memory, Overworld Knowledge, Eternal Genius) Psychopomp *** (Keeper of Keys, Companion of the Grave, Cracking the Egg, Tending the Egg, Be Not Afraid, On the Sound of Water, This Isn't Everything you Are, Eye for Portents, This is Everything You Are, Cracking the World's Shell)

Red of Tooth and Claw - Claws (Natural, Melee, Lethal, Grappling, Brutal, Stun)

Keywords: - Sage: Balance, Wood - Monster: Spider, Web, Divine - Psychopomp: Cocoon, Wave, Opener

Legendary Titles: Cocoon Born, Holder of Balance, The Web that Shelters, The Opener of Chains Inherent: Yaoyoruzu-no-Kamigami, Magic Guide Purview: Beasts (Spider), Water Relic: Chaos, Order Mutation: Epic Dexterity, Epic Strength, Epic Stamina

Boons: Assumption of the Godform Animal Aspect No Masters Reborn in the Depths

Guide 5 (The Spider Spirit, unnamed right now) Asset Skills: Occult, Close Combat Legendary Title: The Many Eyes of the Seal Purviews: Beast (Spider), Water Stunt: Extended Presence, when you roll Occult, You can extend your mind into that of the spiders in the scene. Spend 1-3 successes. For each success you spend you gain a +1 enhancement to your next Procedure or Intrigue roll to investigate that area.

Silken River (Relic 3) A simple necklace of carven willow wood capped around spider-silk and made to resemble a river. Motif: Everything is a web, you just need to pull the right threads to affect change. Purviews: Chaos, Order, Water Knack: Spend momentum to summon "The Swarm"

The Swarm - Followers (5) By using the Silken River, she can summon the Swarm to the area, these are a collective of tiny spiders formed of water, grass, dirt, or whatever sort of material is most loosely available. They are useful for investigation, blocking passage, intimidating and other such things. At need, they can also bite people. Consultant, Group, Mob, Archetype: Heavy, Terrible (Webbing), Defensive

Hosts - Followers (5) A small group of humans from the cult that Willow has helped bind into and join with other spider spirits. They mostly serve to help her with infiltration, but can also fight if necessary. Entourage, Heavy, Consultant, Group, Knack: Monster Within, Smooth

Cult - The Tangled Threads (5) Light: 2, Shadow 4 Foundation: Conspiracy Tags: Temple, Coven, Reliquary, Guild: Investigators (Light connection) Access: Hidden Sites of Power, Binding Chambers Connections: Occult Historians (Light connection)

Mutation 5 Motif: Many Eyes and Sinew of Silk Boon: +1 enhancement on rolls that cause fear or benefit from the target being afraid of you Bane: Torturers are your favored target. Purview: Epic Dexterity, Epic Stamina, Epic Strength Armor: Chiton Deed: Devour the Evil Condition: Titanic Visage