#the full reveal of the next game in the series

[felassan]

Summer Game Fest 2024 has been announced to be streaming live free on Friday 7th June 2024 at 2pm PT / 5pm ET / 9pm GMT. It will be a two-hour cross-platform showcase of what's next in gaming, with announcements and trailers etc. [source, two, alerts sign up link]

[chrollohearttags]

blerd!ony…💭

been wanting to write about my sweetheart + I needed something self indulgent today so here we are! 🩷

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you never really liked talking anime or nerd culture with men!…a strange thought but a true one nonetheless. It was always one exhausting conversation after the next. From being giving random pop quizzes about this series or a lecture about how that one doesn’t measure up to the solidified greats. That was until you met blerd!ony…the gentle, kindhearted cashier in the store you frequented on a daily basis. Blerd!ony, who recognized the t-shirt you were wearing immediately from that very obscure yet classic anime you loved so much, became absolutely ecstatic to talk to you from that day on. The tall, gorgeous male with a smile like the stars, the most beautiful complexion you’ve ever seen and a voice like honey had given you even more of a reason to gush over him. “You gotta give me your top five right now. I always see your keychains and shit. You got good taste..” you were a bit hesitant because this was always the point where things went left but blerd!ony surprised you by praising your choices and even saying he’d check out the ones you’d put him on to. blerd!ony, who had a sleeve full of video game themed tattoos took pride in showing off his pieces when you happened to catch him outside on smoke break one night. Telling you how he played all the time and even streamed a bit in his free time. “I do alright, you should check me out.” blerd!ony, who was always holding up the line just to chat with his favorite customer about the new series he just started. “I’m talking to my girl, y’all can wait—anyways, did you see that new episode? Shit was crazy.” it wasn’t long before he was asking for your socials and hoping to keep the communication going on days even when he couldn’t see you. blerd!ony, who couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw the girl who came in his store with sweatpants and a DBZ shirt all dolled up in your cosplays..some a lot more revealing than others. blerd!ony, who’d always wanted to try the hobby but was afraid had some questions..among other things the next time he saw you. “I see how it is, best friend. You be putting that shit on.” you were infatuated with his humor and laid back personality so naturally, when he invited you to an anime cafe in your city, you accepted. blerd!ony, who was the perfect gentleman ensured that you had the best time as you two chopped it up about all things nerdy, making you laugh more than you had in a long time.

blerd!ony, who confided in you that he didn’t have many friends and especially ones into the things he was, told you how happy he was to have met you. “You cool as hell, we gotta do this more often.” a sentiment you agreed with heavily agreed with. Some time had passed and you two spoke nearly everyday. That’s when he revealed that he was not only interested in attending his first con but cosplaying as well, asked you accompany him..and pick a character! “I trust you, ma. Make me look good..” it was a no brainer as the two of you were huge fans of the Mortal Kombat series and decided to dress as Sindel and Shao Kahn. So the two of you spent days going to the fabric store and ordering materials to build props in your spare time..blerd!ony, who was turning heads the entire time when he revealed that Adonis like figure that had been hiding underneath that company polo everyday..you were nervous and even a little embarrassed walking beside someone so fine. but blerd!ony couldn’t keep his eyes off of you or hands..holding your left one, keeping you close and grasping the small of your back as he guided you through the crowds. Even carrying all of your bags and letting you rest your tired feet on his lap. blerd!ony, who had been eyeing you all day couldn’t help but to be entranced when it was time for the after party and the two of you were dancing with liquor in your system. “You full of surprises, huh mama?” “Try me and you might find out just how many.” blerd!ony, who couldn’t wait to get back to you guys’ hotel room, tore that costume open quicker than you could get the door open..leaving a trail of warm kisses down your neck as his fingers delved into your core, pinning you against the wall in the process. “You so fucking sexy..” muttering in your ear as he hiked your leg up and tugged his bottoms down. blerd!ony, who fucked you like a man starved that night had you grasping at things that weren’t even there..taking you from the mirror, to the dresser and eventually the bed, where he gave you deep backshots; grasping that platinum gray lace front on your head as he did so. “You don’t know how long I been wanting this..fuck..” blerd!ony, who had you fucking up the sheets all night, getting stretched by that thick cock with the curve, absolutely depleted you, so much so, you two barely made it around the convention the next day but he was glad that he had met the girl who loved the same things he did and the one of his dreams. <3

[pursuitseternal]

“Your body’s already given you away:” life-saving, body heat smut for “Bites in the Night”

Spawn!Astarion x F!Reader |E| 4K

🎨by @zuzanamariana, @qveenofthorns on Twt— NSFW full version under the cut

Summary: Storms come quickly in the Mountain Pass, and they are brutally cold. What if your only chance for survival was in the hands of your well-fed Vampire love…

CW: oral sex, near deaths experience, fighting hypothermia, Astarion is bad at feelings, PiV, possessive, protective Astarion, a rescue mission that wishes they hadn’t found them the next morning.

Ao3 link |Series ao3 link| Masterlist

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Night falls fast in the Mountain Pass, the thin air makes you struggle a bit harder to breathe… that, or it’s the way Astarion licks your folds clean of your mixture of cum after your rigorous coupling… Some hunting and foraging mission… you laugh at yourself. He lifts his head, lapping the blood on his chin from where he’s fed from you, cleaning himself of all that mess you made together.

“The camp might go hungry, darling… but I assuredly have not,” he flashes that wicked smirk as he moves to hover over your half-dressed body as you lay on the ground.

“You’ve never been a selfless one,” you tease, wiping your thumb to clean one last spot of blood from the side of his cheek.

“We only said we would try to find something to eat…” he runs a finger through the trail of blood on your neck that still dries and sucks his fingers clean. “I have found something to eat… and it was oh so delicious.” His voice is pure velvety seduction, and you’re sure you would risk anything in this cool Mountain Pass if he asked to take you again, one more time under the bright stars.

But as you open your eyes, you don’t see stars… you see a flash of light…. A rumble of thunder follows in the distance. “Shit,” you panic, shoving him off of you as you scramble to pull your breeches back on and fix your tunic and jacket. “We are a long way from camp… we need to beat the storm.”

Astarion only lays completely naked on the ground, smirking up at you. “The way your heart just pounds when you’re afraid is truly delightful, you know,” he taunts you, seemingly unwilling to leave. His hand reaches for yours as if to pull you back down for more of his attention, but you bat it away.

“No games, my vampire. Mountain storms are no laughing matter, not that you would know, city boy…”

He raises a defensive, ostentatious finger at you and waves it. “I’ll have you know, I didn’t always…”

A burst of light, a crack of thunder silences even his sass. A few drops of rain start to fall, and you just shake your head at your careless, foolish vampire as he tries to scramble into all his clothes. Picking up the packs of supplies, you start down the trail of the mountain, his feet hastening behind you as you make turn after turn.

Rain falls harder and harder until you can barely see. All that keeps you together is his vice-like grip on your elbow to keep you sure footed, a trait you characteristically lack without him. “We have to get out of the rain!” you scream at him, right for his pointy ear, as lighting illuminates the mountain path around you.

“Any brilliant ideas?” he belts back at you.

“You’re the elf, the vampire… what do your sharp eyes see?”

“Oh, same as yours, I imagine,” he snipes in reply. “Lots of fucking rain.” Suddenly he feels you shaking in his hand… You’re shivering and chattering, lips blue as the rain pours over your whole body. “What in the hells?” he asks himself more than you. “You… can’t be…” he watches your eyes rolling back in your head as your body collapses. “Oh for fucks sake, why can’t you also be undead for these sorts of things?” He teases exasperatedly to the silence, but only because his heart aches, his soul made heavy as he throws you over his shoulder and makes his way to the mountain side.

There’s a quick burst of lighting, just enough to reveal the mouth of a cave, and Astarion hopes it’s warm and dry and safe. He manages to fumble his way into the dark, every sense inside him scans for danger, but he hears nothing and smells nothing. He carefully sets your shivering body down. Sticks scattered around the cave floor are easy for him to collect; a simple spell casts enough fire to get a little warmth started. The storm rages just outside the shallow cave… and the light is enough for him to scan your face, your eyes shut and lips trembling and blue from the mountain chill and rain.

“Godsdammit, wake up,” he shakes you. His hands pull you against his chest. But both your bodies are soaked. His mind whirs, every instinct for survival kicking in. He searches through the pack; a single blanket near the bottom isn’t soaked. His hands work quickly over your own nearly-corpse-cold body to pull off your wet clothes from your numb limbs. Carefully he cradles your head, pulling you closer to the fire and wrapping you in the one dry thing he’s found.

Gods… this must be how I look… he stares at your ephemeral beauty, your skin devoid of color, chilling to the touch. The only differences are the slow rush of chattering breath in your lungs and the slightly faster beat of your heart than his own. Not that he’s counting every pulse that rushes in your carotid to make sure you’re still alive.

For your own sake. Not his…. He shakes his head in further denial.

But still, you shiver, moaning and mumbling to yourself, and not in that cute way you do when you sleep heavily in your mortal sleep as he watches you in his bedroll. This is… sickly… frail. Your skin is cold, even to him.

But if you are cold to his touch… he must be warmer. He pulls off his own wet clothes. Trying to dry his skin off as much as possible, he lays under the blanket beside you, covering your back with his flesh, and pressing you closer to the fire. Thank whatever gods were listening that he fed on you and fed so well before.. giving him just enough bloom of life in his undead body to share your body heat back with you.

“What good is a living, beating heart if you give up now?” He hisses vehemently to himself, taking your right arm, he rubs it, getting the blood to flow to warm your fingers, colder than he is in undeath. Huffing his mildly warm breath on his palms, he does the same with the other arm. Then he raises up the blanket, repeating that attentive rubbing and shaking with your legs. The scent of your coupling at the apex of your thighs makes his stomach turn. What in the hells had he been thinking…. Making you both stay out so far from camp…

That sharp slice of guilt gets pushed down quickly as he touches your thigh and rubs. Then your other leg. They both twitch, your breath starts to come a bit more pronounced.

Quickly, he throws two more large branches on the fire and slides under the blanket, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He slinks one hand under your nose to make certain you’re breathing. “For fucks sake,” he snarls. “You had better not die, don’t be selfish, darling…”

That’s when your eyes finally open, hearing that edge of sass in his voice. “Ast…ar…” your voice shakes as your teeth chatter still.

“Shh, back from the grips of death,” he smirks a bit cocky, “at least that’s one of us,” he gives that high-pitched, inane giggle. You struggle to sit up, but that arm just braces you back to the ground…

…not unlike the moment you met this Vampire. But your mind struggles to make sense of reality, the memories of that wreckage and the warm sun… the chill that still creeps over your bones.

You shiver hard, and he only holds you closer to his body, scooting you closer to the fire. “Please don’t insist on being stupid. Just hold still. We had the good sense to let me feed so much from… all those parts of you…” he feels you shiver at the memory of his tongue on your neck and between your thighs, “it’s given me enough of your blood in my veins to correct your foolishness.”

“My f-f-foolishness?” you fight the stutter on your tongue. You lie there, looking up at him as he lifts that haughty, grinning face to hover over yours. Head resting on his palm, elbow bent right beside your ear, he traces that lukewarm touch over the top of your arm.

“You’re in no condition to debate me, darling,” he smirks down at you. “Maybe you should save your strength and just let me try to warm you up for once.” He shakes his head, a disparaging grin as he raises up even higher, keeping those taunting, crimson eyes focused on the way his fingers run up and down your skin. “They say rubbing helps….” He flashes you that fanged grin and leans his face into yours. “Anywhere in particular you really want me to warm you up?”

You shiver still under his hand that is drawing your blood to pound a little warmer, a little more lively. “Fuck you,” you snipe back at him, managing not to chatter your teeth for once.

“Oh, you’re not ready for that again, my dear.” His voice is warmer than the fire, and makes your skin prickle more than the feeling that slowly returns to your body. If you weren’t still blue in the lips and weak in the hands, you’d be torn between slapping that conceited grin or kissing those irritating and attractively curling lips. “Now hush,” he furrows his brows as if he can chastise your thoughts, “and let me make you feel hot… all… over.”

“I hate you,” you hiss, his hands indeed dragging a lukewarm touch over your collarbone to trace around your upper body. He manages to touch you everywhere but your breasts, and even still your nipples seem to harden even more.

He tuts his tongue at you, leering now with an increasingly predatory gleam. “No, you don’t…” he gives a low, deep throated laugh, the likes of which you hear rarely, only in these moments when you feel totally played under his fingertips, that little edge of danger flitting behind his eyes. That wandering, teasing touch wanders lower, still touching you with a little hint of warmth and friction, but never anywhere you crave for it to brush.

“I… notice I’m naked…” you say as he brushes his fingers over your smooth skin.

“A necessity,” he grunts, feeling you shift your back against him more deliberately. “Wet clothes would only make it harder for you to thaw.”

“…and I notice you’re naked too…”

“Well,” he hems, his hand pausing right on the crest of your hip, “skin to skin is the best method of sharing heat, and given how little I am warmed even after your delicious blood today…”

“Seems like one of us is doing well for thems-s-selves,” you shiver hard one more time, your ass brushing against his belly, but he lacks that familiar prod of his erection against the backs of your thighs. Uncharacteristically soft.

He scoots back the moment he feels you brush him there… a tell-tale clearing of his throat as his hand starts to rub your side… your collarbone… harder and faster. “Ahhh,” he sighs dramatically, starting to press his lips to your pulse point, “there’s that merry dancing of your heart, darling. And all it took was a crooked touch…” he smirks down at you, “…easy…” He purrs in that same voice he uses to gloat when he cracks open a chest of loot.

Only the loot now is your life.

You do in fact sense the tingling beginning to fade, the numbness thawing in your hands and feet. You reach to catch his hand in yours. The shock of your cold touch makes him jump slightly for once. And you smirk a bit at the reversal, your moment of revenge. Pressing those magical lengths of his fingers to your lips, you breathe across the top of them. “A good thing you’re just so skilled with these, my rogue, even if, given the circumstances, you were more nervous today…”

“Nervous?” he scoffs at the words, letting you hold his hand to your lips again. “I am never nervous, darling. I knew you’d come around, knew you’d wake back up with the right tender care.” Those crimson eyes flicker as he inhales sharply, determinedly reaching his hand from your soft lips to grip your chin and turn your smirking face up into his.

But you just snicker softly, sliding your back until you’re flush against him. “Nervous,” you insist, another deliberate grind of your backside against his lower body, still stirring to life. “When have you ever held me naked in your arms and not been…”

“Alright, hush you,” his eyes narrow, a bit intimidating and playful at once, as he moves that grip on your chin to close your mouth. “Some way of thanking your saviour…” he smirks, tip twisting to that rakish angle. “It was cold…”

You nod your head, matching his gaze with an insolent one.

“…I was distracted, focused on keeping that pretty little heart of yours beating…”

“Uh huh…” you nod again, lifting your head a bit to close that distance on his defensive, impish half-smile.

“How dare you,” he hisses dramatically. “I am a vampire, forever young, seduction incarnate. I need but a drop of blood to make myself harder and as beautiful as marble sculptures.”

You grind against his hips, that cock of his still only semi-hard, cradled by those perfect balls of his.

“Seems like you could use a top off of my blood then…” you taunt with another grind of your ass cheek.

“Please…” he snips with a suck of his teeth. “I’m doing you a favor, I know how insatiable you are when I’m that excited. And you were in no state for rigorous activity.”

Another rub of your rear against his, your hand reaches to grip into that perfect arch of his own ass. Your voice sounds rough with need and edged with sultry mockery: “Alright, Mister Seduction Incarnate… ”

“Tut tut, you can’t tell me you disagree.” He brushes his lips to your ear, his breath cool again, your own pulse strong enough to thrum behind his voice as he rasps that familiar line: “Your body’s already given you away…. Warming up so quickly under my touch, coming back to life for your undead lover…”

Now it’s your turn to suck your teeth and act condescending. “Tch, you’re not that hot you know.”

“Now that your blood has receded I suppose my touch is cooler again, my heart beating so slow once more…” you feel his legs hook yours, slipping between your thighs, one rakish devil of a knee pushing your legs apart. “Unless you meant my ruinous good looks, in which case,” he pushes you into the dirt, the blanket and the campfire no longer the only things making your body warmed all over. “Good thing you’re not so freezing any more so I can prove it to you otherwise.”

He presses his mouth to your ear, his lips sucking the shell of your ear, fangs dragging over the soft lobe at the bottom. “All that grinding you did… you tease… that’s the thanks I get for saving your life.”

“I needed friction…” you pout, a little bratty in your tone.

He presses harder, his pelvis against yours. “Likely story from someone who thinks themselves oh so charming…” Bucking harder, you feel that revealing twitch against your mound. “Show me how lively you are now, darling, and I’m sure we can both warm up wonderfully.”

You arch your back into the dirt of the cave, a blush barely starting to bloom over your cheeks as he looks down at you, like you’re something precious and delicious all at once. That silken touch traces your rosy cheek, and for all his bravado and taunting, you see a light of relief in the deep crimson of his eyes. But before you can let it sink in how much he just might care for you… he dives for your neck and bites again.

For as sudden as his teeth break your sin, his lips and tongue caress you, delicate laps and tender little suckles. Just enough to bring an edge of warmth back in his hands that roams your collarbone and wanders down to clutch around your breast. The moment your blood hits his veins, you feel that hardness thicken.

You grin as he lifts that scarlet smile from your neck. “Seems like someone is happy to see me alive,” you taunt, raising your hips to rub against his increasing erection that prods up to your navel.

Astarion chuckles, that well practiced smile masking his thoughts as he slowly, agonizingly drags his length forward… and back… over your mound. Fingers tease your nipples, softly plucking them to little hard pebbles. “A little gratitude wouldn’t go amiss,” he rasps down at you, watching you grow pinker under his caresses with an eagerness that draws his face that much sharper.

“Say it…” you sigh as he continues to hump that mass of curls between your thighs so slowly. “Admit it.” Your voice is insistent, your hands grip into that perfect roundness of his ass.

“I’ll admit,” he gives that peeved little sigh, “you were trouble to carry over my shoulders in the rain. A miracle I didn’t drop you.” Nails dig slightly into your breast. “

“Insufferable,” you sigh, baiting him as your own hand slips between where he hovers over you to catch those perfectly rounded, smooth and velvety balls of his. “Admit you were… nervous.”

“I’m more nervous now that you’ve got those in your grip, darling,” he gives a pleasured, breathless laugh as you toy with them slowly.

“So you were a little nervous before, when I was nearly lifeless in your arms?” you push him with your words, a slightly rougher tug on his balls to emphasize your point.

He grabs for your wrist and pulls your hand to rest on his chest, an adoring little kiss on your palm before he puts it where his heart would be beating. For a moment he gives you a wordless answer, it’s small and subtle: just a softening of those taunting creases at the corner of his eyes as they go tender and wide. It’s just a hint of what had been raging inside, the inner tempest of his fear siphoning off to a single tear that remains unshed in the corner of his blood-red eyes.

A flash of his fangs in his smile, and it’s gone, that worry. He doesn’t even let you dwell on it, not as he grinds suddenly harder against your folds, angling perfectly to drag that rock hard, velvety length over your clit until…

…you gasp, suddenly filled to the brim as he slides his way inside. As if he would be unnoticed.

He laughs deep in his chest as you arch, receiving the welcome intrusion. Gripping the back of your knees, he splays you wide, that blanket long shrugged off now, leaving just your skin to glow in the firelight and the fading flashes of lighting from the cave mouth. “Well… it seems something has made you all hot and bothered, darling…” he purrs down at you, raising your right leg even higher as he makes slow, deliberate thrusts into your slick.

“Yeah, you did to make sure I didn’t slip away permanently on you…” you try to make light of your own near-death.

That softness returns for a moment. “Can you blame me?” he barely makes enough sound to be heard, something quieter, more secretive than a whisper. Then he shakes his head, returning to smirking and pounding harder into you, arm wrapped tightly around your leg to keep your folds close to him. “Or rather, can you thank me?” That haughty, velvet tone returns.

You reach a hand for his smirking, arrogant, gorgeous face, your lips softly smiling as he stills for a moment as you brush his cheek. “Thank you,” is all your whisper.

Floodgates burst, he lowers that leg and covers you with his body. Arms snug around your shoulders, legs pressed beneath yours to push your thighs high and wide for him. An embrace of lust… of a little death, where every inch of his body is aimed to possess you. Protect you.

He won’t say it outloud, his mouth too busy deeply diving into yours, dancing his tongue and consuming your every breath before it leaves your lips. Every slap of his body into yours makes your teeth rattle and your neck tight. Or maybe that’s the way he has one hand clawed into your hair at the nape of your neck, two fingers pressed into your pulse point. As if he’s just making triple sure your heart beats, alive still and always for him.

A wave of pleasure crashes into you, you didn’t even recognize where it began, barely feeling where it ends. It seems constant, a simultaneous rending and refilling of your body under his taught frame as he fucks you. His lips suck yours, as if he needs to know you breathe. His hand claws your left breast, as if he needs to feel the thumping of your living heart beneath it. Fangs grit, hips erratic, he drives into you harder and faster. A burst of wet, a groan in your mouth, and you finally feel him stilling and shuddering as he fills you with his seed. His full weight presses you into the cave floor, a smile of relief spreads on his lips as he nuzzles into the top of your breasts, squashed as they are under his shoulders.

“Warmer?” he grumbles, half into his trance already. “After all that hard work of mine, I sure hope so…” His sleepy voice warms your heart more than even his body could blushed with life from feeding.

“Mmhmm,” I all you manage to say against the tufted top of his white curls as you nod off too.

Before you know it, you’re waking up again to the sounds of birdsong outside the cave, the scent of faded fire in your nose, that meager pile of logs long gutted out. His mussy, unkempt hair tickles your face as you realize he’s still tranced on top of you. That when you hear soft laughter from the mouth of the cave.

Your companions… your rescue party, come to lend a hand… until they find you with more than a hand at your service.

“Hmm,” Gale’s blustering and flustered voice brings you soundly out of your sleep. “Seems a rescue mission wasn’t necessary after all…”

“And here we thought we’d play the hero,” Wyll’s good-humored laugh is tinged just a bit judgy.

Astarion grumbles as he comes too as well, naked body still blanketing yours beneath your single cover.

“No, no,” Shadowheart’s chortle irks you as you feel Astarion shift enough to raise his sleepy head… and reveal your bare breasts that had served as his pillow, “seems like the Vampire remembered that skin to skin is the best way to exchange body heat. Not that he has any, mind you…”

“They’re just jealous I saved your life, darling,” his voice crackles still with sleep even as he shifts to cover you naked body from their view with his own.

“Yes, I’m sure they totally buy the fact that you’re warming me with your corpse-cold body….” You taunt him with that sharp sarcasm of yours and run your hands under the blanket to squeeze his ass. “Even with your good looks, you’re not that convincing.” You kiss him, a simple caress he eagerly accepts and quickly turns deeper and ravenous as he groans between your lips….

…and the rest of your companions groan too as they leave you two to it.

[dakotalun]

You Belong With Me | Eddie Munson

pairing: Modern!Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: Part 2--Eddie gets a special visit...but it hurts more than it helps.

warnings: drug use, language, mentions of cheating, sad Eddie

word count: 4.2k

a/n: I've estimated about 7 or so parts to this series and I will be working on them for the next couple of weeks.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

“Yeah I’m coming!” Eddie says from his room, getting up from his bed and pressing the butt of his blunt into the ashtray on the nightstand. He had been laying in bed, listening to Ozzy, smoking and drinking a beer after he got back from the basketball game a little while ago.

He was pissed at you for yelling at him earlier and bailing on him when it was so out of character for you to do so. But it was nice just sitting under the bleachers alone, oogling the love of his life. Another knock comes as he exits his room, “I said I’m coming-” He swings the front door open and it reveals a sad and red eyed Chrissy.

“Shit Chrissy, are- are you okay?” Eddie steps aside and allows her to enter the trailer.

“Hey Eddie. Sorry to just come over unannounced and all,” Her voice is strained but steady, as if she’s used to speaking after crying.

“No no it’s fine. What’s going on?” He walks over to the couch and sits down, Chrissy following after.

“Jason and I got into a big fight after the game tonight,” Eddie’s ears burn at the thought of Jason being a dick to such a sweet girl then return to normal after thinking about the fight he just had with you, “And I couldn’t be around him anymore so I went for a walk. I thought about things on the way then noticed that I was almost to here and decided to stop by.”

Eddie’s surprised at the words coming from her. She thought of him and decided to stop by, could this be his lucky day?

“Aw I’m sorry that sucks. What can I do to help? Do you need me to go beat him up? Cause I will, I’ll do it right now.” His tone is upbeat and happy but he means every word.

A smile creeps onto Chrissy’s face showing her perfect teeth, “No, no. Nothing like that. I was just wondering if you could, um,” She hesitates, nervous to ask the question.

Eddie puts a reassuring hand on her knee, this being the second time in 2 weeks that they’ve touched. “I’ll do anything, just say the word.” His doe eyes wide and full of truth.

“Can I get some weed or pills or something? I’ve not been in the best headspace lately and I just need something to take the edge off.”

Those were not the words he thought she would say, not in a million years. His face grows warm, nervous about selling to Hawkin’s most famous IT girl. He needs the money but he feels bad for taking it from her, she doesn’t look like she’s taken anything stronger than a baby aspirin in her life, and now she wants weed or pills.

“Are- are you sure? Have you ever smoked before?” She shakes her head, “I know I said anything but I don’t know if I can,”

“Oh,” Her head falls down, clearly disappointed at his words, “That’s okay. It was stupid for me to come here anyway. I’ll get out of your hair, let you get back to whatever you were doing.” She stands up, hands running over her short skirt, both out of nervousness and to cover her ass.

Eddie shoots up quickly not wanting her to leave, “Wait! I mean if you really want some weed then I’ll give you some but on one condition.”

Her baby blue irises meeting his dark brown ones, liek two oceans colliding, “What condition?”

“You gotta smoke it with me. Can’t have you choking to death after taking one puff incorrectly, so? We gotta deal?” He holds his hand out for her to shake, needing another form of touch with her.

“Deal.” Her tiny hand is engulfed in his, the warmth of her skin seeping into his palm.

Eddie tells Chrissy to stay in the living room while he goes and gets a joint and lighter from his room. Returning only a few seconds later he plops down on the couch, exhaling a loud sigh.

“So I’ll start it off for you then I’ll show you how to take a hit correctly,” Chrissy nods at his words.

Eddie puts the blunt into his mouth, cupping his free hand around it to shield the imaginary wind as he lights it, taking a few short puffs just to get it started for her. Once he’s satisfied with his work he pulls it from his lips and hands it to her.

Chrissy looks at it weirdly, not even knowing how to hold it. Eddie notices this and opts to just guide the butt just past her lips, her strawberry lipgloss covering the paper. She looks at him every step of the way, not wanting to do it wrong.

“Alright now all you’re gonna do is breathe in slowly,” She follows his words, taking a slow, deep breathe in, “Good. Good, now,” He pulls his fingers and the blunt away from her lips, “Hold it in for a second until you start to feel that burn in your chest, then exhale.”

She holds for a short second before falling into a coughing fit. Eddie goes to rub her back, soothing the burn he knows all too well from his past. She takes a little to regain her barings again before sitting back up and leaning into the worn out couch.

“Okay that is not as easy as you make it look,” Her voice is hoarse, which Eddie only finds attractive.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, the more you do it the less it hurts,” He takes a long hit, letting the smoke fill his lungs for far too long.

“Okay then, guess I’ll have to try again then,” Eddie just nods and takes another hit before handing it back to her. She follows his steps the same way, only this time she isn’t coughing up a lung.

“Nice job. You’re a natural.” Eddie smiles and the two of them sit there just enjoying the peace and sharing a smoke.

Once it’s down to its last little bit, Eddie puts it out and leans deep into the couch, spreading his legs wide in the process. He lays his arms over the back and looks up at the ceiling. He’s always loved doing this after a good smoke, just sitting there, staring at the ceiling and allowing his mind to wander and eventually go blank.

Chrissy is sitting beside him still, more relaxed than before which brings a smile to Eddie’s lips. The room has been quiet for a while and Chrissy has a question that she’s been meaning to ask.

“So, why do you do it?” SHe says after clearing her throat a little.

“Do what?” He doesn’t look at her, still focused on the ceiling above.

“Why do you act the way you do? Why play that game and listen to that music? You do realize it’s not normal right?” This catches his attention, he brings his head up to look at her, her eyes drifting from his face to her lap where she fiddles with her hands.

“Why are you with Jason when you know he’s sleeping with half the girls at the school?” Eddie’s feeling feisty now, not pleased with the sudden line of questioning.

“I asked you first.” Chrissy retorts back.

“I don’t know what you mean. I act the way I do because that’s who I am, and I play D&D because I find it fun and thrilling. Being normal ’s just not for me, trust me on this one sweetheart.”

“But it could be. If you tried, then you wouldn’t have everyone staring at you and calling you a freak.”

“Yeah but you forget one thing,” Eddie’s sitting up right now, hands on his knees as he gets closer to her. Her eyes are looking at him again, scanning his face quickly, almost worry in her eyes.

“What’s that?” Chrissy’s voice is small and weak, Eddie’s presence now intimidating as he gets right up in her face, a mere inch apart.

“I don’t give a damn what people think.” Chrissy is staring into his eyes now, completely locked in and focused. 

“Your turn, why Jason?” Eddie really is curious as to why she’s with him, and he know’s it can’t only be for the social status, “And don’t say because he’s captain of the laundry basket game.”

“It’s called basketball and I wasn’t going to say that. I like him because he’s sweet and kind and always does the best for others.”

Eddie can’t believe the words she just used to describe him, “Jason? Like Jason Carver, the one who bullies me relentlessly and judges people if they breathe the wrong way? That Jason?”

“Yes Eddie, that Jason.” 

“But how?”

“I know he’s not the best to be around during school but that’s just because his dad is a jackass who won’t get off his back about basketball and his grades. He’s stressed all the time and just needs a break. And when he’s with me he’s thi sweet guy who doesn’t care what others think, just wanting to be the best he possibly can be.”

Eddie looks at her, mouth wide like a fish that’s trying to get air after being pulled from the water. Never in his 20 years of life did he think that he would hear someone say those things about Jason, especially in his trailer! It felt like an out of body experience.

“Can I ask you another question?” Chrissy is looking at him, ignoring the stunned expression.

“Uh sure. But this is the last one.”

“What’s up with you and y/n?” “Nothing, why?” The hair on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up at the mention of you.

“I didn’t se her with you today at the game and I was just curious. I mean you two are always together, even Jason and I don’t spend that much time together. Guess you guys just have a good relationship.”

“Woah woah woah. Y/n and I aren’t in a relationship. She’s just a friend.”

Chrissy gives him a quizzical look, not fully believing him, “Uh huh, so you guys just carpool together and walk to classes together and eat lunch together because you’re friends?”

“Yes. We do,” Eddie sits up straighter now, feeling like he has to assert dominance in this situation.

“Okay then. I was just wondering,” Chrissy is looking directly in his eyes now, analyzing the vast space of his irises.

His eyes are cool and calm, whilst hers are wide and a little curious. Eddie’s gaze dips from hers to her lips then back up again. Her lipgloss is pretty much gone, most of it on the end of the discarded blunt. They are soft and pink, not at all chapped and worn like his.

Eddie’s feeling bold and a little angry right now. Bold from the weed and angry at you for not believing that he could have Chrissy if he wanted to, so his next moves weren’t quite thought out. So before either of them knows it his lips are on hers. Chrissy gasps into the kiss, it quickly being muffled by his mouth. She knows she should pull away, she knows she shouldn’t be kissing anyone other than Jason, especially Eddie “The Freak” Munson, but his lips taste different and the way he holds himself is in high contrast from Jason.

So she leans in a little, giving back to what Eddie is giving her. They kiss for what feels like forever to Eddie but in actuality it was only a few seconds before she pulls away.

“I-” Chrissy tries to speak but the words fall silent on her tongue before she can even get them out.

“Shit, I’ve been wanting to do that for so fucking long. It’s even better than I imagined,” Eddie has his world famous grin on, happy to have finally made a move on his dream girl. He starts to lean back in for another kiss when one of Chrissy’s small hands touch his chest, pushing him back.

“What? What’s wrong?” Eddie’s concerned now.

“It’s, um, it’s Jason. I can’t do this to him.”

“But the guy is a jerk, you can do better than him,” Eddie puts his hand over the one onhis chest, “I can treat you better than he can.”

Her eyes are still downcast, not even daring a quick glace up to his. She slips her hand out from under his, letting it fall into her lap again. “Eddie I’m sorry. Really I am, but I can’t. I love him, and he loves me.”

The words are like acid to Eddie’s ears, his face burning at the sound. His body goes numb as he falls back into the couch. Chrissy is talking but he can’t understand her, being rejected is already too much to bear.

“You should go.” His voice is cold, harsh; he barely recognizes it himself.

“Yeah, um okay.” She gets up, gethers her things then rushes out the door. The sound loudly reverberating off the walls of the tin can Eddie calls a home.

He sits there. For a good 10 minutes he just sits there, thinking. Thinking about how he just kissed his dream girl, about how her lips felt on his, how good her lipgloss tasted on his tongue, how much he wishes it could’ve lasted longer, how he hates himself to doing it in the first place.

Eddie’s been dreaming of that moment since he was in 7th grade. He hoped she would be his first, in everything; first girlfriend, first kiss, first to have sex with him-he hoped for it all. Now he’s left sitting here, rejected and cold and alone.

What makes him feel worse is that he can’t even go talk to the one person he knows would make him feel better because she’s mad at him for something she was ultimately right about. He just wishes he could take this entire day back and start over.

---

All night you had been laying in bed and wracking your brain for all the possible ways to make it up to Eddie. Going through all these years of friendship the two of you share, thinking of all the things Eddie loves; weed, horror movies, milkshakes from Jay’s Diner, and the cookies you make.

You get up from your bed, the bright light of the rising sun peaking through your curtains. You could only sleep for a few hours that night, too afraid that you had ruined your best friendship. Throwing the blankets off yourself you get ready for the day, choosing comfort more than style.

An hour later you are standing in front of Eddie’s trailer, cookies and milkshakes in hand as you carry a bag of all his favorite horror movies you had just gotten from Family Video. You clock that Wayne’s truck is still outside even though he is normally on his way to work by now, but you don’t pay much attention to it as you knock on the door.

You wait for a few seconds and then are faced with the older man with salt and pepper hair.

“Hi Wayne.” You greet with a smile on your face.

“Hey honey, you here for Ed?” He moves aside to let you in.

“Yeah we uh got into a little fight last night and I wanted to check in on him. Brought milkshakes and cookies.” You hold up the items in your hand. Wayne smiles at your gesture, one Eddie would be sure to love as well.

“He’s been real upset today. Hasn’t said a word to me since I got back from work this morning, rarely comin’ outta that room a his.”

You’re confused for a minute at his words. Eddie seemed mad at you sure but to go as far as to lock himself in his room all day, that was dramatic, even gor him. The look on your face must’ve clued Wayne in on the fact that you had no clue what he was talking about.

“If ya don’t mind, may I ask what you fought about?” HE rubs the back of his neck, a thing Eddie does when he too is nervous, “Possibly get an idea as to why he’s like this.”

“Well he wanted to go to the basketball game last night but I wasn’t feeling up for it. I had tried a few times to tell him I didn’t wanna go but he’s a stubborn one,” Wayne nods his head and smiles a little, “I let my anger get to me and accidentally yelled at him, saying things I did and didn’t mean. But I didn’t think he would be that mad about it, not enough to lock himself inside for hours.”

The two of you standing there in silence, contem,plating all the other reasons for Eddie’s behavior today. The older man looks at his watch then sighs, knwoing it’s time to go to work but not wanting to leave his nephew.

“Go ahead. I’ll see if I can get to him, I’ll call you about what happened later.” Wayne gives you a reassuring smile and a squeeze on the arm before heading out the door and to his late night job.

You take a deep breath in and out, calming your nerves. You set the milkshakes into the freezer, not wanting them to melt as the two of you talked before heading down the short hallway to the metalhead’s room.

It’s rare to see Eddie’s door closed, always an open book in his own house. You knock on his door 3 times, a special order to them, signaling that it was you who was outside of it. Eddie was the one who suggested the two of you got a secret knock, being that both of your parental figures tended to just walk in unannounced and without warning.

The knock was short and sweet, something easy to remember. Eddie was the one who used it most, knocking on your window late at night to steal you away for a night drive or a smoke sesh. 

There is no response from Eddie, so you try the knock again, hoping he just didn’t hear you the thifrst time. Nothing, no response.

“Ed? You okay in there? Wayne said you haven’t left there all day.” You try and keep your voice neutral, not showing the hurt from deep inside that this might be your fault, “Look if this is about out fight last night I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t in the right head space and I really shouldn’t’ve talked to you that way.” Still nothing, not even the shifting of sheets could be heard.

“I brought some movies and cookies. Oh and that milkshake you love so much from Jay’s.” You start to get worried now, Eddie has never been this quiet in his life, “Eddie please talk to me. I really didn’t mean to say those things about you and I take back every word. If you really, truly love Chrissy then I will support you. I just don’t want you to get hurt is all, I love you and hate seeing you like this.”

At the mention of Chrissy, Eddie’s heart constricted thinking about what happened last night. And for the first time all day, he speaks.

“It’s not your fault,” The words are soft, the sound in his voice coming out strained.

“Are you sure? I know I was harsh and I take full responsibility for your emotions and my actions. Can I come in? I kinda feel like I need to say this to your face.” You pause a moment, waiting for something, anything. Then you hear the small *click* of his door being unlocked. You open it and gasp at the sight in front of you.

Eddie is laying on his bed, blankets wrapped tightly around him as tissues surround and litter the the places around him. He was crying.

“Shit.” You say under your breath. There is soft music playing in the back ground, you recognize the song to be K. by Cigarettes After Sex. You know the song is on his sad playlist, one he rarely listened to that you knew of. So for him to be listening to it right now is startling.

“Eds?” You walk into the rom fully now, setting the cookies and movies down on the floor by the door. You take a few steps towards his bed, his back is turned to you.

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You’re now at the edge of his bed, wanting more than anything for him to turn around and look at you. He just lays there, his breathing moving his chest up and down slowly.

“I fucked up.”

“Huh?” You weren’t even sure he said anything that’s how quietly he said it.

“I fucked up, badly.” He turns around now, showing you the aftermath of his endless crying all night. His eyes are puffy and red, tear lines stain his face as a little bit of snot if still lingering on his nose.

You’ve never, ever seen Eddie cry out of sadness before, happiness, excitement, pleasure, sure but not sadness and it worried you to your core to know who or what did this to him. You take a seat on his bed, placing a hand on his thigh, the layers of blankets stopping any sort of heat of his to tough yours.

“What happened? Why do you think you fucked up?”

“Chrissy came by last night…” That’s when your ears perked up, so this was her fault huh? “She wanted drugs but I wasn’t sure she should do them alone since I figured she’s never done them before. Being miss popular “good girl” and all.”

Eddie sits up now, clearing his throat as you just sit there, leting him talk. “I offered to sit with her and teacher her how to smoke properly as to not hurt herself, you know?” You only nod, “Well we were sitting there a few minutes just passing it back and forth, talking occasionally until she asked me a question.”

“Which was?”

“Why do you act the way you do? It seemed harmless at the time, just something that one would ask the town freak,” Your heart pangs at the name he calls himself, “I retorted with a question of my own, following in her line of questioning. Everything was good, then she looked at me. Like really looked at me and I couldn’t hold back anymore, after what you said and the way she just seemed so damn pretty even after coming here with tears staining her face. I kissed her.”

Your eyes went wide. He kissed her. Eddie kissed Chrissy. Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham kissed. The “town freak” and the “cheery good girl” of Hawkins kissed. No matter what way you put it nothing changed. The boy you love, are in love with kissed someone else, someone who had a boyfriend who despised Eddie.

You’re silent, not even breathing as Eddie stares at you, “We only kissed for a few seconds but it was great, her lips were soft and sweet. I wanted to stay like that forever, I could’ve if she didn’t pull away. She told me it was wrong and she couldn’t do it, Jason being the one she loved, even though I know for a fact that he’s fucking other girls around the school.”

The words and thoughts of Eddie kissing Chrissy still heaven’t left your brain, you needed to get them out. “So that’s why you’ve been in here all day. Cause Chrissy rejected you? Not our fight?” You needed a clear answer.

“Yeah. I mean part of it was because we fought, but only a small part, most being because of the kiss.” His eyes are on his lap, where he messes with the chunky rings adorning them. You place your hand over his, stopping th nervous tick.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay. You’ll find someone else who doesn’t have a dickwad for a boyfriend and who loves you just as much as you do them and you’ll be happy. I promise,” Clearly you were talking about yourself but he didn’t need to know that. He gives you a smile and pulls you in for a hug, squeezing tightly.

“Thanks sweetheart. You always know what to say to cheer me up.”

“I’ll always be there for you Ed, you know that.” The two of you break apart, you missing the warmth of his body against yours all too much.

“Did I hear something about horror movies and milkshakes?” You laugh at his change in conversation.

“Yes you did. I went to Jay’s earlier to get your favorite, which I still don’t get ow you can drink a birthday cake milkshake but I still bought it.” You stand from his bed, extending your hand out to im, “Let’s get you out of here, watch some movies and eat a shit ton of unhealthy foods.”

Eddie takes your hand without even taking a second thought, letting you lull him to his couch in the other room. The two of you sit there for the rest of the night, watching movies, eating cookies and drinking milkshakes. Everything was back to normal, almost.

Your heart still beat for Eddie but you knew now that you couldn’t do anything to pursue it, knowing it would only confuse and hurt him more. So for now you would stay an arm's length away, letting him pull you in whatever direction he wanted, a smile plastered to your face the entire way.

Eddie Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpicc @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn-blog

You Belong With Me Taglist: @emma77645 @ch4rlie-blogs @lucyteennope @sidthedollface2 @f-me-reid @elvendria @amira0303 @comic-harley @futuristicbirdtraveler @eddiemunson95 @gemnetjournal @sakaur-i @bakugouswh0r3 @sunshineandwitchery @theonceandfuturewinchester @bibieddiesgf @harmfulb1tch @marsflys @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @daydreaming-mood @rach5ive @tlclick73 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @plk-18 @dreamerjj @ceda1063 @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @suzy2872628 @idfwfeelings @fanfangying1304 @buckybarnescouldchokeme @4bigail @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @siouxiesiouxtryhard @urinternetmom @fuckmylifedudee @aol19

[d-targaryenshoe]

Rather Or Rather Not - Luke Thompson

Word count: 868

Summary: Would you rather answer questions by yourself or to be joined by your lover and a friend?

The grand ballroom on the Bridgerton set was abuzz with excitement as a game hosted by Netflix began. 

You, Nicola Coughlan, and Luke Thompson, three of the most talented and beloved actors in the Bridgerton series, gathered around a lavish table adorned with candelabras and sparkling chandeliers. 

The theme of the game was Would you rather, inspired by your beloved show, Bridgerton. 

The air was thick with anticipation as you waited for the first question to be revealed.

"It's time to play!" cheered Nicola Coughlan, who portrayed Penelope Featherington, as she flitted about the room, handing out cards to each of the players.

 "Remember, you must answer the question truthfully, and may the best actor win!" With a dramatic flourish, she flipped over the first card, revealing the first question: "Would you rather... binge-watch the entire series in one sitting, or have to wait an entire year for the next season to premiere?"

You all glanced at each other, knowing full well that this was a question you had been contemplating for months.

 You, who portrayed the vivacious y/c/n, grinned widely and said, "Oh, I could never wait a whole year! I'd much rather binge it all in one go." 

Nicola Coughlan, who brought the iconic Penelope Featherington to life, nodded in agreement.

 "I completely understand," she said with a sigh. "It's torture not knowing what happens next."

Luke Thompson, your boyfriend and the man who played the dashing and mysterious Lord Benedict Bridgerton, chuckled and said, "Well, it seems you two have already made up your minds. In that case, I'll have to go with the opposite choice. I'd much rather take my time and savor each episode as they air." 

You and Nicola laughed, impressed by his restraint.

The next question was revealed: by you.

 "Would you rather... have your character end up with your on-screen love interest, or have them find true love with someone else?" you bit your lip, considering the possibilities. 

"Oh, that's a tough one... I think I'd want my character to end up with their true love. Even if it means someone else gets the happy ending, you know?" 

Nicola Coughlan nodded in agreement.

 "Agreed," she said. "As much as I love my character with Colin, I think it would be more satisfying to see her find happiness with someone who truly deserves it if the story would be different."

The tension in the room was palpable as the final question was revealed by your boyfriend. 

"Would you rather... have your character's life play out exactly as it does in the books, or have the opportunity to rewrite their fate and give them a different ending?" Luke furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

 "That's a hard one... I think I'd like to see my character have the chance to write their own ending. Even if it means straying from the source material, it's important for them to have agency and make their own choices."

Nicola Coughlan glanced over at you, who was still lost in thought. "What about you, y/n? What would you choose?" 

You looked up, a determined expression on your face. "You know, I think I'd rather rewrite their fate. Because even if their life isn't perfect, they can still find happiness in the end. And who's to say what's meant to be, anyway?" 

The other actors nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of the question settle over them.

The final question hung in the air, unanswered, but for now, it could wait. There would be plenty of time for more questions, more laughter, and more memories to be made.

 Because in the end, that was what being a part of the Bridgerton family was truly about: finding joy in the journey, no matter where it led.

The question was revealed: "Would you rather... spend the rest of your life in the world of Bridgerton, or step outside of it and explore new roles and experiences?" 

Nicola's eyes widened, and she glanced around the table at her fellow actors. 

"That's quite the quandary," she mused. "But I think I would have to say that I would rather stay in Bridgerton. Not only because I love it here, but because I believe that we are one family and that there is so much out there waiting to be told."

You nodded in agreement. "I feel the same way, definitely. This role has given me so much, and I think there are so much possibilities in this project. I can't wait to see what it still holds." 

Luke, ever the optimist, added, "I'd have to say the same. And I know that whatever comes next, we'll always have Bridgerton and each other." 

You all raised your glasses in a toast, the clinking of crystal against porcelain filling the empty ballroom with a joyous noise.

And so the game went on, the questions flying fast and furious, as you all shared your thoughts, your dreams, and your fears. 

You discussed your favorite moments from the series, your hopes for the future, and the lessons you learned along the way.

You laughed and you cried, you debated and you agreed, and through it all, you all felt a bond that went deeper than any script could ever convey.

[littlejuicebox]

ahhhhhh the first installment of Midnight Chimes is so good! I can’t wait for more! I also really like the AstarionxWren series, I loved jealous Astarion in Chapter 10! Would you be willing to write another small piece about him being jealous? Thank you!

Hi Anon! Thank you. I love some jealous, angsty Astarion as much as the next person! Here you go! <3

Warnings/Tags: In-game spoilers, fluff/angst, jealous partner, possessive partner (if you squint)

Word count: 1.4 K

-----

The group had only a few days left in the Mountain Pass region before they ventured into the dreaded Shadowlands. Halsin insisted on hoarding at least a quarter cord of wood for the journey; he said he would even pull the entire thing himself, in his bear form, if he had to.

The wood elf warned the others that the journey into the Shadowlands would be treacherous, and nary a living thing would be found. As such, he'd been more than adamant they all gather as many supplies as they could find and hold in order to prepare for the unknown atrocities ahead.

No one could deny Halsin was a magnificent specimen. Everyone in the camp had been distracted when the druid removed his shirt, revealing beautiful beads of sweat glistening on his remarkably chiseled chest. The late afternoon sun was beating down his barren back as he chopped relentlessly at a thick tree trunk, hashing it with sheer force and unbreakable will. Earlier, the spellcasters had offered to help the druid with the project, but he'd quickly brushed them off with an explanation that the repetitive manual labor cleared his mind.

The mountain of a man paused to drink water from his canteen and then lifted the bottle over his head. The cool liquid spilled through his locks before flowing in thin rivets down his face, following the force of gravity and ultimately dribbling down his barren torso. Astarion himself had been sitting with his mouth agape, watching the salacious scene. Honestly, it was a nearly impossible vision to ignore.

But then the silver-haired elf became absolutely engrossed in the event, unable to look away as you practically sprinted over to Halsin with a fresh canteen of water and a few damp cloths. You were fussing over the druid as he took a brief respite from his self-assigned chore. Astarion rolled his eyes in exasperation when he heard you lament the fact that it was so hot and insist you could help the druid chop wood.

Oh, please. He was certain you never lifted an axe in your life.

But, of course, Halsin was humoring your antics and absolutely devouring your attention. The druid took a few more sips of water, and then you two fell into what must have been a very pleasant conversation, judging by the flush of your cheeks and the giant grin on your face.

Astarion felt a pang in his chest as your laughter rang across the camp; coquettish giggles that had been previously reserved solely for him. Was he actually jealous?

No, impossible, he couldn’t be! The rogue could have bed anyone in the camp, Halsin included, if he so wished. You had simply been a matter of convenience. So what if you two spent nearly every night wrapped in one another's arms, it was merely transactional!

Wasn’t it?

“Your move, Astarion.” Wyll prompts with a small, mischievous chuckle.

“Huh?” The vampire responds dazedly, jerking his head back to the human man.

Oh, right, they were still playing chess.

Astarion glances at the pieces on the board, but he’s preoccupied by visions of you and Halsin his peripherals. The rogue picks up his remaining knight and moves it to E4. Wyll laughs in lofty delight and pushes his bishop forward, claiming Astarion's knight with ease.

The vampire groans in dismay before examining the tiny wooden pieces again. He and Wyll had made a bet: the loser had to leave camp and forage for a basket full of wild crops before returning for the night.

Astarion abhorred the thought of performing such a menial task, and he had been winning mere moments ago, before your little rendezvous with Halsin distracted him. He sighs and brings his hand to rest on the side of his face, trying to focus on the game, but your ridiculous laughter is ringing in his ears. Finally, the elf picks up his queen and moves it a few spaces to the left.

When he's completed his move, Astarion’s eyes wander over to you once more. Halsin is leaning into you with his muscular arms wrapped around your torso, broad chest flush against your back. He’s showing you how to properly swing the axe, the two of you moving in unison.

“Oh, come on!” Astarion shouts, no longer paying attention to the chess game at all. His fists tense into tight balls upon his lap; you had to know what you were doing.

Wyll is laughing. He's just won the game and misinterprets the vampire's exclamation as a response to the loss. "Hah! You have to be more careful with your queen, Astarion! Or else she'll be stolen away by the better player."

The pale elf snaps his eyes back to Wyll and then down to the board. Only then does he realize that he's lost the game, perhaps in more ways than one. Astarion frowns in utmost displeasure; the parallels of the warlock's statement are not lost on him.

Wyll is cackling as he hands the basket to the pale elf. Astarion growls and grabs the woven piece of wicker; as he walks out of camp, he is perturbed to see you still chopping wood with everyone's favorite druid.

Over an hour later, the vampire returns to camp with a basket full of foraged food, as agreed upon. He drops the basket in Wyll's lap with a huff and then stalks off to his tent without a word. When you pop by a couple of minutes later, Astarion is absolutely brooding, and pretending to occupy himself with a book he hasn't read a word of.

"Can I help you? I'm quite busy." The pale elf grumbles, barely lifting his eyes from the page to acknowledge you.

You don't take the hint and let yourself into the rogue's tent with a contented little smile. You move to sit next to your lover, and he dramatically leans away from you, turning his head to avoid your gaze entirely.

"Aw, come now, Astarion... are you still upset that you lost that bet against Wyll?" You murmur, cocking your head slightly, "He warned you that he was quite good!"

"I wouldn't have lost if someone hadn't distracted me." Astarion snarls, snapping the book shut and scowling at you, white eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"Distracted you? I wasn't anywhere near you!" You respond in surprise, eyes widening at the elf, "How can you blame me for losing, it's not my fault you--"

"You distracted me because you were practically drooling all over the druid!" The vampire hisses, no longer able to keep the boiling bits of frustration from spilling out of his mouth as he points the book at you in accusation.

"Are..." You pause, eyebrow raising slightly, copying the habitual expression of practiced cockiness normally displayed by your companion, "Are you jealous, Astarion?"

"Of the druid? Hah!" The vampire retorts, feigning disgust with a crinkled nose, though he realizes it's not too convincing, "Hardly, darling."

"Hmm... shame." You drawl, eyes narrowing slightly. You sigh and begin to shift, as if you're about to exit his tent, “For a moment I was beginning to think you actually cared."

"And where do you think you're going?" Astarion asks as you lift the flap of his tent.

Since entering the Mountain Pass, you two had shared a tent almost every night. Often, it was for sex, which he found himself expecting in a confusing state of yearning and apprehension. But sometimes it was simply for cuddles and conversation, and perhaps a little snack on his part. He found that he'd grown quite fond of your frequent interactions and the feeling of your warm body curled up next to him as you finally drifted off to sleep.

"To my own tent," You murmur, eyeing the vampire with a devious smirk, "Come and find me when you're ready to admit that you were jealous."

And then you're gone, and Astarion is left seething, watching as you saunter away.

Less than a half hour later, the vampire is at the entrance of your tent, his threadbare blanket draped around his arm. You lift your gaze from the dagger you'd been sharpening and eye him with a self-satisfied smile. You sheath the blade and bring your arms across your chest, waiting expectantly for the rogue's confession.

The pale elf groans in frustration, rolling his eyes up at the heavens, "Are you really going to make me say it?"

"Oh, absolutely!" You respond near-instantaneously, "No entry until admission is paid."

Astarion sighs and shifts uncomfortably on his feet, his lips pressed into a thin line. "I guess..." He starts, and then his tone drops into a barely audible whisper, "I guess I was a bit jealous."

"I'm sorry? I couldn't hear you. You'll have to speak louder, darling, as I don't have vampiric hearing." You say with a teasing, overly saccharine smile, "Could you please repeat that?"

"I was jealous!" He hisses, now thoroughly flustered by your mockery and pulling anxiously at his own ear, "There! Are you happy?"

This time you beam, and the smile is sweet and genuine. He feels the knot that was growing in his chest relax as your gaze softens. You scoot yourself over in your tent and chuckle slightly, patting the spot next to you. "Yes. Very happy. Now get in here, you sweet idiot."

Astarion enters the tent, immediately taking his place by your side. A smooth, pale arm wraps around your torso, and he presses a soft kiss to your temple before dropping his head and whispering into your ear, “The next time you're looking for wood, my sweet, it would be my pleasure to provide you with some. You needn't look elsewhere; I'm sure you'll find that the wood I can provide you is hard and ready to fill you with warmth every single time."

His hot breath tickles your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. You feel your face grow flushed at his overt innuendo, and the vampire chuckles at the splashes of red spreading across your neck and cheeks. He brings his tongue to run along your ear lobe, which rips a small, delightful gasp from you.

"Astarion!" You squeal, pressing a hand to the elf’s chest and moving away slightly in a half-hearted attempt to avoid the vampire's advances. Your tent is still wide open, and you don’t particularly relish the idea of everyone in camp witnessing your private life, no matter how nice it feels.

"That better be the only name I ever hear cried from your lips.” The rogue murmurs before moving forward and gently nipping at your lobe, grazing it between fanged teeth. He smirks and then hums contentedly before purring into your ear once more, “Now, be a little lamb and close the tent, won’t you? I believe we have some serious making up to do.”

[silly-honeybee]

What Blue Lock boys would get you for Christmas🎁

~🐝 Happy late Christmas my lovely sillies! I have been rlly busy lately so I haven’t had time to write💔 so I hope you enjoy this lil headconon on what the Blue Lock boys would get you for Christmas!

~~~

Characters: Bachira, Isagi, Chigiri, Nagi, Kunigami, Reo, Kaiser, Alexis, Hiori

Headcanon ~ Fluffy fluff ~ fem!reader ~ not proofread

Warning(?): mentions of bras and panties in Kunigami’s part. (don’t know if that makes anyone uncomfy or not so I’m putting this here)

~~~

start~~~🐝

Bachira Meguru

Silly things. He’d get you some silly and unnecessary things—

Like he’d probably get you a shirt saying “I love pizza” or something stupid😭

But he’d also get you some pretty cute things.

Anything matching, plushies, shirts, bracelets, etc..

He is indeed a goofball(we love him for that), but of course he knows how to give serious gifts(somewhat)..

The wrapping would be horrible, I gotta say that.. probably a bunch of holes basically revealing what the present was before you even opened it.. (he’s trying his best)

Oh well, whatever he gets you just know that he means it with a lot of love💕

Isagi Yoichi

He’d probably get you nice things for the winter, like a fuzzy sweater, scarf, boots..

Or he’d find a cute dress that he thinks would look nice on you, if you don’t like dresses then a cute pair of shorts or pants..

But, in general he would make sure to get you something he knew you liked, he thinks about you a lot, yk? ^^

(This is rlly short I’m sorry🙏)

Chigiri Hyoma

This man will spoil you.

You like Sanrio? Sanrio it is. You want makeup? Makeup it is. You want the full series of your favorite book? Books it is!

He never disappoints on Christmas, he knows what you like even if you haven’t told him—

Like he just noticed a certain detail of you having quite a few of this and that. He’d then proceed to Google about it and then find nice things from it🫶

Nagi Seishiro

He’d probably be a little clueless on knowing what you’d want.. (not in a rude way).

So what he does is probably look back on the comments you made on certain characters you two have played in a game or what not. And the ones you liked he’d find some merch of that character..

Kunigami Rensuke

He’d definitely be brave enough to casually walk into the woman’s section of Target and get you a brand new bra and panties.

Based on his sister’s at home, they always seem to complain about their bras becoming loose and slack after a year..

So he assumes that maybe that happens with you too? He wants you to be comfy at all times💕

(I love this man😭)

Reo Mikage

He’d also spoil you like Chigiri, but probably in a more *ehem* Reo way..

Like he’d get you tons of stuff, too much to count. This man has money💰🤑

Every. One. Of. Those. Gifts. Have been thoroughly thought through as he was buying them.

He wanted to make sure everything was perfect💝

Michael Kaiser

Probably getting you something fancy..

A fancy robe, shoes, dress, etc..

Would also treat you to a restaurant date, Egon or something idk 🤷‍♀️

Alexis Ness

He’d get you anything you want😭

He’s such a sweetheart about it too, he would wrap your gifts in cute wrapping paper.

Every one of the gifts having a little tag in the shape of a heart saying: “To my love, from Alexis💕”

He’s such a cutie istg😭🙏

Hiori Yo

You two probably played animal crossing at some point together, so he’d definitely get you a plushie of whichever one was your favorite character!

He probably would accidentally reveal the gift before you opened it.. oopsie💕

~~~🐝 end

~🐝 I’m so sorry if some of these were short😭 like idk how to write for Kaiser,I sagi or Nagi- and there is no Rin included here bc I have no idea how to write for him🧍‍♀️ anyway! I wish you sillies a lovely rest of 2023💕

See you guys next year😋🙏 (I’m so funny haha)

Also look at this Bachira plush I got for Christmas AAAAAAA MY BBY😭 MWA MWA💋💋💋

[insanityclause]

EXCLUSIVE: One year ago we told you that a second season of John le Carré adaptation The Night Manager was quietly being developed under the codename Steelworks.

Now, Deadline can reveal that the BBC and new co-pro partner Amazon have gone big on a supercharged two-season order of the thriller, with Tom Hiddleston returning to lead, Hugh Laurie coming back as EP and with a new director in I Hate Suzie��s Georgi Banks-Davies. A third season has also been greenlit. David Farr returns as writer and Stephen Garrett is showrunner.

The Night Manager Season 2 will begin filming later this year and will pick up with Hiddleston’s Jonathan Pine eight years after the explosive finale of Season 1, going beyond the original book, which was written by the celebrated British writer in 1993. Additional plot details are being kept under wraps and there is not yet confirmation as to whether EP Laurie’s Richard Roper, who was last seen in the back of a paddy wagon driven by arms buyers who were not best pleased with him, will return to star. Hiddleston will also EP and will discuss in more depth on tonight’s Jimmy Kimmel Live!

Produced by The Ink Factory in association with Character 7, Demarest Films and 127 Wall, and in co-production with Spanish partner Nostromo Pictures, The Night Manager Season 2 was sold to Amazon by Fifth Season. The first was co-produced with AMC.

New director Banks-Davies, a BAFTA-nominee who takes over from Susanne Bier, has credits including I Hate Suzie, Garfield and upcoming Netflix series Kaos.

The Night Manager Season 1 was a huge success, watched by millions and winning multiple BAFTAs, Emmys and Golden Globes including best actor for Hiddleston. Also starring Tom Hollander, Olivia Colman and Elizabeth Debicki, it followed Pine – who ran a luxury hotel in Cairo – as he attempted to infiltrate the inner circle of Roper’s crime syndicate after being hired by Foreign Office task force manager Angela Burr.

The first season was commissioned more than 10 years ago and the show has since been remade in India, lapping the UK version by swiftly having a Season 2 greenlit for Disney+ Hotstar in May last year.

Simon Cornwell and Stephen Cornwell, le Carré’s sons who run The Ink Factory, said Season 1 proved “a landmark moment for the golden era of television – uniting on-screen and behind-the-camera talent at the top of their game – and an audience reception which was beyond our wildest imagining.”

They added: “Revisiting the story of Pine also means going beyond the events of John le Carré’s original work: that is a decision we have not taken lightly, but his compelling characters and the vision David has for their next chapter were irresistible.”

Amazon MGM Studios Head of Television Vernon Sanders said: “We are elated to bring additional seasons of The Night Manager to our Prime Video customers. The combination of terrific source material, the wonderful team at The Ink Factory, a great writer in David Farr, an award-winning director in Georgi Banks-Davies, as well as the talented cast truly make the series the full package.”

Hiddleston said: “The first series of The Night Manager was one of the most creatively fulfilling projects I have ever worked on. The depth, range and complexity of Jonathan Pine was, and remains, a thrilling prospect.”

BBC content boss Charlotte Moore added: “After years of fervent speculation I’m incredibly excited to confirm that The Night Manager is returning to the BBC for two more series.”

The Night Manager series two is created and executive produced by Farr, based on the characters created by le Carré. Additional executive producers include Garrett for Character 7, Banks-Davies, Laurie and Hiddleston; Joe Tsai and Arthur Wang for 127 Wall; Stephen and Simon Cornwell, Michele Wolkoff, and Tessa Inkelaar for The Ink Factory; Adrián Guerra for Nostromo Pictures; William D. Johnson for Demarest Films, Nick Cornwell, Susanne Bier, Chris Rice for Fifth Season and Gaynor Holmes for the BBC.

[greetingfromthedead]

Plantheat (Vash x F!Reader)

Plot: About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.

Series: None (oneshot)

Pairing: Vash x F!Reader

Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI

Tags: no use of y/n, plantheat, rutting, pwp, smut, light BDSM, mention of breeding kink, cum kink ig, hand job, blowjob, p in v sex, joyous use of a couch, copious amount of... cum, rough sex, aphrodisiac, some spanking, blushing Vash → rutting Vash

Word count: 4.3k

Author's Note: If you know me or my other work... no you don't. Idk where this came from and it has already been revised... it was worse.

Vash has been avoiding your gaze all morning, generally curling up in bed and pulling the blanket over his head. He insists he is feeling sick, but you suspect it's something quite a bit different. You go along with his behavior, only giving him a peck on the cheek from behind before you get out of bed again.

"I will bring you something to eat; surely that will make you feel better," you say from the door.

"Thank you, love, but I am not hungry. I'll just go take a shower." His muffled voice sounds from underneath layers of fabric. This answer confirms your suspicions, and you leave for the kitchen. There are only a few reasons your man would refuse food, and being sick isn't one of them.

You eat your late breakfast as you see him slinking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom next door. He held a bundle of towels, and the sweet smell following him leaves no room for doubt about what is really going on. You take a deep whiff and lick your lips, savoring the scent. You can finish your plate and clean up in the time it takes him to shower. He usually refuses to waste that much water, but the grunts you hear through the door reveal he is doing more than just washing.

You bite your lip, wanting to go in there, but stop yourself. Every time he tries to hide his heat, and each time he fails, yet seeing him struggle with it in the beginning always amuses you. So instead, you settle in on the couch, where you have a great view of the bathroom door. From the suppressed noises, you assume he jerked himself off at least twice, surely hoping to put off the effects of his time of the year. You try to think back to the last time, and it seems like it hasn't been quite a year yet, but you aren't complaining. Vash might think he puts you in an awful position with his unquenchable need that arises during this time, but actually you quite enjoy all the positions you end up finding yourself in.

He finally exits the room, a large fluffy towel around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders, catching the water droplets from his hair. His scarred and augmented chest is on full display, and you admire his broad shoulders. His body is a marvel to you, and even on a regular day, a sight like this makes your mouth water.

"Hello, my eyes are up here!" Vash tries to crack a joke, and one of his hands goes to scratch the back of his neck.

"I know. But I am not looking at them right now," you tease. "Come closer and let me get a better look. Do a spin while you're at it."

You see a reddish hue flush over his chest and neck while he walks closer to you. You can tell he's a bit nervous, but he obliges and does a slow turn, giving you a full view.

"Happy? I should go back to bed." He sounds very awkward, as he avoids looking straight at you and instead gazes at the bedroom door. With him came the same sweet smell as before, and it makes you painfully aware of the yearning in your belly, a desire to spread your legs right away. The smell alone is enough to turn you on, but tasting him would spell the end of your little game.

"Later. You took such a long shower; surely you feel a bit better now." You keep a careful eye on him as you speak. "You're all wet still; I'm surprised you're not shivering. Come here; I'll help you."

You reach out and tug gently on the towel wrapped around his waist. He obliges, but the blush is deepening on his face. He glances down at you as you place your hand on his stomach, wiping some droplets onto your thumb before sticking it in your mouth. You suck your finger dry and see his eyes widening.

"What? You used a lot of water; let's not waste any more." You say with a grin and pull him closer to run your lips over his skin, kissing away the wetness. You can feel his heart racing under your touch, and the maddening smell intensifies.

"Darling, I should..." A shudder runs through his body. "Go to bed."

"Don't you like it?" You run your tongue over the curves and valleys of his muscles, your hands firmly holding on to his hips.

"Oh, you know I do. It's just that…" He sounds breathless, and the crimson of his cheeks is accompanied by a pleading look in his eyes.

"You want to fuck my brains out." You finish his sentence with a smirk and pull away a bit to see him better.

"Yes. Yes, I do," he admits with a guilty look in his eyes.

"Why don't you?" You look at his face as his expression shifts from one microscopic emotion to the next. You don't actually need him to answer; you know his reasoning from the years before.

"I don't want you to feel used. I don't want to hurt you. I know it can get… intense," he swallows, and you pull the edge of his towel until it falls down. "And what if you get pregnant?"

"What if? Come on, daddy, don't worry about that." You say with a sultry voice, "Go on, give it your best shot."

"Don't say that," he exhales, and you can tell it gets harder and harder for him to keep his composure.

"Why not?" you smirk as your one hand wraps around his half flaccid cock, feeling it twitch at your touch. You let it slide through your loose grip until you reach the tip, your thumb rubbing against the sensitive spot, smearing the large glob of pre-cum that had already formed there.

"I can't resist you." He studders slightly and reaches out his hand to touch your cheek. "I want you. I want you so badly."

You feel a rush of desire wash over you as his words send shivers down your spine. You lean in closer to kiss his dry shaft, your fingers twisting just below the tip, causing him to let out a soft moan of pleasure.

"I'm right here," you say, barely pulling your lips away from his skin as you look up. "Use me. Any way you want. Any way you need."

He bites his lips hard, the redness not leaving his face as he meets your gaze. He watches you trace your lips along his length as your hand starts to move back and forth. Sloppier kisses leave plenty of spit behind for your hand to glide smoothly. As he is fully erect, the tip leaks with his arousal, providing plenty of lubrication. His eyes never leave yours as you continue to stroke him, his breath quickening with each movement. You are careful not to taste any of him, pulling away and instead adding your other hand to the mix.

His body leans back in pleasure as you increase the intensity. He arches his back and lets out a slight moan as he enjoys your touch. One hand strokes along the length while the other twists around the tip. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the sensation. The sweet smell of his aphrodisiac fills the air, and your whole body longs for it. You feel your own arousal growing stronger with each passing moment, the wetness collecting between your legs. You use your semi-clear head to tease him a bit longer; you know his quirks and know the best ways to build him up. You know exactly how to push his buttons and make him lose control, and with his especially short fuse today, you enjoy this while you can. His moans get louder and less guarded. It gives you massive satisfaction to hear him like that, seeing his muscles ripple as his body is overtaken by pleasure. He's putty in your hands, completely at your mercy. It does not take long to get him to his edge, only to lessen the stimulation and deny his orgasm. His eyes shoot at you again as you grin.

"Oh no, no, you don't get to simply torture me." Vash says, and there is an edge to his voice; the heat is taking him over, revealing his more primal and wild sides. "I won't let you have all the fun."

His left hand grips your jaw, and his right one grabs the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your head back. You can only guess that if you weren't still holding his cock tightly, he would have crashed into you for a fierce kiss, but this is not what happens. As you look up with your mouth pried open, he rolls his mouth and parts his lips to let some spit drip off the tip of his tongue. It lands on yours, and the aphrodisiac immediately fills your senses. You feel a surge of desire rush through your body. You want more. You need more.

He looks satisfied as your hungry gaze moves back on his dick. You feel ravenous for more and desperate to taste the sweetness again. Desperate to pull the pleasure from his body. You lick the fingers of one of your hands, savoring the remnants of his essence that still linger on your skin, but it is not enough. Sticking out our tongue, you place his tip on it, collecting the constantly leaking pre-cum that's a hint of what's still to come. You can't wait to have him inside you, filling you up completely, but for now, you want to taste him in the back of your throat. The desire grows, and the heat in your belly rises with each passing second. He has opened the floodgates, and you're sure you've soaked through more than just your underwear.

Hungrily, you start sucking on him while both your hands busy themselves with stimulating the rest of his cock. His hand, holding on to your hair, tightens, urging you on even as you gag on him. Your head is flooded with nothing but the desire to become his personal cum dump. The intensity of the moment consumes you, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure of submission. His moans of pleasure only fuel your own arousal, pushing you to go further and deeper, with noises of enjoyment escaping your lungs. In that moment, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation of being his willing plaything. You slide off the couch to kneel before him, ready to fulfill his every desire.

One of your hands goes to rub your pussy through your pants, but the friction is not nearly enough. You want him all over your body, but your own pleasure comes second. You're here to please him, to have him fill you to the brim.

His groans intensify as you rub his most sensitive spot against the slightly rougher texture of your tongue. Your hand still works on the length of his cock as you feel him twitch under your touch. You know he's close, and you're determined to make him come undone. As he reaches the peak of his pleasure, you can feel his body tense and his breath quicken. With a final, deliberate movement, you bring him to the edge and watch as he releases with a deep, guttural moan. Satisfaction washes over you as his cum fills your mouth, sending a new rush of desire over you. The sweet taste that fogs your senses and judgment is irresistible as you swallow; another wave comes as you squeeze every drop out of him.

You look pleadingly up at him as you lick the taste of him from your lips. You want more. You need to please him; all that is in your head is him. His body, his cock, his seed. You want to be completely consumed by him. You want him to ravage your skin. The thought can cross your mind as you feel him shift under your touch. He reaches down, sliding his hands under your arms and lifting you up off the ground effortlessly, like one would do with a child. As your feet touch the floor, he releases you only to wrap his arms around your body, keeping you upright even as your legs still adjust. He leans you backwards, his strong hand pressing on your lower back so you're flush with his stomach, and his lips capture yours. Adrenaline courses through your body the moment his tongue sweeps through your mouth, leaving more sweetness behind. You feel your heart racing faster. He breathes heavily into your mouth during the kiss, his hands gripping you tightly and possessively.

He takes a few steps forward, forcing you to stumble backwards, but you might as well have done nothing as he drags you to the edge of the couch, roughly turns you around, and bends you over the armrest. One hand presses on your back as if telling you to stay down. The other hand slides down between your legs to cup your clad sex, feeling the wetness seeping through the layers of fabric. You feel a surge of desire and anticipation; you need his touch like you need air. You stay with your face down in the couch cushion and your ass up even as he removes both of his hands.

"Good girl." His low voice praises you as you feel him take hold of the waist of your pants. He pulls them down slowly, feeling the resistance before your ass pops out. He swallows hard as his mouth waters at the sight, and he pushes the pants and underwear down to your ankles. He slaps you hard on your bare skin, leaving it red and tingling, making you yelp. You feel a rush of excitement as he leans in closer, his swollen cock pressed against your crack as he whispers close to your ear. "No time for pleasantries, Mayfly."

In a twisted way, he warned you to brace yourself for what was about to happen next. Quickly, he pulls away from you, and you feel his tip press against your entrance as he lines himself up. One of his long fingered hands grabs hold of your hip as he thrusts forward into your sopping pussy with no mercy. You cry out in pleasure and pain as he fills you. He wastes no time as he pulls back again and thrusts back in with even more force. Your legs tremble at the delicious pain of friction inside you as you still adjust to his girth. Your body arches in response to his relentless pace, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain with every powerful thrust. As his fingers dig into the flesh of our hips, yours dig into the cushion beneath you.

His pace is intense and unyielding, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Every breath escapes you with moans, even as your walls adjust to him. His long, hard strokes send waves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses with pure bliss. He lets out a few grunts through gritted teeth as your pleasures grow. The aphrodisiac he is constantly leaking makes everything tingle, while your sense of time and self slip away completely. All else disappears; it's just the overwhelming sensation in your cunt that travels up your belly as he rearranges your guts. Every touch and thrust is an exquisite torment that you never want to end.

Wild tremors of lust ripple through your being as Vash releases one of his hands only to grab hold of your hair and pull your head back, making you prop yourself up on your hands, your neck extended as far back as it goes. His blood is on fire while it courses through his veins, carrying the desperation of wanting to fill you up. His other hand, too, glides from your hip, sliding down the slope of your ass onto your back as he rams ferociously into you. Your pussy clenches around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he reaches his breaking point. With a groan, he releases himself inside of you, filling you with his hot cum. You feel the warmth spreading inside you, making you moan with pleasure. He keeps thrusting into you, showing no sign of slowing down, even as he makes you reach your climax, crying out his name in pleasure. Every impact he makes against your cervix pushes some of the hot, creamy liquid out of your body, making it drip over your folds.

He pulls on your hair harder, and the hand on your back wraps around to help you get up. You arch your back, sticking your ass out even as he pulls you close enough to kiss your neck. Vash whispers softly in your ear, "You're mine."

This only makes you ache more, even as the high of your first orgasm still lingers. You slip out one of your feet from the mess of pants to prop your knee on the armrest as Vash's throbbing cock continues to pound into you relentlessly. He has no cooldown period in his current state, continuing to drive you to the brink of pleasure and pain. The hand holding your hair moves down over your lower belly to your aching clit. His fingers brush over it with quick motions, filling the small room with even more wet sounds. The arm around you shifts up so his long fingers can wrap around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. The intense moans of pleasure escape you as choked cries. The next climax chases the last as you tremble in his grip, your fingers digging into the flesh of his right arm. The pleasure is overwhelming, as you barely perceive his own moans.

The satisfaction only lasts until the euphoria fades away, leaving you needing more. He pulls you closer, his cock in you as deep as it will go. He pauses his rutting for a moment, releasing your windpipe, and as you gasp for more air, he sticks the fingers of his other hand into your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your moans as you taste both of you on them, but mostly the overwhelming sweetness, sending you into a frenzy again.

You put both feet on the ground again, gripping his dick tighter as he sucks on your neck. You feel thick liquid dripping down your thighs. Your head is filled with thoughts of how to get him moving again as your tongue twirls around his fingers. You can't wait for him to come inside you again; that's all that matters. His free hand explores your body, tugging at your top as it passes over the fabric. You moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch, but as he reaches your thighs, he pulls away and out of you.

"This won't do." Vash takes a step to the left. The prosthesis pushes you forward a bit to bend again. "Spread your legs." He commands, and you comply. His fingers run up your inner thighs, sending shivers down your spine as he collects the cum leaking from your cunt. Vash fingers smear it on your pussy, pushing some back inside.

"I think you should just fill me up again." you say pleadingly, hands leaning on the armrest of the couch. "Please?"

You feel his wet hand run over your ass cheek before smacking it hard and squeezing it tight. You lick your lips again, missing the sweet taste of him, while your sex longs for him. Your breath is heavy as you wait for his answer.

"Tell me what you want." His voice is quiet but has an edge you don't usually hear. You feel a surge of desire coursing through your body as his lips brush your ear.

"I want you to take me. Use me, please. Do whatever you want; just please fill me with your cum. No, drown me in it. I'm begging you." Your voice gets whinier and weaker as you feel his hand explore your body. "Pin me down and fuck me."

"That's my girl," he growls in your ear before turning you around, ripping your shirt down the middle, and pulling it roughly off. His hands grab your waist, and you jump up, wrapping your legs around his middle. Your lips find his as you cup his face with your hands. The sweetness sweeps you away again, and your tongue explores the cavity of his mouth to find more. Vash carries you to the bedroom to continue having his way with you.

He throws you on the bed and wastes no time before climbing in after you. You look at him, your eyes trailing down his magnificent face and body to the still hard cock swaying between his legs, eager for more. His left hand captures your wrists as he pushes them to the bed above you. Vash's lips crash on yours again in a fiery kiss, causing your body to tingle with desire.

You spread your legs wide as he settles between them. His whole body pins you down, trapping you underneath him as his free hand helps his tip glide along your slick folds, teasing you with his touch before pushing into your depths. The sensation of being filled by him makes you moan in ecstasy against his lips, knowing that he is the only one who can make you feel this way.

His thrusts are shallow at first as he grinds his hip against yours. But soon he picks up the pace, filling you with each powerful thrust, rocking your whole body with each stroke. As the intensity builds, your breath becomes ragged. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slapping of wet skin on skin. You can feel the tension building within you, knowing that you are on the brink of an intense release. With each movement, he drives you closer to the edge, pushing you towards a climax that promises to be explosive. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every fiber of your being. Just when you think you can't take any more, the wave crashes over you, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body shudders with pleasure as you ride out the intense climax. Loud cries escape your lungs as Vash pulls back, releasing your pinned hands to straighten up more.

He doesn't relent for a moment, continuing to pound into you with all the energy meant for turning a whole town into a sinful pleasure paradise. Your mind goes blank as you feel his hand push down on your lower belly, lost in the moment of pure ecstasy. Every touch, every movement sends you deeper into a state of euphoria that you never want to end. Your pussy clamps down around him, and Vash lets out a moan of satisfaction, increasing the speed at which he's ramming into you. It's enough to have him coming into you again, each thrust causing more of his seed to escape your cunt and drip down your crack. You shudder in pleasure as you feel him release, hands gripping the sheets beneath. You arch your back and moan loudly.

Time loses all meaning. It is just pleasure, and one orgasm chasing the other for both of you. It fills you with happiness each time he comes undone inside you. It fills you with a kind of satisfaction your own climax doesn't bring for long. As his releases become more and more frequent, to the point where there is barely any time where he isn't shooting you up, you are in a pleasure induced bliss. You feel like you are floating on a cloud of ecstasy. He has grabbed your hips to raise your lower half up off the bed to slam his dick into your cunt with more urgency than before. His cum, mixed with your own juices, drips down your back, forming a puddle underneath your ass as he continues to thrust deeply and passionately. You moan in pleasure, feeling another climax approach like a freight train. You try your best to roll your hips on his dick as he holds them tight off the bed. Your hands grab your breasts, pinching on the hard nipples. Your body feels exhausted but is fueled by the aphrodisiac still in your system. You crave it like a drug.

Vash grunts in satisfaction as he comes again, and the wave washing over you pushes you over the edge too, your walls contracting around him in a pulsing rhythm so hard while he pulls back that he pops out. You whimper as, instead of slamming back into you, the length of his cock slides over your clit while he cums. You shake as he makes no effort to correct his aim, instead allowing himself to enjoy the rough texture of your lower lips. Each thrust leaves you gasping for breath and covers you with another of his loads. Your stomach and chest are slick with his cum, and some makes its way onto your tongue, making your cunt gush again as you long for him. Your body trembles with pleasure as you eagerly anticipate the next round of passion. You suck on your finger as you taste him on it, and you feel happiness as all the seed meant for populating a town with his offspring is all yours.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST (most of my other stuff is a lot more tame. Update: well, now there's an equally explicit Knives version of Plantheat too) and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

[prokopetz]

I have a pinned post for my games in development, but it doesn't really describe what they're about, and apparently this is something we're doing today, so:

My games in development, in rough order of priority:

(Note: all of these have public playtest drafts behind the links.)

Eat God

A game about weird little anarchist muppets with reality-warping powers themed after classic Looney Tunes gags wandering around a classic sword-and-sorcery fantasy setting stirring up trouble. Roughly 50% character creation rules by volume, with provisions for randomising every part of it; the linked draft, above, includes an online character generator if you want to play with it. The mechanics are a sort of elaborated spiritual successor to Costume Fairy Adventures, a game whose development I headed up about a decade ago.

Current status: actively writing, hopefully zeroing in on a feature-complete playtest draft within the next month or two.

Tiny Frog Wizards

One of my customarily literal titles, this is a game where you play as wizards who are tiny frogs. Features elaborate semi-freeform rules for casting spells, lots of big stupid random tables for when spells go off the rails, and absolutely no mechanics for anything that isn't casting a spell; it's a very focused sort of game. Narratively, it's a game about being an overpowered little twerp sticking your nose into other people's problems and offering solutions no-one asked for. Portions of the rules crib shamelessly from @jennamoran's Nobilis 3rd Edition, for which I offer acknowledgement but no apologies.

Current status: development of the text has been set aside for the moment to work on visual identity, with an eye toward crowdfunding an expanded hardcover edition later in the year.

Space Gerbils

A tactical mecha combat game with a very silly twist: the entirety of the tactical positioning occurs inside the mecha, because the game's premise is basically "what if instead of the Big Reveal at the end of Metroid (1986) being that Samus Aran is secretly a girl, Samus Aran was secretly 3–5 small gerbil-like creatures operating a person-size mech suit?" Players engage in positional jockeying and resource management to determine which stations they're crewing within the suit, which is boiled down to a single roll of the dice to determine what happens outside the suit. Includes papercraft minifigs.

Current status: essentially feature-complete, apart from some character creation options and a planned random mission generator; this will likely be the next game I crowdfund after Tiny Frog Wizards.

Indie RPG Prompt Generator [working title]

Essentially a joke that got out of hand, this is a big set of random tables of common indie RPG tropes that you can roll on to generate a description of a hypothetical game, complete with specific rules toys and setting beats. I probably could have finished this up already, but I decided to include examples of each rolled element, which turned into this big hairy research project I'm not able to give adequate attention to right now. If you've got a game of your own that you think would be a good fit for a presently unfilled example slot, please, let me know!

Current status: plugging away at it in bits and pieces as I'm able.

Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat

This is an anthology consisting of three minigames: the eponymous Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat, which is self-explanatory; Unfamiliar, in which you play as uncooperative wizards' familiars; and System Crash, in which you play as malfunctioning robots. More a series of formal experiments in character creation and group composition than proper full-featured games, all share the same core mechanics, with milieu-specific addons of varying practicality; for example, System Crash has specific rules for which senses each player is allowed to use when asking the GM for information, because it's completely possible to have a group in which only one of the robots can see. Large portions of Unfamiliar were later re-used in Eat God, above.

Current status: I have a list of notes as long as your arm on planned changes to integrate into the text, and I'm confident I'll get around to doing so one of these years.

Gone to Hell

Literally a Doom (2016) pastiche as a Belonging Outside Belonging game, which is just as silly an idea as it sounds; grown out of an earlier 24-hour RPG called Doomguy. The central conceit is that there's only a single player character, with players taking turns assuming the role of the Slayer, while everyone else takes ownership of the various hostile factions comprising the game's conspiratorial twelve-car pileup of a plot. Lots of pontificating about the implicit power structures of tabletop RPG groups. This one probably needs a full rewrite in order to lend a bit more formal structure to the "one player character, many GMs" conceit than out-of-the-box BOB offers.

Current status: I have not looked at this game in three years, which is actually a really long time for me.

Rotate Bird

Another of my "is this a formal experiment or a real game" titles, this one revolves around constructing characters out of abstract symbols, which are interpreted during play to retroactively define what your character is actually capable of doing. Even the title seen above is an interpretive approximation; strictly speaking, the game is called 🔄🐦. Possibly the most shitposty game I've ever written, which is saying something, but based on playtest feedback it seems functional.

Current status: the only reason this is listed as lower in priority than Gone to Hell is because I genuinely don't know what to do with it. It's probably publishable, with some cleanup editing and graphic design, but it feels like there's something missing. I'm open to suggestions!

Get in the Fucking Robot

A pamphlet-size, competitive, GMless title that's at least as much a board game as it is a tabletop RPG, this one is about a bunch of dysfunctional candidate mecha pilots competing to be the first to pilot the titular giant robot. The game is played under misère conditions: while each character's IC goal is to pilot the robot, each player's OOC goal is to avoid that fate, with the player whose character actually Gets in the Fucking Robot being accounted the loser.

Current status: playtesting suggests the current framework of play doesn't actually work – like, at all – so this one needs to go all the way back to the drawing board; I don't feel like doing that any time soon, which puts it squarely at the bottom of the list.

[sailoryooons]

Lights | Episode 0 | jjk (m)

❀ Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Producer! F. reader

❀ Summary: Meeting Jungkook was a chance of fate. A moment frozen in time, eyes meeting across a room full of lights. The more the two of you advance in your career, the more lost in the lights you become. What if you never find your way back?

❀ Word Count: 583

❀ Genre: Heavy angst, Idolverse, strangers to lovers, eventual smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Nothing really in this chapter, vague references to being a kid growing up in a competitive environment, reader being a little poetic about her childhood.

❀ Published: September 28, 2023

❀ A/N: Hola, in honor of 3D I decided to post the prologue of this thing I have been working on while on hiatus as a cool project to inspire myself to write again. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I am writing this story as though it were sort of a ... famous person tells all. 98% of the story will be in the present tense and we read it as if it's happening, with small interludes of present-day where reader is reflecting on her life in an interview with Namjoon. I have no idea if I will stick with it, so please be patient and let me write this at whatever pace works best for me. And remember - there are going to be very dark parts of this series, and Jungkook and reader both are going to have very ugly moments. If that’s not your cup of tea and you do not like to see characters epically fail and sometimes reveal the ugly parts of themselves, this fic is not for you. 

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment, or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This series in no way attempts to paint a realistic depiction of idols, or the industry, or draw comparisons. None of the scenes or elements in this series in any way reflect how I perceive the music industry and do not represent any opinions as a whole. This is not intellectual commentary, it is just straight-up fiction. 

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Ask | Lights Playlist | Tag Lists | Next Episode |

“In omnia paratus. Ready for anything,” you scoff, shaking your head. “Seems like a pretty big ideal for a teenager. You have to understand, we all felt that way. A bunch of kids working for the same dream, ready to push, shove, claw our way to it.” 

Namjoon adjusts his glasses and nods. His long legs are crossed at the ankle as he leans back in his seat, the perfect picture of poise. His glasses are low on his nose and he’s dressed in a warm cardigan today to fight off the chill of Autumn. 

“Was it really competitive?” he prompts, fingers laced together. “What was that like?”

“It’s hard to say. I viewed it through the lens of a kid at the time. I guess to me it would have felt like a game - be better than everyone else, get a reward.”

“And now, through the lens of an adult.”

You heave a sigh and blow out air. You're in the comfort of your home up in the hills, a fireplace crackling to your left. The production crew thankfully didn’t fuss with your living room too much. It was perfect the way it was, muted tones and lived in, not some minimal, sterile space like Seokjin might have or the maximalist terror of Taehyung’s estate. 

“Now,” you venture, slowly stringing the words together. “I think it was where I learned to take no prisoners and to do whatever I had to do to win. Being that close to your dream, and meeting the legends you want to imitate while living in constant fear it might be taken away… it creates a feral desire in you. Feeds the monster inside the kid that has just started to wake up.”

“Would you say that’s where the hardship began?”

You shake your head. “Not the kind that we’re here to talk about. It wasn’t like - I wasn’t a child star, you know? I was still relatively normal. It was school and working on dancing and singing and all of these things because I wanted to produce music and it was hard, but it wasn’t… It wasn't cruel. It wasn’t dark.” 

“When would you say is when it first really started to turn for you?” Namjoon asks, leaning forward a bit. “The first moment you can remember that you might have taken that first step towards everything.”

“In omnia paratus,” you murmur again. You think about that night, gaze unfocused. You no longer see Namjoon, but rather a shock of shaggy, black hair, doe eyes filled with promise, and an arm full of tattoos. “Ready for anything but Jungkook, apparently.” 

Namjoon raises his brows. “So the night you met Jungkook?”

“In nihil paratus. I was ready for nothing, least of all the likes of fucking Jeon. That was the first night my management ever asked me to do something extreme. So I did.” 

“Tell me about that night, then.” 

You remember it so well. You’re not sure how out of all the memories, this one seems so preserved. Crystal clear and sharp at the edges. You remember the tight, white shirt Jungkook was wearing, tucked into dark jeans paired with boots. His tattoos were stark against his shirt and his hair was wavy, a little damp with sweat. 

Jungkook had looked at you from across the event floor, an ocean swimming with swaying bodies and flashing lights, cryogenic fog hanging in the air. You’d just walked in, careful not to trip in your stilettos as you walked down the steps. Nervous. Near cracking under pressure.

And then you looked up, right at those round, dark eyes. 

In nihil paratus. You were ready for nothing. 

[vitusvital]

Cover Reveal

Behold, the cover of my next release, Heirs of Destruction! Design & art by sarahwithanhreads on instagram.

In the vein of Game of Thrones and Dune, this high-fantasy is full of political intrigue and romantic tension.

Asriel Veservus is not ready to inherit power. Rhaella cannot inherit power. Virgil Midar does not want power. With the threat of battle looming, they band together to uncover just how deep traitorous blood runs in their houses.

Heirs of Destruction is the first book in The Crownkiller Saga, a new high-fantasy series by award-winning indie author T.N. Vitus. Preorder on Amazon and add to Goodreads today!

[slashthrashandcrash]

GhostMeg/JedMeg Phantom AU where Meg isn't Christine, but a very competent stagehand who's good at running around and managing props and lights, and keeps getting closer to her sweet stagehand friend, with an excellent knowledge of the theater they work in, while getting menaced/seduced by the murderous Phantom, who also has excellent knowledge of the theater. Consider?

Literally been hoarding this ask for weeks because I didn't want to part with it without any art because I'm so insanely in love with this concept bestie you don't understand I'm feral right now--

Meg thinks Jed is just teasing her with ghost stories as a way of flirting, like he's making up this excuse on the fly as a reason why they should totally stick together to make sure neither of them get attacked by the elusive Ghost haunting the theater. Or maybe Jed does think these stories are real and wants to be extra cautious, which honestly makes him even dorkier and cuter to Meg, so it's still a win for him either way.

It's all fun and games until the body of a skeevy stagehand is dropped from the catwalk to be hanged by rope pulleys, which what the hell!!! Meg had those perfectly set up for the next show, man!!! Who's fucking with her hard work and ruining her gear??? Oh yeah also there's a dead guy that's kind of Not Good...

But that's the thing about ghost stories, they always insist to be true. And the Ghost himself is very eager to make Meg believe in him, no matter how much she tries to wave off Jed's concerns that she's being "haunted". What's more likely -- some kind of vengeful spirit living in secret catacombs tormenting the theater for sick pleasure, or simply a series of explainable accidents due to old equipment and careless workers? The reason nothing bad has happened to Meg and Jed is because they're actually good at their jobs, clearly.

Anyways, hey, did you ever notice that crack in the wall in the prop storage can be popped open to reveal a full door? Meg's gonna go check it out now, finding a basement space would be great to put spare lighting equipment (:

[anneapocalypse]

Why I Love the Hinterlands

The Hinterlands in Dragon Age: Inquisition get kind of a bad rap, and for kind of understandable reasons. For anybody who doesn't know the story, some context. The Hinterlands are the first open world area that unlocks for the player, a vast and highly explorable map full of quests, worldbuilding, and NPCs. So what was the problem? The problem was that the Dragon Age series had set two games' worth of precedent that the player could get locked out of an area and lose access to sidequests and other content—and the devs seemed not to fully realize they were fighting this precedent, or how strong it was, until the game came out and completionist players were getting exhausted and annoyed running around this huge map trying frantically to knock out all the side content before moving on. We still make jokes about devs on twitter trying to tell players that they could leave the Hinterlands. Lines were later patched in for the starting companions urging the player to go to Val Royeaux and advance the plot; you'll hear those lines if you play the game today, but they weren't there in the beginning.

The game's executive producer Mark Darrah has even spoken about this problem in his Dragon Age: Inquisition Memories and Lessons video on YouTube. From a game design perspective I do not dispute this issue. It definitely represents an oversight in the way the area is presented to players and the context they are given for what they should do next.

All that said… I love the Hinterlands, and with every replay (I have beaten the game four times at this point) my appreciation for this area and what it brings to the story has deepened. And as recent polls have raised discussion about the merits of various maps, I've felt moved to rise to their defense, so... here's why I think the Hinterlands are Good Actually.

Every map in Inquisition has its own overarching story, introduced by Scout Harding when the map unlocks and revealing itself through exploration and completing the quests within. Crestwood has the story of the flood during the Blight. The Exalted Plains have the story of the Orlesian Civil War. The Hissing Wastes have the story of Fairel and the surface thaig. And so forth. For this reason, I've come to feel that once you've progressed far enough in the main quest to have collected most or all of your companions, the most rewarding way to experience each area is at one go, as much as possible. Popping in and out of maps to complete one quest at time is, in my opinion, really detrimental to exploration and makes it harder to see the big picture. This is also one place where I really appreciate the invisible approval meter, because it discourages me from always stacking my party to game approval, the way I pretty much always play DA2.

At first glance, the story of the Hinterlands is the story of the ongoing war between the rebel mages and the renegade templars. This is one reason the Inquisitor may go there: to make contact with the rebel mages. They have been offered refuge in Redcliffe and are presently entrenched in the castle and adjoining village; the templars continue to attack the mages' position, and thus there is concentrated fighting in this region. Splinter factions of both mages and templars are also entrenched elsewhere in the area.

But this is just the setup. What the Hinterlands is about, its real story, is the common people.

The Inquisitor is first sent to the Hinterlands to make contact with Mother Giselle, in hopes of gaining some Chantry support. Seeking her out requires the Inquisitor to fight their way through the conflict to reach the Crossroads, where many refugees have gathered.

In these big, sweeping stories about heroes and villains, I think it's easy for the perspectives of common people to get kind of lost. One thing I do appreciate about the Dragon Age series is that every game does make a real effort to give voice to the commoner perspective. Origins has its city elf and casteless dwarf origin stories, and the player encounters many commoners throughout the game and gets to hear a bit of their perspective. Dragon Age 2 wouldn't be Dragon Age 2 without Darktown and Lowtown and the elven alienage and our interactions with the people who inhabit those parts of the city. Oddly enough, though, every human character we've ever had the chance to play in Dragon Age has come from a noble family; sure, Hawke starts out living as a commoner, but doesn't stay that way for long.

In Inquisition especially, we don't have the option of a commoner prologue to really drive home that perspective and carry it through the story. And while a Dalish elf, a Carta dwarf, a qunari mercenary, and a Circle mage certainly live very different lives than a human noble, they also live very different lives than Giles the farmer—not necessarily more privileged, but still different, with differing priorities and different stakes in this conflict. Bron the farmhand has no reason to be at the Conclave; he's here mucking out stalls, knowing the horses still need to be fed even if there is a rift spewing demons over there in the middle of the neighbor's pasture. Elaina the farmer is putting away cabbages for winter and hoping the barn doesn't get burned down by a stray fireball. And Elaina is one of the fortunate ones: her family's home and livelihood are still intact, for now. The Crossroads now hold many ordinary people who through no fault of their own have lost their homes, their crops, even family members.

Theirs is the perspective we get in the Hinterlands.

You don't have to stick around for all that. You can take Mother Giselle’s advice immediately, go to Val Royeaux, go deal with bigger and more important things and people. You will need 4 Power to go to Val Royeaux, but Power is easy to come by. Close a few rifts, and you’re good to go. You don’t have to care about these refugees and their problems.

But you know, something I notice is that the founders of the Inquisition spend a whole lot of breath talking about "the people." How they have to restore order for the people. How the people are looking to us—to you, Your Worship. The people need you. The people need to believe in you. That’s why we’re raising an army and building a cult around you! For the people.

Well, here are the people.

And if you talk to the people at the Crossroads, it turns out that what they actually need is less faith in Andraste’s chosen, and more blankets for the cold nights, medicine for the sick and injured, and food so they don’t starve. They need the war ended and the Breach closed so that they can return to what’s left of their homes and salvage what crops and livestock they can.

It is easy to feel a bit smothered by the Inquisition’s overwhelming Andrastian-ness, especially when playing a character who has their own religious beliefs, or none at all. We have a lot of characters trying to tell us about the importance of faith—their faith, specifically. We’re told that the people need to believe, and that’s why we have to play the role of this figurehead. And you can run with that idea and play it straight, if you want to. But there is, in fact, a different story to be found here, if you want to look for it—a story told in the world itself and the people who who inhabit it: people cannot eat faith.

And Mother Giselle, the person we are sent to the Hinterlands to find, knows this. She is certainly a devout Andrastian and deeply influenced by a life in the Chantry—but she also chooses to be on the ground helping people in need rather than arguing with her fellow clerics in Val Royeaux. After the attack on Haven, Mother Giselle and the Inquisitor have a conversation about faith, in which the Inquisitor points out, in one way or another, that faith may not be enough. Giselle may seem to disagree. Yet it is she who then leads the survivors in a song that does not mention the Maker or Andraste even once. The much-maligned “The Dawn Will Come” is so frequently assumed to be a Chantry hymn because it is Mother Giselle who starts it; even the fan wiki lists it as such. But I hear something much more akin to a folk song, a marching tune—not a high holy chorus for a cathedral choir, but a song with a simple tune and repetitive lyrics, about hope in dark times.

Perhaps she was rather more persuaded than she appeared.

When you ask your ambassador Josephine, “What do the people make of us?” she tells you how many noble allies you’ve gathered. And that’s not unimportant; this boots on the ground shit costs money, and most of that is coming out of noble coffers. But when you ask Mother Giselle, “How are the people?” she speaks of the terror and suffering of the people in the Hinterlands, and warns of mass starvation if the farmers cannot return to their fields.

This is the story of the Hinterlands.

And the density of side quests on this map reflects that. In addition to aiding the refugees with food, blankets, and medicine, there are so many more opportunities to help people in small but meaningful ways. An elven widower who cannot reach his wife’s grave through the fighting asks the Inquisitor to bring flowers there as is his custom. A grieving widow asks for the retrieval of her husband’s wedding ring from the templars who murdered him. A beloved ram has gone missing. A mage mourns her templar lover and the war that has come between them. A note speaks of two brothers, templar and apostate, torn apart by the war. A son has gone off to join the cult in the hills (no, not our cult in the hills, another one), and his mother needs the special remedy for her breathing problems that only he knows how to make. And so many more. Even the Winterwatch cult itself asks us to consider what it is the people truly need: the Inquisitor can enlist them as Inquisition agents, or ask them to aid the refugees.

Are all these sidequests vital to the plot? No. You can skip them if you want to. Are they relevant to the plot? Absolutely. Are they meaningful? To me, yes. Maybe they didn't change the whole world, but they changed something for these people.

It is so important to me that we get to actually meet the common people whose lives are depending on us. Whatever you think of the Inquisition itself, people actually are dying because of both the rifts and the war, and many more will die if these problems aren’t resolved. Meeting them, giving them names and faces and side quests dealing with their more mundane needs is so much more meaningful to me than standing around back at base being told “People are starving in the Hinterlands.”

It's understandable that the Hinterlands had to fight the precedent set by Lothering getting locked off, because in many ways the Hinterlands serves the same narrative purpose as Lothering: showing the effects of the present crisis on the common people and what's at stake for them.

I should note that the Hinterlands are not the only part of the game that addresses the impact on common people—far from it, in fact. The Exalted Plains give us a taste of how many have died for the Gaspard's attempted coup; Emprise du Lion shows us commoners kidnapped and tortured by Red Templars; the Winter Palace puts the bloody reality of the "Grand Game" in stark contrast to its gilded veneer with the indiscriminate murder of servants for expediency.

But it’s important that we are introduced to the suffering of the common people early in the game, when the Herald—not yet the Inquisitor—may still feel pretty shaky on their motivations for even sticking around.

While I've mostly been talking about non-mage commoners here, I do want to say a few words about the rebel mages as well, since they too are a part of the story of the Hinterlands. I hope that no one reading thinks I am blaming the rebel mages as a whole for what's happening in the Hinterlands, for what the common people here have suffered. The templars, notably, are not entrenched in the Hinterlands. Their present stronghold is Therinfal Redoubt, an old Seeker fortress, which is a significant distance from Redcliffe. The fact that the bulk of the fighting is taking place near Redcliffe, while we've no evidence of a mage offensive against Therinfal, makes it pretty clear that it is the templars who are pursuing the mages at this point, not the other way around. Certainly some in the region may not bother to make that distinction while their crops are on fire, but let's be clear about the story the map is telling us: it is the mages who are under attack here, not the templars. It is sometimes said that Inquisition deliberately draws a false equivalence between the mages and templars in this war. I would like to point to this piece of environmental storytelling as evidence that that is not entirely true.

Sometimes, it seems like pointing out that collateral damage happens is read as condemning an oppressed people for defending themselves. I want to make it clear that this is not what I am saying. I simply feel that those characters who have lost homes and livelihoods in this conflict are also worth seeing, and talking about. But I also don’t think it’s an accident that this is the map whose story is all about the suffering of ordinary people, and it is also the rebel mages who have their base on this map; the templars do not.

So, that’s why I think the Hinterlands are Good Actually! They contain an absolute wealth of worldbuilding, and their story frames the game’s central conflicts around the people suffering for them, early in the game when that perspective is most needed.

[rpgsandbox]

Official photos of the upcoming LEGO Dungeons and Dragons Red Dragon’s Tale set (21348) are officially here! Stacking up to nearly 3,800 pieces, the upcoming set celebrates the RPG’s 50th anniversay with six all-new minifigures, a giant Cinderhowl red dragon, and tons of other fiends.

The set has officially been named LEGO Ideas 21348 Dungeons and Dragons Red Dragon’s Tale – a departure from the fan-submitted model, which was called Dragon’s Keep: Journey’s End by original builder Lucas Bolt (known as BoltBuilds). The differences between the model that’s actually hitting store shelves and the original creation aren’t all that noticeable, but there are some adjustments!

LEGO’s first Dungeons and Dragons kit celebrates 50 years of the role-playing game from Wizards of the Coast and Hasbro. It stacks up to 3,745 pieces and assembles a fantasy scene. There’s a medieval building on the left, which is integrated into the stone of a dilapidated castle. There’s an extra 700 bricks from the original version. That increase goes towards a more detailed model, as well as giving some more love to the side build.

We’ve covered the Dungeon, but what about the Dragon? The LEGO set includes a massive giant Cinderhowl red dragon. It can perch on the castle tower, or just fly around in your own little adventure.

Alongside the actual model, the new LEGO Dungeons and Dragons set includes a handful of minifigures, as well as creatures for them to do battle with. There are six adventurer minifigures, including an Orc Rogue, Gnome Fighter, Elf Wizard, Dwarf Cleric, a Bard, and more. You also get three LEGO skeletons, too. The kit also includes a Beholder, as well as the Displacer Beast. We also get a small glimpse of a brick-built Gelatinous cube and the Owlbear. It’s a really solid mix of figures and beats for them to do battle with.

In true Dungeons and Dragons fashion, the LEGO set also includes a digital download for an adventure to recreate with the included figures.

You’ll be able to buy the LEGO Dungeons and Dragons Red Dragon’s Tale set (21348) starting next month. It officially goes on sale to the public on April 3, but LEGO Insiders will be able to get this one early – as per usual. It’ll drop at midnight on April 1 for those with a free account. It debuts at $359.99. The LEGO storefront page is at this link.

Plus, a Collectible Minifigure Series on the way

Alongside the main LEGO Ideas set, the collaboration will be continuing over to a Collectible Minifigure Series based around Dungeons and Dragons. The lineup will debut later this fall as a second installment of the 50th anniversary action and will include 12 different characters from the role-playing game. That includes Tieflings, druids, bars, and even the Mindflayer. The LEGO Group has now confirmed that it will launch in September.

Here’s a full breakdown of the Dungeons and Dragons Collectible Minifigure Series. Each of the blind box LEGO figures will sell for $4.99, and includes a minifigure alongside a fittingly-themed accessory. 

Tiefling Sorcerer with Red Baby Dragon

Golden Dragonborn Paladin with Shield

Tasha the With Queen with Cauldron

White Aarakocra Ranger with Dog

Mindflayer with Intellect Devourer

Dwarf Barbarian with Axe

Strahd von Zarovich with Sword

Githyanki Warlock with Knife

Halfling Druid with Bird

Halfling Bard with Lute

Lady of Pain with Cube

Szass Tam with Skull

[timeagainreviews]

Witnessing Greatness

Thinking about the most recent episode of Doctor Who, I find myself reminded of Roger Corman, who died last month. Corman was a producer and director of b-movies and television. He was also beloved by industry titans due to his work ethic and ingenuity as a filmmaker. What made Corman so unique is how he dealt with limitations. If an aspect of one of his films was lacking, he made up for it in other departments. If the effects were bad, the script had to be great. If the acting was hammy, he’d make sure the music gave it strength. Instead of spreading everything thin, he knew that giving a little bit more attention to individual elements would make for an overall better experience. If you’re not firing on all cylinders, make sure the ones that do are firing brightly.

“Rogue,” is an episode with many bright shining points, lighting up the sky of Regency Era Britain. But lost within that light are a few flickering bulbs that could stand to be turned a bit tighter. However, it’s not as though we’re poking around in the dark. Without a doubt, the brightest star in the Whoniverse at the moment is Ncuti Gatwa. In a stand-out performance from a series of stand-out performances, Gatwa has really outdone himself this week and I can’t wait to talk about it. The folks at Bad Wolf Studios have refused to spread things thin, but no story is perfect. For as much as I enjoyed this week’s episode, I didn’t have to reach far to find problems. But when I’m smiling this much, it’s harder to care.

It’s funny how a week ago I said I didn’t like fan theories and then promptly made one. Just as promptly, I am now abandoning that theory. After the trailer for next week’s episode, I no longer think Susan Twist is the Rani. I officially don’t know what I think. I kind of love that. I have seen the rumours of Susan Twist being Sutekh. Maybe the Doctor is in the Land of Fiction. The name S Triad is an anagram of the word TARDIS. Perhaps she’s the original owner of the TARDIS coming to retrieve it. The point is, she could be anyone, and I am not all that worried about it. Why that feels important is that I was often full of dread waiting for Chibnall’s next big reveal. I didn’t look forward to the ways in which he might next waste a concept by not properly exploring it. So being in a place where I am game for whatever feels zen.

Having two new writers this week was a major draw for me. I’ve seen what both Davies and Moffat can do, the good and the bad. This is the first time all season where I felt like we were truly wandering into the unknown. I did watch Loki season one, so I was familiar with Kate Herron’s work, but not as a writer. I was even less familiar with Briony Redman. But like I said, I’m game for whatever. The pair bring a metatextual reading to the Regency Era drama that fits Doctor Who’s brand of camp. I was reminded of Kate Beaton’s satirical comics from her “Hark! A Vagrant” series. “Rogue,” acts as a sort of love-letter to Jane Austen, so it’s only appropriate that they treat it with a playful touch. The Doctor and Ruby aren’t just visiting Bath in 1813, they’re cosplaying Bridgerton. But they’re not the only anachronistic party goers. This bash is about to go to the birds.

Leading up to this episode, an article in Doctor Who Magazine had given us random lines of dialogue from each story, including this one. However, the line “Psychic earrings. Choreography beamed into your motor system. Tap twice to choose your moves. It's like instant Strictly!” left me a bit nervous. We were fresh off of “The Devil’s Chord,” and part of me was wondering if they weren’t suddenly turning Doctor Who into a variety show. I’m joking a little, but I was rather relieved when the line turned out to be about dancing at the Duchess’ ball. The Doctor and Ruby are dressed to the nines in their period appropriate clothing. I love the idea of the Doctor wearing more from his wardrobe as it’s always been fun in the past. Tom Baker’s tartan tam o’ shanter in “Terror of the Zygons,” is one of his most iconic costumes. Ncuti said in an interview that he wanted his costume to make him look like he owned land. It’s a brilliant image to depict when you consider the Regency Era was merely four years away from the abolition of slavery in Britain.

The Regency Era also brought with it a change in men’s attire. Dandies like Beau Brummell popularised a look of comfort and wealth while simultaneously streamlining much of the frills from 18th century fashion. It’s funny to look at the ruffles of a dandy’s attire and consider it anything other than flamboyant, but it was a considerable shift toward more conservative styles. While women’s fashion continued to evolve, men’s fashion stagnated a bit. A standard had been established and you can still see its influence today with the basic suit and tie combo. No wonder the Doctors often dress like variations on Edwardian fashion.

The opulence of the period led to a lot of scandalising and gossip, which has given us centuries of great drama. While I’ve never read “Emma,” I have seen “Clueless.” I’ve never watched Bridgerton, but I can still get into the costuming and pomp. Basically you don’t need to be a fan of the genre to know the tropes. It was a nice change of pace that it was Ruby’s love for a tv show that puts things into motion. The Doctor and Ruby are tourists as much as the Chuldur, but with far less deadly consequences. Both groups are there to experience the emotional highs of the time, but the Chuldur don’t care who they hurt in order to do it. This of course is why Rogue, a bounty hunter, has also crashed the party.

You’ll be pleased to know I actually remembered to watch “Doctor Who Unleashed,” this week. Partly because I had some questions, but mostly because I wanted to hear them talk about the costumes and make-up effects. Davies mentioned that the season hadn’t yet had its baddie in a mask trying to take over the world, which I love that he considers. If you read my review of “The Witchfinders,” you may recall how much I appreciated the Morax being scenery chewing people in latex makeup. There’s something essentially Doctor Who about bug eyed monsters (sorry Sydney) and there’s something very RTD when those monsters have animal heads. Davies is now confirmed as a furry, I’m calling it.

The Chuldur share their appearance with birds, something we don’t often see in Doctor Who. I’m trying to recall bird villains from the show and I am coming up a bit short. There were the Shansheeth in the Sarah Jane Adventures, those bird people on Varos, that heavenly chicken from “The Time Monster,” and the Black Guardian’s hat. Considering all of the reptiles we get, I’m surprised we’ve gotten so few birds. If you also watched the Unleashed episode, you may have noticed that they digitally changed the bird version of Emily’s beak from black to orange. It’s the Vinvocci’s green faces from “The End of Time,” all over again! What’s funny is that this change in Emily’s beak gives her something of a penguin appearance. It’s not exactly the shapeshifting penguin I was hoping for, but I digress.

Speaking of shapeshifting, I rather enjoyed the Chuldur’s unique method of doing so. If you recall, when the Duchess spots her servant out in the garden, the bird form of the servant is played by the same actor as the servant. It’s not until she takes the form of the Duchess that her bird form also takes on the resemblance of Indira Varma. You don’t usually see that and I admire them for making two versions of the same makeup, if nothing else. Doctor Who has had its share of shapeshifters, so it’s nice to see them changing up the formula a bit. Unfortunately for the Duchess, this isn’t a Zygon type of body snatching where you have to keep the person you’re copying alive.

Ruby’s psychic earrings are doing a treat until they begin picking up interference from Rogue’s tech. A lot of people have mentioned that this episode seems to borrow a lot from “An Empty Child,” and so it’s only appropriate that the Doctor does a scan for alien tech. The source of the interference directs the Doctor toward the balcony where Rogue stands brooding. Meanwhile, the Chuldur version of Lord Barton has taken a liking to Ruby. The Duchess, still human at this point, attempts to introduce them, but Ruby is not impressed by the pompous dandy, referring to him as Lord Stilton. As Ruby strops away she notices a painting of Susan Twist’s character as an old matron. The Duchess refers to her as “the Duke’s late mother,” whose eyes still follow her around the room in judgement.

The Duchess takes her leave to the garden where she meets her fate with the Chuldur masquerading as her servant. We get a bit more of a look at what exactly the Chuldur do when they take over your body. What’s left of the duchess is little more than a desiccated husk. Meanwhile, in the study, Ruby has stumbled upon a rather intimate moment between Lord Barton and Emily. The bookcase obscuring her from the two frames them like a television screen. Ruby is unable to look away from the real life Bridgerton scene playing out in front of her. The Lord tells Emily that he will not marry her which would leave her ruined, but he is compelled by her nonetheless. However, before they can kiss, Ruby knocks a pile of books onto her head causing a disturbance. I rather loved this moment for Millie Gibson. It’s rare that women get to be portrayed as clumsy and that book definitely bonked her on the head. A great bit of physical comedy.

The Lord storms out of the room leaving Emily and Ruby to talk. Removed from the framing of the bookshelf, Ruby finds her compassion once more and comforts Emily. After all, Lord Barton was being a bit of an ass toward her. Emily is amused by Ruby’s modern sensibilities and lack of finery. You could tell this scene was written by two women as they actually take the time to let them have this moment. Meanwhile, the Doctor and Rogue take a stroll through the garden in order to size one another up. There’s a flirtatious energy between the two but a wary tension underlies the conversation. The Doctor muses about the stars, but on a terrestrial level. It’s not until he finds the Duchess’ shoe and then the rest of her that he gives away that he is not of this world. Rogue sees the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver and begins to suspect the Doctor is a Chuldur in disguise. The two confront one another as the culprit, but Rogue has the bigger gun.

Still comparing sizes, the Doctor and Rogue compare ships like they were Ten and Eleven comparing sonic screwdrivers. Speaking of sonic screwdrivers, it feels appropriate that the Doctor’s sonic would match his outfit. That’s so Fifteen. He’s a fashionable Doctor, so of course he would accessorise. It’s like they made his wardrobe and accessories with cosplay in mind. Rogue’s costume is also noteworthy. People have drawn comparisons between Rogue and Jack Harkness and it’s not difficult to understand. His long coat draws parallels to that of Jacks and he even mentions assembling cabinets in regards to the sonic. But what’s equally interesting is how Rogue’s gun resembles the type of handgun you would see in a Regency Era duel. Its barrel resembles that of a blunderbuss. He’s either deep undercover, or he’s got a thing for cosplay himself.

Rogue doesn’t get a lot of time for character development, but they do give him a few little moments, mostly through environmental storytelling. He has a striking birdlike ship fit for a heroic rogue, but inside it’s dirty and depressing. Possibly most telling on Rogue’s ship are the set of orange dice on his table. Rogue gets his name from Dungeons and Dragons, but beyond being a geek, these dice could tell us more about his personality. We learn that Rogue has lost someone, perhaps these dice belonged to them. Perhaps he is unable to move the dice from that spot because he didn’t leave them there. We also learn later that Rogue isn’t a very strong roleplayer. He’s quieter and more thoughtful in his improvisation. Perhaps his staged tryst was the first time anyone has asked him to roleplay since losing his partner. Either way, Jonathan Groff plays it with a vulnerable subtlety, and I loved it.

Speaking of loved it, we have now reached the portion of this article where I gush over Ncuti Gatwa. Now, I need to preface this by reminding you all that I have always been pro-Ncuti. I adored his portrayal of Eric Effiong in Sex Education. I never doubted for a second that he could pull it off. However, it wasn’t until this episode that his Doctor finally crystalised for me. We’ve seen that his Doctor could be flirtatious and fun, but we hadn’t yet seen the way in which he could use that to do Doctory things. We’ve had hot Doctors, but we’ve never had a Doctor who was so effortlessly hot. He’s hot in the same way the Second Doctor was bumbling, as in it’s almost a distraction from what he’s actually doing. It actually makes him slightly terrifying.

Even as his Doctor is standing in a trap, he’s able to use his charm to buy time. Also, once again the Doctor is stepping onto things that can kill him. An odd recurring theme. He maintains an air of authority even in the face of danger and that is so the Doctor. When the Doctor finds Rogue’s music playlist I think I may have melted. How could anyone incinerate such a beautiful person? How could you not want to dance right along with him? As much as I loved this scene and the meta reference to Astrid Perth, it does also buckle a bit under itself. First of all, wouldn’t the Doctor knowing an Earth song like “Can’t Get You Out of My Head,” make you question whether he was a Chuldur? Sure, they know Bridgerton, but it would be enough to give me pause. Furthermore, I’m not sure how seeing the Doctor’s many faces would cause you to not think he’s a shapeshifter. Kind of odd that one other face means shapeshifter but eighteen other faces don’t. Wait, did I say eighteen?

When I had first watched this episode, I didn’t immediately recognise Richard E Grant as the mysterious extra face in the lineup of past Doctors. We now have three extra faces in the form of Jodie Whittaker, Jo Martin, and David Tennant (again), but this extra Doctor wasn’t registering for me. At first I thought he was the Valeyard, and then I thought he looked a bit like Jim Broadbent, which is ironic considering “The Curse of Fatal Death.” It wasn’t until I got online afterward and saw people saying Richard E Grant that I could see it. I wasn’t even 100% convinced it was him, but I’ve heard they actually took new footage of Grant for that scene, so I guess it’s him. The more interesting question is which him is he? Is this the Shalka Doctor or the Fatal Death Doctor? Maybe he’s both. Maybe he’s neither. This wouldn’t be the first time they’ve given us retroactive Doctors. Moffat gave us the War Doctor to great effect. But despite a strong performance from Jo Martin, Chibnall did a piss poor job of establishing the Fugitive Doctor as a character. I’d love to get excited for this mystery incarnation, but I’m taking a Tim Gunn stance in the meantime- “Make it work.”

With Rogue now on his side, the Doctor takes him to his TARDIS so they can recalibrate his triform transporter to be non-lethal. Recently in an interview, Ncuti Gatwa mentioned he had gotten onto his agent about playing someone like the Doctor or Willy Wonka. It felt a bit like wish fulfilment for his Doctor to sing “Pure Imagination,” to Rogue as they entered the TARDIS. I really loved Jonathan Groff’s slow growing infatuation with the Doctor. I’m a big fan of “Mindhunter,” but it’s a very heavy show, so it was fun to see him in a more playful role. In many ways, Rogue feels like a bit of River Song and a bit of Jack Harkness. He’s something of a reboot and remix at the same time. I don’t doubt we will see him again, which would be a nice chance to give him some much needed character development, but for the time being, we’ve been given enough to work with.

The Doctor and Rogue’s plan is to draw the Chuldur to them by exploiting their love for drama and scandal. What better way to whip people into a frenzy in 1813 Britain than for two men to share a passionate dance together? Besties, I’ll be real, I was grinning from ear to ear. Watching Gatwa and Groff dance was very exciting. I’ve seen people complain that the Doctor and Rogue’s romance felt rushed compared to the “slow burn,” of Yaz and Thirteen. Slow burn is a funny way of saying “non-existent for two seasons.” And I would much rather see two men share a passionate kiss than two women share a passionate ice cream. What’s wild is that I’m not usually the kind of person who likes the Doctor to have romantic relationships. They managed without them for 26 seasons. However, due to Ncuti’s emotional availability, it works for me. I can buy that his time with Donna might have left him more open to romance. Furthermore, this is the antithesis of queerbaiting. Ice cream is not a payoff.

The Doctor ends the dance by staging an argument with Rogue and calling him a cad. But Rogue doesn’t respond in turn with the same volatile energy. There’s a hesitation on his end that feels personal. As I mentioned before, perhaps this is him working up the courage to roleplay again. Perhaps his lost partner was more the avid roleplayer between the two of them. Or perhaps Rogue simply has a softer approach. What I loved is that his marriage proposal felt equally as shocking, but in a more emotional manner. It even feels like it takes the Doctor by surprise. There’s a moment where it actually feels like a real proposal. The Doctor says he can’t and you almost believe he considered it. Or maybe the Doctor can’t even pretend to say yes because of his marriage with River song. If he undoes their wedding maybe it can revert us back to hot air balloon cars, Winston Churchill, and pterodactyls.

Not to be left out, Millie Gibson has gotten a lot of time to shine in this story as well. She does a fair bit of choreography, but there is one bit of her choreography of which I was a bit disappointed. After learning that Ruby is from the future, Emily reveals herself to be a Chuldur, and she wants to cosplay as Ruby next. However, Ruby’s psychic earrings come with a battle mode, which complicates things for the feathered fiend. My disappointment however, stems from the fact that they kind of phone in the fight choreography. They went through the trouble of hiring Bridgerton’s choreographer, Jack Murphy, for the dance sequences, but the fighting felt like a second thought. It could have been really cute to see Ruby do some “Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon,” moves, but instead she clobbers her with a book. A bit underwhelming. Still a fun idea, though.

The Doctor and Rogue abscond to the garden where they are pursued by the Chuldur who reveal their numbers to be greater than anticipated. As baddies go, the Chuldur were little more than hand wringing monsters foaming at the mouth for a bit of mayhem, but I liked that about them. The way they speak to one another reminded me a lot of the Slitheen. The last time we saw Indira Varma in the Whoniverse, she was playing Suzie Costello, the best part of Torchwood. Here she chews scenery with a zest befitting her brilliant makeup. The only time that I felt they went a bit too far with the Chuldur is when they call what they’re doing “cosplaying,” as it felt a bit too on the nose. Otherwise, I loved the idea of evil birds going around and messing up planets all too satiate a dangerous appetite for excitement.

The Doctor sees Ruby acting as though a Chuldur has taken her form and it brings out the fury of the Time Lord. I wouldn’t be the first and I won’t be the last to point out the parallels between this and “The Family of Blood,” wherein the Doctor has some long term punishment in mind for the bad guys. Unfortunately, it also feels like a case of writers giving the Doctor weird morality again. Rogue wants to send the Chuldur to the incinerator, but the Doctor wants to send them to a dimension where they can live out the rest of their lives somewhere where they can’t hurt anyone. How is that any different from what the Weeping Angels do? It’s “Arachnids in the UK,” all over again. When the Doctor expresses happiness that the Chuldur will suffer for a long time, it begs the question- as compared to what? I’m fine with the Doctor losing his temper and going too far, but what about his plan actually changed other than his attitude about it? He was always planning on sending them into a dimension where they would suffer for 600 odd years. A line of dialogue or two could have fixed that.

The Chuldur’s big finale is a wedding between Barton and Ruby followed by a light bit of mass murder, but the Doctor has other plans. The Doctor’s objection to the marriage reminded me a lot of Tom Baker. I could easily hear Tom saying that line about it being hard to hear things through those heavy doors. Gatwa has that bizarre alien charm that feels correct. However, neither the Chuldur or the Doctor know the entire story as neither side knows Ruby is still Ruby. So when the Doctor traps the Chuldur in the triform transporter, he’s also dooming Ruby to the same fate.

I’ve seen some confusion as to how the transporter actually works, but I think I can piece together enough to understand it. They had calibrated the transporter to trap up to six humanoids. When Ruby is first trapped, there are five humanoids in the trap. Rogue throws Emily into the trap bringing the count up to six. We’ve established that the Doctor was able to throw his psychic paper from inside the trap, so things can leave its field. My thinking is that as Rogue pushes Ruby out from the field, he overloads it with seven humanoids giving Ruby just enough give to fall out of the trap. What got a bit confusing is why didn’t Ruby just step out of her shoes? If you can throw psychic paper, then it’s not trapped by the field. Therefore, her shoes would be the only thing molecularly bonded to the field. They could even say the shapeshifters can’t step out of their shoes because they’re actually part of their bodies. But then we couldn't get the big sacrifice at the end.

The aspect of this that I found harder to follow was why Rogue would sacrifice himself in the first place. Sure he and the Doctor have chemistry and there could be a romance brewing, but he barely knows the guy. Perhaps he couldn’t stomach the idea of watching what happened to him happen to someone else. It was a chance to stop the sort of thing he was previously powerless to prevent. I could buy that well enough, but it barely felt earned. However, it fits the tone of the rest of the episode which was one of over the top romance and drama, so I digress. Around here, fun is king and fun I had. It didn’t matter that I didn’t fully understand people’s motivations. There’s plenty of time for that in the future.

The episode ends with the Doctor sending Rogues ship to orbit the moon until it can be retrieved again (or until the moon hatches like an egg, whichever comes first). He wants to move on, but Ruby won't let him until he takes a moment to feel his feelings. This is classic Doctor/companion stuff. The Doctor has always benefited from having humans around and I am glad they took a moment to reestablish that. The Doctor pulls out Rogue's ring from the proposal and slides it onto his pinky finger. Fans of Amy and Rory will recall that rings can be used to find lost lovers, so there's a seed of hope there. It was a fitting end to an emotional and exciting episode. I got to watch the Doctor and Ruby do Regency Era dances to covers of Lady Gaga and Billie Eilish. I got to see Indira Varma hunt people while dressed as a bird. This wasn’t just my favourite episode of the season, it may be one of my favourite episodes ever.

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Before I go, I wanted to apologise for how long this article took me to write. I’ve been dealing with some pretty heavy depression as of late, and it’s been hard to write these last couple of reviews. Even though I enjoyed both episodes quite a bit, it’s been a struggle. Despite episodes dropping at midnight on Saturday now, I don’t usually get around to writing until Sunday or Monday. But I didn’t get any good work done on this article until Monday evening. These articles are actually very therapeutic for me. It feels like a lifeline to the outside world. You may not think it, but I read every comment and every hashtag. I appreciate them all. Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff. It means a lot.