#the pen tool is my arch enemy

[rmnamjoons]

Exposed [KNJ]

summary: You’re a cat burglar in a city overrun with crime and corruption. Your sights are set on a new jewel in the city’s museum, until a certain masked vigilante tries to stop you.

pairing: Namjoon x reader

genre: smut, vigilante AU, enemies to lovers

word count: 9.7k

tags: rough sex, face riding, dirty talk, oral (both m and f receiving), constantly switching who’s in control, face riding, spanking, slapping, biting, some acrobatic shit, namjoon has impressive upper body strength

[read on ao3]

You stood on the roof of the city’s museum. A new jewel had just arrived yesterday, “procured” from Argentina, and it now sat in the center of a whole room dedicated to the treasures stolen from that region. You’d organized a deal with a woman with connections to the Bernardino Rivadavia Natural Sciences Museum in Buenos Aires, and figured that was good enough for your conscience. Now, all you had to do was steal it.

In the distance, you could hear sirens, a noise everyone in this city knew too well. The crime rate here was among the highest in the world, and still somehow climbing every year. Something about this city, these filth-caked gray buildings, these dark streets took everything good and broke it down into something unrecognizable, corrupting and twisting even the purest of people and ideas.

More sirens joined the noise and you figured that was only good for you; let them be distracted by something actually bad while you slowly tried to set the world right your own way.

Thinking over your planned entrance into the museum, you pulled out your small metal-cutting laser, greatly improved from some of your clever engineering and only the size of a pen, from its spot on your thigh. Your all-black outfit was form fitting and let you move unobstructed, and was covered in places to hide small weapons and tools.

You used the laser to cut your entrance out of the large air conditioning vent, catching the piece of metal before it fell over into the shaft.

The plan went perfectly. Every step was executed with exact precision, and as you reached the roof again, you felt the jewel against your breast where you had tucked it and the small bag you kept it in for safety. You put the metal back over the airshaft, where it would stay until someone hit it hard enough or the wind turned gale force.

You walked to the edge of the roof and looked back the way you came. The sirens had mostly died down now, but every few moments you could still hear a distant scream or gunshot. The breeze was cold up here, away from the steam rising from the sewers, and you closed your eyes, letting the wind distract you from your surroundings.

“I can’t let you leave with that,” you heard a male voice say behind you, drawing you from your thoughts. You didn’t jump or react, though he had managed to surprise you.

You’d heard of this masked vigilante before. Some boy in cheesy cape thought this city could be saved, or that it was even worth saving. You knew his brand of optimism, and it never lasted long.

“And how did you sneak up on me? Not many people can do that,” you answered instead, your voice low and sultry as you slowly turned to face him. This always worked when dealing with the men of this city.

The man stood with his arms on his hips like some cartoon superhero. His dark cape blew in the gentle breeze, completing the caricature, and you could just barely see the outline of his body in the darkness. Hidden under his all-black suit, you saw his large chest, wide shoulders, and muscular arms. You smirked, letting him watch you admire his body.

He wore a mask that showed his dark eyes, his mouth and chin exposed beneath it. You noted with a sly smile that his big mouth looked like it would be good for more than just talking. His eyes, on the other hand, were serious and stern, but you could see a gentleness in them, even in the darkness. He’d been fighting in this city for months, maybe even longer before that, but still somehow hadn’t been broken by it. Not completely, at least.

“You’re easy to track,” he said. "I’ve known about your deal as long as you have, and I knew you’d be here tonight.” He had a slight smirk as he spoke — confident, proud, teasing — and you didn’t think it was possible, but you were drawn to his mouth even more, hearing him be cocky like that. You swore you even saw a dimple when he smiled, which felt entirely too cute for a man with this commanding a presence.

“If you knew I’d be here, then why’d you let me steal it? Why not stop me beforehand and save everybody the trouble?” you asked, speaking slowly, carefully. You leaned back against the half wall of the roof’s edge behind you, almost sitting on it and spreading your legs just slightly. You smirked right back at him and bit your lip, looking down at his body again, hoping you’d make him think you wanted to chew him up and spit him back out.

“You’re earlier than I thought you’d be. I had you pegged for a dead-of-night cat burglar, not a 10:30 common thief. More people still awake and all,” he said. He didn’t seem to be intimidated by you, but when you pushed off from the wall and stepped toward him, he took a small step back.

“Looks like you didn’t peg me right. Maybe you should try again. Or I could peg you this time,” you said, batting your eyes and smiling at him. You took another step and this time he held his ground.

You circled him slowly, like a predator circling prey, watching him as he stood on guard but tried to look relaxed. This guy was easy to read; he shifted uncomfortably at your movements, not wanting to have his back to you, and you even caught him watching your hips sway as you walked beside him.

He straightened up and shook his head a little, refocusing. “Flirt all you want. I’m not letting you leave with the jewel,” he said, to which you laughed.

“Me? Flirting? Not my style,” you said, and you stopped circling and turned to face him, directly in front of him now, and only a foot or two away. He glared at you and clenched his jaw, and you wondered how that jaw would feel against your thighs, and if you were pretending to be attracted to him the way you did your usual targets or if this man was actual affecting you.

“What exactly is your style, then? Seduce anyone you come across into letting you go?” He didn’t say it like he was insulting you; that was his honest guess, and he wasn’t far from the truth.

You dropped your smile, serious for the first time with him as you spoke quietly. “You can try to stop me, but I am going to leave here with the jewel.”

“No, you’re not,” he responded firmly, his jaw setting.

You let your smile return, tilting your head as you pursed your lips.

“Oh, I love when you talk all dark and serious like that. Self-righteousness is a huge turn on for me,” you said, stepping back slowly until you were against the roof’s half wall siding again. You knew he wanted a fight, or at least was preparing for one, so you did the same.

“I’m being serious. I’ll take you out if I have to. I know how the museum got that jewel too, but you stealing it too doesn’t make you any better. Stealing is stealing, regardless of intentions.”

“Ohh…” You threw your head back and arched your back dramatically. “Keep going. God, that’s so hot,” you moaned, trying to hold in your laughter. You glanced up at him, and he looked annoyed.

“You’re hilarious. Can we skip this part and go right to when I take the jewel back inside?” he asked, though you could see his eyes moving slowly over your body. He undid his cape, letting it fall to the ground behind him.

“Only if you promise to be rough with me,” you said, zipping the front of your suit up all the way, completely securing it and the jewel hidden inside.

You took off then, sprinting for the edge of the roof to your left so you could get a running jump to a different building’s roof. Halfway there, however, your mystery man tackled you to the ground, pulling you underneath him. You’d landed on your face, the rough material of the roof like sandpaper on your skin.

He turned you over underneath him, and you kicked your arms and legs, thrashing under him as he tried to pin down your wrists.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled, his breath hot on your neck.

“Aw, baby, but I want you to hurt me,” you cooed back, and before he could respond, you brought your leg up and kneed him in the crotch as hard as you could. He was wearing protection there, but it still affected him enough for you to push him off and jump to your feet.

The man stood as well, attempting to throw a punch, but you dodged easily and threw one back, connecting with the side of his face and nearly knocking him over. While he was distracted, you tried to kick him in his side, but he caught your leg and threw it back down hard.

You took a few steps back, watching him, poised to move when he did. He glared expectantly, as if waiting for you to take your turn, refusing to strike first.

Instead of continuing, you turned and took off running again. You almost made it to the other side of the roof before he tackled you again, this time against the half wall at the edge of the roof. He tried to grab at you, trapping both of your arms as you struggled against him, his chest pressed against your back as he pinned you against the half wall.

You tried to kick back at his shins, but he grabbed both your wrists, crossing your arms in front of you and trapping you in place, your hands now down near your thighs.

“You’re an excellent fighter,” he growled, his voice a low rasp as he panted against your ear. You fought the urge to tilt your head to expose more skin for him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you said, just as exhausted.

You reached down suddenly and pulled out your small laser and used it against him, cutting through the suit covering his hip. As he felt you starting to do that, he leaned in and bit down on your neck hard, breaking skin. You both jumped away from each other in reaction, and you took your chance to run and escape.

~:~:~:~:~:~

It’d been two weeks since the incident on the rooftop. The jewel was well on its way to Buenos Aires, and you were now a few million dollars richer.

You’d had to give yourself stitches on your neck from the masked mystery man’s bite, to your deep displeasure. After fixing yourself up, you’d looked at your laser, and, just as you’d hoped, it had a little of the man’s blood on the handle. That and the photographs you took of the teeth pattern in his bite mark were more than enough for you to find him.

Kim Namjoon, son of the dead business tycoon that used to own half this city, had gone off the grid a few years ago and completely left the public’s radar. Some thought he’d moved away when things started getting bad, while more thought he’d just been killed at some point, like other public figures. It made sense to you, in a sick way, that this city’s masked hero was some rich boy who didn’t know the first thing about suffering or poverty.

You decided to find him. It wouldn’t hurt to have the masked vigilante on your side and to know he wouldn’t come after you, and if he refused to play nice you could threaten to expose him.

Finding him wasn’t hard once you knew his actual name. You figured out his story through the banks; he was spending a lot of money on his toys, and on perfecting his suit. You smirked to yourself and figured the next thing he’d be fixing it for was to make it laser-proof.

Your masked hero lived in a mansion outside the city limits. No staff on pay, no mail delivered there, the exterior dilapidated and boarded up. He even had his own electric system, completely off the city’s grid, though he generated enough power to rival the city itself. Hacking into your favorite military satellite, you watched him for a few days, tracking his movements, knowing when he was home and when he went out. He followed a strict schedule, coming and going at the same times each night. He seemed uptight like that to you, the kind of man who had to follow a strict schedule and do everything exactly his way.

You went to his house later that week, in costume. You still didn’t want him to know who you were, even though you now knew just about everything about him. It was late at night, and you’d made sure he was home by watching the satellite feed.

You entered through a window on the top floor, silently moving through his home. Most rooms were empty, not even lightbulbs in the ceiling, thin white sheets and dust covering what little furniture there was, leftovers from an era when normal human beings actually lived here. You realized too late that you were leaving footprints in the dust on the hard wood floors, letting him know your shoes size, how you moved, how you got in, and probably more if he’s clever, which you knew he was.

Namjoon was waiting for you on the second floor at the foot of the grand staircase you walked down, leaning against the wall so he could fully face you as you approached, arms crossed and a smug smile on his handsome face. You wondered if he’d posed there like that, waiting for you to make your first appearance once he’d realized you were here.

He was not wearing his costume. You could see his face, and, more than that, he was just in a t-shirt and light gray sweatpants. He had a large yellow bruise beside his left eye, a gift you’d given him during the rooftop fight. When he stepped away from the wall, you could see him grimacing slightly from the pain in his side, where you’d gotten him with your laser.

“Aw, how’d you fuck up your pretty face?” you asked, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.

“That’s funny,” he said, not breaking eye contact. His deep voice was gentle, almost calming, as opposed to the low growl he’d had when fighting. “How did you find out who I am? Because I found you with the blood from your neck, Y/N Y/L/N.”

He smirked as he saw your face pale, though you stopped yourself from otherwise reacting.

“Well?” he asked. He was still smiling wide, confident, his plush lips stretched thin. “How did you find me?”

“Blood on my laser. How’s your side feel, by the way?” you said, aware you sounded petty. “Why didn’t you come after me if you knew who I was?”

“Because once I found you, I saw your internet searches and knew you’d already found me too. By the way, hacking into military satellites and my bank? Not subtle.”

“Never said I was subtle,” you said, taking your hair down from the tight bun it was held in. May as well, you thought, now that leaving DNA didn’t matter. You kept on your mask, though; it was just a little thing that covered the skin around your eyes, but to you it was a safety net. He may know your name, but you knew your record and online information didn’t have current pictures.

“Are you going to tell me why you came here?” Namjoon turned and walked away from you before you could respond, hands now in his sweatpants pockets, apparently expecting you to follow him. You were surprised he was willing to have his back to you, though he seemed to be full of surprises.

“Just thought I’d stop in and say hello,” you said, watching him walk as you trailed behind him. He moved with less pain than before, either feeling a little better or getting better at acting.

“You didn’t think I’d know who you are and thought you could intimidate me with the power your information holds. You’d threaten to out me, maybe blackmail me, right? You never thought we’d be on an even playing field,” Namjoon said flatly, not bothering to even glance back your way as he spoke.

He led you into a large study, every spot of wall covered in bookcases, aside from the magnificent marble fireplace and a large wooden desk against a dark window. The fire was the only light source in the room, and he approached it, looking down into the warm light that danced across his clothes and honey skin.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly say we’re on an even playing field.” You stood near the entrance to the room, hesitant to enter further.

“I guess that’s right,” he said, turning around to face you. His smile was gentle and warm, like the fire behind him. “You’re a much better fighter than me.”

“I was referring more to the fact that you’re a millionaire with unlimited resources,” you shot back, to which he snorted.

You took him in, looking at his body as the fire illuminated him from behind. You noticed how his light sweatpants hugged him so low on his hips, the way his shirt stretched across his broad chest. He walked toward you slowly then, and you could see him through his pants; he looked like he’d gotten a semi just from the two of them talking and kind of threatening each other.

“You’re not exactly living in squalor. How much did you get for the jewel?” he asked, stopping a few feet from you. If he saw you notice his erection, he chose not to react.

“Enough to stay comfortable and keep getting supplies, like that nice little laser you probably love so much,” you said, glancing down at his hip with a smile.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "Another millimeter and you would’ve gotten through to my hipbone.”

“I’ll try to go deeper next time,” you said, tilting your head as you gave him a fake smile.

“You should see how it feels first. Seriously, if you ever tried to actually weaponize that, you’d probably be able to take over the world.”

“And then what, you’d come stop me?” you said, the corner of your mouth perking.

Namjoon didn’t answer. Instead, he took another step closer to you, his eyes locked on yours. You felt like you could see the fire in his eyes, through his eyes, though the fireplace was perfectly behind him. He slowly reached for your face, but you stepped back.

“The only picture I could find of you was from five years ago, the last time you were arrested. I want to see under the mask,” he said, his voice low and almost pleading. He watched you closely, his dark brown, almost black eyes searching yours. “Please?”

You didn’t know what to say. This man was too good; you didn’t know how, but somehow the corruption and darkness in this city hadn’t gotten to him yet, and you knew he’d seen it all firsthand. You knew just from the news and your recent research how much he’d been through, how everything twisted and evil had come for him at some point, how he’d nearly been killed probably a hundred times now. You’d thought him naïve at first, but maybe he was just stupid for still being as good as he was. How could someone who’d been through so much still be sweet and kind?

But here he was, saying that, saying “please,” not saying it yet but wanting something from you that you didn’t know you could give him. You knew you were drawn to him. You knew you were perfectly capable of fucking him right now and then leaving forever, but he was asking for a lot more than that and you both knew it. A man like Namjoon wasn’t the type to just fuck once and forget about it. He wanted to save you, from whatever it was he thought you needed saving from — the enemies you’d made, this city, your lifestyle, yourself.

Against your better judgment, you reached up, took off the mask, and threw it off to the side before you could change your mind.

Namjoon looked at you for a moment without a reaction, his face unreadable. You sighed, setting your jaw and looking off vaguely in the direction you’d thrown your mask, feeling naked without it under his intense stare.

Coming here was a mistake. You should’ve just killed him on the roof, or not bothered finding out who he was after escaping. Whatever it was that led you to willingly standing before this man without your mask was a big, fat mistake, but here you were, and now you had to deal with the consequences.

You dared to look back up at him, and saw him staring at the cut on your cheekbone and small bruise above your eye, both marks he gave you during your fight on the roof when he’d tackled you. He stepped forward slowly, reaching forward to touch you, and this time you let him.

Pushing your hair back, he revealed the harsh bite mark he’d left on your neck. It was scabbed over now, well on its way to healing, but you watched his eyes studying it and saw regret play out in his dark eyes, his brow furrowing as if surprised and concerned by how bad it looked.

He moved down slowly, glancing between your eyes and the wound, waiting for you to move or react. When you didn’t, he leaned in fully and kissed right where he’d bitten you, barely touching his mouth to your skin, his soft lips perfectly over his teeth marks. You tilted your neck, giving him more room to work, and realized that you’d closed your eyes without even noticing. This close to him, you could smell him — the hints of a rich, musky cologne he wore mixing with his soap and the scent of the burning wood crackling in the fireplace behind him.

Your back arched as you felt yourself shiver, your lips parting as goosebumps covered your body from just his warm breath on your neck again, just like the rooftop. This time, instead of biting, he left slow, open-mouthed kisses around the wound, his plush lips parting as he left the slightest amount of moisture on your skin from his wet lips and tongue. You almost moaned out loud when you felt his hands move up to cup your cheeks as he shifted to your face, his lips now pressing gentle kisses to the marks there.

Part of you wanted to push him away. Namjoon seemed like the kind of cheesy guy who’d want to “make love” instead of have sex or fuck, and you were not in a place mentally where that was something you’d allow yourself to do. You didn’t want him to be tender with you, because that meant opening up to him in a way you weren’t capable of doing with anyone, let alone someone who knew your name and your secrets.

You could feel yourself giving in to him with each gentle kiss he left on your skin. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth now, and you parted your lips further for him, your eyes still closed, your body ready to be claimed and telling him that with your posture, your face, your everything.

Namjoon picked up on it, kissing you then, firmly claiming you exactly how you’d wanted with an urgency you hadn’t felt from him before this moment. He moved his lips with yours, his tongue tracing your bottom lip as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tighter, one hand knotting in your hair almost painfully. You held onto him by his soft cotton shirt, grasping the fabric in your fists as you clung to him. His arms and chest were firm under your touch, his body an anchor in the ocean you felt yourself drowning in, and you weren’t sure if this anchor was keeping you steady or dragging you down further.

You heard yourself moan to him, and he growled back to you as if a response in dialogue. His mouth moved faster, deeper, hungrier with each small reaction you gave him, his head tilting to allow his tongue to swirl into your mouth further. He tasted like mint and coffee, his scent and taste overwhelming you as he moved your tongue and lips with his exactly how he wanted with another quiet growl you felt in his chest.

It didn’t surprise you at all that he was vocal like this. His lips, his hands, his whole body moved like he was starving but trying to savor you, like he wanted to swallow you whole and was just barely holding himself back. He moaned against your mouth, and it went straight to your throbbing core, nearly knocking you over from the intensity of your need for him. You were dripping for him, your pussy uncomfortably tight, desperate to be stretched out and filled by him and only him.

You reached up between your bodies and unzipped your suit, and he helped peel it off, touching your skin as much as he could as it was revealed to him, unwilling to part his lips from yours for even a moment. Your breasts were the first things freed and he took both of them in his hands, squeezing so hard you almost gasped.

Your suit was off down to your thighs, leaving you completely naked from the crotch up. He wrapped one of his arms low around your waist, his other hand on your breast, still massaging firmly. He used his body and his arm around your waist to bend you back slightly as he crouched, bringing his mouth to one of your nipples, his tongue swirling. You felt his teeth there and moaned, feeling him grinding his erection against your thigh and moaning back to you in response around your skin. You’d never been this wet in your life, and he’d only just started touching you. You were desperate for his touch, his fingers, his tongue, anything he was willing to give.

You stopped him then, pushing him back hard, making him stumble back a few steps with a dazed look on his handsome face. You pulled up your suit as he looked at you, confused, like a sad little kicked puppy.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon said, trying to read your face. His eyes were panicked, afraid he’d done something wrong or hurt you. You could see the shine of his saliva on his chin, and you even weren’t aware you’d touched him there, but the hair on one side of his head stuck out as if you’d been pulling on it.

“This. Whatever you’re trying to do. It’s not happening,” you said, sliding your arms back inside the skin-tight suit.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” he asked, still not moving.

“You’re going to fuck me, and then you’re gonna expect me to be ‘good’ or your sidekick or your trophy slut. You want to ‘tame’ me, or whatever this is,” you said, motioning at the space between you.

“No, I don’t,” he said, shaking his head and still looking at only your eyes. “That’s the last thing I want. I’ve done my research the past few days. All you’ve done… you go about things differently than I do, but your work is good. I don’t like your methods, but you get your work done effectively and this city needs both of us doing exactly what we’re doing.”

“So what is it you’re trying to do right now?” you said, still defensive.

“I just wanted to feel how you move when you’re a little gentler and not trying to kill me.” He smiled at you, kindness in his eyes, and he took one step forward, going no further.

“I don’t do ‘gentle,’” you said, reaching up and unzipping your suit again, watching his eyes light up as he let his gaze fall back down to your body slowly being revealed to him.

“I can work with that,” he said, and he stepped forward again, returning to you. 

He helped you out of the suit as you pulled his shirt off of him, your mouths crashing back together. His arm wrapped around your lower waist and pulled you against him, your bare chest pressed to his, his other hand tightening in your hair and pulling you to the exact angle he wanted you at. You pulled on his hair too, jerking him so hard he growled and bit down on your lip, while your other hand held onto his shoulder and dug your fingernails in, aiming to break skin.

You let go of his hair and reached down into his sweatpants, grabbing his length and squeezing roughly.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped against your neck, breathing hard. He pulled your hair, jerking your head back so that your neck was completely exposed to him. He bit down on the flesh of your neck at the same spot but opposite side from where he’d bitten you last time, making you cry out for him in pain and pleasure as he suctioned his mouth hard. You could feel his tongue on your skin, soothing where he’d just hurt you, and you grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up to look at you.

“Too gentle,” you said, and you shoved him hard, making him stagger back again, this time with a dark smile on his lips.

You slid your bodysuit completely off, now bare before him. His eyes immediately fell to your thighs, seeing your wetness already dripping down, and you watched his eyes darken and jaw set, his chest rising and falling deeply as he breathed through his mouth, already worked up just from the idea of getting to touch you.

You walked to him, now both standing much closer to the fire, nearly chest to chest again. He was much taller than you, so you tilted your head back, looking up at him like you were considering what you should do next. Namjoon watched you with an amused smile, though you could see how his pupils were blown out with lust and the way his sweatpants tented from his painful erection.

You put your hands on his shoulders and pushed down, and Namjoon got the message, dropping to his knees and looking up at you, waiting for whatever you wanted to do to him. He was obedient, but you could tell he usually liked being in control.

You hooked one of your legs over his shoulder and grabbed him by his hair, pushing his mouth flush against your pussy and grinding forward.

He responded enthusiastically, his hands moving to your ass to support and steady you as he opened his mouth wide, nuzzling his face in roughly and licking a wide strip from entrance to clitoris. He groaned and closed his eyes when you moved your hips forward, grinding against him again, and you felt him hold his tongue firmly in place to give you that texture to move against.

“So wet,” he tried to moan, but it was muffled as you rolled your hips, his hands moving with you on your ass. You could hear him licking and sucking, his lips moving to drink you up as you pulled his hair tighter and harder. He tried to spank you once, the harsh slap echoing off the walls, and you’d responded by jerking his hair even harder and grinding forcefully.

Namjoon sat back on his legs to work at a better angle, pulling you forward as his tongue moved in your pussy as deep as he could. He was obscene, slurping and moaning as his tongue fucked you and lips moved on you, his eyes closed as he enjoyed himself. You were so wet, you knew you were dripping down his face, and he didn’t seemed to mind at all. If anything, he enjoyed it; you felt the vibrations of his moans in your clitoris, which he tried to move the tip of his nose against as he worked your entrance so well.

His head tilted back, as if supporting part of your weight with just his face and neck, your body now over him completely as he held you up with his hands. You felt like you were burning in front of the fireplace, but every inch of your body was covered in goosebumps as you shook and moaned with each new movement of his tongue and lips. You threw your head back, your eyes squeezed closed as you rolled your hips and cried out for him in ecstasy; you’d chosen this position because it gave you full control, and yet here he was, reducing you to this, somehow taking over when you were the one who was supposed to be using him.

Namjoon slid one hand up your back, his long fingers spread wide, while his other hand went to the back of your knee on the leg you were standing on. He jerked you then, forcing that leg to bend, supporting your leg with his strong arm. Your leg was now caught and bent by his bicep, both feet off the ground as he leaned back just slightly, his center of gravity and upper body supporting both of you in this new impossible position. You looked down at him, not really believing what he was doing, holding you up like this and still moving his mouth and tongue like nothing had changed.

It felt so precarious, being held up like this by only his large hands, completely at his mercy, but the excitement of it thrilled you. You wanted to hit him when you felt his smug smile against your pussy, knowing he felt how much you liked this. He moved up and sucked your clit into his mouth, holding it between his teeth as he suctioned his lips and flicked it rapidly with his tongue, and you moaned and pulled his hair hard enough to make him open his eyes and look up at you.

Without stopping his mouth’s movements, he suddenly bent forward as if bowing, bringing your body down to the ground in one swift motion. You tensed and gasped, and it took everything not to smack your head off the ground, though the floor was covered in a plush carpet and Namjoon’s hand on your back kept you from falling too hard or fast. Well, you figured, he was definitely trying his best to fulfill your request for roughness.

Namjoon tried to move his tongue even deeper inside you now, his hands slipping down to hold your ass as he pressed you against his face harder, nearly lifting your entire lower body off the ground as he sucked and slurped and fucked you with his tongue. You swore his tongue somehow touched your cervix, and you looked down at him, only the top of his head visible as he worked so diligently.

Enough was enough. You pushed yourself up and to the side, rolling both Namjoon and yourself, sitting up to straddle his head once he was laying fully on his back. You were even closer to the fire now, the heat radiating into your already flushed skin, and you rolled your hips and pressed down hard, riding his mouth as he smiled and groaned in delight. You pulled his hair roughly, not missing the way his eyes rolled back in his head with each sharp tug.

You rode him like this, your thighs burning from the effort, feeling his tongue stiffen as he held it in place for you to fuck yourself on. You looked down at him and saw him watching you, his dark pupils blown in lust, both his hands now resting on your ass but letting you set the tempo. You felt his upper lip rubbing against your clit with each hard roll of your hips, and that combined with his eyes watching you so intently was enough to push you over the edge.

Your first orgasm hit you so hard you saw stars, your whole body shuddering as you stopped breathing, feeling only him moaning in delight as you spilled into his open mouth. He drank you up, using his hands on your ass to hold you perfectly in place as he sucked up everything you gave him.

As you came down from your high, you felt him still moving his mouth, gentler now, as if attempting to help you get every bit of pleasure you could from this. You jerked his hair once, your attempt at telling him to stop, but he just groaned and kept going.

You got off of him and moved down his body, seeing he was still painfully hard in his sweatpants. From what you knew of him so far, you’d half expected him to have gotten off to what you’d just done to him. He hadn’t, though, and though you hated to admit it, you were still so turned on despite the downright magnificent orgasm he’d just given you.

He was watching you, a lazy, satisfied smile on his smug face. You straddled his waist and his hands fell to your hips. The light of the fire made the wetness on his mouth and chin almost sparkle, and he smiled at you cutely, like he was proud of his work.

“Did you have fun, baby?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes with the light of the fire.

You slapped him then, hard across the face, taking him fully by surprise. He looked back at you with wide, shocked eyes, before a dark, almost sinister smile curled on his glistening lips. His fingers on your hips tightened, but other than that he did nothing violent in retaliation. Instead, he reached for one of your hands, and you let him take it, just to see what he’d do.

Bringing the hand you’d just slapped him with up to his mouth, he kissed your palm gently, chastely, closing his eyes and smiling softly in the stillness of the moment as he pressed his lips to your skin. Your fingertips could feel his cheek where you’d hit him, the way it was slightly red and warm to the touch.

You humored him for a moment, letting it happen, but when he let your hand slip from his, you moved down and wrapped that hand tight around his throat, squeezing so hard you felt his heartbeat thudding against your palm.

“What’d I tell you about being gentle?” you cooed, leaning over him and adding your other hand around his neck. Your bare breasts skimmed against his chest as you bent over and choked him with both hands, hard enough his whole face began turning red, and seeing him like this felt better than you wanted it to.

Namjoon tried to suck in a breath instinctively, his face turning even darker red, almost purple, when he couldn’t. He was drenched in sweat — from his exertion, lack of oxygen, and the fire beside you — and you wanted to lick every inch of him clean. You felt him trying to grind his erection up into you, so you moved forward to straddle his lower stomach instead, denying him even that. His Adam’s apple moved as he tried to suck in air, pressed hard against your palm as you squeezed his throat tighter still.

He brought one of his hands up and you thought he was going to choke you right back, maybe fight back or push you off when his survival instincts kicked in. Instead, he simply tucked some of your hair back behind your ear. Your hands tightened around his neck so hard, you started to pull his upper body up off the ground. Still, he did nothing — if anything, it looked like he was hornier than ever, closing his eyes and tilting his head back, giving you more room for your hands to hold him there.

“Fuck,” you hissed, releasing your grip on his throat and letting him fall back to the ground. He breathed hard, chest heaving and sweat rolling down his skin as he tried to catch his breath again, his breathing sounding almost painful for him. While you let the oxygen return to him, you looked down at his chest and stomach, seeing dozens of scars of varying size and age. You recognized this; your own body looked like this too, from years in your profession.

When you looked back up at his face, you wanted to roll your eyes. He was looking up at you with damn hearts in his eyes, tilting his head and smiling up at you.

“I told you I don’t want this to be gentle,” you said, snarling at him.

“You said that you don’t do gentle. I can still be gentle if I want,” he said, his deep voice rasping in his throat. You did roll your eyes now, because, just as you suspected, Namjoon was cheesy. 

He seemed to sense your mood shift, raising an eyebrow at you as he spoke.

“You really want me to be rough with you too?”

You looked at him pointedly, and that was all he needed.

He stood up then, making you fall back on your ass. Before you could react or move, Namjoon grabbed a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back dramatically to force you to look up at him. He towered over you, his still clothed cock only a few inches from your mouth. You licked your lips as you looked up at him, hoping he’d take the hint. From this angle, his eyes were dark, devoid of the care and adoration you’d seen there just moments earlier. The almost evil glint in his eyes spread to his lips, where he smirked down at you, almost out of character for what you’d thought of him before now.

This was exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to treat you like an object, so that when you left here tonight, you wouldn’t feel any attachment or affection for him. You weren’t sure that was possible at this point, but it was certainly worth a try.

You leaned in, trying to put your mouth on him, but Namjoon jerked you back by your hair. Almost to your disappointment, he pulled you to your feet, one hand on your arm and the other still tight in your hair.

“What is it going to take to get you to be good for me, hmm?” he said, moving his hand from your arm to your cheeks, squeezing painfully. He tightened his grip on your hair when you didn’t answer, shaking you once, so hard you felt like your brain rattled in your head.

“I thought I was being good,” you said, blinking up at him with a fake innocence that made his eyes darken and jaw set. You could tell he was enjoying this, even if it wasn’t usually what he liked.

He jerked you again, this time pulling you with him as he walked, his hand still knotted in your hair as he dragged you along. He stopped in front of the large wooden desk in front of the window, shoving you forward roughly and making you stumble forward into the desk, bending slightly where its edge hit your stomach. You couldn’t even react before he pushed you again, this time forcing you to bend completely forward against the cool wooden surface. Your arms sprawled in reaction to his shove, knocking pens and a paperweight to the floor. He took your hands, holding them both behind your back by your wrists with one hand.

“Give me a safeword,” he growled, grinding hard against your ass, drawing a small moan from your lips.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to answer like this, but you croaked out your response to him, the first random word that popped into your head. “Cinderella.”

Namjoon snorted. “That’s cute,” he said, his voice taunting, his grip on your wrists tightening as you heard him pulling down his sweatpants with his free hand. “Does that make me the prince?”

He let go of your wrists, and you knew to keep them where he’d left them. You braced yourself, feeling him take his cock in his hand and rub the head around your dripping entrance. God, he felt big. You wanted to see him so badly, to have that visual confirmation, and you tried to, twisting your head as you attempted to look back at him.

Instead, you looked up and made eye contact with him, and he cocked his head, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And what do you want, princess?” he said, letting go of his cock, which you couldn’t see behind yourself, anyway. You whimpered at the loss of contact, wiggling your hips in your attempt to entice him into finally just fucking you.

“Fuck, you’re needy. And so, so bad,” he said, gripping your ass with both hands firmly, pulling your cheeks apart so he could look down at you dripping for him. “God, I wanna fill you up, split you in half. Do you think you can be good for me?”

Instead of answering, you tried to hook one of your legs back around him, making him stumble forward against you. 

“I guess that’s a no,” Namjoon said, his deep voice sounding almost amused.

You heard him spit in his hand, and you smiled, expecting him to finally put his hands on you. You were wet enough you knew you wouldn’t need his spit too, but extra lubrication never hurt.

You gasped when, instead of feeling his fingers where you wanted him so badly, he brought down his hand in a harsh spank that made your whole body tense, your eyes falling closed as your mouth fell open as the loud sound echoed off the bookcases. The wetness on his palm made the sting so much worse, and he massaged you there with that hand now, his fingers digging into your flesh as he soothed away the pain he’d just inflicted.

“Count for me, baby. Out loud. If you mess up I’ll have to start over.”

You could barely process what he’d said before he took that hand and brought it between your legs, cupping your slick wet heat and rubbing his palm around sloppily, not doing enough to actually give you any pleasure from it, though you moaned anyway from being manhandled like this. He then pulled that hand away, making you whimper and bite your lip, and then you realized too late what he’d just done.

Namjoon brought his now soaking hand down on your ass so hard, you swore the desk shook. You legs twitched as you cried out from the sharp pain that spread through your entire body and made your back arch, presenting your ass to him perfectly, as if begging for more.

“I swore I told you to count,” he said, his voice steady and normal, as if talking about the weather. He spanked you again, your body shaking from the force of it.

“Two,” you moaned out, your body covered in sweat now, your breathing fast and hard.

He rubbed his cock against your ass roughly as he worked, letting you feel how big he was. You knew it was going to hurt, especially in this position, but god you wanted to feel him. You’d wanted this since the rooftop, and now he was finally here, bending you over a desk, and all you had to do was take his punishment and you’d finally get what you wanted.

Namjoon spanked you again, somehow even harder, and you moaned, what you were sure was the loudest sound you’d made in years.

“Three.” You tried to rub your legs together, desperate for some kind of friction, but he caught you and kicked your legs back apart.

“Such a naughty girl. I’m already punishing you, and yet you keep being bad.” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you upright so your back pressed against his firm, sweaty chest, his arm wrapped around you tight as he held you up.

“Do I need to try a different way of punishing you? Is spanking your ass raw not good enough? Do I need to get even more rough?” Namjoon growled in your ear, bringing his hand up to your throat, squeezing gently. He spanked the side of your thigh with his free hand, making you moan and close your eyes, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I asked you a question, princess.”

You reached back and grabbed onto his hair, pulling so harshly he moaned from it, moving his head in the direction you yanked him.

“Fuck me, now,” you said, hoping it didn’t sound like begging. You moved your hips back against his cock hard, and he moaned again, the noise broken and agonized.

Namjoon pushed you back down against the desk, your body almost bouncing from the force of it. He grabbed your hips, pulling you up on your tiptoes as he angled himself against your entrance before sliding into you hard. He was so obedient, even when you let him think he was in charge. You suspected he knew who was in control here, too.

You braced yourself on the desk and pressed your forehead against the cool wood as you adjusted to his size; you could feel his cock twitch as he stretched you, his hands squeezing your hips hard as he stayed in place, not moving. He felt decently long, but Jesus, he was thick. You eyes watered from the stretch, a moan catching in the back of your throat as you felt the way he throbbed inside you.

“You feel so fucking good,“ he groaned. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back into you, the heavy desk moving a few inches forward from the rough movement. "So fucking wet for me, dripping all over my floor.” He thrust again, this time moaning as his hips smacked against your ass.

You could hear his voice in his strained breathing, as if he was just barely stopping himself from moaning with each harsh exhale. His thrusts were hard and purposeful, picking up speed until it almost matched the throbbing in your pussy. His hands squeezed on your hips so hard, you could feel your skin and the bones underneath bruising.

“You this turned on just from me spanking you?” he gasped, the sound of skin smacking against wet skin matched perfectly with the desk hitting the wall with each thrust. He spanked you again, as if to illustrate his words. “I bet you got off after I smacked you around on the museum’s roof, naughty girl.”

“As if you weren’t hard the entire time,” you said back, but you could barely breathe or think as he pounded into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix with each rough stroke.

“You could tell?” he said between breaths, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. God, he was so arrogant. He had every right to be, you figured, if his cock was this good; every stroke filled you so perfectly, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning and clinging to the desk as he hit the exact right spot inside you over and over.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you groaned, and at that Namjoon let go of your hips, one hand reaching around to wrap around your throat. He pulled you up by your neck, your back against his chest again, his other hand moving down to stroke your clit as he kept fucking into you at his same brutal pace. As he pulled you up against him, your legs moved closer together as you tried to stand taller.

“Keep your legs spread,” he growled in your ear, squeezing his hand tighter around your throat.

“How ‘bout you make me?” you choked out, grinning wildly.

Namjoon stepped back then, his cock pulling out of you. You almost moaned at the loss, but he spun you around to face him, and his expression made you sober. He looked nearly delirious in pleasure; furious, violent, primitive, like a monster coming to eat you whole. He was seething, his large chest rising and falling as he looked down at your body, the corners of his mouth perking.

He pushed you back hard, making you fall back onto the desk, sitting on it and falling back on your elbows from the force of his shove. He grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you forward by them, now standing between your spread legs and sliding into you again in one fluid motion. One of his thumbs reached down and pressed your clitoris hard, not even moving, just pressing down so hard it hurt, and you threw your head back in pleasure, nearly smacking it back against the window.

Namjoon started up again, his hips smacking against yours so hard your body vibrated from it. He rubbed your clit furiously, your legs twitching as you gasped from the assault on your senses, the pleasure inside you bent like a bow and ready to snap. He was beautiful above you, his body dripping in sweat from his efforts, his hair wet from it. He was glowing in lust and delirium, the fire behind him casting a harsh warmth on his skin that almost made his eyes glow.

When you came, you reached out for something to hold on to, but just ended up knocking things over and off the desk. Your eyes were open but you couldn’t see, your mouth open but no air or sound passing through it. You made a faint choking sound, despite him not touching your throat, your whole body tensing as Namjoon kept moving, riding out your orgasm, only going harder as you took more and more from him.

After you came, your body went limp and he stepped back, letting you start to slide off the desk. He caught you by your shoulders, easing you onto the ground and keeping you sitting upright as you breathed hard, your lungs almost burning from the exertion of cumming that hard.

Namjoon held you exactly at eye level with his cock and you knew what he wanted to do, but he hesitated. His hand cupped your cheek, stroking your skin with his thumb as he looked down at you with sympathy and something else.

You growled up at him and he nodded, understanding what you wanted. He took his cock in one hand, now almost purple from how hard and desperate he was, and grasped the hair on the back of your head with his other hand. Bringing you forward, he rubbed the head of his cock against your lips, smearing your own wetness and his precum around on you. You tried to open your mouth and take him, but he held back, smiling as he just rubbed himself on your lips.

He finally gave in when you flicked your tongue out against him, and with a loud moan, he entered you, the velvety underside of his cock moving against your tongue as he slid into you. Your jaw hurt from how wide you had to open for him, and he wasn’t even halfway in when you felt him hitting the back of your throat.

Namjoon groaned, holding your head in place with both hands. He looked like he was almost in tears, and when you swallowed around him, he threw his head back and thrust his hips forward, making you choke around him.

Your eyes welled up as he held himself in place there, your throat spasming around him as you tried to breathe. You instinctively brought your hands up to his thighs, digging in your fingernails there, but Namjoon only pulled back enough to slam in again, your throat still tight and raw.

“Swallow, princess,” he growled down at you, and you listened, making him close his eyes and groan again, his hips moving forward and hitting the back of your throat as you teared up and gagged around him.

Namjoon fucked your mouth like this, hitting the back of your throat with each hard thrust. He set a brutal pace, almost making your head smack back against the front of the desk from the force of it. Saliva, pre-cum, and your wetness on your lips and running down your chin, you hummed around him, and that was all he needed to send him flying over the edge. He gasped, making a sound like he was in agony, and pulled out and finished himself off with his hand, letting his cum land in hot spurts on your mouth, chin, neck, and chest as he groaned loudly.

As Namjoon finished, he pulled your hair so hard your head tilted up, forcing you to look up at him. You watched as he looked down at you, and you imagined what you must look like to him: covered in slobber and his cum, lips red and swollen, hair wild, bruises and cuts covering you from your fight the other week, his bite mark and hickeys on your neck. He was just as beautiful, gasping above you, a dark bruise already on his throat, his body drenched in sweat and eyes glazed over in pleasure.

With his free hand, he took his still half-hard cock and rubbed your lips with the head again, moaning from how sensitive he was but apparently pushing through it. He spread his cum around your lips, and you let him, moaning to give him that extra stimulation from the vibrations.

“How was that for rough?” he asked, looking down at you with the same heart eyes he’d had before.

“Perfect,” you replied, returning his warm smile. “Next time, though, I want to be the one to bend you over the desk.”

[mwolf0epsilon]

Last one for a while. Maybe a story were Sammy and Norman go to war together.

This went into more Canon Divergent AU territory and I'm not even sorry.

Summary: War had given them a clearer perspective of just how dark and dreary the world truly was. So honestly when they'd gone back to the studio with Henry, they shouldn't have been surprised that Joey Drew was a vindictive creature underneath that deceptive smile of his.

---

     All things considered, being drafted hadn't been the worst thing to happen to them. Sure, the military was no place for a man of the arts or someone with a tendency to wander, but Sammy had been raised in a farm before moving to the city and Norman's father had been a soldier. They weren't strangers to waking up early and pulling their weight. Sammy having had to help his father clean the animal pens and lug around heavy bags of feed, and Norman being forced to run drills in the wee hours of the morning in case he ever found himself in a bad situation. One positive was they were in relatively better shape than when they'd still been working at the studio. Another was that they ended up in the same platoon as Henry. None of this erased the horrors of the battlefield though. When they'd finally gone home and begun the reintegration process, it had been... Difficult.

     Henry had been mildly disfigured in an explosion, the left side of his face a grim reminder of what he'd had to endure as it seemed frozen in an ugly droopy smirk. Norman's hearing had gone completely thanks to all the gunshots, years earlier than his doctors had estimated, and his bad eye had been gauged out by an enemy soldier in a knife fight, so he'd been gifted an eyepatch to cover it up. Sammy had lost his left arm, and his right hand had lost its pinky. Lucky sniper shots that had obliterated his ligaments, and basically obliterated his finger. They weren't intact, but they were alive. And going back to the normalcy of civilian life was hell on their traumatized minds. No one really gave a rat's ass about veterans, not as much as they claimed anyway. They'd gotten counseling, Sammy had been fitted with prosthetics, and they were expected to carry on as if they hadn't been trained and set loose like glorified attack dogs. Thankfully they had each other and their families to rely on. That bond did wonders for them. So imagine their surprise when one day, all three received a letter from one Joey Drew.

-

  "I knew I should have followed my gut feeling..." Sammy sneered as he stared at the seeing tool in his hand. By the 414th run, they'd all realized they each had one and that they'd been doing this song and dance for far too long. They were trapped, with no conceivable way of getting out. Because there just was no satisfying Joey Drew. The man was a goddamn perfectionist of the worst kind.   "You've been saying that for the last 10 loops." Henry pointed out as he balanced carefully on Norman's shoulders, reaching for a can of bacon soup in a very high shelf. "At this point I'm starting to think you're just cranky from being hungry."   "I'm not hungry! And I'm not cranky!" Sammy huffed angrily as he looked around. The messages on the wall still unsettled him whenever he read them. He couldn't recognize the handwriting. That's what bothered him the most.   "Sure are Sam." Norman smiled, having long since learned to read lips. He was in no position to sign however, so he was speaking up for once, that southern drawl of his still comforting to hear despite the rarity of having a fully vocal conversation these days. "Yous been bumpin' gums cuzz your feathers are all ruffled like one o' them birds a paradise."   "Why does everyone keep comparing me to a bird?!" Sammy looked at Norman in disbelief.   "It's the nose." Henry chuckled. "And the way you move..."   "You do this... This thing where yous crane your neck and look 'round an' 'bout all quick like." Norman said, tapping his chin thoughtfully before grabbing onto Henry's leg when he began to shake too much. "My Nanna had a parrot that did that too."   "You're comparing me to an old lady's parrot?! How dare you!"      Before the music director could get any more agitated he paused when he heard something fall in the next room. They hadn't quite left the music department yet (not until Sammy could mourn it for the millionth time), so movement this early was odd. Henry also found it strange.   "Looks like things might be changing up this run." Henry noted as Norman helped him down.   "Great... I hate surprises." Sammy sighed, tapping the prosthetic pinkie he'd been fitted with against his fake arm. The sharp little notes were somewhat soothing to him. He'd not lost his musical talents despite being unable to play as beautifully as before. Practice and patience,his sister often reminded him.   "What don't you hate?" Norman snorted, making the blond man pause in consideration.   "Chocolate." He noted. "And your face sometimes."   "Awww..."   "Guys, you can be sweet and flirt later. Let's see what's up ahead of us this time." Henry reminded them (or at least Sammy) as he approached the door.   "If we're lucky, permanent death!"   "What an optimist yous turned out ta be Sammy!" Norman rolled his eye after reading that particularly "chipper" suggestion. He quickly signed at him to cheer up a bit instead of souring the mood.   [Someone's got to be a realist] Sammy opted to sign at him so that Henry wouldn't tell him off for it. Best not test an artist's patience when anxieties were high. Especially when they'd be facing potential nightmare fuel unlike anything they could ever imagine. Because really, the world was messed up and people were out there killing each other, but at least you knew what to expect of a bunch of people with guns, knives and explosives. This voodoo witchcraft shit Joey had gotten into to get revenge on them? This was new territory and honestly the most vindictively ludicrous thing they could ever expect out of that devil Drew.

-

     Joey sighed, dissatisfied with yet another attempt to finish the story. It just never came out right. Their chemistry was good for slapstick comedy, and separating them gave the plot some good drama and angst, but overall he never quite found the proper ending his carefully crafted storyline required. Changing things up also did little to nothing. He'd given them so many good companions and plot points too... Buddy Boris, Alice Angel, Tom Wolf and Allison Angel, even a few restored Searchers and Lost Ones whenever he felt Sammy might need someone from his department to break out the guilt of his past unpleasantness... It just wasn't good enough. It never was!

     A knock on the door brought him out of it. Now... Who could that be at this hour? Turning his wheelchair around and moving out of his study and towards the entrance door, Joey was faced with someone he didn't at all expect to see.   "Nathan? Nathan Arch?"   "Joey Drew... My good friend..." The toothy smile leering down at him gave Joey a strange uneasy feeling. "We need to talk about something most... Interesting." His perfect ending would have to wait.

[doctorwhonews]

Resolution

Latest Review: Writer: Chris Chibnall  Director: Wayne Yip Executive Producers: Chris Chibnall and Matt Strevens Starring: Jodie Whittaker, Bradley Walsh, Tosin Cole, Mandip Gill, Charlotte Ritchie, Nikesh Patel, Daniel Adegboyega and Nick Briggs BBC One (UK) First broadcast Tuesday January 1st 2019 It may have displaced Doctor Who's Christmas Day tradition, but the "spatial shift" in TV listings for 'Resolution' made this story no less of a gift. With sections of fandom wanting a return of old monsters, and with some arguing for stronger narrative threats for Jodie Whittaker's Doctor to face off against, 'Resolution' delivered in spades. And though it might be a truism to suggest that no new Doctor is truly forged in steeliness until they have faced the Daleks, it's a piece of lore that's extremely well borne out here. And what a Dalek! Given the presence of a lone reconnaissance scout, this immediately had the feel of 2005's Rob Shearman-penned story, albeit reworked through the distinctive filter of Chris Chibnall's vision for Who. A steelpunk Dalek neatly recapped the sonic screwdriver's new origin story from S11.e1, with Chibnall again deciding to cast his showrunner's remit to 'make it new' into the narrative universe, having both Doctor and Dalek recreate their own remembered versions of the show's icons. At first, I was concerned by the DIY Dalek's design -- it reminded me of unofficial replicas and assorted fan builds seen over the years -- but on reflection, there was just the right blend of RTD-era industrial vibe, innovation (including the red-lit section set within the outer casing) and clanking homespun realism, given the story's clear justification for all this. The resulting 'Sheffield steel dalek' will likely prove to be a one-off boon to merchandising ranges, but Chibnall astutely mined Dalek mythology for some striking images and pay-offs; the mutant-on-the-back recalled iconic imagery from 'Planet of the Spiders' more than previous Dalek tales (and was occasionally a touch unconvincing, for my money), whilst the use of Dalek 'bumps' as housings for rocket-launchers was nothing less than inspired. This may have felt more like 'trad' Doctor Who at times, but it was also full of surprises and brilliant bits of imagination. Having the Doctor confront this Dalek inside GCHQ was probably my favourite moment of series 11, combining a realist/spy-thriller version of how a lone Dalek might actually try to seize power in today's Britain with the inventiveness of Doctor Who at its very best. There was an air of inevitability about the scenario, once you realised where the script was going, but it fused the ordinary and the fantastical in a perfect way for a post-Snowden culture. Likewise, removing all wifi -- no Internet and no Netflix! -- made the Doctor's arch-enemy a resolutely contemporary menace, even if the 'family cutaway' struck a slight misstep in terms of its broad comic intent and clunkiness. Another inspired moment, however, was the way that UNIT's non-involvement was tackled. Undoubtedly well aware of old-school fan complaints along the lines of "why weren't UNIT called in?", the showrunner dispatched these mercilessly. But the presence of a call centre operative reading off her computer screen put UNIT's demise squarely into the context of government efficiency savings, as well as implicitly evoking Brexit-style wrangling over international funding. Any long-term fans pondering how UNIT could have been so savagely undone via these real-world resonances might want to additionally consider the extent to which UNIT perhaps belongs properly and organisationally to the age of 1970s' public services and internationalism -- a world now undermined by decades of neoliberalism (traversing both major UK political parties). The scene may be strongly satirical, but its commentary remains perfectly evident: we can't have nice things like UNIT via any current politics of austerity or isolationism. Instead, extraterrestrial-incursion security has seemingly been privatised, resulting in MDZ's feeble defence of the former 'Black Archive' (you can't imagine Kate Stewart or Osgood allowing a Dalek scout to wander off with weaponry and propulsion systems).               This was very much a two-pronged 'Special'; a sort of double-A-side seeking to combine Dalek shenanigans with the emotional weight of Ryan's father reappearing. Perhaps these strands didn't always rest side-by-side as comfortably as the features of Aaron's combination oven, but on the whole 'Resolution' was a successful hybrid. It followed a textbook pattern by uniting its main plot threads at the denouement, both thanks to Aaron's engineering specs, and via the sting-in-the-tentacle of the Dalek's desperate final attempt at human possession. The thirteenth Doctor remained characteristically fallible, mind you, with her Dalek showdowns never quite going according to plan, and her "squid-sized vacuum corridor" expanding to human-sized proportions with almost fatal consequences. All of this allowed 'Resolution' to re-articulate Chris Chibnall's mission statement for Who -- that the Doctor's "fam" should be just as important as the Doctor herself. And so it is Aaron and Ryan who, acting together through forgiveness and love, finally overcome the Dalek's tenacity. In one strange moment, it even feels as though the script is reaching towards a parallel between family and monstrosity -- just as family is more than DNA and a name, as Graham tells Aaron, then so too is the Dalek more than a DNA identification and a matter of naming. Both Dalekhood and fatherhood hinge on behaviour, meaning that just as Aaron has to prove his status to Ryan then the Dalek is equally required to prove its nature to new viewers and new fans. This it duly does, the episode being jam-packed with gloriously retro extermination effects and Dalek ruthlessness. And though monstrosity and family are eventually opposed, with the "extended fam" predictably defeating the monster of the year, it is striking, in an episode where the Dalek's identity is initially a matter of DNA testing and naming, that the familial and the monstrous should ghost across one another.   This is a story firing on all machine-tooled cylinders. The direction from Wayne Yip is brilliantly kinetic and well-judged throughout, and the acting performances are uniformly first-rate. I'd especially single out Charlotte Ritchie, who does a lot of great work as Lin to really sell the Dalek 'pilot' concept, switching through various gradations of embodied Dalekness. In addition, Nick Briggs is on superb form, relishing the chance to do things such as providing maniacally extended and chilling Dalek laughter. I still miss the pre-credits sequence, though. The response to Graham's much-trailed question, "does it have a name?", would have been intensified by immediately then crashing into the titles. OK, cutting the title sequence buys a little more story time, but a few judicious trims here and there could easily have made room for the titles, and for a more dramatic punctuation of the Doctor's reveal of the Daleks. I hope that pre-credits scenes are restored across series 12. And on this showing, the return of the Daleks -- plural and non-DIY this time -- would also be most welcome in 2020. Regardless of how series 11 is packaged on DVD/blu-ray, it's difficult not to view this as anything other than the true finale to Jodie Whittaker's first season. The DNA of Chris Chibnall's vision for the show is coded right through it: fantasy plus grounded social/political resonance plus emotional realism, all added to an ethic of teamwork and elective family rather than Time Lord (super-)heroics standing front-and-centre. Yes, at times this Doctor seems more reactive or passive than in the past, as well as less torn by internal demons, and less shadowed by back-story mysteries. It makes the Doctor far less of a focal point, freeing up narrative space and time for at least some of the "fam", and reconfiguring Who in a more inclusive and mentoring mode than arguably ever before. Chibnall's work hasn't just been about bringing in new writers' voices, featuring new locales, and emphasising a renewed sense of Doctor Who's capacities to speak back to power. He has also resolved to give the Doctor a radical new stripe of narrative agency too, one less omnipotent, less certain, and more energisingly hopeful. And that, for me, is a resolution worth championing.                                          http://reviews.doctorwhonews.net/2019/01/resolution.html?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr

[shaudswrites]

Dear Jason i

A series of hypothetical letters from Jason Todd to Eddie Bloomberg in an AU where Jason got in touch with his old pen pal after the Lazarus Pit.

xxx

Dear Jason,

Jason, oh my gosh, they told me you were dead! Well, they never really told me, they don't really tell people those kind of things, but I heard about it on one of those news sights when you stopped responding. Guess you were right about trusting everything those things say, should have figured someone would have told me if that was really what happened.

Where have you been? What have you been doing all this time? Did you ever find your mother? Why'd you quit being Robin? I always thought you loved it, but I guess your mom didn't want you doing it anymore or something?

I'm so psyched to hear from you again.

Things have been pretty rough since Aunt Marla, but I'm doing my best to keep going without her, so you don't need to worry about me dying any time soon. Some advice from a former street kid would be plenty helpful if you've got it.

I was actually thinking of trying out for the Teen Titans soon, maybe then I can get the tools to fix up the suit. Fingers crossed I get in. Look at me talking about joining a superhero team like it's some school club.

Speaking of school, where are you even going that you need this creepy ninja guy delivering your mail. He nearly gave me a heart attack when he showed up out of nowhere this time!

Is it some kind of Batfamily (there's so many of you now) or is your mom some cool ninja assassin or something? It would just figure with all those old kung-fu movies you used to watch. (You don't get to judge MY movie choices.)

Hey, I just had a great idea! You could try out for the Titans with me. Wouldn't that be great? It'd be just like that one time we teamed up, but every day! You always said you loved being Robin, but you could get some new name. (Pretty sure there's a height requirement now, just a warning).

If you're really retired from the whole thing, that's cool too, after that whole thing you saw on T.V a couple people from the Young Justice quit too, and the team broke up.

Or does your mom not want you superheroing anymore? Oh no, she'd not teaching you to be an evil overlord or anything like that, right? The whole friends to enemies thing is cool and all, but I'm not really looking for an arch enemy right now.

By the way, did you know Deathstroke has a daughter? Like, THE TERMINATOR Deathstroke. I haven't met her, but I hear she's going to be on the Titans too.

Seriously though, I can't believe you're still kicking, it really IS like you came back from the dead, I think this is one of the coolest things that's ever happened. As long as you don't come after my brains, cause I'm using them.

As always, I hope this letter finds you in good health. (Or any health, geez you're alive!)

Sincerely, your PenPal

Eddie A. Bloomberg

PS: I won't tell anyone about your letter, promise, hate for you to get grounded over this.

[parkersrevenge]

Since I wasn’t quite sure exactly when the William Lloyd Garrison and Frederick Douglass feud began, I decided to start my research in December of 1853. From the digging I’ve done, I’ve learned that the feud began that August, and I fully intend on making more posts about this as I read through all the issues in those months.

From what I’ve been able to ascertain so far, Douglass and Garrison butted heads over the usefulness and legality of the Constitution, as well as Garrison’s often well meaning but still rather performative ally-ship. They parted ways, making some passive aggressive digs at each other, but then Garrison, who I have noticed often used the Liberator as his own burn book/callout blog, decided to take things a step further: He published rumors about Douglass cheating on his wife.

That’s when all hell broke loose, and factions within the abolitionist movement were forced to side with one or the other, or try to remain neutral. Douglass was essentially blacklisted, and this feud dragged on for months as his personal life was suddenly brought to the forefront and used against him. 

As I’ve said, I have a lot of backtracking to do in reading the paper, but the December 16th edition that I started on summed up aspects of the fight in the best way possible. Douglass and Garrison finally confront one another, and their banter is both entertaining and rather sad.

DOUGLASS

First we have Douglass basically referring to all Garrisonians as his frenemies, and then he adds this beautiful dig:

Douglass then calls out various newspapers that turned against him, and this response in particular is worthy of note:

“The Standard says, ‘He (Mr. Douglass) claims the right, in the face of Christs’s positive precepts, to kill his enemies.’

Now, really, if I claimed or exorcised any such right as this, among the first places where there would be danger to human life, would be the Standard office.”

After this we get to the really good stuff- Douglass calling out Garrison’s privilege.

Then he has a bit of a misstep, accusing Charles L. Remond of marrying for social status and calling his friend William Cooper Nell “a pitiful tool” and a “hanger-on”, which Nell is none too pleased about.

And then, finally, my favorite part of Douglass’ letter is this:

“Whether ‘the curse of worldly ambition’ is on me or not, it is very evident ‘the curse’ of William Lloyd Garrison is upon me.”

GARRISON

Every point Douglass makes is fair and accurate, which naturally means Garrison has to make an ass of himself in response. I will give him this, though- he makes an ass out of himself with style.

He does make one or two good points, though.

1. Anna Douglass writes to him saying that there is no current unhappiness in her marriage due to another woman. Garrison responds by saying that this letter is not only vague, but that it artfully dodges his accusations that there was unhappiness in her marriage due to another woman.

2. He states that the jabs at Charles L. Remond and William Cooper Nell are petty and below the belt- which is 100% true.

Now for everything else! He tries to white-splain the abolitionist movement, which is just.... terrible to read. I personally feel the man who escaped slavery is more of an expert on it, Garrison, just saying.

Then there’s this:

Dude.

“Mr. Douglass now stands self-unmasked, his features flushed with passion, his air scornful and defiant, his language bitter as wormwood, his pen dipped in poison; as thoroughly changed in his spirit as was ever ‘arch-angel’ ruined,’ and as artful and unscrupulous a schismatic as has yet appeared in the abolition ranks.”

DUDE.

[distortedfeels]

Words unpublished but have you seen the beauty of delving into the exclusives? His traumatizing of that pen scribes wordplay and play, instrumenting a symphony in my mind, avoiding the detonating explosives. Look to thee - webs unlimited and bound, taking down his arch enemies. A sun child at heart with a plot twist, hails hydra and sticks the flag of 'Wakanda Forever' in earth's roots and sprouts with secrets indebted from his artistic tool which is his pen. You see, stories are painted to give everyone an overview of what others are going through. A war so infinite with minds which once tamed can be finite as it is claimed. However, we rise with scenic, yet heartfelt tales displaying in landscape view her shores in black ink which allow me and you to reminisce the hurt, the pain, the memoirs, the broken prose yet romantic like the holy mosque entwined with the roses of gold where cats and people pray in definitive unity. And we rise, knowing that nostalgia got the motherly sun's horizons rocketing sky-high.

- distortedfeels

[kayawagner]

CASTLE OLDSKULL OSR Mega-Bundle 2 [BUNDLE]

Publisher: Kent David Kelly

You asked, and you shall receive!  All 30 DriveThruRPG / Wonderland Imprints releases from November 2016 to April 2018 are featured here, at a great reduced price.  This special bundle product contains the following titles.

ACR1 - Advanced OSR Character Record - Fighter Class Regular price: $0.00 Bundle price: $0.00 Format: Watermarked PDF The best, easiest, and most flexible Old School Renaissance (OSR) character sheets you can find. Here it is, my preferred and custom-built deluxe OSR character record sheet set … direct to you from the World of Oldskull campaign.  These sheets are designed for use with both Basic and Advanced style Fantasy Role-Playing Games, as developed c. 1972-1985.  If you’re looking for significant changes and innovations introduced beyond 1985, I believe you might be looking in the wrong place. ;-) You get over 100 pages of material.  This download pack includes seven files:  [1] A 75-page book of instructions (and illustrations) for the Advanced record; [2] the blank Basic record, in editable Word format; [3] the blank Basic record, in printable PDF format; [4] ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - 1,000 Rooms of Chaos Regular price: $2.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF "Ah, yes.  And what do we find here?  Why, the dark harlequin of the underworld neath Castle Oldskull, Groohlz-Drakha, has brought you his cruelest and most luscious map of the nether:  Herein you will find 1,000 Rooms of Chaos, direct from the most secret lore of Darkseraphim’s own Castle Oldskull.  But here in this codex, which I now grant you, lieth only the names of the rooms, mind. What lurks in each chamber within?  You as Game Master will imagine up the descriptions, the tricks, the treasures, the traps, and the monsters lairing within each Room of Chaos on your own." So.  The adventurers open the door at last, into the dread reach of the dungeon which you have not had time to design yet.  And there, to their ultimate bafflement, they di... CASTLE OLDSKULL - 1,000 Rooms of Chaos II Regular price: $2.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF "Ah, yes.  And what do we find here?  Why, the dark harlequin of the underworld neath Castle Oldskull, Groohlz-Drakha, has brought you his cruelest and most luscious map of the nether:  Herein you will find 1,000 Rooms of Chaos, direct from the most secret lore of Darkseraphim’s own Castle Oldskull.  But here in this codex, which I now grant you, lieth only the names of the rooms, mind. What lurks in each chamber within?  You as Game Master will imagine up the descriptions, the tricks, the treasures, the traps, and the monsters lairing within each Room of Chaos on your own." So.  The adventurers open the door at last, into the dread reach of the dungeon which you have not had time to design yet.  And there, to their ultimate bafflemen... CASTLE OLDSKULL - 333 Realms of Entropy Regular price: $2.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Herein you will find 333 fleeting glimpses of the World of Oldskull … the Realms of Entropy.  What wonders will you create from these enigmatic inspirations? The realms in this book will give you enthralling and mysterious idea-shards filled with exotic locales, disturbing secrets, and haunting monster encounters which you can make your own. Each of the 333 realms is uniquely named, and includes terrain details and revelations about the most unusual and powerful monsters who dwell there. Herein you will also find hundreds of suggested random encounters by terrain type, and a unique rumor generator. The rumor generator will intrigue your players, while simultaneously providing you with new hooks which ease the creation of wilderness locales, monster lairs, adventure plots, ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - City State Encounters Regular price: $5.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Assassins with envenomed daggers Sworn to exact the ultimate price … Veiled ladies of the evening Beckoning you on with painted eyes … Elegant nobles seeking adventure, Beasts and thieves lurking in alleys, Reavers and monsters stalking the rooftops, Crime lords, madmen, witch hunters, gladiators, All sharing secrets in an endless labyrinth Of arena and abattoir, temple and tomb, A thousand and one nights’ exotic tales Awaiting your discovery … Does this sound like the fantasy city-state of your dreams, the gateway to all adventure?  Or would you rather tell your players, “Okay, you guys heal up in town for thirty-six days, and nothing really happ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Dungeon Delver Enhancer (Character Creator) Regular price: $8.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF A decades-long labor of love: The ultimate old school character book. Your game, filled to the brim with every Pulp Swords and Sorcery detail imaginable, Will never be the same. Do your player characters ever seem less like heroes, and more like cardboard cutouts?  Do your campaign’s nefarious arch-villains fail to inspire fear, or even interest?  Do you need help with your next story hook or adventure campaign, creating compelling protagonists and enemies that your players or readers will never forget?  Look no further. The DUNGEON DELVER ENHANCER is specifically designed to enrich every aspect of character design, turning stereotypes into unique and engaging personas.  You can design thousands or even mi... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Game World Generator Regular price: $6.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Wolf-haunted wastelands of frigid tundra, Veiling lost cities sunken and frozen into the ice … Mist-wreathed mountains teeming with orcs, Goblins, demons and dwarven underworlds … Burning battlefields, reigned over By imperious and ancient dragons … Steaming jungles, filled with headhunters And savage apes, guardians to ancient temples Filled with accursed gold … These are the realms of old school fantasy role-playing, the world of your imagination.  This world is a dark and wondrous place, an endless milieu teeming with danger, intrigue, exotic wonders, epic quests, and the bold heroes and villains who dare to conquer all. And you, as the Game Master, are tasked with creat... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Monsters & Treasures Level 1 Regular price: $3.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF AND SO YOU DARE to open the dungeon door, delving deeper into the upper ruins of nefarious Castle Oldskull. The door opens with a groan, puffing moldy spores into the air. Some evil creature cackles in the dark. You grip your sword, thrust your torch into the murky shadows, and … What do you find? Snarling orcs? Skulking goblins who worship the fire demon who reigns in the Abyss? Dark elves wielding mithril blades, or a coven of scaly Deep Ones? Perhaps you are more fortunate. There are wary gnomes to parley with, and halfling burglars, dwarven rune priests, and the serene and vigilant elven guardians. Or perhaps you are cursed, and therein shall arise the loathsome shrieking fungi, or a swarm of venomous centipedes … This book has all the answers you require for your ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Adventure Generator Regular price: $8.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The world’s ultimate adventure creation tool.  Infinite possibilities await you in dungeons, the wilderness, the seas, skies, netherworld, and the planes of existence.  Whither are you bound?   Years in the making, mega-supplement GWG2:  OLDSKULL ADVENTURE GENERATOR is the “Rosetta Stone” of the Castle Oldskull system, the one master system which binds all of the present and future supplements of the Castle Oldskull OSR gaming universe together into a massive unified imagination engine.  Harness the power of over 30,000 data elements to create dungeons, villains, quests, and more.  Your worlds of adventure will never be the same!  Using this 700+ page supplement, you can create millions of unique adventures for your pl... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull D100 NPC Generator Regular price: $1.49 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Hello all, this one is short and sweet:  It's a 26-page old school Gygaxian OSR Non-Player Character (NPC) generator, designed to help you create NPC concepts in a very short timeframe.  You can use this book between sessions or even at the table to improv a character during a sandbox game.  Extensive tables are included to help you in determining an NPC's name, mythos/homeland, sex, race, class, experience level, ability scores, epithet (reputation), personality, likes and dislikes using only 8 or fewer dice rolls.  Appendices are included to assist you in the determination of carried wealth and magic items based on class, power, and wealth level.  11,200 words.  Please note that this is a compact generator; it does everything it says in this description but... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dungeon Bestiary Regular price: $7.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF This is the tome of dragons deep, This is the book of the orcish blade ... Bloodied leer of cavern troll, Canticle of the underworld. Graven by the hand of Fate, Beheld by Balor's crimson eye ... This is the jeweled crown and key, Death chant of the dungeon beast. A major companion work to the well-received CLASSIC DUNGEON DESIGN GUIDE series, this epic bestiary is the great compendium of monsters, dragons, devils, and all the eldritch horrors who haunt the netherworld.  This massive tome is an ideal work for Game Masters conducting pen-and-paper Fantasy Role-Playing Games.  Now, with one huge resource, you can populate your entire mega-dungeon in record time with 79 different random encounter tables, 5,000 different classic encounters! THE OLDSKULL DUNGEON B... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Dungeon Generator Regular price: $3.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Hello all, this supplement features an immense Gygaxian OSR random dungeon generator system, crammed into 83 pages. It’s focused on empowering you to create the sprawling level 1 of any mega-dungeon, or any smaller dungeon set to challenge adventurers of experience levels 1 to 3.  The challenge levels of the monsters, traps, tricks, and treasures all reflect that difficulty level. You can use this book to design any number of dungeons, and if your group is patient you can even use it during play. You will also find some experimental solitaire rules here, if you like to practice the dungeon crawling yourself! This book’s systems interlock with the Classic Dungeon Design Guide series (CDDG1-3) as well as the Book of Dungeon Traps (BDT1) if you want to add more detail to any... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Monster Generator Regular price: $7.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The OLDSKULL MONSTER GENERATOR is the ultimate random monster creation tool, created specifically for both the Fifth and First Editions (5E, 1E) of the world’s first and foremost Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG).  Rules and guidelines are provided for both editions. This colossal page compendium contains the largest, most comprehensive, and most ambitious monster creation system ever devised.  If you feel that your game might be suffering from a lack of variety in monsters and encounters; if you want straightforward help and guidance in refining your own monster concepts; or, if you just want to inject some old school Gygax-inspired, Arnesonian, and Lovecraftian atmosphere into your modern FRPG, then this is the perfect resource for you.  Tap into the chaos, ... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Oldskull Treasure Trove Regular price: $9.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The most ambitious old school treasure system, at your fingertips ... Are you weary of plopping down unimaginative treasures that read “1,000 gold pieces” or something similar?  More detail would be great, but how do you get there?  Do you have enough game and historical information to provide your players with intricate details on acid types, unholy symbols, perfume types, and realistic spices?  Can you provide enough variety to fuel an entire campaign replete with hundreds or thousands of different treasure hoards? The challenge is a daunting one.  How can you keep your players intrigued and exploring the endless intricacies of your world if every lair they visit is a predictable slot machine with only four vending bins for coins, gems, jewelry, and m... CASTLE OLDSKULL - Sword & Sorcery Book I Regular price: $6.99 Bundle price: $0.00 Format: Watermarked PDF After decades of development, Kent David Kelly and Wonderland Imprints are proud to offer you the CASTLE OLDSKULL fantasy role-playing game system.  This first rules volume, OLDSKULL SWORD & SORCERY I:  BASIC PLAYER CHARACTERS features all the rules new players and Game Masters require to orient themselves in the fantasy world.  Here you will find rules, guidelines, and advice for creating newly-emboldened Player Characters in search of adventure in the unknown.  The Castle Oldskull Sword & Sorcery Adventure Game is designed in modular fashion, allowing you to progress and expand your realms with bold new challenges, wrought in a world of limitless imagination.  Additional volumes in this series detail character empowerment, level progression, dungeon adve... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Book of Dungeon Traps Regular price: $6.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Tumbling boulders crushing over powdered bones, Death pits filled with gibbering slime, Strangling vines, enchanted lodestones, lightning bolts, Hateful wraiths Imprisoned in chests of ancient gold, Chained by holy symbol and silver seal ... Every mechanical horror, every thief’s demise, Every fell contraption Lies here, deep in this book of secrets. Would you like to fill your dungeons with traps, but you can never find coherent rules or guidelines to show the way?  Are your players weary of arbitrary deathtraps?  Have you ever searched in vain for a system which codifies spells into magical traps?  Are you bored with the “famous four” — pits, gas, arrows and poisoned needles &m... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Classic Dungeon Design Guide Regular price: $7.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Deep dwarven cities of the underworld, Infested by conquering orcs, Enslaved by demons of skull and pyre ... Black labyrinths of mad demigods, Proving grounds for daring adventurers And graveyards for greedy fools ... Twisting passages, all alike, Where lurking trolls and shadow beasts Guard the deepest riddles of the nether ... If you have ever wanted to know how to quickly and masterfully create your own mega-dungeon for your pen-and-paper Fantasy Role-Playing Game (PNP FRPG) campaigns, this is the perfect book for you.  This Game Master’s guide will show you, step by step, how to take your vague-yet-promising ideas and how to sculpt them with precise and careful design decisions (enhanced, if y... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Classic Dungeon Design Guide II Regular price: $7.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The sequel to the Classic Dungeon Design Guide is here ... Have you read every dungeon design book out there, but you’re still hungry for great ideas to amaze your players?  Would you like to possess the tools to generate countless millions of randomized results for bizarre rooms and shrines, dungeon doors, magical laboratories, skeletons, Lovecraftian abominations, and torture chambers?  Then this is the book for you. This massive tome is the direct sequel to Wonderland Imprints’ Gold Medal Best Seller, CDDG1:  THE CLASSIC DUNGEON DESIGN GUIDE.  Where Book 1 was a basic inspirational tome filled with thousands of ideas, Book II:  Dungeon Mastery Design Tables is an advanced nuts-and-bolts guide that provides you with hundreds of pages of tables wh... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Classic Dungeon Design Guide III Regular price: $7.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Enchanted fountains shadowed by gargoyle sentries, Tricksy nymphs cavorting in crystal pools, Unholy altars, sacred shrines, Undiscovered treasure vaults, Thousands upon thousands of wondrous rooms Filled with treasure, tricks, magic and eldritch horror, All awaiting your heroes’ intrepid discovery … What greater mysteries await far below, For only the most dauntless magi And fearless warlords to ever find?   Continuing the proud tradition of the CLASSIC DUNGEON DESIGN GUIDE series, Book 3:  The Labyrinth Lexicon provides you with a nearly endless array of dungeon room types which you can use to build any size, plan and theme of dungeon you desire.  This is the largest and most ext... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Oldskull Deck of Strangest Things Regular price: $3.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF For all levels, all classes, all who dare. Shake your old school campaign to its foundations with the ultimate magic item …   THE OLDSKULL DECK OF STRANGEST THINGS is a deluxe supplement detailing the hundreds of effects created by a Tarot-inspired minor artifact.  Profusely illustrated throughout with beautiful card motifs, and with printable color card sheets in the back.  100+ pages.   The purposes of this supplement, fully detailing the deck for use in your campaign, are as follows: [1] To make a new tarot deck magic item for old school FRPGs, which surpasses the complexity and quality of all others, while retaining the original Gygaxian spirit of the earliest masterpiece. [2] To clarify generally vague abilities and... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Oldskull Necronomicon I Regular price: $5.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons, even Death may die. (Al Azif, Necronomicon, Scroll 50, fin.)   THE GREATEST NECROMANCER of H. P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, Abdul Alhazred, comes to vivid and haunting life in this compelling first codex from the most fabled and infamous grimoire of black magic that the world has ever known: THE NECRONOMICON. This book is a treasure trove for any Game Master who wants to embrace the old school of Fantasy Role-Playing Games. Herein lie the terrible secrets of Great Cthulhu and his cult, of the sunken city of R’lyeh, of Alhazred’s necromantic incantations, of the Nameless City, of Nyarlathotep, and the horrible cannibalistic Ghuls who stalk the storm-wrought wastelands of Yemen an... CASTLE OLDSKULL - The Pegana Mythos Regular price: $5.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Maidens weaving a spell of clouds Over a ruined city of the spice Sunken beneath the venom sea, Blood-painted cultists Chanting beneath the storm moon, Sacrificing innocents to Mung In the name of immortality …   The world of a thousand wonders which inspired H. P. Lovecraft’s Dreamlands, and the Cthulhu Mythos Comes to vivid life once more In this Swords and Sorcery supplement For any Fantasy Role-Playing Game.   From the peerless works of Lord Dunsany, from my surreptitious campaign notes they come at last:  the secret Gods, Monsters, and Heroes who inspired the very foundation of the World of Castle Oldskull. How was the world created?  Who... FROM THE FIRE - A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Epic Regular price: $4.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF The end of the world. The beginning of destiny. * A proven Amazon Best Seller (#1 in Action & Adventure Fiction, 2012; #1 in Post-Apocalyptic Fiction, 2014; #3 in Dystopian Fiction, 2014; 5-Star UK Best Seler, 2017) * Over 80 5-Star Reviews for the Saga and Episode Novellas * The Entire Acclaimed Series: Episodes I, II, III, IV, V and VI in a Single Volume ON APRIL 4th, 2014, 6 billion and 783 million people died in the blinding white fireballs of the Pan-Global Nuclear Holocaust. Sophie Saint-Germain, wife and scientist and mother of one, was not among them. She lived for a time, and so her words endure. The reclamation of her terrifying story is a miracle in itself. Uncovered during the Shoshone Geyser Basin archaeological excavations of 2316, Sop... HAWK & MOOR - Book 1 - Deluxe Edition - The Dragon Rises Regular price: $7.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF Lake Geneva, 1972.  Gygax.  Arneson.  Come experience the Golden Age ... THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons®, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design.  Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced.  Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Ga... HAWK & MOOR - Book 2 - Deluxe Edition - The Dungeons Deep Regular price: $7.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons®, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design.  Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced.  Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination.   HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know a... HAWK & MOOR - Book 3 - Lands and Worlds Afar Regular price: $5.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design.  Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced.  Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know and love today.... HAWK & MOOR - Book 4 - Of Demons and Fallen Idols Regular price: $4.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design.  Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced.  Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know and love today.... HAWK & MOOR - Book 5 - Age of Glory Regular price: $4.99 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE CREATION of the world’s preeminent Fantasy Role-Playing Game (FRPG), Dungeons & Dragons, is one of the most fascinating tales to be told in all the shared histories of entertainment, play and game design.  Two very different men, David Lance Arneson and Ernest Gary Gygax, undertook an unprecedented collaboration which gifted us — as their shared legacy — with one of the most intriguing games the world has yet experienced.  Their game did not just simulate one isolate corner of reality; it dared to encompass the entirety of all realms of adventure, the consensual playground of the human imagination. HAWK & MOOR tells the story of Dave and Gary, and the many other people whose efforts gave first life to the game we know and love today.... HAWK & MOOR - The Steam Tunnel Incident Regular price: $4.49 Bundle price: $1.99 Format: Watermarked PDF THE MORE SINISTER urban legends concerning the Steam Tunnel Incident run as follows: A young genius, seduced and deluded by a mind-controlling fantasy game, abandoned his Satanic gaming cult because he feared for his life.  He then delved into the netherworld, a labyrinthine “dungeon” of steam tunnels running for miles beneath a sprawling university.  There, under the influence of drugs, occult talismans, evil magic or mere insanity, he mistook fantasy for reality and tried to slay his invoked dragons, demons and devils in real life.  Finally, he became hopelessly lost in the tunnels. Facing a slow and horrible demise in the endless dark, he committed suicide.  Or, he was murdered by a conspiracy of Lucifer-worshipping gamer-cultists who silenced him to... LORDS OF OLDSKULL - Book I - Krampus Regular price: $1.99 Bundle price: $0.99 Format: Watermarked PDF As cav’lier golems march and wheel, In tiny danse of death and holm And arc their blades of mint and bone To tinkling chaunt of glockenspiel;   And from the shadow’s watching wall? Krampus sighing, claimeth all. See his sorrowed eyes abright, Bells a-tinkling in the night;   Sixty-six the bells they are, Shiv’ring silver-bright I see: Bell woven to brimstone, beard, and mane, Regardless of thy slumber feign’d.   From the wintery shadows He comes, and when he sings, none dare keep their most forbidden secrets from his clutches …   Are you looking for something a little different to spice up your old sch...

Total value: $167.21 Special bundle price: $53.72 Savings of: $113.49 (68%)

Price: $167.21 CASTLE OLDSKULL OSR Mega-Bundle 2 [BUNDLE] published first on https://supergalaxyrom.tumblr.com

[distortedfeels]

Had there not been unpublished words, we would not get to see the beauty of what it is like to delve into the exclusives. His traumatizing of that pen scribes wordplay and epiphany, instrumenting a symphony in my mind, avoiding these explosives. Look to thee - webs unlimited and bound, taking down his arch enemies. He is Spiderman with a plot twist, hails hydra and shouts cohesively 'Wakanda Forever' and sprouts with secrets indebted from his artistic tool which is his pen. You see, stories are painted to give each and everyone an overview of what others are going through. It is an infinite war with the minds which once tamed can be finite as it is claimed. However, we rise with scenic, heartfelt tales displaying in landscape view her inked shores which allow me and you to reminisce the hurt, the pain, the memoirs yet romantic like the holy shrine entwined with the roses of gold. Have you heard of her echoed thoughts that are touched with one's heart?

- distortedfeels // @secretsfromhispen challenge

[distortedfeels]

Had there not been unpublished words, we would not get to see the beauty of what it is like to delve into the exclusives. His traumatizing of that pen scribes wordplay and epiphany, instrumenting a symphony in my mind, avoiding these explosives. Look to thee - webs unlimited and bound, taking down his arch enemies. He is Spiderman with a plot twist, hails hydra and shouts cohesively 'Wakanda Forever' and sprouts with secrets indebted from his artistic tool which is his pen. You see, stories are painted to give each and everyone an overview of what others are going through. It is an infinite war with the minds which once tamed can be finite as it is claimed. However, we rise with scenic, heartfelt tales displaying in landscape view her inked shores which allow me and you to reminisce the hurt, the pain, the memoirs, the broken prose yet romantic like the holy shrine entwined with the roses of gold. Her echoed thoughts that are felt with one's heart can somehow resemble through a fallen angel with her tales, where whisperings are reborn from her soul.s orchestra. If you have ever broke her perceptions of reality, do not let the stains of her ink stay as a permanent atrocity. Rather have the aamaal (trust) in your Lord and ask that He may forgive you and start a fresh lover's journal which feels subliminal and nominal, so you may have tranquilised thoughts and virtually see her mind's calligraphy that can be perplexed.

- distortedfeels