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bahablastplz · 4 days

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Make it hurt: Seungmin x Reader x Jeongin

Your best friend is a menace. A stupid, kinky menace that drags you along to a BDSM event with her when your curiosity gets the best of you. What will happen when a strangely attractive man asks you if you want to do your first scene with him and his friend? Content: smut smut smut smut smut Warnings: Talks of BDSM, use of ‘sir,’ traffic light system, dom/sub dynamics (dom Seungmin, dom Jeongin, sub reader), sensory deprivation, sensory play, fingering, choking, spanking (with a paddle), hair pulling, p in v sex, protected sex, edging, slight overstimulation, little bit of praise, little bit of degradation if you squint, lots of aftercare WC: 5900 (this is the longest smut I've ever written byeee)

Your friend is a menace. Well, that is a given. You’ve always known Lily, your best friend and roommate, to be somewhat unhinged. But now, given the circumstances you’re currently in… it was more apparent than usual.

She was involved in the BDSM community. It was something that she had started getting involved in with her boyfriend and so you were privy to hearing about some of her more… intimate experiences. She talked about what it was like being a submissive in a relationship, relinquishing any and all control to that of her dominant, coupled with sensory play, pain play, you name it.

When you expressed some interest in learning more about the BDSM community she was thrilled.

Let’s just say some of your past sexual experiences were… vanilla, for lack of a better term. While you’ve encouraged some of your previous partners to take charge or to be a little bit rougher in the bedroom, they would indulge but they never truly seemed into it. The one time a hookup agreed to choke you, however, you came harder than you ever had in your life.

When you told this to Lily, she told you that you just had to come to an event with her and her boyfriend. You weren’t too sure how you felt about this at first. Wouldn’t you just be third wheeling? She assured you that these BDSM events were a safespace for everybody of all experience levels to enjoy kink and that you would be fine to go off on your own if you needed to.

That’s how you ended up here. Just as you predicted, Lily and her boyfriend disappear the second you enter the venue, leaving you alone. Upon entry, you are given a pink wristband to show others that you’re new to the BDSM community and ‘open to learning more.’ You also pick out pins to display on your shirt, so you choose one that that says ‘submissive,’ and ‘pain slut.’ The latter you had grabbed just because you thought it was funny, but hey, if you’re here to learn more about kink then that’s what you’re going to do.

The event has a lot of different seminars to sit in on as well as vendors that sell a variety of sex toys or items for BDSM. You look at some of the silk ties and ropes they have for bondage and rope play, body-safe wax for temperature play, paddles and floggers for impact play, and even some lubes and sex toys that you have never seen before. You don’t buy anything, but you grab a lot of flyers and giveaway items that you put in a small bag to take home with you.

You also attend a seminar about kink for beginners and what green flags to look for in a dom/sub. Overall it is a very education-filled evening and you find yourself a little intimidated but also a little aroused. You know for sure by the end of the evening that this community is something that you want to continue to explore.

Sitting down at a table by yourself, you let out a loud sigh. You riffle through some of your pamphlets and check your phone to see if Lily texted you. "We're going to set up a scene in one of the play rooms!! Talk to you later! Xoxo.” She sent that text message 15 minutes ago, which means you would probably be stuck here a while longer. You let out a loud sigh again.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” You look up and your heart skips a beat when you see one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

He has shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair, shaggy but perfectly placed as it frames the front of his face. You notice his plump pink lips and sculpted face before you meet his dark eyes that give him an appearance not unlike that of a fox. Beautiful.

You realize that you haven’t responded to the man before you shake the thoughts out of your head and give him a smile.

“Yes! I mean, no no, it’s not taken. Feel free to sit!” You laugh at your own awkwardness and gesture to the chair to your left. Scanning over the man’s frame once again, you notice he’s wearing a denim coat over a nice white dress-shirt. He also has a pin on that says ‘dominant.’ Interesting.

“Are you okay?” He questions, tilting his head to the side inquisitively after sitting down.

“Huh?”

“Oh, I was just curious if you’re okay. I noticed that you were sitting alone and you were sighing, so I just wanted to make sure–”

“Oh! That’s so sweet of you! My friend kind of dragged me along with her when I told her that I was interested but um… yeah, she kind of ditched me as soon as we got here.” You run a hand through your hair and let out a breath that you had been holding. “I mean, I’m having a good time and all! But I just didn’t want my first time here to be alone, you know?”

“I’m sorry your friend ditched you,” he says sympathetically. “If it’s any consolation, it’s my first time here, too!” He holds up his wrist to show you a matching pink wristband. The action makes you smile.

“Are you here alone?” You question. “I’m just curious, you know, if this is something that a lot of beginners usually attend by themselves or if most people come here with a friend.”

“Oh no no,” he laughs. You think that his smile is cute and you can’t help it when you feel yourself warm up and get more comfortable just by his presence. “I’m here with my friend. He is a lot more experienced in being a dom, he’s been involved in the community for a few years and he told me he would show me around,” he explains.

“I see! Are you… Do you like it so far?” You try not to get shy, but to be fair this man is so unbelievably attractive.

“I do! It’s very educational. I can see myself trying to get more involved, hopefully. What about you? You’re not uncomfortable, are you? I know it must be a lot to be here by yourself since your friend left you here.” You think it’s so sweet that this guy is checking in on you so thoroughly.

“Oh, I’m fine!” You say with a big grin. “It’s been so cool so far! I definitely think I want to get more involved too. While it’s a little intimidating… it’s like… it makes me want to try it, you know? I definitely don’t want to go back to plain old vanilla sex after this, I think.” He laughs with you in understanding.

“My name’s Jeongin, by the way,” he says. “You are…”

“Y/N,” you provide.

He repeats your name, committing it to memory. “Listen, I know we’re both new at this, so don’t feel pressured at all… but would you be interested in setting up a scene with me and my friend? His name is Seungmin, he’ll be here in a few minutes if you’d like to meet him. But, he told me he would be there for my first scene, to walk me through it and make sure that everything goes right… And I don’t know if that would make you more comfortable for your first time to also have someone that is experienced… Shit, I don’t even know if you’re interested at all, and it doesn’t even have to happen right away or anything, and, um, he would be better at explaining it, but we could talk about boundaries and–”

“It’s okay, Jeongin,” you say. “I think I’m interested, actually.” He seems to perk up, as if surprised at your words. “Really?”

“Yeah! I think so. I’m a little nervous, admittedly. But… Do you think I could meet your friend first? Maybe if we talk it over a little more, I’ll feel better.”

“Of course!” He smiles, pulling out his phone. “He’ll be here in one minute.”

You don’t know why you’re surprised, but his friend Seungmin is also ridiculously attractive. He has long black hair, slightly shorter than Jeongin’s that falls around chin-length. He has bright eyes and a wide smile, almost innocently so, and he doesn’t strike you right away as someone that is an experienced dom that has been in the community for a while. He’s clear and concise when he speaks, though, setting clear boundaries with a politeness that makes you want to trust him implicitly.

The three of you talk for almost thirty minutes, surprisingly. Seungmin provides you and Jeongin with little kink surveys, which you think is almost endearing, but it helps you determine your sexual compatibility and any hard limits you have for the scene. He also talks you through protection, safewords, and the traffic light system, which you all determine will be your preferred method of communicating any hard or soft limits for the night.

You even spill the fact that you’ve been completely dissatisfied with previous partners, none of them pleasing you sexually and allowing you to completely let go the way you’ve been wanting. They nod along and you feel very comfortable sharing your experiences with them which you think is probably a green flag.

“Am I going to be having sex with the both of you?” You ask. You let out a nervous chuckle with the question, avoiding eye contact slightly but not trying to appear uncomfortable or shy about the topic.

“Do you want to?” Seungmin asks, turning the question back to you. “You need to let us know whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N.”

“I think I want to.”

“Well, consent can be revoked at any point. If you decide you want to now but change your mind during the scene, that’s fine! You just need to communicate with us,” he explains. “Because this is your first scene, you should know that we don’t even have to have sex at all. Not all scenes have to involve sex. There’s plenty of other ways for everyone to have pleasure.” Something about the way he talks like he knows exactly what he’s talking about, so educated on the topic but also cautious to establish boundaries and make the whole process safe is so attractive to you. You hide a blush and look him in the eyes this time.

“I understand that we don’t have to. But… if you both are okay with it, I think I would like sex to be a part of the scene. Definitely with Jeongin,” you say. “But also with you, Seungmin, if you’re comfortable with that.”

“You’re doing a great job using your words!” He praises. This time you don’t conceal your blush. He takes note of that. “I think we’re pretty much set for now. Let us know if you have any questions!”

And with that, you set up a time and a place for the scene and exchange contact information before you all part ways. You find yourself exhilarated that this has just happened, but mostly you’re giddy. You’re going to do a scene. And with everything you talked about and communicated that you’re looking for, you have a feeling that it definitely won’t be a boring sexual experience.

When Lily and her boyfriend finally find you upstairs you’re more than ready to go home. She wants to grill you about everything that happened, but seeing as you’re a little annoyed that she left you to your own devices you decide not to tell her everything right away. You at least wait until you get home to let her know that you actually found a dominant that was interested in setting up a scene with you.

Before she can get the chance to lecture you about being safe, you explain to her about all of the boundaries and safe words that you set. You’re not sure how much detail you want to get into about it, but you at least promise to share your location with her during the scene so she can keep an eye on you for peace of mind.

The scene would take place in one week. Next Saturday.

In the meantime, you communicate somewhat frequently with Jeongin and Seungmin in a shared group chat. Seungmin shares articles for both you and Jeongin to read up on, and occasionally you would ask a few questions.

Saturday comes by faster than you know it.

Y/N: Should I wear anything special?

Seungmin: Innie says to wear something pink. And bring a change of clothes, something comfortable.

Seungmin: Don’t be late.

God, there are butterflies in your stomach. Is that the right terminology for this anxious yet giddy anticipatory feeling building up? You’re not sure, but when you knock on the door to Seungmin’s front door at 6:03 p.m., the feeling rises up again and again.

He leads you to his bedroom, where Jeongin is sitting on the bed. You sit in a gaming chair that accompanies a desk in the corner of his room, turning back and forth.

“Jeongin,” Seungmin says. “Do you remember the checklist?”

“Yeah,” he says to his friend. He turns to you. “How are you feeling today? Any hesitation on your end?”

“Nope,” you reply. “A little nervous, but excited.”

“Great. Remember our safe word?”

“Yeah! Traffic light system. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for ‘God, yes, keep going.’”

“Amazing. So, Seungmin and I are going to go through and show you some of what we had planned for today, just to get you familiar with some of our toys and what not. As we talked about last week, we’re looking to do some pain/impact play, and maybe some sensory play. We’re okay with edging and overstimulation. You were interested in potentially having protected sex with penetration, maybe with both of us. If you feel uncomfortable at any time or want to stop, please let us know. Does that sound good?” You nod your head and smile sweetly.

“Words,” Jeongin and Seungmin both say at the same time. You let out a light chuckle at the action.

“Yes. Yes, that sounds good, thank you,” you answer.

Jeongin shoots Seungmin a look. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nope, you covered it all! You’re off to a great start. I did want to point out that your friend was three minutes late, however, when I explicitly instructed her to be on time. Now, I want you to be in charge of this scene, since it’s your first time, but that would definitely warrant a punishment if it were me.” You blanch at his words. You didn’t think that being late by three minutes would cause an issue but the promise of a punishment has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

“Oh?” Jeongin says, shooting you a sinister grin. “Look at her rubbing her thighs together, she’s already wanting to be touched. I bet she did it on purpose, hmm? Did you come here late on purpose so you could get punished?” He stalks across the room to where you’re sat, tilting your head up to make eye contact with him. His gaze is dark yet firm, and you almost find it unbelievable that this is his first scene. Already you’re finding yourself willing to submit, to follow his every command and to please him.

“No,” you stutter. “Sorry, was an accident.” You don’t break eye contact but your face heats up rapidly.

“Do you remember what you said you wanted to call me tonight? You didn’t forget, right?”

“No… no, sir. Sorry,” you say. The both of you shudder at the term. You can tell it has the desired effect on Jeongin, who grips your chin tighter before letting you go, causing your head to fall down from lack of support.

“On the bed,” he instructs. “Take off your shirt and your pants and wait for Seungmin and I to get our materials ready. If you’re wearing a bra and underwear, keep them on.”

You nod your head at him before standing up then remember to use your words. “Yes, sir.”

“Color?” He asks. His face softens for a second and you let out a shaky breath.

“Green.”

Seungmin reaches to the top of his dresser and pulls out a long box. He walks you through various items, showing you paddles and floggers, restraints, and vibrators and dildos and other various sex toys. It’s reminiscent of the BDSM event you went to the other day, you think, as he explains each item and its purpose. Eventually he pulls out a red silk blindfold and instructs Jeongin to put it on you. You feel your body start to buzz in anticipation, already excited for what is to come as his long, delicate fingers wrap the blindfold around your head.

“Cross your hands and put them above your head. Keep them there or I’ll tie them.”

You let out a breathy sigh. “Yes sir,” you say, and it’s barely a whisper.

“Jeongin, I’m going to let you take the lead here. Let me know if you have any questions,” Seungmin says. It feels like you are waiting forever, and you know your breathing speeds up when you hear someone rustling through the box. When the bed dips next to you you find yourself pressing your thighs together to get some pressure and relieve some of the tension. The feeling of Jeongin’s hands on your thigh startles you, and he kneads the flesh gently, urging you to spread your legs for him. You do so immediately.

Something soft prickles at your skin and your breath hitches. What you can only assume is a feather starts at your chest, barely touching your skin but drawing light lines. You feel hot already from the small actions, breathing when the feather draws circles on your neck. Even more so, you have to stop yourself from pressing your thighs back together when he barely touches your nipples over the fabric of your bralette.

“Oh,” you say. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” Jeongin breathes, the ghost of a smirk evident in his voice. He sounds almost as wrecked as you do and that makes you smile.

You aren’t expecting it when he grazes your clit. You think it’s with his finger, as you can still feel the feather circling your nipple, but the action makes you whimper.

“I’m going to finger this pretty pussy,” he says. “What’s your color?”

“Green,” you answer. “So green.” His fingers slip into the waistband of your panties, lingering for a second and teasing you until you lift your hips, allowing him to remove the fabric from your body.

One finger dips shallowly into your entrance, gathering just a little bit of your wetness.

“You’re soaked,” he comments. “And I’ve barely touched you.” You nod your head at him in agreement, because you know it’s true. You’re unsure if you’ve ever been this aroused in your life.

Using your arousal coating his finger, he works small circles outside of your clit, occasionally grazing it. Each time he does your breath catches in your throat, and if you could see him you would know he has a shit-eating grin on his face, working you up so easily from teasing you.

You barely register when another body dips into the bed next to you, though Seungmin helps raise your body into a sitting position. He grabs your arms and guides them behind your back, leaning you up against him.

“I’m gonna take this off,” he whispers, fingers sliding underneath your bralette. “You did such a good job wearing pink for us, just like we asked. You’ll just do anything we tell you, won’t you? You’ll be a good girl for us and listen to what we say?” He lifts the bralette over your head, discarding it.

You feel his breath on your neck, warm. You nod and tilt your head back, leaning yourself completely into the man.

A hand wraps expertly around your exposed throat. You feel it, finger by finger curling around and pressing into your skin. It’s at this moment that Jeongin decides to thrust a finger into you, hitting deep inside. You let out a cry at both actions, sounding utterly debauched.

“This will be your last reminder to answer us when spoken to,” Seungmin says, fingers wrapping tighter around your throat. “Do you understand?”

“Yes… fuck, yes sir.”

His hand remains unmoving, keeping you in place as Jeongin stimulates you. You notice that he’s not even thrusting his finger, but rhythmically curling it inside you. You try to rock your hips into him to get more stimulation but you're kept in place by the man behind you.

“M close,” you warn. A series of whimpers and moans leave your mouth, sounds that you’re sure your body has never made before. You know you’re babbling at this point, sounding something like, “Close, so close, oh my God, please, please, I’m going to, please–”

And when a hand reaches and pinches a nipple, hard, you cum. Jeongin’s pace never changes as he helps you ride it through, and you think you’ve never had an orgasm last this long. It feels like a solid minute passes as you cry and spasm in their hold, legs shaking but remaining open. As you start to come down, you feel a hand in your hair, soothing you.

You let out a heavy breath as Jeongin finally removes his finger, slumping forward. At the same time the blindfold is removed from your head and you’re exposed to the brightness of the room again, blinking as your vision refocuses. You’re just in time to see Jeongin stick his finger into his mouth, moaning as he licks your release from his appendage.

“Color?” Seungmin asks from behind you.

“Green,” you answer, still trying to catch your breath. “That was intense. I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you admit.

“You did so good,” Jeongin praises. “We’re going to keep going, okay? We gotta give you your punishment for being late.”

“Yes, sir.”

The next thing you see him pull out is a paddle, long and wooden with a rounded end. It looks smooth to the touch but also expensive, as if he invested a good amount of money to pick out one that suited his needs. Not that you would be able to tell the difference between this one and any other paddle, since it was your first time getting spanked in any sense of the manner.

“Bend over for me, ass in the air, okay?”

You do as you're told, burying your face in the sheets as you stick your ass up in the air. Seungmin still sits on the bed, watching.

“Gonna do ten hits, okay baby?” The pet name makes your head spin.

“Okay, sir,” you answer, remembering to use your words.

“Want you to count them for me.” And with that, he hits your ass with an experimental tap of the paddle, just a little force behind it. It stings just a bit but doesn’t necessarily hurt.

“One,” you say.

“You can do it a little harder,” Seungmin encourages.

On the same cheek follows a harder hit, one that most definitely will be red. It’s loud enough to make a distinct clapping sound echo through the room.

“Two.”

“That was better, but you can still do it harder. Don’t be afraid to put some force into it, she can tell you if it’s too much.”

Now to your other cheek comes the hardest hit yet. This one is enough for your breath to hitch in your throat, your voice shaking as you say, “Three.”

“Can I show you?” Seungmin asks, standing. Jeongin nods his head behind you and hands off the paddle to Seungmin, standing to the side. You tilt your head to the side, trying to look and see if you can anticipate the blow, but you’re not fast enough.

Seungmin reels his hand back. This time you can hear the whiff of the paddle in the air a second before it comes, and this hit causes you to cry out. You lurch forward, running away from it slightly. “Like this,” he explains. “She wants it to hurt. If you look close enough, you can see her pretty little cunt clenching. It’s going to be red, and it might bruise a little bit, but she can take it.”

Seungmin delivers a second hit just as hard as the first, and this time you moan. He’s right–you clench around nothing at the action. You didn’t realize just how much the action would turn you on. His hand comes down to soothe where he hit you, the cold from his palm soothing the skin.

“Remember to use your words baby,” he chides. “Are you supposed to be counting?”

“Yes, sir,” you stutter. “Four and five.”

“Normally, I would start over if they forget to count,” Seungmin explains to Jeongin. “But since it’s both of your first times, we can go easy on her today.” He passes the paddle back to Jeongin and stands back, arms crossed and observing.

When Jeongin delivers the next hit it’s with much more precision and force than previously. You let out a much louder moan this time.

“Six,” you breathe.

“You should see her face,” Seungmin says. “She looks pretty fucked out.”

“God, that’s so hot,” Jeongin says softly. You can feel him grab your ass and knead it in your hand and you wince, sensitive from the contact of the paddle against your skin. “You’re soaking, baby, I can see your pretty pussy glistening. So fucking dirty for us. Just a few more, okay?”

“Mhmm, okay sir.” You take the rest of your punishment well and you can tell that you’re red and sore without even looking. You start to slump forward before you feel Jeongin’s hands on your hips, grabbing you to keep you in place.

He slides a finger up and down your entrance, gathering your slick. You’re so wet you can hear it and the sound is filthy on its own. But at the little bit of contact where you’re already pulsing in need, you let out a needy sound.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says. “What’s your color?”

You let out a strangled sound before answering. “M Green.”

You hear him open the condom and you crane your head, trying to get a good look at his length. His cock is long but skinny, red and leaking already from arousal. With one hand bruising your hip he guides himself to you and you can feel him at your entrance, his tip prodding at your hole. Your breath catches in your throat and in response he rubs his cock up and down, teasing your clit.

“Fuckkk, fuck please,” you say, rocking your hips back to try to push him inside of you. When he catches at your entrance you let out a whine, only increasing in volume when he pushes into you at an agonizingly slow pace. He bottoms out and stills, and for a second the only thing you can hear in the room is your breathing. With that same strong grip on his hips he pulls out, leaving just the tip in before he slams back into you. You lurch forward at the contact, not expecting him to be so forceful. He repeats the action, setting a brutal and relentless pace. All you can think is yes, yes, yes, this is exactly what I wanted.

And so when a hand comes up and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulls you back and yanks it hard, you let out a loud sound that you know can only be described as pornographic. He uses his grip to give himself momentum, pulling you on and off of his cock and digging his nails into your hips. You wonder if you’ll have red and purple crescent-shaped indents in your skin tomorrow, and you hope the answer is yes.

Each thrust is hard enough that you let out an “ah, ah, ah,” sound. You no longer worry about sounding dumb, succumbing to the blinding pressure instead.

Steadily, he works you up to your high. You can feel yourself getting close and faster than you ever have before. You’re a babbling incoherent mess once again, trying to warn them of your approaching release. “Close, close, I’m gonna, fuck, please–”

“Edge her on your cock,” Seungmin says, interrupting you. He comes to sit on the bed, face to face with your messy appearance.

Before you can beg or plead any more, Jeongin stills inside you. Your orgasm fizzles and dissipates and you let out a strangled cry in protest. You try to rock back into him, but to no avail. Instead his hand grips tighter in your hair, pulling you up and guiding your face to Seungmin even closer. You try to look away.

Seungmin tilts your head to meet his eyes, thumbing away a tear that you hadn’t realized escaped. “You wanted to see what it’s like to be a sub, let somebody else take over? You wanted to see what it’s like to lose control? This is it, baby.” You whine for a second and he shushes you, pushing two fingers past your lips and into your mouth.

“Keep going,” Seungmin says, still looking at you. You can feel Jeongin start to rock back into you, slower now but you can still feel him pressing deep inside you. It doesn’t take long for him to work you up again, your orgasm approaching much faster than the last. You moan around Seungmin’s fingers, trying to let him know.

“You gonna cum for Innie?” Blinking up at him, you nod with your vision hazy from tears. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and you groan, catching your breath. “Look at me while you cum on his cock.”

And you do. Clenching around him tight, Jeongin works you right through your orgasm. Seungmin’s gaze never leaves yours, though through your immense pleasure you watch his eyes darken. It doesn’t take long before Jeongin finds his own release, spilling into the condom.

When he pulls out and releases his grip from your hair you surge forward, wrapping your arms around Seungmin.

“You’re doing so good,” he coos, a hand coming to graze up and down your spine that leaves shivers on your skin. “What’s your color?”

“G-green.”

“You want to keep going? Think you can take me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re doing so good, so good baby.” He comes undone from your embrace, a hand coming up to soothe your aching scalp for a second. He positions himself behind you, contemplating before flipping you over to face him. You watch your own chest rise and fall from your heavy breathing and you will it to slow, watching the blank expression on his face. He reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt off, revealing his slightly toned figure.

He pushes his jeans down his legs and frees his cock which looks painfully hard. He’s not as long as Jeongin but he’s thicker, and you don’t even have time to think about how he’s going to feel before he’s sliding the condom on and pushing in, slightly stretching you out in the process.

“Shit, sensitive,” you warn.

“You can take it,” he says. “If you need to use your color system you can.” You nod at him in confirmation, wincing from the sensitivity as he starts fucking into you. You can’t help how hard you’re squeezing around him already. When Jeongin settles behind you, cradling your head in his lap, you can’t help but look up at him with wide eyes. Seungmin sets a steady pace, pounding into you deep but not as hard as Jeongin had. After a few consistent thrusts he’s lifting your legs up, pushing them towards your chest.

“Keep these here,” he tells you. With shaky hands you hold yourself in place, presenting yourself for him. This new angle allows him to reach impossibly deeper and you can feel the wet slap of his hips against the back of your thighs with every thrust. “Fuck, so good for us,” he grunts. “Such a perfect little slut for us, yeah? God, Jeongin, touch her clit, I’m already fucking close.”

Jeongin does as instructed, reaching down to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves with expertly skilled hands. His other hand reaches to thumb at your nipple, causing you to close your eyes and tilt your head back.

Your thighs are trembling and before you can even say anything your orgasm is ripped out of you, blinding you with how suddenly it came on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hear as Seungmin snaps his hips into two more times before you feel him twitch, filling up the inside of the condom.

You finally catch your breath as he stills, pulling out of you. He stands up to discard the condom and you almost don’t catch the whine that leaves your mouth.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m right here. Neither of us are going anywhere,” Jeongin says, his words soothing the discomfort that had started to bubble in your chest. You’ve never felt so clingy before after sex but you feel at ease when Jeongin wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you further into his lap.

When Seungmin returns he slides into a pair of sweats and joins you on the bed. They both dote on you for several minutes, comforting you and soothing the areas of your skin that had received more harsh treatment.

Seungmin finally speaks, “That was intense, but you did so good for your first time. Do you feel okay? Is there anything that you didn’t like?”

You shake your head at him. “That was like, everything I’d ever dreamed of, honestly.” They both let out a soft chuckle at that.

“I liked it too,” Jeongin said. “You looked so… God I loved making you look like that. That was a lot of fun.” You had almost forgotten that it was his first scene, too. You weren’t sure what you were expecting going into everything but you were more than happy with the outcome, moreso with the amount of open communication that they had had with you. You smile happily and nuzzle your head against the bed, almost dozing off.

“Hey hey, I’m gonna run you a shower, okay?”

“Don’t want to leave you,” you mumble.

“Innie can join you in the shower and then we can take a small nap if you’d like, yeah? I have to change my sheets and you need to get cleaned up.” You hear the shower running in the other room and barely register it when Jeongin scoops you up and brings you to the shower. He holds you steady as you rock back and forth under the warm stream of water, even going as far as scrubbing your skin and toweling you dry.

When you get under the covers you hum as you feel a warm pair of arms wrap around your frame, pulling you close. Another body lays to your other side, running a hand through your hair.

“I want to do this again,” you say, your brain still in a deep-fried haze. You smile at the sound of laughter.

“Sure, baby. We can talk about it when we wake up.” *** Part 3/4 of the threesome series!! Ahhh this one took me forever to write but I hope y'all enjoy!! (TBH I have absolutely no experience with this kind of thing IRL but I tried my best and I did some research lol) Masterlist Recs Taglist: @lolareadsimagines @elizalabs3/ let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this series

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obsidianstrawberrymilk · 10 months

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A short list of things I would have changed in HoO

It takes place ten ish years after the end of PJO. Percy and Annabeth aren’t a part of the seven but instead appear as cool older mentors to help out the Lost Hero trio. They both have careers and live in New York and go to Sally’s house for dinner every weekend.

Caleo isn’t a thing. In fact, let’s not even mention Calypso. At most we mention she was freed after the last war as idk proof demigods have some power or something.

More than 1 Asian character. Give this one ADHD and dyslexia bc shocker Asian kids can be disabled as well.

For that matter a properly disabled character. I have a deaf OC I would use if I rewrote the series.

Leo is aroace. His arc is about learning that his self worth doesn’t have to be tied to the people around him and his friends love and care about him and he doesn’t need romance to be complete. His flirting is overcompensation bc he doesn’t feel romantic or sexual attraction and is afraid he’ll be alone forever.

Drew and Piper become friends. Drew’s mean girl bullshit is outdated and boring and it would have been a lot cooler to see her icy exterior thaw and her help Piper with her charmspeck (explaining how Piper learned how to use it to begin with) and take on an older sister role

Neither Leo nor Piper become head councilors to their cabins because that’s dumb

Keep the chapter title style from PJO. It was so fun and one of the highlights of the series for me. The relatable nature of PJO in general was kinda lost in HoO and it’s a shame bc there was such a variety of characters for people to identify with there.

Give Reyna a girlfriend or at least a homoerotic friendship that can become an actual relationship in the next series or something

Frank is 14 and he and Hazel aren’t dating, they just have mutual baby crushes on one another.

For that matter what the fuck was ‘Frank is magically not fat due to Mars’s blessing’ bullshit? Frank is a fat character who stays fat but learns to be confident in himself and his body type.

Stop The Adultification of Hazel 2k23. Hazel is 13, she’s the youngest member of the seven and despite her trauma I think that should be obvious. I think emphasizing her relationship with Nico could be fun here - he’s in his 20s so him taking a more ‘that older sibling who toes the line between parent and sibling’ role here could be fun.

Also, I don’t want Hazel to have Hecate’s blessing or whatever. Between her being a magical horsegirl and the daughter of Pluto there’s already a lot of room to expand on her powers that was never used - I think doing more with her cursed jewels and metals powers and her learning the other aspects of her powers, like Shadow Travel, would be fun.

Instead I think having a daughter of Hecate as a part of the Seven would be cool, because we could still have a witchy character with mist manipulation and magic powers.

Give Jason an actual personality, please. Bro’s been a child solider practically since age 2 and has spent his whole life with the weight of other teenagers’ lives on his shoulders as praetor - give him perfectionism issues and anxiety. We’re told that he’s spent his whole life helping others compromise instead of being his own person - show that. Let his arc end with him deciding to try and live a mortal life and find out who he is beyond being a war general.

Show us that Octavian’s a piece of shit, don’t just tell us.

Leo and Piper are the ones who fall into Tartarus. Nothing romantic ever happens but we get heavy emphasis on their friendship and we get to see their grief over Leo’s mom and Piper’s grandfather respectively

Piper’s grandfather has died a few months ago and she cut her hair herself when her dad didn’t want to let her due to that (correct me if I’m wrong but it’s a tradition in Cherokee culture to cut your hair when a loved one dies, correct?), which is why it’s all uneven. A lot of her insecurities stem from going from growing up in rural Oklaholma (not in a reservation bc there aren’t any there) without much money to suddenly being catapulted into a millionaire Hollywood lifestyle and having everyone criticize everything about her and be really racist, all while her Dad drew farther away from both her and her grandfather. Her arc would be reconnecting with both her culture and Dad and learning to find who she is and her self worth again.

They defeat Gaea in a way that isn’t so anticlimactic and fucking stupid

#if anyone else wants to add on feel free to #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #riordan universe #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #percy jackson #annabeth chase #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna avila ramirez arellano #reyna arellano #heroes of olympus critical #hoo criticism #octavian

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brainrot-goes-brrrrrr · 6 months

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School bus graveyard headcanons :D

First sbg post, lets go!! No fastpass spoilers. Formatted on a laptop.

Aiden used to be a really light sleeper. Like if someone were to breathe within his vicinity, he would be up or at least aware that they were there. I think it was because he either had to move around a lot due to his parents and he wasn’t really able to get comfortable in one place, or because he was left alone often and he was aware of his surroundings. It has gotten better after this final move. I do think, though, after the whole deal with Savanna that he sleeps heavier just because he is exhausted

If a store has a sale where it is buy-one-get-one-free, Ben will take full advantage of it. Like the sales at Walmart where you buy a shit ton of single color tank tops or t-shirts for like ten dollars. It would explain his outfit variety, or lack thereof.

I like to think that Logan is stronger than what most people think when they see him. Not like visible muscle, mainly usable muscle that doesn’t really show up. He works with his grandparents like a florist(?), and I think that he does a good chunk of the heavy lifting considering their age. Large bags of dirt, fertilizer, and heavy pots require at least some muscles in order to do it effectively, and if he did it often it is pretty much a work out. [we love Logan here]

Taylor has curly hair, but just straightens it. I have no reasoning for this, I just think it fits her, just trust me on this one. I also think that she always carries a couple hair ties on her wrist or in her bag at all times. Being in the mechanics club she would likely have to have her hair up so that it stays out of her face or so it doesn’t get caught in tools. She also has a couple just in case anyone in the group needs them, mainly for Ashlyn, but I also think Aiden would use them to tie his bangs back or something.

Ashlyn just dies in the summertime because of her hair, mainly due to the heat and the humidity. I used to have long hair, and in the summer it caused me to sweat so much to the point where I felt disgusted whenever it touched me. It gets worse at night too because I’m pretty sure she sleeps with her hair down, at least when she is at home. Don’t get me started on the frizzing, with that much hair it seems like a nightmare.

Tyler is a hallway crush, it is honestly funny. I think it has to do with him being in the baseball club, and the fact that I like to think twins are popular (people just like to talk to them/Taylor is charismatic, and Tyler is considered a “jock”). He knows about it, but he does not get it or do anything about it. He is already too busy with school, his family, and now his friends and the Phantom dimension. Several people have come up to Taylor asking for his number, and she hates it every time.

Both of the twins have several moles/beauty marks on their face, and just in general, however, I like to think they are mirrored. For instance, if Tyler had one right above his right eye brow then Taylor has one above her left. Is this realistic, no clue but I think it is cool.

let me know what you think about these!!

#school bus graveyard #sbg #aiden clarke #ashlyn banner #school bus graveyard webtoon #tyler hernandez #taylor hernandez #ben clarke #logan fields #school bus graveyard headcanons #headcanon

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smolvenger · 7 months

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Greetings bestie 💖🫡

Requesting a Professor Hiddles story (you can choose what subject he's teaching) where he already has this friendly type of dynamic w/ Reader and she's nervous about finals week and he goes "Tell you what, if you ace all your exams I'll take you out to dinner. Anything you want."

…And then (surprise surprise) she wants to skip all that because she just wants him 🫠🫠

I shall leave spice level entirely up to you 😏

And for some ✨inspiration✨…

Hi bestie! Thank you for requesting a Prof! Tom fic! I loved writing it!

Exam Aid (Prof! Tom Hiddleston x Student! Reader)

Summary: When finals have gotten you down, your Shakespeare professor offers some help...and motivation...

Word Count: 5939 (woof)

Warnings: Eventual Smut at the end! NSFW! (Reader is a college student ((if undergrad or graduate that's up to you)) so she's over 18. Dom! Prof Hiddles and Sub! Reader, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, doggy style, doing it in an office. It's super filthy when it gets there, so be warned), mentions of anxiety and insomnia and mental health. My Shakespeare tastes and my IRL English Major college experiences are used and referenced bc it's my indulgent fic too and I do what I want. Some hurt/comfort. Prof Hiddles being both a dom and silly goofy in one fic bc get you a man who can do both.

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss@ijuststareatstuffhereok89@evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over@fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "I'm good at more than just kissing" and ends at "He looked at you with a sweet smile", for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr

It wasn’t the actual week of finals. Oh no, you knew how the drill would go. It was the month or week before. It would be assigned. Every last essay thrown on top of you. And with professors without a touch of reality for students.

“Who the hell has time to read and finish A Tale of Two Cities in two days?!” you thought as you shoved your unabridged copy of Dickens in your bag. Promising yourself to get through as much as you can and then read the Sparknotes summary in the morning. You weren’t immune to it.

Throughout your time in college, you had many a professor. Professors came in varieties. There were creative writing professors who ranged from tiny women who would assign short stories that made no sense to blonde men with glasses and toothy grins who loved it when their male classmates wrote exploitative abuse. Mythology professors with Greek accents and tans. Then there were the mixed bag of literature professors.

The previous professor of the literature survey for Shakespeare also taught the American Literature Survey course. He was Dr. Rutledge. He wasn’t from this year, or even this reality. Either a wise old sage or a kooky scientist from the movie. He had long, thin grey hair, and wore bow ties with black glasses and thick tweed jackets. He smiled and would speak for hours in a tone half sarcastic, half serious. You knew he would go back home and cozy up with a whole copy of Moby Dick next to a fireplace as he sipped on tea or even scotch if he was feeling adventurous. When he brought up sex and seduction with the Scarlet Letter it was the equivalent of hearing a nun confess her last orgy.

So when you registered this year for the Shakespeare course, that was the sight you were expecting.

Since the first day in walked someone different. He may have been wearing a suit, but he definitely was not Dr. Rutledge.

Everyone was gossiping and chattering and sipping on their iced coffees when they fell silent. Every single back stood up straighter at the sight of him. Young, tall, virile. Long, curly reddish blonde hair. A goatee and glasses to show his maturity. Sharp suits that framed every inch of his lean but fit body. Eyes and cheekbones to die for. A jaw so straight it made the men taking the class question if they were.

No introduction of “hi, I’m-” No icebreaker games. He only stepped forward, to his podium. Held onto it, everyone leaned forward. He had all of you in the palm of his hand. Then, with his clear, bright baritone voice, he spoke-

“Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this sun of York…”

His voice…something about it. So…rich…Goddammit, he picked that one, the opening speech of Richard the Third. If he picked Romeo’s balcony declaration or something like that, you would be in even more danger of falling onto the floor in a horny heap of suppressed yearning. But no…it was Richard the Third’s monolgoue. Of all the characters he was playing, of all the characters in the Shakespeare canon you could thirst after, it was fucking Richard the Third. Definitely not known as a hunk or even a likable person according to canon.

But the way he said it- threatening, villainous even. He leaned in and confessed his true feelings about the royal family and his plot to destroy them and rule over them. You could already feel something stirring inside you. And it was eight am in the morning.

As he finished the monologue, speaking it so naturally it was as if it were his own words, the class burst into applause.

With a casual bow, brushing his curly blonde-red hair out of his face, he introduced himself.

“Hello class- good morning. I’m your professor- Professor Hiddleston, and I will make this as fun and engaging as a morning class on Shakespeare can be.”

From then on, you enjoyed the class. You tackled it on- after all, you wanted to have some fun. You loved Shakespeare. But Professor Thomas Hiddleston…was a bonus. Thank the lord he wore suits. And if not suits, white shirts with the sleeves rolled up. He might as well as taken it off for you.

You went through various sonnets. Then explored the poetry- Aphrodite and Lucretia. Then the plays. Even plays that the undergrads thought the most dull he made intriguing. He made everything clear with Shakespeare’s life too himself- how the Bard lost a son named Hamlet. How Shakespeare was accustomed to the great courts and low brothels Prince Hal tasted both of.

When theatres did productions or there was the odd movie adaptation in theatres, everyone went to go see it. Then he had a showing of lesser-known film adaptations. Showing how Orson Welles framed the shot of Falstaff to make the large knight seem even larger. The Bollywood Othello where at long, long last Emilia survived and she was the one to kill Iago, much to the class’s cheering.

“Are there any other movies we should watch?” he asked.

One kid shot up and suggested Shakespeare in Love. He raised an eyebrow.

“ It was not Shakespeare’s invention to have the lovers die. Romeo and Juliet was a a known story in Elizabethan era England and everyone knew back then that the lovers died. It’s like someone just suggesting that Superman comes from another planet- we all know he does. Not because of him having an illicit affair as his poor wife was left to raise their surviving children far off and alone!”

“What about Anonymous!?” cried one kid, trying to be cool.

He let out a deep, ragged sigh.

“There is more than enough evidence to suggest Shakespeare wrote the plays. Every criticism says he can’t write it because he was uneducated. However, if you look, there are hysterical inaccuracies in his geography And no one questions the authorship of Maya Angelou because of her lack of formal education! Just because he was not a nobleman, does not mean he was not aware of things as you are! Every Anti-Stratfordian argument boils down to classicism.”

It was the best class you took. Having him teach definitely helped. And he would invite people for coffee talks and of course, you would bolt to join. Yet you enjoyed it- seeing him so relaxed. Warm in his coat as everyone circled around to talk about plays they knew of but hadn’t read in this class.

“Well- all of us went through our high schools. We all read Romeo and Juliet- what do you think?” he questioned them one autumnal day.

“They’re just brats! Ugh!” one guy snarled out.

That you couldn’t take. You set down your drink, glaring at him.

“They’re not!” you cried out passionately.

Eyes turned forward to you. You wished youcould have slapped him, but you stopped.

“Well, Y/N…why do you think that? Why are they not brats?” the professor asked.

“I think…the plays aren’t meant to be realistic. Of course, they fall in love immediately- so do Rosamund and Orlando but no one calls them brats! It’s not Romeo and Juliet who get everyone killed! It’s not their love that hurts anyone- it’s just the feud and Paris l thinking he is entitled to Juliet’s body after her supposed death! No one knows about them- only they, the nurse, and the priest know about it! They’re innocent! Juliet calls Romeo her ‘friend!” Her one and only friend! That’s how alone she is without him! They are just innocent victims of a greater scheme. Hamlet and Othello fall prey to their own flaws- but Romeo and Juliet are just two young kids caught in the crossfire!”

You didn’t realize how passionate you were. You felt your face get hot with embarrassment as the class gaped at you. But the Professor was nodding his head. He gave you a small smile as you sat down.

“That was…very good. Next time, use the text and a few sources, and you have yourself a good essay, Y/N,” Professor Hiddleston said.

You liked how he challenged you. He would only want you to do better. He wouldn’t blow smoke up your ass, but he would support you. You would ask after each other. He told you a bit about his life- about how much there was to grade. How he got the job. Little things- but little things only added up to how much you liked him. Even…even…no, you couldn’t you would never say it aloud. But your bedtime fantasies…you were more than mere friends…but that was only for fantasies.

You tried to let those regular Shakespeare classes comfort you. But finals were taking a toll on your sleep, and your health. You were so wound up and stressed, trying to read and perfect essays that you had trouble going to bed. Your brain kept churning- unable to think of anything else but your work. You couldn’t realx- you worked so hard to get into this school, this degree. If you didn’t pass then…you would be a failure and all that work to go to this school would be for nothing.

At least after a sleepless night, you had something to look forward to- to distract yourself. But even lately in those classes, you curled into yourself. The heaviness of your exhaustion and the jolt of your anxiety over finals in an unending cycle of misery. You were so…tired…and done…and drained…you knew it would pass with time…

After class, as everyone filed out, Professor Hiddleston walked over to where you slowly gathered your things. He held out a hand to you.

“What is it, Y/N? You’re usually smiling and happy here. But you seem very grave lately…has something happened?”

You shook your head.

“Not really just…finals…I want to do well. I can’t get C’s- I want to do them perfectly! I want to! I want this degree! Now I…I’m so scared of failing…I wanted this school so much, now I…I…” you began to mutter.

You felt tears wriggling out of your eyes, and your breath shook as you uselessly tried to hold them back. He handed you tissues from his coat pocket. You felt like a trashbag- crying in front of this fucking Greek God. But he looked at you kindly. You wiped your eyes. Snot threatened to release from crying and you blew your nose. Ugh, he would think you were especially gross after that. But his gentle smile did not change. You wrapped up the tissues and tossed them aside- then he handed you the little plastic package.

“Is it mansplaining if I give you some advice?” he asked.

“Oh, no…it’s not…” you said.

“Break your studies apart, Y/N. Ten little minutes at a time. A break. Then ten more. If you take time to focus, it will help you. Or if you make it fun and play music or make little drawings, then you have a picture as well…I know it means a lot…but if you rest, you will recover…and you must think smart, not hard,” he advised.

“Okay…” you nodded.

“Y/N, there are counselors here…they will help you and you don’t have to pay anything. They; 've helped me, and so many others, they should help you…” he suggested. He got out pamphlets from a corner of his desk to give to you.

“I’ll see one…Why are you so kind to me?” you asked impulsively, looking up.

He put his hands in his pockets, glancing down, and then back up.

“If I may be frank, you remind me so much of myself when I was a student. I had a thesis I had to write on Shakespeare’s problem plays…and it consumed me. I wish someone had given me that advice at that time-I only want you to suffer a little less. Don’t be so hard on yourself- like I was on me…”

You nodded up at him, adjusting the straps of your bag and gathering your things in your arms.

“And I’ll..I’ll make it fun- I’ll think of a reward for after…” you said.

He placed his hands in front of him, his lips tightening, and then in a rushed exhale, he spoke.

“Y/N…how would you…you…you like dinner? After finals?”

You perked your head up. Was this real? You blinked at him, saying nothing.

“Y/N…make me a bet…Go to counseling, break apart your studying, get through your finals, and do as well as you can…and I will take you out to dinner, how does that sound?” he asked.

You smiled at him, your heart beating fast. But yet…you were touched. You put a hand over your chest and released an exhale.

“Professor that…that sounds wonderful…” you answered.

“Ah, excellent. Now- is that a deal?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

You gave him a smile and a small laugh.

“It’s a deal,” you replied.

You managed to get a counseling session scheduled for tomorrow. You went inside, sat, met the kind therapist, and smiled as you vented and cried out your feelings. When you went back to where you lived and spent your emotions, you crashed onto the bed. It was the best nap you had ever taken.

You followed his advice. You broke down studying or writing essays and researching. You took more breaks. You had made flashcards with doodles for the tests and were catching on quickly. Your research was more fruitful and your essays were getting better in your eyes. You found you slept a bit better at night.

Each day as you sat in at 8 am, the Professor would smile at you and nod. You felt more like yourself again despite the looming deadlines. And they didn’t seem like a matter of life or death anymore.

Everyone knows the week before finals are hell. To study and work so much with no time off from usual classes. But… you would still miss that 8 a.m. Shakespeare survey- and the handsome professor in his suits.

“Y/N, don’t be scared- you will be phenomenal,” He gave you a wink that turned you into jelly.

Damn him. To think you would have dinner with him. You turned around to peek at him erasing the markerboard and glimpsing his curved bum, how his hair curled at the back, and his broad back.

Yeah, now that was motivation to do well.

You studied and wrote with enthusiasm. You completed it all in due time. The essays were to your satisfaction. When you settled at night, you cuddled his pillow. Remembering his smell- be it his shampoo or cologne, the mild, citrus scent. Fantasizing about him. Of dancing slowly at a formal event with you in an evening gown. Feeling his hand on your back and his head lowering down to touch your forehead. Of sharing ice cream. Being a damsel in distress for him to rescue. Then you thought of his body…. And the images changed to something naughtier. Wearing short skirts and showing up to his class. And him noticing. And lifting it up…

You conked right to sleep.

Finals week began. The entire campus knew it was stressful and went ridiculously out of their way to cheer up the students. But it was a lot of fun, you had to admit. Having dogs on campus to pet. Discounts on coffee. That Monday morning the cafeteria was packed with the free breakfast they offered. Once you brave the long lines for free food, you headed out to your first final.

Professors, to your amusement, dotted around the campus. If they didn’t have a class to be in, they were handing little care packages while dressed in silly costumes. The sight amused you and made you smile.

Then walking up, you turned to the right and jumped at the sight with a happy, surprised gasp that became laughter. Professor Hiddleston himself wore a light, frilly tutu made for girls a quarter of his age over his pants, little costume fairy wings over his shirt, and had a headband with little stars on top like ears.

He turned towards you and his face turned bright pink.

“Professor Hiddleston! What is this?!” you asked.

He opened up his arms to present his silly costume.

“We’re doing our anti-stress events! I am here to provide you with help with your stress!” he announced theatrically.

You put your hands akimbo and surveyed his costume up and down. If the class knew, they would lose it.

“And you’re doing it?!” you asked.

“Why not! I’m not a stick in the mud all the time! I can have fun!”

You laughed again.

“I should take a picture and send you to the group chat of our class!”

“I don’t see why not!”

He posed as you took a picture.

“And how are you feeling?”

“I feel better! Much better now- I feel like I’m ready…”

“Good! It will be done soon! A bit at a time!”

He handed over a stress-free care package. Exchanging smiles, you continued by with a lighter step in your shoes.

You went to every test outside of the pre-written essay. You knew what to do as you wrote short essays for the tests. You didn’t completely panic and wrote them as well as you could. When it came to every exam, you felt you knew and understood the material. The week flew by.

Sure enough, on that Friday, with shaking hands and a turning stomach, you looked up your grades. Taking in a breath right when the clock hit noon, you tapped a shaking finger on the mouse. The link buffered on your computer to view them. Then it lit up with revelation.

You passed them. You passed them all. In fact, you did very well.

Your heart was racing but—you realized…you didn’t have his number. Only his email address. With the still nervous feeling…you emailed him, your professor.

“Hello Professor,

My grades were announced- and they’re all spectacular. I passed all of them. So…you made that promise…are you available for dinner?”

You sent it off. You could only ruminate for five minutes- his response was quick.

“Of course, dear Y/N…

Here’s my number below… Meet me in my office. The parking lot isn’t far from it.”

You managed to text him immediately. You were giggling and pacing your room like a high schooler as your phone buzzed with his responses. You re-read them as you paced about with your phone in your face. The high of your crush floating you into the clouds. You were going to go to a nice restaurant- one wasn’t finalized yet, but something nice. And that meant you had to look the part!

You were so excited. You made sure your makeup was how you liked and that your hair looked clean. You put on a part dress-one with a shorter skirt. It was too perfect not to. It was cut only a little low to show some mild cleavage. The collar was wide enough so that it showed your collarbones. It was nice, but flirtatious and romantic. It hugged you in a perfect fit while making you feel amazing and sexy.

Sure enough, you went over to his office. The place was abandoned. All offices and buildings on the Friday of the Finals are in the early evening. You walked over and knocked on the door.

He opened the door and your heart almost stopped.

He was lovely. In his suit. His curls and that slutty goatee combed. Smelling fresh and clean. He still was in his blue suit- bringing out the blue in his eyes. Loving, beautiful.

“Ah, Y/N- please, come in,” he welcomed.

You followed suit. He closed the door. There was a second where you just looked at each other. Despite his goatee, you saw him biting his lip.

“Now, how about that dinner, Y/N…” he offered. “There’s La Gardeniera-suitable. A nice place for a special occasion as this…”

You gave him a shrug.

“I don’t care…anywhere…” you replied.

“Anywhere? ” he asked.

He put his hands in his pocket and looked at you. It was a simple office- white and brown as many are. There was a bright window, the blinds turned over, as the setting sun’s rays fell over it. There was a small bust of Shakespeare and a pitcher with cups of water. His desk had a neat stack of papers, and annotated books all over it. Cozy and comfortable- like how he made you.

“I just…I want to be with you…I don’t mind. Take me to a McDonalds and I won’t care…” you went on.

“Y/N…I…me?” he asked.

“Yes, you! We don’t even have to eat or…to, uh…I just…” the words were failing you and you felt your heart pick up. You looked down at the floors and then back up at him.

“You want to…to be with me…” he walked forward curiously. But you did not retreat. Did not back away. You only met him in his blue eyes, welcoming him.

“Y/N…are you sure?” he asked.

He took a step closer. He was right before you. And you did not retreat. You met his gaze. So close. The tension between you.

“Professor Hiddleston, I am sure…I just want to be with you…anywhere…you just…make me happy…” you finally confessed.

“You make me happy too…” he murmured

He leaned forward, seeking permission. You gave a shaky nod.

Then he kissed you.

Something in you released. So long it was boxed up- now wild and free. He immediately took his hands and ran them up and down you and you held onto him in the kiss. Feeling him as he deepened it with the wet sound of lips. Grabbing onto each other, releasing what had been held for so long. He released and then kissed you-again, then again. Like he was drowning and you were air.

“Mphm- what-what were the grades?” he asked before kissing again.

You caught your breath and took a break still close to his lips.

“Passed them. Flying colors,” you reported.

He kissed you again, moaning into it. Then he broke it again.

“Well now…my little student…doing so well…” he rasped.

You grabbed him and heart racing you felt him kiss you. His facial hair scratched against you. He kissed you back. He backed you up.

“You’ve been…good…” he breathed, pressing you there into it. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders.

“Mphm- this feels…feels so nice…you’re a good kisser,” you whispered.

“I’m good at more than just kissing, my dear-”

He held you, pulling you close. He backed you to the door-holding you against him. He then reached a hand and turned over the lock. It was sealed with a click. His hands then returned to you. He cupped your cheeks, then it slid down your neck, and your chest, and then settled on your wasit.

“I’ve…I’ve…God, I’ve wanted you so much…I…I don’t know if I…think I can…hold back…my dear, I-I-if you’re not…not ready, I’ll-”

“I don’t want to leave yet- let’s wait for dinner-take me. Fuck me here, now,” you begged.

You didn’t need to say any more than that. ou shuddered. He found your skirt and touched your leg, lifting it up. Feeling your skin, cold from exposure.

“All this…is all for me now…”

His hand reached over your leg. His long fingers possessively gripped each bit of flesh. Enjoying it- feeling you for the first time. Treasuring you and making his mark- you were his and his alone. He wrapped an arm around you and lifted you up onto that door. You let out a sound He then took your leg and guided it to wrap around his waist, holding onto him. You were so dripping wet you could feel his pants brushing your soaked panties. He held you easily-so, so easily. Just muscle and wall holding you and keeping you in place. He managed to lift you up- keeping you up with how pressed he was to you. How warm. Keeping him on you.

Your lips crashed again. You kept touching him. One hand finally touching his hair- his beautiful, long curls. The other kissing into him. In his suit, he began to ground against you now that you had nowhere to go away- not that you would leave. He kissed you with tongue and fire. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back, wet noises and messy, desperate need.

“Tom…Tom, I-” you murmured.

He touched your chin, shushing you.

“We’re still in my office, my dear. And you will call me Professor,” he said.

He reached a hand down- feeling hte seat of your soaked panties. Smiling from teh effect already.

“Yes…yes, I will…” you breathed out.

“Now- my little angel. She did so well…and she comes to me, so needy…so desperate-first for her finals and now for my cock-”

You held onto him, touching his tie. Pulling him up. You felt his erection stretching through his pants. The hooded eyes and soft voice, his hot breath. You gave him a smile- eager to have him.

“I’m going to rip your clothes off and fuck you senselessly- and I want you- I never heard a thank you- I want to hear your gratitude for how I take care of you in every way…how does that sound? Too much for you?”

“It sounds wonderful for me-Professor,” you purred in response.

He wrapped an arm to help you up and carried you- legs around his waist.

. He then backed you over to his desk. He kept one by you- so close, so close. He took a hand and shoved aside the books and papers. It didn’t matter- now there was you.

He pulled up your skirt. Desperately trying to find the zipper. Almost shaking in his long fingers. His erection seeping through his pants- he was so pent up.

“All that time. Wanting you. Feeling you near. Do you know how many nights I had to jerk off to imagine this- you! Seeing you- feeling you right there- my little beauty, angel, and siren at once.”

He shoved your dress off and down. Now in your bra and underwear. His hands went to under your straps- feeling them already- his bare flesh on your bare flesh. You were backed there.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you what?” he asked darkly.

“Th-thank you, Professor.”

He kissed you again. You were his little pet, his toy, his plaything. And you would please him- You held onto his shoulders. Grinding more into his body, He was still. Yet you heard his breaths, catching in his chest. He still remained clothed.

Then in a rush, he gripped your bra.

“You won't need these- not with me.”

With a strength that made you gasp, He ripped your bra in half. He breasted so fast, panting like a beast. Looking down at your breasts. Both large hands fondled them, moving them around.

“Th-Thank you, Professor,” you whispered.

“But there’s one thing- one thing keeping me- from what I need” he growled.

He reached down, and in a second, he ripped your panties apart again in half. You gasped at the feeling. The cloth in two- uselessly falling apart.

“No bra- no panties when I see you -easier access- do you understand…I have a need for you, do you get it-”

“Yes- yes, sir.”

“Close- but not it. You forgot. And you’ll be punished.”

He turned you around, so your bare ass was shown. He immediately spanked you hard- it clapped around you. You let out a shout.

“It’s thank you-Professor.”

“Thank you Professor!” you cried out, feeling the sting.

“And you will get it right!”

He spanked you again, harder. The momentum made you move against the desk, feeling your ass move with it. And feeling his greedy eyes all over your exposed skin.

“Th-Thank you, Professor!” you cried.

He pulled you back up but kept your back to his chest. He kissed your cheek, fondling you from behind, whispering in your ear.

“If you don’t want another punishment-Tell me what I am-”

“You-you’re my-my-”

The words failed you. He leaned you down again and spanked you.

“You’re my professor!”

He spanked you again.

“Say it again- and say thank you-”

“Yes- yes- thank you, Professor…”

He grazed over you. Feeling you. You were catching your breath. Dripping so hard. He put his hands against your inner legs.

“The more I do this- the more I see you, the more I’m with you, the more you- you torture me. I can’t stand it- I-I have to have you, Y/N- I have to, I have to-do you- do you want-”

You lightly turned your head over to see him and could have gasped.

He unzipped his pants and lowered them. Already his cock was large and twitching. It leaked so much, that his precum made you shiver. It drizzled down and made a path down his leg. You clutched onto the desk, smiling and bracing yourself.

“Yes- take me- take me on your desk, Professor…”

He smiled, and then his hand made you bend over it again. ‘

“Spread. Your. Legs.”

You were such a horny querying mess, he touched your legs so that they spread for him. Then finally, you felt him at your entrance, and inside.

You let out a long groan- and so did he. As he got in - inch by inch.

“Yes- yes all-ah!” you cried out as he got all of himself in you.

He eased you in at first. Your legs again over. He gave a few gentle, experimental thrusts. It was slow, even sloppy. Each intrusion, poking you inside. You were making an appreciative groan. You ground your hips further against him. The room was hot and smelled thick with sex.

“There…you can take…take all your professor's cock, can you?” he growled.

“Yes-yes I can..”

He then made a sharp thrust inside and you cried out.

“Oh!”

He then experimented- hips rolling towards your ass. You let out sounds like you never heard yourself make. He then had a hand to keep you down. To keep you down And then he began to pick up. Slamming into you. Keeping you still, close, on him.

“Nrg-nrgh- yes-there-fuck-there’s my-myfuck- good litlte student-nrgh-want to please me- hrng-begging-begging to-shit-yes-yes-darling-begging for me-”

You were moaning into it. Your body shakes forward and back from his thrusts. You felt yourself spiraling. Then he slowed. He leaned down and whispered into your ear. The pleasure was at a standstill, you caught your breath as you heard his hot voice right beside you.

“You have another order- cum only when I’m about to-cum when I tell you- yes?” he demanded

“Yes!”

“Yes, are you grateful!” He moved his hands to feel your arms.

“I am- th-tahnk you, Pr-Professor.”

He went back up and began to thrust again. Slow- then medium. You let out those pornographic sounds out as he did.

“Fuck- what you do to me, darling,” he breathed out.

He let out another gasp, his voice itching up in a groan and then back down. Then he slammed into you, letting out a loud voice.

“Who is going to let you cum? Who lets you cum when you’re a good girl?” he rasped.

“My-my- fuck-professor will- will let me-cum-yes!

“Not yet- not yet-mine is-if-fuck, it’s building.-”

He spread your legs wide and entered you. Then he grabbed your hips. He began to pound into you. The desk shaking- the wall quivering. Slamming against that wall with a thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud. He whimpered your name. You clung onto it, your knuckles popping out of you.

“Yes-Yes you are-beautiful little student- you are-g-grateful- fuck.-tight-so tight- shit-”

He was so deep, just rutting into you. He was an animal. Pure fucking you into the desk You felt the itch of his suit- the deepness of it. The papers scrambling away- scratching you. The pure ecstasy of it.

“And” thrust “tell me-” thrust “tell me this”- thrust “darling-”

He laced a hand, it reached your folds. You let out a whimper. He dug around- two fingers in-already feeling you. God- you weren’t going to last. He wasn’t going to like it, but you weren’t going to last. You let out a whimper as you felt him inside you.

“What” thrust “ is it” thrust”- “what is it- good” thrust “good girls do- ”thrust

“They-they-they get to-to-to come, Professor-”

“Yes! Yes-you're at my-my limit-gods-gods- what you do to me-You’ve been good-so good- I can’t-I can’t-so cum, darling-”

He strummed you. And you let out another intense gasp. He was strumming you. His fingers making you more open, his cock in, out, in out. You felt it build- he played with your clit so much. Trying the right place, You felt it rise, but not there. And he kept thrusting. A frustration in his rasp.

“Yes- dammit- why won’t you now? Why won’t-won’t you cum?! Cum, dammit- cum- darling- fuck, fuck- god- yes, gods, I’m there…I’m getting there, cum, dammit- why won’t you cum…”

With a new fury, he pounded against you into the desk- the filthiest, most intense thing you felt. The pleasure building up you, going up, up about to be out of control.

“I’m- I’m going to-I’m going to-I’m going to cum, professor I-I-I”

It would spiral up, yes, but you had yet to reach it. You ground your hips further, moving from his thrusts, as his fingers were there- finding you at the still of your high and just needing your brink.

“Yes- God, yes-cum, darling-I order you, your professor orders you-Yes- yes, cum, girl, dammit- do it, cum, darling- fuck, I’m about to- do it- CUM!” he deamnded like a yell.

With a last shout you cried- “PROFESSOR!” and you came.

Spiraling down from the pleasure. It broke into chills over you-your voice left you and yet your heart was racing. You could feel him gushing into you and yet you could also feel the cum from your own body between your legs, on his fingers. He panted. He then moved you over. You saw his hair wild and arrayed. You moved it out of his face.

He looked at you with a sweet smile then took your hand and kissed it. He sat you down on a chair and took off his jacket- putting it over you like a cape. Then he went over and got you a glass of water from the pitcher.

His voice had softened, he kept touching your face, checking for any accidental bruises or marks.

“How are you? Are you…are you alright, Y/N? I didn’t go too…too-”

“You were perfect- it was perfect,” you replied with a smile. The water wasn’t super cold- but it was fresh.

He let out a sigh of relief. He then cupped your cheek.

“You should see yourself how I see you. You’re glowing. Absolutely glowing-I had only hoped you were…were happy with it…”

He looked down at the ruined bra and panties.

“I’ll buy you another…” he muttered in apology.

“Oh- an orgasm and dinner and new bra and panties? You spoil me rotten already!” you teased.

He gave you a kiss on the forehead and then he helped you back to dressing.

“Here-we could…go back to my place and order something. At this rate, it might get late. I’m not that good of a cook-I was hoping a restaurant would impress you. I hope you don’t mind…”

“How could I, Professor?” you added, taking your hand in his.

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gattnk · 3 months

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For every shadow there's a light source. For Malachia, there's Reina.

The superior villain pair of the show and the highlight of the first season, everyone! I would've kept them secret for a bit longer but my darling @angelsfriendsass did one of their famous crossover pieces showcasing my (until now) server-exclusive Reina so... I guess my hands are tied :P Here's how the magic happened:

The first thing I did when I set myself to revamp the Angel's Friends plot, was work on Reina and Malachia's role in the story. They're the driving force behind the plot in both the series and the comic, which meant it was crucial to determine what their story would be this time around: what would I keep, what would I change, and what would be tossed out entirely.

I looked into Igor Chimisso's work for Malachia and Reina to better understand his design work (he was a lead character designer for the series). I also looked into their theme songs for inspiration. My research brought me to four key words: light, shadows, opposites, and neutrality. Reina would be searing light, and Malachia would be creeping shadows. The "opposites" and "neutrality" concepts would tie them together and unify their designs.

I love the idea of protagonists seeing themselves mirrored by their antagonists in some way. Reina used to be an angel in the show and Malachia used to be a devil in the comics, so I cemented this into my own canon; they would mirror Raf and Sulfus quite naturally this way.

Malachia's new personality and role as a "creeping shadow" made me choose a variety of greys for him. Being a former devil, his focus on ambiguity and "neutrality" would fit well with him. Reina instead has more polarizing tones, dealing in extremes like the "searing light" she embodies: being a former angel, her line of thought would be more black and white, and this would be reflected in her dress with "opposite" hues.

You can't have a villain duo without complementary concepts, and what better way to represent complementary concepts than with complementary colors? I gave Reina yellow eyes and Malachia purple ones, and included "hints" of each other by adding shades of these colors on their counterpart.

Malachia has ochre accents, a yellowed shirt and bronze skin, very straightforward. Reina has dark magenta accents and her iconic blue hair to tie her to his counterpart. I considered white hair like her young self in the series at first, but it clashed with the dress; I took a page from her adult design and kept her silver bangs to frame her face instead.

Reina's shattered halo pieces are arranged over her head like a crown, a tongue-in-cheek reference to her name ("queen" in spanish) and her position of leadership in Limbo. Malachia instead used his shattered horns to fashion himself a diapason, like the one in the comics. The function of this tool is very different in my rewrite, but I'll keep the specifics to myself for now ;P

Also, I wasn't entirely sure where to include this, but remember how angels are tied to circles and devils to triangles? Reina, Malachia and other neutrals will be tied to a half circle on top of a triangle, kinda like a diamond with a round top. See how many of those you can spot around!

It'll be a long time before they show up in my fic proper, but I still encourage you to keep your eyes open just in case while you read I'll Fly With You. After all, Raf and Sulfus aren't particularly careful or subtle, so who knows what's lurking around the Golden School these days...

#my art tag #angel's friends #angels friends #IFWY #character redesign #reina #malachia

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studentofetherium · 3 months

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okay so my thoughts on the Off and Monster Seasons thing

it's interesting that they're announcing these together as one block, even going so far as sharing a title. it makes me curious how it's going to be adapted, because there's definitely enough material in Off Season for a two cour adaptation, and even more in Monster Season. the PV they released is focused entirely on the Off Season cast, so it's probably just going to be multiple seasons, but i wouldn't be surprised if there was something weird going on. still think it would be funny if they went for the Danganronpa 3 chaos option

the announcement video on youtube was going through all of Monogatari's anime, but interestingly, it had Hana in the novel order, but later kept Koyomi in the anime order

re-use of the old soundtrack. not sure if that's because they got Satoru Kosaki back (he would've been around to be working on the new soundtrack for Kizu, so it's possible) or if it was just because it was recognizable. i think Kosaki coming back is more likely than Kei Haneoka, since he's been busy ever since Monogatari ended

now let's talk about the poster

once again, i find it remarkable that the name is "Off and Monster Season". no other season was formatted like this, which really makes me curious why

2024! we don't have to wait long for this. if i had to guess, since i'm not seeing a more specific date, it'll air in the fall

the text on the side of the poster reads "Monogatari series restart". they're making a point of the hiatus the series has had since 2018/2019

the actual poster: in order, we see Nadeko, Tsukihi, Mayoi, Suruga, and Yotsugi

Nadeko makes sense. promising tease for Nademonogatari, but the notebook also ties a bit into Tsukihi Undo. the new short hair design is great and i'm really excited to see more of it

next to her we have Tsukihi, and again, Tsukihi Undo. i really like her new design! i always liked her school uniform, but this new hairstyle really compliments it. looking forward to her becoming a magical girl

Mayoi doesn't actually have an arc of her own in Off Season, but she does appear in, once again, Tsukihi Undo. her appearance is the oddest here, but i'll get to that

Suruga! still in her school uniform, since she's now only a senior, but oddly, she still has her arm in the bandages. her Off Season arc, Suruga Bonehead, takes place solidly after Hana, and the key art she had for the arc in the novel had her with both arms uncovered, so i'm not sure what's up with that. it might just be that since this is going for "Monogatari's big return" they went for her most recognizable design

and then Yotsugi all the way at the top, the secret protagonist of Tsukihi Undo

so the conclusion i reach is that this is mostly focused on Tsukihi Undo, with three of the five characters being on here to represent that. Nadeko also makes an appearance in the arc, so Suruga is the odd one out, but Suruga is here for her own arc. this poster is very Wazamonogatari-heavy, but if that's where they were going for, then leaving Sodachi off feels very intentional. her arc has her disconnected from the rest of the cast, for the most part, so it could be intentional, or it could be because they have a big design shift for her in mind that they want to save for closer to when the anime airs properly. either way, this really only gives us some basic insight. Nadeko and Tsukihi are the two characters with new designs, and the rest are more of a "here's the other characters you also know". it's possible they didn't want to overload audiences with a bunch of redesigns all at once

on the website for Off and Monster Season, we have a credits list:

Shaft are credited as animation work, naturally

Akio Watanabe is returning for character designs, as is quite apparent from the visual

Fuyashi Tou is credited for Series Composition, along with Akiyuki Shinbo. Fuyashi Tou is a pseudonym used at Shaft, and has been credited on a wide variety of their works, including every installment of Monogatari. Shinbo is slightly more of a real person, so this seems to be about the same as the original series was!

the real interesting thing to me: the director. this was something i was very excited to see, and i wasn't disappointed. it's not Oishi, and it's not Itamura. Monogatari is getting its third series director, Midori Yoshizawa. Yoshizawa is a bit of a new name to Shaft, overall, having started working as an animator around the days of Hana, but she quickly rose through the ranks and was credited as an episode director during Owarimonogatari, specifically for the second episode (you know, the Sodachi one, with all the colors and the stabbing and the hate? very promising for where Sodachi Fiasco is going). she steadily did more and more at the studio, to the point of being the assistant director for the second and third seasons of the MagiReco anime. but! this is her first time as series director! so it's a debuting director taking the lead. looking over her credits, i'm definitely confident in her ability to handle this series

oh and Shinbo is also credited as director. lol

there's some weird stuff here, like Suruga being in her old design, or the lack of Sodachi, or the name, but overall, i'm quite excited for where this is all going. more Monogatari is good no matter what, but even better for it to be promising. i look forward to what Yoshizawa can bring to the series, and i look forward to seeing Off and Monster Seasons adapted!!!

#monogatari

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all-my-ocs-are-evil · 4 months

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more Grojband au drawings and headcanons bc apparently I only like making fanart for fandoms that are non-existent or on the brink of extinction.

(au ramblings after the keep reading)

Relationships

Platonic/Familial:

Lanes and Larry (nickname Lars or Lars Bar) got really close during middle school. They found comfort with each other bc they were in similar situations regarding their crushes. They'd sneak off after band practice to rant to each other about their band leaders and just wallow in self-pity. And that didn't really change as they got older. If anything, they got even closer, acting more like siblings than friends—they even got similar/mirroring piercings to match and wear coordinated outfits—, constantly ranting to or annoying each other at any opportunity. However, their audience doesn't really believe that it's just that (having given both of them the titles of casanovas for dating each other and their band leaders). And neither does Corey. Which, as you can probably guess, often leads being a point of contention between them.

Kim and Konnie: I've made them really close cousins. Why?. Because I can! jk jk but tbch I just wanted to add some variety in the lineup's dynamics. I'm also playing with the idea of one of them being half-white and the other being half-Filipino and having them be raised in different households to see how that would affect the different ways in which they'd interact. They are still close like sisters and each other's best friends, they were born on the same day and wear matching hair ties like friendship bracelets, but I want them to have things about them that make them different from being exact copies of their counterparts. However, this is definitely subject to change as I explore the concept more.

Corey and Carrie: acquaintances. Over the years their rivalry has seriously mellowed out and are more or less pleasant with each other. They will tease each other from time to time but that's kind of just what you do when you've known someone as long as they have.

Mina and Trina: Not quite sure where to put this one lol. Their relationship imploded senior year when Mina confessed to her and Trina responded in the worst way possible. Now Mina is doing school abroad and Trina had to repeat her last year. No one really knows what happened but rumor has it that Mina had said something so bad to Trina that it made her completely break. She doesn't hang out with anyone and she rarely, if ever, talks. She spends all her time alone in her room or at her job that nobody is even really sure she has.

Romantic:

Kon and Konnie: they are just happy and cute together. They started hanging out together more during sophomore year when Konnie's gym closed down and she had to go to a new one. They were definitely more awkward at first, they didn't really dislike each other but their friends did so they kind of just...didn't interact, but once they actually started talking they found they got along really well! They would often spot for the other and offer encouragement when working out. Inevitably they caught feelings and tried dating in secret. But that didn't last long (bc ofc it didn't lol) and they got caught. Both bands were more irritated than mad but eventually got over it.

Kin and Kim: a bickering old married couple. they are constantly 'breaking up' and then getting back together the next day. They are snarky and live for drama and gossip. They both think that the other is more in love with them and can control them bc of it. In reality, they are both equally whipped for each other but refuse to admit it. They constantly 'fight' to show that they aren't in love then somehow always fail miserably every time. They haven't made their relationship public and hopefully never will. They like having their fans think they're single and that if they found out it would ruin their images as the mysterious prince and princess of their respective groups. The bands' reactions to them range from exasperated eye rolls to mocking laughter.

Larry (yes, I'm sticking to calling him Larry) and Carrie: ??? Larry adores Carrie and she knows this. He makes it very clear and is willing to do almost anything for her. But how Carrie feels for Larry is unclear, at least that's what he says to Laney. She will treat him like a best friend and they'll hang out alone without problem, but she will have this weird distance about her that she doesn't close. That is until the cameras come on. During interviews and shoots, she will pull him close to her and say things that can be easily interpreted and romantic, but when asked to specify she will laugh and deflect the question. Then, once the cameras are off, she goes right back to being distant. He is unsure whether or not she actually likes him romantically or is just refusing to clarify for the sake of the band, but he'll lean into her touch whenever or wherever it's given. He seems to have come to terms with this being their dynamic and just...goes with it. There is one thing he knows for certain, he loves her and regardless of whether or not she cares for him romantically, he will stay by her side no matter what. Oddly enough, whenever the topic of Larry and Laney's relationship is brought up, Carrie refuses to talk about it. To be honest, she'll act like she has no idea what they're talking about and bluntly steer the conversation towards literally anything else.

Laney and Corey: Contradictory. Laney has essentially given up on forming a romantic bond with Corey. However, her actual feelings don't seem to have gotten the memo. She still cares for him so much it hurts. So much so that she's come to terms with the fact that she will never be able to be with anyone romantically because of it. Laney used to love the high of being in love, floaty and light, and now she feels more like a suffering addict, lost and panicked. She drowns in every touch and caress given to her but at the same time feels burned and scorned every time she realizes how simple and platonic they are. She can't blame him for not liking her back, but she's come to resent him for it. Just a little bit. She sometimes even wishes she had never met Corey. Constantly thinking about the life she could have had had she not been pulled into the living whirlpool that was Corey. She loves him, and he doesn't know it. But he holds her closer than anyone else. He is possessive of her and her attention. Whenever it's directed towards someone else, Larry especially, he pulls her back into him and refuses to let her go. This makes it even more unlikely for her to move on, in fact, it makes her angry. They argue about it often.

I have the beginnings of several scenes that explore these relationships and stuff but I'm not too sure I wanna share them just yet ^^; (my creative writing skill is a bit more than a little lacking lol)

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mechalily · 4 months

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fir branches, tied with red cord.

hello everyone! this writing is a secret santa present for precious @lovely-rubeum, who's works are a must-read for Thoma fans.

(🍂) tags: fluff (flashbacks), angst (currently), small age gap (2 years), fem!reader.

(⭐) spoiler tags: abandoment.

„ ♪ Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but you gave it away the very next day..“ New Year songs could've been heard everywhere. Layers of snowy crystals covered roofs and columns, fences and street lamps, making the light fuzzy. It's been six months since you left your homeland and went to university in another city. Yes, unlike your quiet little town with no kind of gaities and very few inhabitants who all knew each other, the city had much more to offer: wild parties every night, tons of cafes and restaurants, huge 20-floor shopping centers and different varieties of professional paths to follow. But your heart belonged to the calm peace of the town, soft sunbeams in the mornings, endless pinkish sky with plum-colored fluffy clouds — such dear memories were engraved in your soul. And, of course, your constant source of warmth whenever loneliness of an outsider hit you too hard was your childhood friendship with Thoma.

Thoma, who's hair reminded you of straws, who's green eyes shined brightly, who's genuine smile painted your cheeks with a prominent blush. Although you never communicated since he moved, reminiscence of your innocent tender bonds was still precious to you.

"Does he even remember me?" you wondered at times, looking up at the sky, gazing upon stars, so close yet so far, just like Thoma himself.

You were 7, he was 9. He was a "big boy" with responsibilities much bigger than yours. His family wasn't very financially stable: the father went missing two years ago, the mother worked two jobs so she appeared at home just to sleep and to cook something for her son, who also worked hard everyday, mowing lawns and walking dogs in order to get some money.

Your family was totally opposite. Huge inheritance allowed your parents to live as they pleased, going on trips every year and spoiling their beloved daughter — you — with tons of clothes, toys and sweets. At times, when you acted capriciously, your mom scoldingly reminded you of poor Thoma.

"Honey, you shouldn't take everything for granted. You are living a very comfortable life, unlike some people who weren't born that lucky. Think of the neighbor’s boy! Only two years older yet already working. Behave and take an example"

You sobbed yet didn't start crying in rage like you always did. After all, mom was right. Sometimes, on snowy winter evenings, you could see Thoma from your balcony. He cleared snow with a shovel twice his size. You never saw him playing with other kids or doing silly things natural for his age. Actually, he didn't have friends at all due to being constantly busy.

Christmas arrived, and your parents showered you with gifts on this occasion. Wearing new boots, cute hat and a coat, you went out into the yard to build a snowman. You saw a glimpse similar to a dark spot on a pure white snow. It turned out to be Thoma, dressed in some rags — the boy carried heavy packages, which was visibly difficult for him.

"Lemme help ya," you volunteered out of nowhere, grabbing a package's strap.

"You sure? It's heavy..." he hesitantly mumbled.

"I'm billion percent sure. Let's be friends!" you blurted out, steam curling out of your mouth.

Thoma froze in place. It was the first time ever anyone suggested to befriend him. You two were breathing heavily, dragging bundle along the street in quietness. You started feeling worried due to him keeping silent, but suddenly cheery voice interrupted the hush:

"Sure, let's be friends! What's your name?" Thoma smiled widely, exposing teeth.

You introduced yourself, and that was the day your life has entirely changed.

You were 11, he was 13. Even after enrolling into middle school and making friends with his peers Thoma still valued you the most. He picked you up after classes, treated to home-made meals, played games with you and helped when it came to studying. School wasn't easy for him. Working part-time and taking care of his mother in a hangover took all of his free time. Thoma expected you to dump him: after all, he was unable to go to cafes and amusement parks, buy you gifts and share candies. He couldn't endure your saddened face and pouty cheeks without heart ache whenever he told you he wouldn't have time to go play with you.

But what Thoma did not expect was you acting on the contrary.

"Oh, you are such a good boy!" your mother giggled, patting his head. You invited him to a sleepover in your house every week, and he finally gained an opportunity to shower in warm water, eat a proper dinner and not some semi-finished products thrown in one plate, sleep for full 8 hours..Your parents were incredibly kind and caring, considerate yet never intrusive. Here, in your place, Thoma felt loved, loved unconditionally. You two enjoyed your cocoa with marshmallow, cooked slightly crooked gingerbread and decorated the Christmas Tree all together.

“Who do you think you will be in the future, Thoma?” you asked one evening, when two of you were busy with baking a pie.

“Uh, wait, wait a second! One last thing… Here,” he spread out dough strips, “closing” the pie. “Who will I be in the future, you said? Ha-ha, to be honest.. I don’t really know. I hope I’ll work with kids or manage domestic stuff, cuz I enjoy doing it,” he chuckled, fixing his apron. “Hey, you are all in flour! Give me a second, I’ll wipe it off,” the boy reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and swiped the flour away. His touch sent shivers down your spine, as if you got hit with electricity.

“And who do you think you’ll be?” Thoma questioned.

“Hm… I want to become a teacher one day. Or a doctor,” «or your significant other», you added mentally.

“You are so hard-working, I’m sure you’ll succeed!” he smiled encouragely and patted you on the shoulder.

You were 14, he was 16. From shy and ordinary guy Thoma became popular, quick-witted and got admired for his nice sunny personality. You, on the other hand, had grown up reserved and quiet. That, whatsoever, didn’t break your friendship.

“Hey, pumpkin, forgetting your lunch box becomes a habit!”

Of course you recognized this upbeat voice. Who else would’ve called you a pumpkin?

When you turned your gaze up to your desk, there was a cute box in sight and widely smiling blond.

“Aww, come on, Thoma, you didn’t have to!” you sighed dramatically, although internally you were screaming, feeling flattered from such solicitude.

“I have to, because I care about your health, silly,” he gently ruffled your hair, avoiding ruining your hairstyle. “Let’s have a meal before lunch break ends, okay? I’ll stay here with you, no worries, we won’t go to the cafeteria,” he added immediately after noticing barely evident hints of your anxiety.

“...thanks, Thoma. Let’s see what you’ve prepared for me,” with that, you opened the box.. and your heart started pulsing like you have run a marathon.

Absolutely adorable salad with different vegetables, cut in some cute shapes. The dedication and efforts, invested in this dish, were obvious. You nearly teared up. No one has ever did something like that for you.

“H-hey, is everything alright? You’ve turned pale…” Thoma asked in concerned tone.

“No, no, not at all! It’s just so sweet of you.. Thank you so much. I can’t make myself eat such masterpiece..”

“Hold on, kid! You need to eat, otherwise I might spoon feed you,” once in a while Thoma acted mischievously, and you couldn’t predict this behavior. He was never mean, of course, but teasing certainly had a place in moments like this.

“And how about feeding me from mouth to mouth, huh?” you teased him back with a sly grin.

Thoma reddened: the color of his face was similar to the color of his jacket.

“Ah-ha-ha… You are quite naughty, aren’t you?” you could feel the heat emanating from his body.

“And what if so?” you cheekily raised your eyebrow.

“I assume a kiss will be able to erase this smirk from your face,” the boy tried to get his composure back, but failed miserably, stumbling his words and awkwardly fidgeting.

“Try it, so we could discuss the truthfulness of your statement”

“Um… maybe next time, ha-ha…”

To Thoma’s luck, the bell rang, so he ran out of the classroom, leaving you alone and flustered.

“Don’t forget to eat, pumpkin!”

Since that day you two have never brought up this accident, even though having lunch with Thoma became a daily routine.

You were 16, he was 18. He was embracing you tightly, despite the uncomfortable proximity under the boiling sun.

“I’ll miss you, pumpkin,” he mumbled, and you could tell he was being honest — every wrinkle, every muscle of his face depicted the dreary sorrow of parting. Even though his 12 years old Nokia phone still worked, you heavily doubted it would function properly. Yet you still hoped for the best.

“Thoma, dear.. Please, call or text me as soon as possible. It’s dull without you,” tears flowed on their own, and you couldn’t help it.

Suddenly you sensed some soft sensation against your skin. There was no need to look up to understand what was it. You closed your eyes and indulged in bubbly pleasure.

Thoma was your first best friend.

Thoma was your first Valentine, though you both considered it to be a friendly one.

Thoma was the first person apart of your family to cook for you.

Everything important in your life was about him.

And now, he granted you your first kiss.

“I love you,” his green eyes watered just like yours. “When I graduate, I’ll come back for you. Do you agree?”, you grabbed his calloused hands and squeezed them.

“Yes. Yes, of course”

Two years have passed since then. There were no news from Thoma nor texts or calls. He simply disappeared from the world. Both of his parents rested in peace, and they didn’t have any relatives, so wondering about his fate was all you’ve got to do. Your messages never got delivered.

“Sorry, the number you dialed does not exist,” you heard this voice line so many times it annoyed you to no end. You cried out of frustration, you felt numbness and anger, and finally, you accepted the entire situation.

Maybe he dumped you.

Maybe something happened to him.

You won’t know until his studying finishes.

Graduating from high school, passing exams, enrolling into university — you went through everything all by yourself with support from your parents.

Sipping coffee and sinking in your unhappy thoughts, you didn’t pay attention to any of the cafe visitors — after all, it was way too far from yor home, there was no chance to meet your countryman.

With the bell tickle, which announced the emergence of new client, loud fast speech could have been heard:

“Yoimiya, I’m so sorry! I left my place on time, it’s just that traffic accident with a mongrel dog occured, I had to take poor animal to the vet-”

This voice.

You stared upon the guest in disbelief.

Blond hair. Red coat. Black bandana which looked like horns. Pitiful smile. Green eyes.

“Oh, dear God, Thoma! Is everything okay? Is the doggie alright?! Ugh, how could this be?..” fair-headed young lady came out of the stall and jumped forward the man.

“Wait,” he shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of weird delusions. But that was not a delusion.

“Is this…” his voice lowered to husky whisper, eyes widened in shock.

“...Thoma?” you stood up on shaking legs.

#thoma x reader #genshin headcanons #hurt/comfort #genshin x reader #gixrsecretsanta2023

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12pt-times-new-roman · 4 months

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c3e81

As a reminder, because I sort of missed it in my last post: Fearne absorbing and re-activating the shard also awakened Ashton's shard, and they were both transformed.

"What if every so often an ancient stone titan surfaces on Ashton's face and he goes, 'oh, the ancient times!'" boy that is RICH coming from Laudna--

On the bright side, now that the shard has been absorbed, Delilah's want for it has subsided.

Chetney talks about his family. He doesn't blame them for leaving, not at all — they were fleeing a red dragon — but he's considering making a deal with Nana Morri for his youth.

Outside, Ashton and Fearne are figuring out their new powers. While in their transformed state, Ashton can glide through unworked/loose earth or stone freely, and it sounds like their speed is increased. They can use this to run up sheer cliff-faces, and by submerging themself only halfway in the stone they can carry people up with them like an elevator. Their pain is gone in this state, and when it returns, it feels welcome.

For Fearne, while in her transformed state she's immune to fire damage, a creature that hits her takes 1d8 fire damage, and her fire spells are more powerful now. She also floats about a foot off the ground, so her movement ignores difficult terrain, and when she touches the ground she leaves little black scorch marks. Even in her un-transformed state, she has a slight smoke drifting from her hair, and a little flame in her pupils.

Both Ashton and Fearne have abilities that they can unleash that will exhaust them significantly. It's unclear how long their transformed states last for and how many times they can use them per day.

Meanwhile, Chetney goes to Nana Morri to ask about a "wish."

Monsters, frost worms, opening bottles, wind, fire — whatever. I will always be impressed by the quality and variety of Matt's hinge creak sound effects.

Morri reveals that she doesn't grant wishes, she makes deals — there has to be collateral, and if people don't hold up their end of the deal, they become like the topiaries in the garden.

Chetney very, very carefully proposes a deal: he gets imbued with some of Morri's power, in exchange for the ability for her to exert more of her power over the mortal realm. (Chetney's shadow touched feat suddenly makes a lot of sense — a suspicious amount of sense, actually.) Morri changes the scenery to a dark, empty space with a single table.

"What is it that you want specifically? Tell me your dreams." "Well, I would love to never die, but that seems a little much. So — I was wondering... do people ask to return to their youth?" Both are things she's granted before, but she cuts to the root: Chetney came in here with a singular desire, greater than either of those requests. "I want to be the most famous toymaker the world has ever known." "Now that just requires a little bend of fate, doesn't it?" Morri pulls a golden thread from Chetney's chest, it stretches from dark to dark, and as she pulls on it a cold sensation courses through Chetney. "And what will you give me?" "What would you want?" "Bring me a piece of what you hunt. Bring me a piece of the God-Eater." "Let me do some simple arithmetic here — it's a deal." As it is stricken, she runs her hand over the lantern, alights her palm with white fire and clasps Chetney's hand with it — the cold touches his palm and that golden thread seems to twist and tangle a bit, then she withdraws. "Very well. Make me proud, and you'll be notorious."

(god this is going to backfire so badly — like, if Predathos is anything like the Lovecraftian horrors it's very clearly modeled after, a piece is all it needs. am I the only one thinking of a color out of space here?)

They start their long rest and have the campaign's first heroes' feast! FCG feeds the Bells Hells plus Allura, Pate, and Mister. Their HP max goes up by 13, they are immune to being poisoned and frightened, and they make all wisdom saves with advantage for the next 24 hours.

For the first time in many, many days, they set up their dream ritual. FCG brings everyone except Chetney and Fearne into Imogen's dream.

Imogen's intent with this dream is to enter the beam and travel to Ruidus, to see what happens when she does. She glides past clouds beneath the starry sky and eventually finds herself in a corkscrew, drifting — all five of them are already gliding along the Bloody Bridge, hurtling upward toward the Moon of Ill Omen. Sparks pulse through it and almost catches them up in it — they're shunted, dragged through, like a rollercoaster. Before long, they untether from the beam and start free-falling toward the dusty surface of Ruidus. There are mountain ranges, chasms, and slivers of silver carving through the landscape — before they arrive at the core of the Ruidian storms. In this lost space, there is no sense of up or down, just the storm, the wind — they're lost.

Imogen opens her mind, and for a brief moment she feels like she's tapping into a greater consciousness, minds like background radiation that flicker beyond reach; the storm clears like she's in the eye and she sees Exandria above. The ground itself is vibrating like there's a stampede, it's warm, the stones seem to shift. And she lets go.

The only thing that's kept her dangling above an abyss, Imogen allows it to snap. She tumbles into the ground and the black warmth envelops you; to the rest of them, the dark is rough, jagged, scary. They see and feel nothing except for dread, and an alien presence that washes over and through them — but Imogen feels comfort, sensations of running into Liliana's arms, Laudna's arms, memories of hugging her horses, a sense of belonging. They pass through rock, flashes of color — cavern networks that snake like a labyrinth beneath the crust of the moon. Glimpses of teal crystal and subterranean rivers, water, oceans — alien, red life that swim through it whose green eyes track them. But darkness, still. A distant voice calls — "wait, Imogen, no—" and it's gone.

Their descent stops. The rest of them drift into suffocating darkness, Imogen is gone — the shared dream spell ends.

Imogen senses a presence unlike anything she's ever experienced. It's so immense that her entire being vibrates with power, she worries as it suffuses her that she might be pulled apart — that white flash she saw, these moments where the world rent itself around her, that power pulls to rend her but she belongs here. She is home. This is the womb, and she wishes nothing more than to return to this place with her entire core — but she wakes, then. Moments later.

This is an excellent setup for this, especially because it's giving Laudna and Imogen conflicting information and motives. Laudna, FCG, Orym, and Ashton all know that this darkness is rough and lifeless and it will shred them, suffocate them — but Imogen is being supernaturally coerced into selfishness. This feels like a big red flashing sign that says "some powers are not worth embracing, sometimes giving in to power will change you irreparably and you will not like what you see in the mirror anymore" and yet they're still pushing her to embrace it against her better judgment.

I am once again begging someone to acknowledge that FCG does not, in fact, need to sleep and can keep constant watch with no detriment to themself

Their long rest passes without issue, but in the middle of the night, when he's sure no-one is watching, Orym knocks on Nana Morri's door.

"The way I understand it, from what Fearne tells me, you can help people. You make deals. Well, um... my friends are all pretty amazing, the things they can do, I can't even fit it all in my head, and I'm really good with a sword but I'm a little nervous I'm not ready for what we're about to do tomorrow. [None of you are ready.] The point is, I feel the least ready in our group, and I wanna see this through, I wanna get it done, and I wanna get them back. I wanna get Fearne back, and all of them. So... if you can somehow make me better at protecting them, or stronger, more capable at what I do, I might agree to a lot."

Morri's eyes look past Orym, beyond, and when Orym looks back he's in the same dark space, with the same white lantern on the same table. "Your passion is to protect your friends, yes?" "My friends, your granddaughter — I don't know if there's a friends and family discount, but...?" "And what do you have to offer, little Ashari?" "Well, if I see them all through and we get it done, I'll serve you." "You smell of the touch of divinity. That makes you enticing. Well, now that Fearne's all grown up and might be finding her own way, it does get a bit lonely here in the manor. Maybe it'd be nice to have a caretaker." "These have to be worded just right, Imogen said — that's if we see it through. Every one of Bells Hells makes it back and we see it through. That's an easy trade. Back alive, happy, safe, and healthy." "Well, you have to leave happy to return happy, and health is in varying states at least. Return at least as you are." "Return alive." "Very well."

Morri grants Orym the ability to call upon her when he's in need (and probably some other abilities, too) in exchange for his service to her, provided that every one of the Bells Hells returns from Ruidus alive.

They get a long rest, but Imogen falls asleep missing that sensation she experienced at the core of the moon.

I have 3 primary thoughts about Orym's deal. First is that there is a Laudna-sized hole in Orym's insistence that everyone returns alive — in fact, he specifies that against Morri's stipulation of "returns as they are," so it sounds like Orym was working in a loophole. Second, this has the potential to be a big act 3 setup centering around breaking or finding a loophole int hat deal. And third, FEY PALADIN ORYM !!!! (he doesn't have the stats to multiclass into warlock but ancients or devotion paladin?? yeah.)

In the morning, they have a meal, then head back to Exandria. It's hardly been an hour since they left. They arrive in the familiar Hellcatch Valley, where there is a strong reddish hue to the entirety of the landscape. Ruidus hangs above them, larger than they've ever seen, silent and consuming the air above them. They're miles away from the Tishtan excavation site, and as they walk towards the west encampment (where Allura's allies are), then can see numerous legions, signs of battle, skyship wreckage — there has been warfare here, skirmishes, sides testing boundaries but nothing all-in. There's an air of held breath.

As they enter, Allura is met by three authority figures: Myth-Taker Qi Mandozi, an older orcish man, of Ashanedoor; Guardian Tofur Bratoris, a silver Dragonborn woman in full plate armor, wearing the symbol of the Council of Tal'dorei; and Dawnmarshal Earthbreaker Groon, the most muscular grandpa they've ever seen, leader of Kord's temple in Vasselheim.

All of them carry a presence, but Groon has a force that carries a massive weight; he is an individual who walks with the strength of the gods. "Underestimation is a powerful thing."

Into the war-tent!

Ohohoho, Earthbreaker Groon has some kind of Ruidus-born radar — Fearne catches him staring at her and Imogen like a parent looks at a child who's done something wrong.

Also inside the war-tent are Percy and Keyleth! They explain that the reason the Bells Hells are so important in this endeavor is because they are not being watched, they are not being paid attention to — "because so few, for now, know of you."

The Ruby Vanguard is trying to divide the world. Doomsday cults are rising in response to recent events, and the Vanguard is taking advantage of them to raise support for their cause; in doing so, they are waging ideological war on the home-front in addition to waging a militaristic war around the Malleus Key.

Percy unveils one of their distraction attempts: "butcher wagons," cloaked with illusions to look like a massive assault but instead stocked with buckets of blood; the Vanguard's forces will be drawn away and the wagons will be detonated, creating the illusion of an actual battle to keep them occupied for up to 30 minutes. That's how long the Bells Hells will have to get to the key. Luckily for them, the Vanguard's most intelligent members are already on the moon.

The Bells Hells will enter from the opposite side and slip in unnoticed during the battle. Because of their sabotage of the key earlier, the dispelling field is not present, but there are a significant number of Reilorans on the ground who can sense their minds — the scrolls will help with that.

"If you are discovered, ensure there are no witnesses. Whatever that means to you — whether silencing them or taking them with you — this is war. This is about all of us. All of us." Groon speaks with the voice of Kord on that last line.

Allura advocates for redemption and rehabilitation of the members of the Vanguard, if possible, when Laudna questions what the threshold is. But again — this is war. Keyleth, without eye contact, pipes in. "Save who you can, but do what is right."

Their mission while on Ruidus is to learn what they can. Who the Reilora are and what they want, whether they have a leader who can be parlayed with, what Ludinus' intentions are and how long he needs to achieve them — anything they can get, until they feel it is too dangerous to continue.

Fearne approaches Groon and asks about the look he gave them. "These eyes do not look anywhere; I sensed you. You are Ruidus-born, both of you." The entire tent knows, now. Keyleth advocates for them in good faith, not knowing what Imogen just did the night before.

They had tried to work with Ruidus-born before, and at a certain point, they just forgot what they were doing and joined their new friends. "Well, that's not gonna happen with us." FCG, you fucking wish, buddy—

Allura advocates for them too, and Groon looks back at them. "I trust they are capable, for they know that if they turn, the storm will find them. But you are of the storm, are you not?" "I am the storm, baby." "It seems your friends have more faith in you than you have in yourself. Be prepared to rely on them, when the time comes."

"You are the tip of the spear, and we are everything to follow. We just need you to guide us." Keyleth turns to Percy. "Why does it always take a bunch of assholes to get anything done?" (Ashton, reading Percy like a book: "He likes us!")

And here we go with Laudna enabling Imogen in literally anything even when it means giving up everything. "What if it is your calling? I don't want to stand between you and what you really want—" I am going to s c r e a m

But Laudna goes and asks Keyleth about what was distracting her before: it's Vax, trapped in that orb. "We need to set him free." She also confirms that the bridge is the only connection Exandria has to Ruidus; the moon is completely shielded against divination, teleportation, and everything else. The bridge needs to stay, Vax needs to keep screaming, until their business is done.

Before they leave, FCG casts telepathic bond — y'know, that one spell that allowed the Ring of Brass to hear each others' last thoughts as the ground came up to meet them and that eventually enabled the escape of a flighted scion who carried their memories into the after-times?

Earthbreaker Groon puts a hand on Imogen's shoulder, and she sees a flash of Kord in a roiling storm, and she hears his voice, growling. "You have my eye. There is greatness in you. Do not let us down." "I won't."

something something about how Ruidus being tethered to Exandria may have opened it up to the influence of Exandria's pantheon and the one who would have the greatest influence over the surface and of Imogen's dreams would, of course, be the Storm Lord

But as the preparations end, the two fronts roll out.

Allura, Qi, and Percy accompany the wagons, while Keyleth brings the Bells Hells in close. She casts gaseous form on them all, and they begin their trek toward the Malleus Key.

From above, they can see the illusions overtake the butcher wagons: a charging wave of gargantuan armored beasts, thirty feet high and four arms each, like massive gorillas; rhinos, armored; an entire frontal assault, flanked by massive elementals with flaming rock-wings, the married imaginations of two high arcanists working in tandem.

Their bodies reform at the edge of the crater and Keyleth turns to them. "You have a few minutes to gather your thoughts; then, be on your way." The clouds above her grow thick and dark, flashes of lightning break, and the entire vicinity is as if a thunderous hurricane has touched down in the center of Marquet. Lightning strikes clear a path for them as they don Ruby Vanguard robes, but they can already see the entire perimeter guard doubling as the attention is drawn to the surface, then to the wagons.

Gaseous form lasts for 8 hours, so it could be of use to them down the road — not just now, though, because of how long it takes to transform into and out of the form.

They begin to approach, and horns sound from inside the site — the first group stealth roll of the encounter rounds to about 28-30, so I think they're in the clear for now as dozens of crawlers and Reiloran warriors collide with the illusion. Spells are being flung from inside the illusion, Percy's contraptions fire cannons and explode payloads, the illusion shapes and reacts — it's a magnificent display of arcane prowess as they crest the edge of the Tishtan site.

#critical role #note watches c3 #critical role campaign 3 #critical role spoilers #critical role c3 #critical role liveblog #long post

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