#very long essay that took too long

[freddiesflowercrown]

Final Fifteen opinion almost a year after the release of season 2 YAYYYYYYY

Thing is I personally never interpretated aziraphale's "you're the bad guys" as something that meant "you crowley are also a bad guy because you're a demon from hell". I always saw that "you" as a reference to hell. I mean crowley constantly says "your lot" even in s2 to aziraphale when he refers to heaven so i never saw the difference between what crowley does to what aziraphale did in that moment, they were talking about hell and heaven anyway. Also aziraphale and does not believe crowley is a proper bad guy, he believes he is nice. (and why would he take someone he thought was bad to the """good""" place anyway?)

And that also never made the scene less heartbreaking from crowley's POV in my opinion. A conclusion that we come at by the end of season 1 is that both heaven and hell are bad in one way or another with both aziraphale and crowley completely accepting that and that's also one of the reasons they now are on their side. So if aziraphale thinks hell is bad and heaven is good it seems like he's taken a step backwards and somewhat rejects (?) "their" side. So if that made sense i don't think this pov made the words hurt less for crowley or something?

Now whether aziraphale actually means it/rejects their side or not a different discussion 😭

[vammieposts]

AP SCORES RELEASED IN A COUPLE DAYS IM SCARED

[kinnbig]

oh my god, tell us more (about the arm tankhun fake dating fic in your head), please! :D

OKAY so the concept is. about 6 months post-canon, the main and minor families are invited to the destination wedding of one of their allies from a hugely powerful mafia family - it's a few nights staying on a private tropical island, and as a respect/trust/hospitality thing, it would be considered really inappropriate for guests to bring more than one or two bodyguards per group.

so Tankhun is like “well then obviously I can’t go?” because while he is now much better at leaving the house, he’s not quite ‘get on a plane and fly to a random island for several days of intense socialisation with incredibly dangerous near-strangers without a single Trusted Bodyguard’ levels of better.

he’s talking to Chay about it and Chay's like “yeah, it's kind of fucked up that everyone gets a +1 but not a bodyguard. how would anyone even know if your +1 was your bodyguard?!” and Tankhun's like “.....Chay you're a genius. Arm, I need you to be my wedding date.”

commence the fake dating shenanigans! they ‘reveal’ their secret, long-term relationship to the entire family, and then they’ve got to pretend to be a couple in front of everyone while Arm actually works as Tankhun’s bodyguard. as the only other person who knows their relationship isn’t real, Chay is helping to mastermind the entire operation. what Chay also knows is that Khun does actually have very real and Not Fake feelings for Arm - and you can be sure he’s going to be a menace about it.

luckily, Khun is being just as much of a menace in return - the wedding is the first time Kim and Chay have been in the same room since… well, everything, and Tankhun has watched them both silently pine for each other for long enough. background KimChay reconciliation era my beloved!

and so the usual fake dating antics ensue! lots of pining… plenty of acting out intimacy while wishing it was genuine… Chay putting them in so many Situations… lines slowly blurring between what is part of the act and what is real… and. obviously. there was only one bed.

🥰 thank u so much for indulging me, i love talking about blorbos from my shows and my silly story ideas for them! i came up with this with @aikinn and @thewholedamnboulangerie during some kind of group astral plane projection, which makes it especially delicious as they always have the best and most objectively correct Tankhun takes 💪

my brain is currently on 24/7 armtankhun lockdown soooo if u have thoughts about Them… pls… i would like to eat them…

[waywardsalt]

thinking abt bellum v hard. (fyi there are 1658 words under this cut)

there's not a lot of concrete stuff to think abt but there ideas. he's kind of already won by the time link shows up on the scene. he's not really actively antagonizing the world of the ocean king, he mostly just has the ghost ship to go around collecting prey for him while he has the yook and anouki turned against each other and seems to have infested the different temples and whatever with monsters to delay any opposition. is he the one who destroyed the cobble kingdom? they're meant to be supporters of the ocean king so i think we can guess that bellum is the one who tried to eradicate them.

maybe he was the one who... mind controlled? or otherwise meddled with the yook to keep them from checking out the ice temple and keeping the anouki occupied with dealing with them. (tbh theres some untapped potential in the relationship between the yook and anouki) he doesn't really do anything to the gorons but maybe he doesn't see them as a worthwhile threat since they see the crimsonine as more of an artifact and not something they should really do anything with, and link has to pass a test to even be allowed to go to the temple. the cobble kingdom is already destroyed, and it can be assumed that he mightve mimicked their engineering based on eox being the hostile boss of the last temple and turning into sand, suggesting a relationship to bellum, and maybe that he's trying to hide the fact that he's the one fucking with everyone. i'm not even sure if characters (besides the main group) even know that bellum exists until link's quest is more known.

taking a note from the manga, where bellum says something along the lines of feelings of love and friendship creating more worthwhile life force for him, so taking that into account with stuff in the game suggests that he maybe doesnt make his presence well-known to avoid something like a mass panic or a persistent fear in people, which could downplay positive emotions that makes their life forces more worth taking to him along with other worthwhile forces maybe being ones connected to divine power (like his taking of tetra and seeming desperation to keep her specifically, since she's most likely a descendant of hylia's mortal form), so he likely is very hands-off with how he's affected the world in order to preserve the value of his prey, somehow. idk why he turns people into statues maybe its a preservation method. maybe hes saving tetra for some reason or maybe trying to bait link in as well. maybe he wants to grab link, too, but failed to catch him the first time and resorted to allowing him to go down the path of dismantling bellum's work all so that bellum can try and capture him himself.

the spirits he does manage to capture and left alive and instead just sealed away within their temples, which i believe is because spirits and gods and whatever in loz can't really die unless they explicitly permanently become mortal (hylia) and can only really be sealed away temporarily in some form, mostly due to a lot of them being a sort of representation of some part of the world (i like to imagine that demise is the god or whatever who created monsters, he's the father of monsters and opposes hylia due to the way her favored creatures [hylians ig] attack and kill monsters and he wants the world to be habitable and safe only for his creations)

it's probably safe to say that the ghost ship (like. the whole thing) was created by bellum, and in some form is perhaps some kind of living being, hence why bellum is capable of effectively possessing it the way he does, since it's an extension of himself like the boss monsters, it just maybe takes parts from some existing ships, or maybe it's not alive and bellum is capable of creating large structures like that he is compatible with.

bellum himself turns to sand when he is defeated, as well as most of the other boss monsters, but the cubus sisters (who certainly have a relationship with bellum due to having the same eyes and being connected to the ghost ship) do not turn into sand, which makes me think that bellum didn't actually create them; maybe they're corpses or something being remotely puppeted by bellum.

bellum is clearly made up of the sand of hours, a crystallization of life force, and oshus is said to have used those sands to create the phantom hourglass, and the sands are also mentioned to have been created from the force gems connected back to oshus himself, so bellum was probably created from those force gems and therefore those sands of hours at some point somehow (i enjoy the idea that oshus was the one who created bellum; with oshus being our main source of info on bellum, i think it'd be interesting if he was the one who originally made bellum but obscures this fact by just talking about how he 'appeared' and whatnot).

bellum seems to have a weird sort of... inverted? perverted? ability to create life (perhaps a sort of parallel to the one we can assume the ocean king has if we assume that he created the three spirits as well as bellum maybe) but only in a hivemind or derivative sort of way, only able to create things that follow simple commands and when he possesses something else he takes it over. (i like to take him in a more biological or physiological way rather than magical, when he is removed so is the control, but there might be little remnants, but his influence is gone. i take bellumbeck aftereffects to be terrible sickness rather than others going with the idea of taking on some bellum-like traits or residual controls. the things bellum creates can only follow simple rules unless he is directly in control therefore he can use it as he wishes, but if he takes control of something he did not create, it's a bit more of a battle, he has to contend with that other being's subconscious or whatnot and has no effect unless he is physically connected. his control is more limited and ends up incorporating some of the hosts' subconscious desires with some guiding from bellum himself to achieve a favorable outcome.)

with the world of the ocean king being a sort of parallel/separate world to link n tetra's great sea, it's interesting that the ghost ship can be physically present outside the world in which it was created. definitely there can be contact between different worlds in loz (like hyrule and the dark world/lorule in alttp/albw and a little bit with termina if you take that as a literal place and a little bit with koholint and then the twili realm and whatever i'm missing) but it's interesting to see bellum as a villain capable of (in some way) contact and interact within other worlds and drag inhabitants of those other worlds into his own (oshus can send people out of his world, so i assume he can also bring them in, maybe that's how link gets in despite falling off of the ghost ship, unless somehow the ghost ship is still within the world of the ocean king but is also present in the great sea but the area around it is a fragment of whatever part of the world of the ocean king its in superimposed over the great sea... idk) so it's interesting that bellum could bc considered a villain able to tamper with or at least interact with world boundaries to let things in and out, maybe it's something that he is only capable of with whatever power he's attained by the start of the game.

whatever relationship he may have to oshus and the other spirits is not at all a part of the game, but at the same time we don't learn a whole lot about them anyways. there's also stuff with the chief of the golden frogs as another ally of oshus, but i imagine bellum didn't bother with him because he has no relation to the spirits' locations and the pure metals, and zuaz was left alone perhaps because his location is secret, while astrid and kayo were maybe found due to living on a more populated island (more prey for bellum to go after, more people to know about astrid and kayo). a lot of the monsters in the dungeons were probably already there, while the bosses were specifically made to protect what was hidden there, or maybe the bosses came first and their presences attracted other monsters.

i think bellum created the two monsters you fight overseas on the spot; they existed specifically to try and kill link because at those two times (link going to get the final spirit and link going to get the first pure metal) bellum suddenly panics and decides to try and eliminate link at the cost of the loss of a possible worthwhile piece of prey. bellum was probably also the one to begin the rumor of the ghost ship; i imagine he can take a sort of human form the same way oshus can, and spent a bit of time after defeating oshus and creating the ghost ship integrating him within some pirate crew and using them to grow and spread the rumor of the ghost ship, eventaully leading them towards it and taking them has his first victims (and along the way taking the time to foster good relationships with them in the hopes that their positive emotions and feelings would make them more worthwhile prey, back to the manga snippet idea of feelings of friendship and love [and probably positive emotions in general] being another form of better life force).

bellum's cool

[dnangelic]

what ghost haunts you?

the ghost of devotion .

your body was crafted to be loved and to be adored. you write with the touch of a poet, the fingertips of a lover. if you are not loved, you are not whole. you are made to be sculpted by the hands of another into something perfect. without their love, you feel as though you may crumble without the support of purpose their touch provides. when ernest hemingway wrote “it was too good to last.” when ocean vuong wrote, “i miss you more than i remember you.” when david foster wallace wrote, “everything i’ve ever let go of has claw marks on it.”

the ghost of the damned .

you rot with the need for something more than what you have. the ghost is built up of the feeling of stagnation. you find it staring at the ceiling with sleep - blurred vision ; this is the third night you have met its eyes in the early hours of the morning. you tear yourself apart looking for comfort, for validation, for acceptance. but it never feels quite enough. you ruin everything you touch, despite every attempt to be more than what you have always been. you would sculpt yourself as something perfect for those around you, but you are no artist. when albert camus wrote, “be silent, heart; there is no hope!” when lucille clifton wrote, “maybe i should’ve wanted less. maybe i should’ve ignored the bowl in me, begging to be filled.” when taylor swift said, “i’m still on that tightrope, i’m still trying everything to get you looking at me.”

tagged by @primordyalsoul ty sumin!!!!

[rawliverandcigarettes]

I think I'm almost done with the cover for the physical edition of Halfway Home !!!

[finnritter]

fit prompt: Where does Turgon get Glamdring?

Turgon watched the last of his lords trickle out of the meeting room, eager to go about their day after several long and exhausting discussions, until he alone remained behind in the empty room.

He opened a window, stretched his stiff shoulders and leaned down to rest his arms on the windowsill, enjoying just for a moment the fresh air stroking his face and the breathtaking view over his city.

The moment he would step out of this room, he would have to retreat to his own studies, back to long-overdue (how was it always long-overdue, no matter how diligently he tried to catch up?) paperwork that he would spend the rest of the day absorbed in.

He loved to take those five minutes in between, when he could do nothing but exist, if only for a blink in time.

He had also noticed, with a spark of amusement, that those were usually the moments when someone would inevitably interrupt him, usually with the latest news of a crisis or an incident or any urgent sensation that was clearly not insolvable by anyone but the king, and still usually got taken to him. It happened alarmingly often, maybe that was why the paperwork never got done.

But today it seemed like he would be disappointed in this regard after all, and he already braced himself for the boredom of the evening, when he heard quick, light footsteps approaching from the hallway, which could only belong to Idril.

He turned around with a smile just as the huge door was pulled open and he was greeted by his daughter’s inquiring eye. Her face lit up as she spotted him.

“Ah, there you are!”

He crossed the room with a few long strides, until he could speak to her without raising his voice.

“You have been looking for me?”

“I want to show you something.”

Her briefness, paired with the telling smile tugging at her lips, made him assume that she would not be sharing much more until she had shown him whatever it was that she had prepared for him. He still asked her about it, curiously, while already holding the door for her and letting her lead him towards the main exit of the palace.

“It is a secret, Atya. A surprise”

“What is the date?”, Turgon asked with exaggerated shock. “Have I missed my own begetting day?”

“You wish”, Idril said with a rather unsettling twinkle in her eyes. “There is no way you would miss what Glorfindel has actually planned for your begetting day. No, although it is a gift, in a way, this is more part of a greater plan that has been brewing for a while now.”

“Now, you’re making it interesting. Why is it that you never tell me of your plans beforehand?”

“That is because the moment I, or anyone, tell you of an idea, you need to get involved yourself and can’t let go of it. It has proven to be way less nerve-wracking for all people involved to just present you with a fait accompli.”

She smiled sweetly at him and all his protests at her – unfortunately rather apt – depiction of his character melted into a half-hearted sigh.

“And this ‘fait accompli’ of yours is hidden in… where are you leading me? The forge?”

“Precisely.”

More was not to be winkled out of her, and so Turgon, who was secretly considering how much more things were being dealt with behind his back for the exact same reason, just resigned himself to his fate and followed her.

…

The secret, as she had called it, was actually waiting for him just outside the royal forge, held by an elf that Turgon recognized to be Angûr, arguably the best blacksmith of the House of the Hammer of wrath. In front of him, actually hiding the object of interest, stood another elf, currently studying it intently.

“Are you certain that he will like it? Maybe we should change the design of the gems after all, it does seem a little over the top, now that I think about it, I just couldn’t help myself. But maybe, before he sees it-”

Turgon frowned and Angûr, who seemed to have heard them approach unlike his companion, met his eyes and bowed his head. Turgon had never heard him speak, unsure if he couldn’t, or didn’t choose to after having been enslaved by the enemy for a long time, but his amused side-eye towards his companion – who Turgon deemed to recognize at once – spoke volumes.

“Angûr”, Turgon greeted, even more curious than before. “Enerdhil.”

The latter spun around at once as he heard his name being called and immediately stumbled into a rather frenzied bow.

“My King”, he exclaimed, once he had gathered himself. “I did not expect you here so soon.”

“And I did not expect to see you today, at all, albeit I’m pleased to see you faring well”, he said, sending an inquisitive look towards Idril, who had jumped up to sit on a low wall and watched the scene unfold with a curious smile.

“Ah, so you see, your fair daughter has commissioned a sword for from us”, Enerdhil explained, as she made no movement to answer. “It is to be yours, my King.”

“A sword?”, Turgon asked, still directed towards Idril. “I have a sword.”

“Enerdhil had an idea”, she said, open in her admiration for the young smith, who had grown to be a rather close friend to her. “To enforce weapons with magical Intent. He is the one who should be explaining de details, but I quite liked the idea and Rog and I gave the two of them permission to experiment with it. It is a prototype, so to speak.”

Turgon’s gaze wandered over to the two smiths, and now, as Enerdhil had stepped aside, he could see the sword, too. It was beautiful, he realized, before a wave of shame hit him at the knowledge that his first impression of a deadly weapon had been its beauty. But even at the second glance, there was no denying it.

The smooth steel of the blade gleamed almost white in the sunlight, and there were intricate carvings adorning its cross-guard and ricasso. Even the hilt was run through with gold and something that looked like ivory, ruel-bone maybe, and at last the pommel was decorated with two white gems, one on each side.

It did not look like a weapon that was meant to be stained with blood and gore, but then again, Turgon hoped that there wouldn’t be much need for excessive bloodshed in the next time, altogether.

As if he knew why Turgon was hesitating, Angûr wordlessly held it out to him at the hilt, an encouraging smile on his lips.

Turgon took it, swung it around by way of trial. It was a lot shorter than every sword everyone had ever forged for him, but inherently way better balanced and easier to wield so that Turgon, who had never been the most skilled swordsman after all, could easily forgive the slight loss of reach.

“It is beautifully balanced”, he said, complementary, but it must have been obvious that he still didn’t quite understand the intent of a gift such as this one, and Enerdhil cleared his throat.

“That is all Angûr’s work. It is a marvellous weapon on its own, one worthy for a king, in times of peace and war alike”, he said. “But its true strength, and the true reason a simple jewel-smith such as myself decided to get involved in a project like this, lies in those carvings, you see.”

He gestured for Turgon to hold the blade steady and ran his nimble fingers over the delicate runes that were etched into the steel. Turgon noticed his voice becoming more certain and clear the more he spoke about his work, and listened intently.

“They are not only for decoration”, he said. “Those runes at the top bind the sword to its wielder and their purpose, and they are meant to protect them, to a certain degree. They absorb some of the force of impact above the blade, meaning that blocking and even hard hits are easier on the hands. It is fairly practical and works quite well, you can try it out later, if you wish.”

“That seems practical, indeed”, Turgon considered. “And those runes on the blade? What are they for?”

“They”, Enerdhil said. “Are the truly fun part. And the experimental part, for we are actually not quite sure if and how they will work, in the end.

They are meant to protect the wielder from foes, the lowly henchmen of the Enemy specifically, and as you can read in the wording of the runes, they are meant to deal orcs great damage in particular.”

“Meant to?”

“Well, we had no orcs to try it out on, so… What exactly will happen remains a mystery. But that is the fun part of magic, after all. You just light the spark, set in some gems to keep it glowing, and what happens after that is out of your hands.”

Turgon did not find this very encouraging, but the young smith sounded so pleased with himself, his eyes gleaming with an expression of pure creative energy that was so particularly Noldorin that Turgon couldn’t help but be intrigued by the magnificence of the creation. He swung it around some more, getting a feel for its astoundingly light weight in his hand, and asked a lot of questions that Enerdhil eagerly answered.

“I like it”, he decided in the end, genuinely. “Thank you for making this for me, I’m sure it will accomplish great deeds when it is next needed, although I hope that this day still lies in the distant future.”

“I don’t doubt it, my King”, Enerdhil answered with a bow, not elaborating which part of the sentence he was agreeing to.

“Oh and Enerdhil”, Turgon added, as Angûr was sheathing the blade with the look of a parent who was sending his child out on their own for the first time. “I may know someone who will undoubtedly love this idea. If you ever think about improving on your prototype, better make one for the Lord Ecthelion as well.”

[sebs-studies]

29.3.23

Ramen and a lot of studying today (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

[dummerjan]

Song asks!

1, 14, 19

1. A song that reminds you of your childhood There are so many possible answers and I am already overthinking this way too much and for far too long. Let's settle for one Astrid Lindgren related song, even though I could name well over a dozen (be that in German or Swedish).

14. A song to sing to the sun What makes a song singing to the sun worthy? This is hard but maybe First Day of My Life? I don't even really know why but it makes me think of sunshine.

19. A song that you can imagine listening to in an abandoned church (if it isn’t Hozier, I'm judging you, but whatever) I do have a Hozier answer actually. When I think abandoned church, Hore Abbey comes to mind which... I think counts as church? At least as a monastery with a church. And what it lacks in church, it certainly makes up for in abandoned.

Thank you for asking. :) I hope you are having a lovely Sunday. <3

[zoe-oneesama]

1. I really just don’t like how you shit on Chloe in your Au considering that she is technically the Main character now because of her having the ladybug earrings.

2. As for unlikable characters exist. Yeah they do but they usually don’t have a really good back story.

Thomas give her a sad backstory, took that away and made her worse ??? It makes no sense. Especially if it was supposed to be a unlikable character. her backstory isn’t an excuse for her actions but yall hate her for the actions and at the same time don’t want her to change.

(Not only that but he ended replacing her with a very boring and rushed character like Zoé.)

Basically what I’m saying it’s just weird for yall to hate a character that much.

I think it's really weird for y'all to be so defensive of a fictional person, yet here we are.

Perhaps you were mislead because her "hero" form was the title of the AU, but uh, Scarlet Lady was never about Chloe. That's why she didn't, like, grow or anything and why we left her several times to focus on Adrien and Marinette. Having the Ladybug Earrings does not automatically make someone the main character, she's the tritagonist at best. And canonically, she's just a side character with too much screen time.

But even if she was the main character, so what? Scarlet Lady's tone is comical, it was never going to go deep (except in the Finale, kinda) and Chloe was never going to get the 5 Hour Youtube Essay Deep Cut in Comic Form about the Wonderful Person She Had the Potential to Become that viewers like you seem to be craving so badly.

And we fundamentally disagree about Chloe's backstory. It's not a good backstory, it's pretty basic, not even entirely unique to Chloe in the very story it's stuck in, and removing it changes nothing about her or her personality and motivations in the long run. It's used as a weak excuse that's only brought up at random to the point where even canon doesn't buy it anymore.

Though I'm not sure why you think that unlikeable characters can't have sympathetic backstories, the point is usually that despite going through the worst and despite the fact that it's entirely possible if things were different for them that the character could've been someone entirely different (and therefore "likeable"), none of those things erase the things they've done or make them more likeable. It just makes them kinda sad on top of it.

But that doesn't really apply to Chloe since taking out her garbage birth giver still leaves her with Andre who did a good job ruining her all on his own.

Anyway, sorry for the rant, but to wrap it up, sorry you don't like how I do things around here, no one's keeping you here if you don't wanna be faced with it or whatever.

[blood-smiles]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 ᡣ𐭩₊⋆

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 TW MDNI Fake religion . angel being creepy . profanity and small blurbs of NSFW . M!preg to some degree?

Eyes, many eyes, all watched you silently, feathers fell around you in a circle, the beautiful fluffy bird like wings curled around your form, a gorgeous man stood in front of you, eyes alike to those of a prism shining under sun, a kaleidoscope of colors reflecting off his beautiful hues and back into your own (e/c) irises.

He held you ever so gently, his fingers trembling as he softly caressed your face, his long ashen hair flowing down his back, alike to smooth silk.

He opened his mouth to speak but as soon as he was about to form a sentence your eyes snapped open.

ᝰ.ᐟ Your friend poked you with their finger, waking you up from your surreal dream and back into reality.

You were thinking about angels again, weren’t you?— They had been appearing in your dreams for the past few days, strangely they always centered around this man, a beautiful man.

After waking up you couldn’t remember anything else but his stunning crystalline eyes, those rainbow eyes were burned into the back of your head, you knew that he was beautiful, could it be your guardian angel visiting you?

ᝰ.ᐟ You had been assigned an essay on the topic of the heavenly protectors, your professor wanting to have a change of pace and focus on something more niche.

There were limited sources, so you had to dig deeper.

You had been looking at links as of late, locations that centered on religious themes and creatures.

ᝰ.ᐟ Lucky for you a new location appeared on your browser, what seemed to be a library that nuns and priests went to often, to study and solidify their fate.

ᝰ.ᐟ You walked into the library quietly, clutching your messenger bag close to your chest, your feet tapped against the pristine white flooring.

ᝰ.ᐟ This library was large, huge even. You had no idea how you never noticed it, the structure being a behemoth among other buildings.

The architecture of this place was simply breathtaking, your eyes drinking in every inch and centimeter of the temple, you knew you came to the right place when you noticed cherubs intricately carved into the white plaster above you.

ᝰ.ᐟ You were too much in awe to realize that you were about to crash into a person, instantly hitting their chest with your face and falling back onto the floor.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere!Angel let out a faint breath of air when he saw you, his heart beginning to beat rapidly, he had found you. He had finally found you!

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel helped you up immediately, gently taking your divine hands in his own, holding them as if they were golden 3 carat chains.

“Oh my! Are you alright, dear?”

ᝰ.ᐟ You thanked Yandere! Angel, your jaw slightly ajar from the beauty of the man, Yandere!Angel laughed lightly, covering the lower half of his face with his hand bashfully.

“You can take a picture so it lasts longer, hm?”

ᝰ.ᐟ Your eyes drifted down to his neck, star shaped scars lining the circumference of his throat over his skin. How strange.

ᝰ.ᐟ You cleared your throat, deciding to ignore that comment all together, taking out your small note pad you read from the pages, asking Yandere!Angel if the library had any books on your selection.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel’s brows raised, he knew you were here for something.. But about his own kin? It seems that he was guided to you and you were to him, just like faith.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel took your hand and ushered you to follow him, a slight flush centering on his cheeks. the both of you ventured to the very back of the temple like library, the undercover angel pushed a book case with impressive strength to a side.

A cloud of dust came off the shelves, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth and nose from the puff of dust. 

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel beat you to it as he gently put his hands over your face, protecting you from inhaling grime particles, the unexpected and honestly intimate gesture making you gaze up at him quizzically.

“Wouldn’t want you getting sick, dearest.”

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere!Angel couldn’t believe he had just touched you, he had touched YOU. Ecstasy flooded into his system, the golden blood surging in his veins boiling.

His face twitched, eyes behind eyelids making small movements, a nervous smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he dusted your shoulders off.

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel took out a few books, blowing the dust away with a flick of his hand, he grasped the human leather cover, staring at it for a moment before handing the heavy enciclopedia to you.

“This is the most in depth book we have here, it isn’t every day anyone asks for books such as these.”

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel watched as you opened the pages, tracing the book with your hands, he shuddered, would you touch him like that too?

He gently plucked a feather from the wings attached to his back, gently putting the soft feather in your hand, he opened his eyes for a split second.

Beautiful. Breath taking crystalline eyes, those eyes. You could recognize them anywhere! Those were the eyes from the man in your dream!

“This feather is from an angel, Seraph if you may. Treasure it, keep it with you at all times and it will keep you safe.”

ᝰ.ᐟ You stared at his eyes, it was like they were eating at you, just who was he? It would be silly to think he would appear in your dreams.. Wouldn’t it..?

“..Lucien.”

“Huh?”

“Call me Lucien, (Y/N).”

ᝰ.ᐟ How did he know your name? You never told him your name.. you gave him a funny look, you smiled awkwardly while turning on your heel to make a hasty departure.

You glanced back over your shoulder, a bad habit you had developed as a result of walking home alone during night time.

ᝰ.ᐟ Your breath caught in your throat, Lucien. That same strange librarian was no human anymore, he stood in front of a window, he lifted his hand slowly waving to you, a nice flush tinting his cheekbones.

Long white wings adorned his back, lush feathers falling onto the pristine floor of the temple. A golden halo behind his head, circulating and hovering in clock wise motions. Small wings that hid under his hair twitched and fluttered as they unfolded, looking unbearably soft and pretty.

“..What the fuck..?”

ᝰ.ᐟ You gasped to yourself as you stared at him, he smiled wider, you had noticed, he knew you had noticed! And you didn’t go crazy!

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel was delighted to make the discovery that you weren’t driven to insanity while seeing his half form. most humans would have been having seizures on the floor right about now, but you just blinked a few times and turned back around, shoulders tense and rigid.

ᝰ.ᐟ He shivered in delight, humans were at times so adorable— Well more like you were the cutest little thing he has ever seen! 

ᝰ.ᐟ He just wanted to grab you and tuck your little self into his nest and have many many children! He hasn’t had his first batch of eggs yet.. he was going to be plump with eggs soon.

ᝰ.ᐟ the both of you were mates! Yes, yes there was no other explanation for these events, perhaps [ REDACTED ] had finally blessed him!

ᝰ.ᐟ Yandere! Angel ‘s face turned a deeper shade of red, he could swear there were little hearts coming out of him.

He held his face in his hands, his cheeks felt agonizingly hot, he put his hands to work, trying to bat his face a little to keep the blushing down.

ᝰ.ᐟ You were safe. You had taken his feather. Basically a natural tracking device, and soon he would work his way into your life little by little.. Guardian Angel or not he was going to take you as his.

“My wings..? You want to touch them? Well of course, darling! All of me is yours.”

(Touching an angels wings is an intimate act where mates solidify their mating bond. Discretion advised.)

[octoberautumnbox]

Consider: Yubin who's your seatmate and is very professional in school but every night at 10pm you get the raciest, sauciest, spiciest nudes from her with no warning

Hell Week

tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, that's p much all anyone needs to know i think

Word count: 5.5k holy shit

a/n: jeez howd it get this long :nolookk: oh btw i took some liberties with the prompt not that u care heres the fuckin yubin fic :DDDD

~~~

A hand lays itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact nearly making you jump. You turn around and find Yubin clutching a book to her chest with a gentle look on her features. Gesture over to the chair across from you, all the while trying to get your heart rate back under control. 

“My bad, didn't see you were locked in.” She gets into the chair left of you anyway and turns her book to the same page as yours. “How's it going?”

You stretch and groan to let out as much of your tiredness as you can, paying just a bit of mind to everyone else in the library doing pretty much the same. “Dunno. Around twenty minutes ago I accepted I'm retaking this class. What's up with you?”

She giggles while her eyes scan across the paragraphs talking about desert flora and types of precipitation. She rests her cheek on her palm, “I still have a bit of fight in me, but I'm losing hope. I was hoping I could borrow some from you.”

“Sorry, Yubin,” you whisper with every ounce of sympathy you had, “fresh out.” You return to your own book, yet all you do is run your eyes over the same page over and over without much staying in your head. 

A cursory look over to your left shows you scholar-mode Gong Yubin: focused, sharp, and serious. Not that it ever got in the way of you two being friends, but when she gets like this, you know better than to underestimate her–she's capable of plotting the downfall of kingdoms if she set her mind to it. 

However, at the same time, you notice her distress, then immediately notice how well she hides it. It's the same slight crease of her eyebrows in freshman orientation, after midterms in Linguistics 103, and when she finally stopped putting off Geology 102. The realization dawns on you: the situation is dire now that she asks for your help while she's like this, so how could you let her down now?

“Bet you I can score higher,” you challenge her. You have no good reason to issue such a proposition, but if it means giving her support how it matters, whatever embarrassing thing she'll make you do is more than worth it.

It piques her interest and a smile pulls up the corners of her lips. She side-eyes you with an excitement she didn't have just two minutes prior, and you know it worked. “If I win,” she announces as loud as she's allowed to, “make me thick tofu stew. The right way.” 

“Really? That's it?” Then you rebut with just as much fervor, “If I win, you do three of my essays in comparative lit next semester.”

“Now hold the fuck on,” she stumbles, her eyes grown wide and her smile grown toothy, “if you're gonna raise the stakes like that, I need to think of something else!”

Your phone and hers vibrate at the same time, and your screen reads “Get your ass over to Geog.” You both pack your bags and head off to your last Geology class before finals together, and as your book takes its place in the darkness of your backpack, “Fine, but I get to change mine too when I hear yours,” and the spring in her step as you walk tells you it's mission accomplished. 

~~~

In hindsight, it really wasn’t all that bad. The class review session your professor held that day helped you nail down just enough of whatever the fuck sleet might be, and while you're certain it isn't flying colors, your grade at least wouldn't be red. 

Coming out of the exam room, you spot Yubin just seconds before she finds you, and your good deed pays for itself as she skips to approach. 

“Got a good feeling?” There was no point in asking other than that you had to hear it from her, though the wide grin on her face was proof enough. 

“Yeah, I think barely,” she sways cutely from side to side, “and don't think you're off the hook!” She hits you light on the arm, and the most shining feature you can’t ignore is her eyebrows without any sign or symptom of the crease. 

“Not over ‘til the fat lady sings, Gong Yubin,” though you know she's already won. “Three whole essays against… Haven't you decided yet?”

“No, not yet, but the bet is still on!”

You relent, “Fine, fine. Anyway, Nakyoung’s treating the gang to drinks tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, busy. Laundry and stuff.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and you can tell she’s giddy about what her grade is going to turn out to be. It’s a sight for sore eyes, especially ones that have seen too many grainy tectonic plates and water cycle diagrams. “And why do you insist on full-naming her?”

“I know someone whose name sounds the exact same. As far as I’m concerned, our Nakyoung’s the other Naky.” You place your hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the doorway, and she walks with you without a second thought.

“Mean. You’ll have to introduce me to this first Naky, then.” You slide into rhythm with her gait, and it hits you just how relieved you are for Yubin’s worries to be over. 

It seems such a waste, you think, that laundry is the only thing keeping her away from celebrating, so as you walk out of the Social Sciences building, you bargain one more time: “We’ll be there all night, so just come by when you’re done. I speak for everyone when I say we want you to come, please?”

She giggles again, “I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I don’t wanna be there, either. Plus,” she admits defeatedly, “we’re getting the results later, and God knows I’d rather not be alone when it comes.” 

~~~

“Hey, where's Yubin?” Nakyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and shoves another mug of beer into your hand. It's a welcome gesture, and it takes all of two and a half seconds for you to down half of it. 

“She has laundry,” you nearly shout back your reply above the music. “Said she'll drop by if she has time.”

Nakyoung makes to yell another reply right into your ear, but decides to pull you away into one of the quieter booths in the bar. “She's a goody-two-shoes, no? Laundry, oh please. Kaede hasn't done laundry in two years.” She takes a gulp of her own beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Hey. She studied her ass off for that test. I made a bet with her and it looks like she has high spirits, but I honestly dunno what I'd do if she fails.”

Your friend takes your chin up with her finger and you realize how pensive an expression was sitting on your face. “This is Gong Yubin. You know she'll kill it.” Nakyoung flashes a confident smile, and it reassures you almost more than your own trust in Yubin herself. “You drunk yet?”

“Nah, not getting shitfaced without Yubin.”

“Cute. You know she likes you too?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Nakyoung. Go steal Seoyeon's boyfriend while you're at it.”

“I wish; she has him under lock and key. But I wouldn't really mind both of them,” she muses, eyeing Seoyeon in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Just then, the devil strolls in through the front door. “Hi! You weren't kidding, it's really loud in here,” Yubin exclaims with her hands shielding her ears as she adjusts to the noise.

She takes Nakyoung's seat–you whip your head around and find Nakyoung at the dancefloor, with Seoyeon grinding against her–and picks up Nakyoung's old mug. She takes a careful sip and ends it with a relieved ahhhh, before setting it back down and getting to business. She leans in like keeping a secret, though she can't hide her toothy grin. “Have you seen your grade yet?”

“It's out?!” You fumble for your phone, and the second it lights up, cold runs through your veins–the email notification is the first thing at the top of the screen. Meanwhile, Yubin calmly slides her phone across the table to you. She asks “I read yours, you read mine?” with the sweetest smile on her face, again with the slight crease on her eyebrows.

Calm your nerves, silence the alarms blaring in your head. You know she did well, absolutely certain. However, it still doesn't soothe you enough; not until you see the grades for yourself. So, as your thumb hovers over her email, your heart nearly beats out of your chest, only to see–

“You got 87 percent,” Yubin states in the blandest, matter-of-fact tone you've ever heard. Her eyes move left and right over the same spot on your phone, making ultimate certain that she's reading it right. Once she is, her tone softens just enough, “Yeah, 87 percent. Wow, that's good,” she sighs with relief, “... Hard to beat.”

Now her turn, you peek at her score. doing the same making sure, and then some. When you read it for the fifth time, you kick yourself mentally for being so worried and having such little trust in the genius that is Gong Yubin. “Goddamn, 95 percent.”

Her eyes widen like sinkholes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It almost doesn't matter that you hand her back her phone; she snatches it back anyway. Her disbelief chips away at itself with every run through of the email she reads for herself, and when she's finally done, returns her shocked gaze back to you.

“You were that scared of three essays?” you joke. The beer tastes sweeter now that your worries have gone, and as if all six septillion kilograms of the world is off your shoulders. 

“No, three essays is easy,” she taunts, but immediately her voice takes on a gentler tone, “so I win, right?”

You scoff at her haughtiness, but your relief triumphs over all. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”

“... I wanna go home. This is enough excitement for one day.”

“Alright, let me take you. Tell me in the cab what you want for winning, though?”

“Sure,” she says with a tiny smile.

~~~

“So,” she declares. She catches her breath, and her face is overcome with a subtle red flush, “about the bet.”

“Yeah, about the bet.”

“I want…” and she hesitates. The cab runs over a mild speed bump, and the resulting sway seemingly knocks her completely out of focus. She gathers her resolve once more, as if every time she tries to speak she drops it and has to pick it up again. 

“You want…?”

It's a good couple minutes of her breathing heavily, and your concern shows itself for her and whatever she has planned for you.

“Is it illegal? What could possibly be so bad that you're hesitating this much?”

“No, no, shut up. I'm working on it.” She takes one last deep breath, even placing a hand on her heart to steady it. “I want… a cum tribute.”

“... A cum tribute.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to…?”

“I'll send you a photo. And do it on that.”

“You want a photo of–”

“Video.”

“You–video?”

“I want a video. Of you. Cumming on a photo. My photo. I'll send it to you.”

There's no way the cab driver doesn't think this is weird. Then again, he has an earphone in, so he might not be listening in at all. You get the feeling Yubin doesn't care either way, completely focused on you. 

“... Alright. You want it this bad, fine.”

“Good. Um,” she follows, “sorry in advance. It's gonna be my first time… taking a photo like this.” She refocuses her attention to the buildings whizzing by outside as she says it, the telltale sign the conversation is over. Still, it lingers in your head for a little while: Yubin's first time. 

~~~

“Look, I'm sorry,” she sighs, “just come up with me? Please?”

You're standing with her outside her dorm, all the while the meter ticks away in the cab. The driver waits expectantly inside for you to get back, but Yubin's fingers wrapped around your sleeve make for a very difficult decision. 

“Okay, okay, just let me pay the cab driver,” you concede, but as soon as you sum up the fare, Yubin snatches it from you and brings it over herself. She and the driver exchange a few words, ending with her waving him off and him leaving her in the dust. She waddles back with her signature grin: the one that tries and fails to hide her excitement. 

“Can I just ask why you want it so bad?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. Now shush,” as you both make the now-silent trek up the four flights of stairs to her floor and room. 

Upon entering, you immediately notice it's nicer than most dorm rooms: huge space, carpet floors, a big window, and two double-size beds, not to mention its own bathroom. It makes you stop and wonder if you ever glossed over any signs that Yubin or her family might come from old money.

“Uhh, give me a few minutes to get ready. The bed on the right is mine, make yourself at home. WiFi password by the light switch. Kaede doesn't like her stuff messed with, so steer clear.” Yubin then disappears into the bathroom, and you lay yourself down on her bed. You're made aware of how you sink comfortably into the memory foam, and of the disarming fragrance that wafts from her bedsheets and pillowcases. She's always smelled like this, you recall, but it's rather nice, you finally admit. 

“Hey,” Yubin attempts. She sits on the edge of her bed next to you, wearing a set of pajamas and no makeup at all. You always knew Yubin was a pretty girl, God knows how many times she's been asked out, but seeing her like this is new; her allure draws you in with a smile and an embrace. Shit, was Nakyoung right? Do you like her? 

“So… How do you want me?” She avoids your eyes and touches her fingertips together, a blush forming on her cheeks. 

“Do you… Do you have a tie?”

Her ears perk up, “Yeah, hold on,” and she retrieves a thin, striped necktie from her dresser. She places it around her neck, her fingers delicately maneuvering the fabric into an intricate-looking knot, and when she's done, she presents herself to you. 

“Take off your top, Yubin,” you tell her, and she hands you her phone with the camera already on. Point it at her, making sure the flash is off, and start taking pictures one by one. 

She pushes aside the tie and fiddles with the top button. It's effortless how she undoes it, and she pulls the collar apart to show you more of her. She unbuttons the next, then the next, all the while showing you her smooth skin. With half the buttons undone, she shows off her chest, showing nothing but skin underneath her top.

You take a moment to catch your breath, swallow your spit. “Are you sure about this, Yubin?” 

“Yeah… Just keep going, please.” She undoes her fifth button at the very bottom, revealing her midriff and making you salivate. Must be heaven to kiss her there, when she snaps you out of it, “Are you still taking pictures?” Am I that distracting?” Look up to her, find her with the same sweet smile on her face but with a new blush decorating her cheeks.

Her last button is her fourth, and it's undone before you know it. She keeps her pajama top on a little bit longer, covering her chest a little bit more, and finally she shrugs it off one shoulder. It's nothing but everything all at once, and the split second your self-control wavers is the exact moment you leap in.

You drop her phone somewhere on the mattress; both your hands grip her shoulders as your lips capture hers. She leans into the kiss, wrapping her fingers on the back of your neck, and tiny moans escape her amidst smooches that get louder the hungrier she gets. 

Pull the top off her other shoulder, and she finally strips it all off. However, you can't even enjoy the sight, not yet, as you draft down from her lips to her slender neck, leaving a trail of kisses on your way. She runs her fingers through your hair before holding you in place, all the while leading your free hand to her chest. 

She sucks air in through her teeth, “That's really good, just like that…” she moans as her head tilts to allow more access to her neck. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and you feel yourself getting addicted, but not as much as to the softness of her skin. 

She pulls you down onto the bed, and you find yourself leaning over her. Yubin lies under you, watching you intently and waiting for what you'll do next. Her tie sits right in the valley of her tits, and it drives you wild. Take a nipple in between your teeth while you fondle her other breast. She breathes heavy in pleasure, wordlessly asking for more and more of your attention and love. Her fist closes on your hair as she pushes you further onto her chest, her other hand hopelessly tugging on your pants.

It's all the message you need from her: your pants go, then your underwear, then everything else. Your cock stands hard in her sights, and the way her fingers wrap around your length is nothing short of heaven. 

“Do… do you wanna do it with me?” Her question is purely innocent, without a single hint of malice in her voice. She rubs your shaft slowly, sending waves of tantalizing pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Do you have condoms?”

“... Kaede will forgive me.” She crawls down the ladder, picks out a square plastic wrapper from her roommate's dresser, and hurries to get back to you. The smile on her face as she comes up the ladder again is one of, if not the most beautiful things you've ever seen. 

You guide her as she puts the condom on you, and the sensation of her fingers gently unrolling the rubber along your length only makes you more impatient. Finally, you hook your fingers on the garter of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips to accommodate you. The fabric slides off her so easily, revealing her long, smooth legs that she seems desperate to have you in between of. 

“Go easy, okay? I told you…” 

“Yeah, your first time. I'll take care of you,” you reassure her. Line up your throbbing cock against her slick heat, feel her palm on your cheek, watch her flash that killer smile again. She bites her lip, and while you know it isn't on purpose, it makes her look sexier all the same. 

Slide your cock into her, making sure to go slow. She shuts her eyes harder with every inch she takes of you, and when she moves her hands to your forearms and grips tight, it reminds you like a looping cycle: “Go easy, go easy.”

So you go slow and steady, staving off your lust for the woman giving herself to you. Each thrust into her sex is careful and calculated, though by the second you feel your calculations going awry. She pants at every good spot in her cavern you happen to drag across, earning her little admissions of newly found pleasure in the form of mewls and moans like a song you’d never tire of. 

“Faster, please…? You’re so–ugh, fuck…” And the way she pleads flips a switch in you; plant your elbows into the memory foam on either side of her head while she takes your face in her hands. Yubin pulls you in for a kiss and it means the world to her when you grow careless with your lovemaking.

“Fuck, fuck, not too fast, just right, mmm,” each time you push into her cunt. The way she mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, the way she holds on for dear life and leaves scratches all the way down your back, she takes up every single thought going through your head: Yubin, Yubin, Yubin…

You scarcely notice how she's scratching your harder, gripping you tighter, grinding against you faster–it’s much too late to finally hear her warning, “I'm close, I'm close, oh fuck, fuck, aaahhhh!” as she explodes with you still inside her. Her pussy clenches around your cock in all the best ways, and you savor the feeling as she rides out her orgasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grips you by the shoulders, though all you can see is how her tits bounce with every jerk that runs through her body. Yubin's eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open, a prolonged, deep moan gracing your ears as she ambles closer and closer to spent. 

Take a moment, let her breathe. Every gasp of air in her lungs is like a blessing, and each one steadily brings her from beyond heaven back to you. Her hands fall to her sides as she pants out her delirium and replaces it with tiredness, and once she's stable she flashes you that killer smile again. It pulls on the corners of her mouth, showing the tiniest amount of teeth, though her eyes are nowhere near open. Plant a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, then receive her giggles once you stay and rest right on her pulse. 

“You good? Still alive?”

All she can do is nod, having had every last ounce of her strength sapped. She lays motionless under you, save for her chest rising and falling with her breathing, and you know she looks to you for comfort and security. You take another moment to bask in her afterglow; she's never looked more gorgeous. 

“Hey,” she whispers, and you swear it's the most tired you've ever heard her, or anyone for that matter. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Are you sure you're good?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” She pulls you back down and plants a kiss on your cheek. Her lips linger for a second, as if she's taking in your scent made hers. You stay like this for a good while, just enjoying each other's presence, relishing in the warmth of a body that gave itself up for the other. You don't even notice when you slumped over onto the mattress beside her, but her head on your chest felt like the rightest thing in the world.

“We're not done, by the way,” she prods.

“What? Why not? Aren't you tired?”

“‘Tired’ isn't part of the bet. I still want that tribute.”

And you remember, you have a job to do, a debt to pay. It’s between your common sense and your lust for the hottest girl in the world right now, and there is a clear winner. 

Pull back from her, off of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. Firm and resolute, tell her: “Fine, on your knees.” The flush on her face deepens to an igneous red, and she scrambles to the floor in front of you.

“You're so pretty, Yubin,” you muse as you point her camera back to her face. Make sure the flash is off, and once you push the big red button to record, your other hand immediately takes her cheek and guides her to your tip. 

Yubin's eyes flutter shut as she inches her lips closer and closer to your cock. The first contact is heavenly; just gentle kisses and licks from a complete novice pretending to be an expert at this sort of stuff. The way her tongue glides over your shaft, the way she plants kisses all over your cock with the tiniest sucks, the way she does all of this with her eyes gracefully shut makes for a killer video for her to get off to later. A blowjob from a girl like this comes once in a lifetime, so you resolve to give her everything she'd ever want from a tribute like this. 

A moan escapes you, and she picks up that she's doing it right. With your subconscious approval, the hand on her cheek pulling further her in, she takes your tip in her mouth. Her tongue works overtime in running all over the head, paying special attention to your slit, making absolutely sure her spit coats wherever she can reach. She takes in more and more of your shaft, pressing her tongue on the underside of your cock as she does, all the while her cheeks hollow out like her life depends on it. 

Tiny vibrations from her throat only add to the pleasure, sending shivers up your spine and your hand to the back of her head. For the first time, she opens her eyes, and the sight is something to behold: she looks up at you with the biggest, roundest, most pleading eyes, the epitome of cuteness if not for your cock she oh-so-diligently services to get what she wants. 

Yubin takes you in just a bit deeper, slightly turning her head and savoring the way your length fills her mouth, when you hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She pulls back abruptly as a tear forms in the corner of her eye, and you have half a mind to pull out entirely to make sure she's okay. Instead, she never lets you–she takes your cock again, shooting you another pleading look before she shuts her eyes and bobs her head onto your cock again and again. 

Luckily, you pick up on her message; Snake your fingers through her hair, grab a fistful, make her yours. A moan rises from her throat once again, and she steadies herself with her hands on your thighs in preparation. She's ready. 

Pull her in as far as she can take, and it's a good most of your shaft before she gags again. Offer her no breathing room, bob her head onto your cock over and over, all the while more of her slobber coats your length, some of it falling off her lips and onto her chest and lap. She never fights, only takes–soon the gagging is replaced by an obedient, rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck than you're sure even she'd find hot if she could think straight. Instead, her phone picks up every sight and sound for her to enjoy later, while you both enjoy each other now. 

It's everything all at once: the sight of Gong Yubin's plump, sexy lips around your shaft, the feeling of her tongue relentlessly dragging over every inch of your cock, the sound of your tip meeting her throat again and again while her groans fight their way out. “Yubin… I'm close,” you confess, but with her eyes still shut and her tongue still going crazy all over you, you don't think she heard. So make the decision yourself: yank her hard off your cock, rub your shaft right against her delicious lips. Once she exits her daze, she takes your dick in her hand and rubs all across the length. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes and her lips give off the slightest tremble, but she's resolute in what she wants to earn from you. 

It takes no time at all until you reach your limit. It's the best handjob anyone has ever probably given, but it's that one last kiss from her, right on your tip, that sends you over the edge. One last groan, one last jerk, one last tug of her hair, and your orgasm hits. Your cum shoots out in ropes, all landing on her face and tits. She's determined to receive everything from you, so it's only right to give her exactly what she wants. She shuts her eyes again, but her mouth stays wide open to catch whatever she can of it–she never stops jerking you off even as your cum falls onto her eyelids, her nose bridge, her forehead, her chin. Yubin savors every moment and every drop, burning the memory of bliss into her mind as you coat her face with your love. 

Your orgasm finally dies down, and you realize just how much she squeezed out of you. You're sure no one has ever looked lewder, your cum smeared all over her face, yet she proves you wrong when she picks up a fingerful of it to take into her mouth. She licks her lips, apparently loving the taste, while you love the sight of her acting so sultry for you. 

Stumble back onto the bed, take Yubin with you. Both of you are out of strength, breathing heavy, and in the middle of processing that you just painted her face with cum–that she asked you to paint her face with cum. You barely notice the stars swirling in your eyes, but your sense of the situation comes back just quick enough to avoid things getting awkward. 

“I think I wanna shower, so you should wash up first,” you mumble, still staring at her beige ceiling, and you can feel she's panting and doing the same without even seeing her. 

Wordlessly she gets up and her carpet-muffled footsteps grow quieter as she heads to the bathroom. A door shuts, a handle creaks, a shower gushes to life. Your brain sits idle, making no attempts to form thoughts other than acknowledging the shower turning off and on while she bathes. It's calming in its own way, you suppose–taking a bath is one of the normalest things in the world–as if what you just did with her was a close runner-up. 

An unknowable amount of time passes, and a fresh, citrus-scented Yubin emerges from the bathroom again. She dries her hair with her towel as she makes her way to her hair blower, but not before shooting you a gorgeous smile and a head tilt to the bathroom to let you know it's your turn. 

~~~

Leaving the bathroom yourself, you find a dark bedroom, save only for a yellow lamp shining against a nearby wall. Yubin is sitting up in her bed and scrolling on her phone, and once she spots you, she beckons you over.

“Look, funny,” she whispers with a giggle, and she shows you a clip of a guy much too excited about a truck looking like Optimus Prime. 

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm pretty tired,” you attempt. In no way is this a lie, and you're sure she's tired too. You bet she wants nothing more than to finally go to sleep and end what should be a perfect night on a high note. 

“Totally,” she agrees, “come on in. It's cold.” She lifts up the covers and looks over to you expectantly. Not that it dumbfounds you, but it throws you for a slight loop; she literally just said it was cold. 

“Wh– I'm heading out, is what I mean. You should get your rest, too.”

Yubin's eyes take on a softer expression, “Oh, you're not staying over?”

“... Did you want me to?”

“Yeah…?”

Your eyes lock with hers for what seems like half a second and a million hours at the same time. You're stuck in place, still in a stalemate of a staring contest with her, and you're not sure even she knows what the two of you want out of the situation. Her expression turns into one of concern, and her arm holding up the covers falters just a bit. Fuck, you think, window's closing.

Make your choice, have no regrets. Get in the covers with her, and she lets them drop to snuggle up to you. Once the both of you settle, her head on your chest and yours on one of the fluffiest pillows in the world, she blurts out quietly: “You fucked up, you know.”

She navigates to her gallery and finds your video of her, and skips to a part near the end. “Your dumb ass stopped recording just as you were about to cum.” And the video did show that: Yubin rubbing your cock, eyes shut, tongue out and ready for your load, and the video stops. 

“Shit, sorry–” 

“This wasn't the bet. I wanted a cum tribute, not a facial. You need to send me a proper one,” she muses, “or take a proper video.”

Now that stuns you. You wonder how interesting her ceiling is for you to stare at it so much, but she snaps you out of it partway through by snaking a hand up your shirt and settling it right above your heart. Reciprocate–it only feels right–wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. An exhale from both of you, and one last exchange of words: 

“Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Can you go again that soon?”

“If it's you, of course.”

“Don't guys need to recharge?”

“... I'll handle it.”

~~~

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆Headcanon#3𓏲

(Warnings: Contains mpreg (bxg pairing, YES, boy x fem reader), and matriarchal themes/gender role reverse so don't interact if you are not comfortable!! ‎♡‧₊˚)

♥︎ Headcanon #2

🍭"Narin, just one more paragraph, c'mon. Then we can go get some ice cream."

"You know, you're the cruellest wife anyone could have. Making me do assignments in this condition."

"What condition? You're fine, Narin. You're not even the one typing your essay. Just one more paragraph, c'mon, you can do it." He acts as if he's in his last months, when he’s only three weeks in. After another exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in, and you closed the laptop with relief.

"It's your last semester. Just get it done, and then your lifelong dream of staying home will come true."

"Are you taking me out for that ice cream or not?" You chuckled, getting up and offering him a hand. "Let's go."

Narin finally got what he wanted after so long, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of university. Still, the thought of becoming a father—of your child—filled him with uncontrollable excitement. He just prayed that your family wouldn’t cast an evil eye on the baby. Hmph! Lost in thought, he unconsciously placed his hands over his stomach as you drove, unaware of the silent storm brewing within him.

Meanwhile, your mind was all over the place. First, an unexpected husband, and now a child on the way?! You couldn't stop worrying about the future. You never imagined yourself as a mother, especially not with a husband like Narin, who could barely take care of himself. Maybe he would mature once the baby was born... or would you just have two kids to look after instead? How did this even happen? Weren’t you both careful? Wasn’t he taking pills, too? Well, it didn’t matter now. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, hands protectively resting on his stomach, looking content and as happy as ever. You sighed and decided to put on some music to drown out the spiralling thoughts. Soon enough, you both reached the ice cream shop.

Months passed, and Narin’s university days came to an end. It had been three months into his pregnancy when one day, you came home to find him curled up on the sofa with Prince. There was no usual excitement, no running up to greet you like he always did.

🍭"Narin? You okay? Is something wrong?" By now, the panic in your voice was impossible to hide. You gently made him sit up, cupping his face, and your heart sank as you saw his puffy, red eyes. He was still sniffling, avoiding your gaze, his usual brightness nowhere to be found.

"Narin? You're making me worried. Tell me, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-just-what if you... leave me?! Does your family think I'm not competent enough to bear your child?! Because I feel like it!" His voice cracked with emotion, and you could hear the frustration in every word. Where was all this anger coming from?

"What are you talking about? Who said that?! And why on earth would I leave you?" You could feel your own heart racing. Narin might be childish and immature at times, but he was still your husband, and you cared for him deeply even more so now. Why couldn’t he see that?

"I would never abandon you. Never, you or our child."

"What if it’s a boy? Like me?!" His voice trembled with insecurity, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear the pregnancy hormones were heightening all his worries. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. He needed your reassurance more than ever now.

"Then we’ll love him just the same, Narin. Just like I love you." He finally looked into your eyes.

"Listen, Narin baby. You’re very, very important to me. I love you and our future child, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl. I just want you both to be healthy, and my family wants the same. No one is doubting you, and if they are--just tell me their name. I’ll have a talk with them myself. Now, tell me, did someone say anything to you?"

He shook his head sincerely.

"Then?" you asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I... just had these thoughts..." he whispered, voice trembling slightly. He grasped your collar tightly, his body now almost in your lap. "You won’t leave, right?"

"Never." You held him closer, your voice firm with reassurance, and yet he needed more. He needed to drown in that reassurance, to feel it in every part of his being. You held him tighter, but it still didn’t feel close enough. "And don’t let these thoughts ruin your mood or stress you out. You hear me? Promise me, you won’t."

He nodded, but this time he clung to you like a lifeline, his fingers tightening in your shirt. "Promise," he whispered, his heart racing. He knew that you were not going to leave him but he just wanted to make sure and...was bored. Damn, he can be a really good actor if he wants to but in all seriousness, it's important to remind you that he is now your everything, your new family. In his head, there was no room for doubt. You belonged to him, and no one else could ever come between you two.... and now three of you. Not now, not ever.

In his eyes, the most delightful thing is making you run for whatever he craves, even if it’s the middle of the night or a drive to another town just to get a snack he tried once. He revels in the fact that you’ll do anything for him, and he takes immense pride in bragging about how caring and romantic his wife is. He squeals with childlike excitement when you’re out fulfilling his whims, loving how dreamy and devoted you are.

But lately, there’s a shadow of sadness in his eyes as he watches you work harder than ever. You’ve started a new venture with your friend, and it’s consuming more of your time and energy.

🍭"You should take a break now," he said, plopping down next to you on the couch and peering over your shoulder at your laptop. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern beneath his playful words. "I don’t want to be a widower in this condition." You jerked your head towards him in shock at his bluntness. It was classic Narin--his naive habit of saying whatever came to mind without fully thinking it through. You just sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

"I’m not dying here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be done in a few minutes."

"Why are you even doing this?! Isn’t your salary enough-"

"No, it’s not enough. Certainly not for the future when the kid is going to grow up and go to school and stuff." Narin grumbled, leaning his head against your chest with a sigh. He was like a needy kitten, wanting your comfort and attention, and the warmth of your chest made him feel a little safer. 'As disciplined and farsighted as ever. So fucking hot.' Well, he is kind of glad too, now that you are working so much, you rarely have time to visit your own family. Hehe. That's right wifey, work for me and your child now, our child.

"Yeah, you’re right. And also, it’s not like we’re going to have only one, right? I was a single child, so I want more than one kid. Got it?" Your hands paused momentarily over the keyboard.

"Um--yeah, but focus on this one for now..." Narin’s smile widened as he traced his finger lightly across your chest. "Oki! Our kids are going to be the prettiest and the smartest!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as worries about the future tugged at the edges of your thoughts. "Of course," you replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before returning to your work. In that moment, the presence of each other made the stress feel a little more bearable.

@mel-vaz 🍭

[mythalism]

i realized the other day after posting about this fan theory that, at this point, it is basically talked about in fandom as if its canon, and newer fans might not understand why. my goal today was to explain the theory and all of the evidence we have for it in inquisition to give people a better understanding of why this has become so ubiquitous, and to hopefully have something to look back on in two months with that "apollo gift of prophecy" dodgeball meme when veilguard proves us right.

very important before i get started: this is not my theory. i didn't make it up. unfortunately, i also don't know exactly who did and if it could even be traced at this point. this is something that many people have believed for a long time, and i'm not the first to write about it. there are a lot of great posts and essays that speculate on this theory, and what it could mean for solas's character going forward.

PLEASE feel free to contribute thoughts, or link to posts you have made yourself or seen before in the replies/reblogs!!! much of my own experience with this comes from long before this account existed, so i dont have exact sources but rather random, amorphous fandom knowledge of this theory and what major arguments have circulated in the past 10 years. this post by @sammakesart and this post by @mrs-gauche went around recently and both touch on this theory and i highly recommend them both! i know @corseque has also written about this theory multiple times over the years.

i was first introduced to this on tumblr when it started gaining ground in the fandom after the release of trespasser in 2015, predominantly due to a couple of lines of cole dialogue from trespasser, so that is where we will begin.

shoutout to @daitranscripts and the dragon age wiki for the dialogue

this line of cole's is basically the foundation of this theory, and what is cited most often. i'm not entirely sure if the theory existed before trespasser, but if it did, i dont remember it being well-known or widely accepted like it is now.

this line is usually interpreted to suggest that solas, who would have been a spirit of wisdom/pride at the time, took a body and came into being as an elf at mythal's behest. this is also the line that suggests solas himself once wore vallaslin, and that he removed it himself using the same spell he uses on a romanced lavellan thousands of years later, but did so clumsily the first time and left the scar we can see on his eyebrow.

first i want to acknowledge what are pretty much the most damning indications of this theory

solas means "pride; to stand tall" in elvhen, according to world of thedas vol. 1

the dread wolf form we see in murals, written descriptions, and of course, in real life in the veilguard trailer, bears a pretty clear resemblance to pride demons:

most notably, in the face and eyes. yeah i dont really have anything else to say about those lmao it's pretty blatant

overall, inquisition tells us a great deal about spirits, and gives the player an alternate worldview through which to understand them, distinct from the chantry/circle narrative presented previously.

solas himself, along with cole, has a lot to say about the nature of spirits throughout his dialogue and banter with several characters. one sentiment that he espouses repeatedly is that spirits and demons are the same thing, but demons are a spirit corrupted and perverted away from its purpose.

Solas: They rarely seek this world. When they do, their natures do not often survive exposure to the people they encounter. Wisdom and purpose are too easily twisted to pride and desire

During All New, Faded for Her:

PC: Solas, you said your friend was a wisdom spirit. Solas: That is not its natural form. It has been corrupted. PC: Corrupted? Solas: Forced to act against its original purpose. What did they do, what did they do, what did they do?

second, that spirits and the fade are a mirror, and reflect the waking world. specifically, that spirits reflect the perception and expectation of a mortal, and adapts accordingly. belief makes reality.

On Ostagar:

PC: I've heard the stories. It would be interesting to hear what it was really like. Solas: That's just it. In the Fade, I see reflections created by spirits who react to the emotions of the warriors. One moment, I see heroic Wardens lighting the fire and a power mad villain sneering as he lets King Cailan fall. The next, I see an army overwhelmed and a veteran commander refusing to let more soldiers die in a lost cause. PC: And you can't tell which is real? Solas: It is the fade. They are all real.

and third, that spirits are people.

solas expresses concerns over what the breach does to spirits at multiple points, including here with cassandra.

he also regularly argues in favor of spirits personhood, and passionately pushes back against characters who argue the opposite, such as dorian:

as well as the inquisitor themselves, should they choose certain dialogue options:

PC: You trust these spirits not to possess you the first time you accidentally make a wish? Solas: Do you trust your friends not to turn on you? (authors note: LMFAOOOOOOO) PC: Well, yes, but they're people. Solas: Ah, of course. PC: You know what I mean. Solas: Are people only people because they are flesh and blood? Solas: Is Cassandra defined by her cheekbones and not her faith? Varric by his chest hair not his wit? PC: They're not defined by their bodies, but they do have bodies. You need one to be a person. Solas: A demon possessing a corpse has a body. PC: A living body. Solas: A demon possesses a living mage to become an abomination. PC: They didn't make that body. They just took it over. Solas: Technically your mother created your body, with some help from your father, one assumes. PC: You've thought about this. Solas: On occasion, yes. OR:

PC: Spirits are bound by their nature. You said it yourself. They're shaped by contact with real people. Solas: Just as Leliana was shaped by contact with Divine Justinia, as those who serve the inquisition are shaped by you. If I change your mind in this conversation, does that mean you're no more real than a spirit? OR: PC: Im certain you have some rhetorical trick ready to counter anything I say. Solas: It's likely. I've had a lot of time to discuss the question with people. Or "spirits", if you prefer.

aside from this entire conversation being hilarious and very fen'harel coded, i think its notable that his enthusiasm and snark here is distinct from the way he engages in other debates, where he is often clinical and detached. on the subject of spirits, however, we get a lot more emotional investment from him - it feels personal. as he says, he's thought about it. on occasion.

solas having originally been a spirit adds helpful context for his insistence on spirit's personhood despite modern thedas's completely contradictory beliefs, and also helps inform his worldview more generally, especially in regards to elves.

one of solas's most heavily criticized aspects is his disdain for modern elves and the dalish. and i agree, it's fucked up and he is an absolute ass about it at nearly every opportunity. however, his feelings regarding the elves sometimes seem... strange, even in the context of him being an ancient elf.

keeping in mind cole's line from trespasser, that he "did not want a body", as well as another cole line from trespasser:

most people infer that there is some sort of resentment on solas's end for him having to become human at mythal's request. it seems as if he was turned away from his purpose. wisdom forced to be pride.

cole's personal quest, which shows solas passionately arguing to keep cole a spirit, supports this. it is almost as if he is trying to prevent cole from the same fate that was forced upon him.

throughout the quest he says things such as: "This is not some fanciful story, child of the stone. We cannot change our nature by wishing." "A spirit does not work through emotions. It embodies them." "You would alter the essence of what he is." "It is good that he is not entirely changed, however human he becomes."

most telling of all, i think is this line at the end of the quest if you elect to keep cole as a spirit.

Varric: "He could have been a person." Solas: Possibly. Would that have made him happier?

OUGGHGH.

clearly, for solas, the answer was no. being a person has not made him happier.

regardless, solas still values spirits as fundamentally equal to people despite their differences and worthy of the same freedoms, self-determination and respect.

this kinship with spirits, however, might help explain his disdain for elves, in a way i find to be more satisfying than "all ancient elves are assholes" and more in-line with his character overall.

it seems as if solas doesnt see himself as separate from modern elves because he doesnt see himself as a modern elf, but that he doesnt not see himself as an elf at all, but rather as a spirit.

solas infamously says, following halamshiral if you bring up briala:

"I'm sorry, I was confused. I do not consider myself to have much in common with the elves."

the inquisitor has the option for several responses, and although most of us probably pick the one that tells him to fuck off, the others are more telling:

PC: Nor should you. You're not defined by the shape of your ears. They're not your people. Solas: No, they are not. OR PC: Who do you have much in common with. Who are your people? Solas: A good question. Solas: I joined the inquisition to save the world. Regardless of who "my people" are, this was the best way to help him.

"not being defined by the shape of your ears" and solas's immediate identification with the statement and approval of it sticks out to me. it seems like he's just being racist, and he very well might be, but in the context of this theory, it can also be interpreted as him disliking being "defined" by having a body at all, or any physical characteristics, consistent with how he resists the idea that varric and cassandra are defined by their own physical characteristics.

if the player insists they want to help the orlesian elves even if he doesnt, he still has something interesting to say:

Solas: Stop Corypheus. That will do for a start. It speaks well of you to feel for the oppressed. Help them for that. Know them for what they are.

this is not the only time he equates all oppressed groups of thedas to one another, defined by their shared subjugation rather than the real, in-world divisions such as race and religion. it's also interesting to consider the relationship between oppression, as a situation that evokes certain emotions in those who experience it, such as pride. as solas says of ostagar, spirits there were drawn to the emotions of the soldiers there. are spirits of pride drawn to situations of oppression, where pride is needed for liberation?

solas's failure (or refusal) to recognize the reality of how oppression functions in modern thedas along lines of race and ethnicity specifically is one of his biggest flaws, but it continues to fit with this theory, as it is consistent with that same sort of single-minded, spirit tunnel-vision that we see from spirits and demons. i would also assume that he considers spirits to be part of this monolithic group of "the oppressed", considering the spirit slavery/bondage practices in tevinter and nevarra, both of which he criticizes.

i do believe, however, that to equate all of solas's unfair derision of the dalish to him identifying with spirits over people, rather than ancient elves over modern elves, would be too generous and an oversimplification. its also clear how much of his anger towards the dalish comes from... wait for it.... his wounded pride.

solas is prideful. when he is faced with pride in others, he becomes defensive, even nasty. when his pride is challenged, often by others pride, he becomes almost unrecognizable. the dalish specifically rub up against his pride, in the most specific of ways that grate at his most cherished qualities and that disregard his own perception of himself. the thing he is most proud of, leading a slave rebellion against corrupt tyrants, erased from history entirely. branded a traitor instead, while those he fought against are worshiped as saviors for millennia.

Solas: I have joined my fair share of causes. But when I offered lessons learned in the Fade, I was derided by my enemies... and sometimes by my allies. Liar. Fool. Madman. There are endless ways to say something isn't worth listening to. Over time, it grinds away at you.

its also possible, considering what we know of the nature of expectation creating reality for spirits, that the dalish framing of the dread wolf actually does indeed make him worse - more arrogant, less compassionate, more ruthless, more cunning, more of a liar. a spirit being perverted into a demon based on the dominant perception of it.

perhaps the most interesting tidbit about solas of all which supports this theory, is that this phenomenon of expectation shaping his nature, making him more prideful or more humble, is not exclusive to the world of thedas, but also occurs on a meta-level with the player by proxy of the inquisitor.

a 2020 interview of trick weekes, solas's writer, says this pretty much verbatim.

"Solas mirrors. If you approach Solas from a place of humility and say, "I want to learn from you," Solas will bend over backwards to tell you how flawed he is and how he's just coming at this from his own limited understanding. If you come in with ego, Solas is genetically incapable of not bristling when he sees your ego... because he can't not do that."

this is fascinating for like 7 million reasons, but most notably for the language trick uses that i believe to be incredibly revealing. first, solas himself talks about how spirits "mirror" the real world multiple times. second is the way in which they speak about solas's mirroring as innate, uncontrollable, and involuntary. he is genetically incapable of not mirroring. genetically incapable of not bristling at someone else's pride. this being a genetic incapability implies, pretty unambigously, that he is a spirit. we dont know of any people in thedas who have pride in their DNA. except. you know. pride demons.

pride is his purpose. he cannot turn away from it or betray that purpose to pursue something else. he cannot change his nature simply by wishing. if he were to attempt it, he would be corrupted.

trick offers this information as an explanation for player's extremely varied perception of solas when playing the game, and it perfectly mimics the way solas himself talks about spirits as being created by a dreamer's expectation of them.

when asked about his friendships with spirits, he says:.

PC: You're saying that you became friends with pride and desire demons? Solas: They were not demons for me. PC: Meaning? Solas: The Fade reflects the minds of the living. If you expect a spirit of wisdom to be a pride demon, it will adapt/ And if your mind is free of corrupting influences? If you understand the nature of the spirit? They can be fast friends.

i just love how perfectly this reflects every fandom argument that's been had on twitter about solas for the past 10 years. like seriously.

random twitter user: you like that guy!? but hes a [demon]!! solas stans: he wasn't a demon for me

and it is true; people who are pretty deep into the games often know what solas is like to a low-approval inquisitor, but it can be shocking for new players to see what he is like at the other end of the approval spectrum, whether that is someone who hated him seeing the tenderness with which he kisses a romanced lavellan goodbye to remove her anchor in trespasser, or someone who romanced him witnessing the cruelty and detachment which with he grabs a low-approval inquisitor to yank off their anchor. he becomes almost an entirely different person based on how the player treats him.

for all that solas, in true spirit form, reflects the perceptions of the players, he has plenty of pure pride-demon vibes on his own, independent of player expectation. he is not just proud, or made proud as a mirror for player/character pride, but he often even goes as far as to act in ways that mimic how we have seen from spirits more generally, as well as pride demons specifically.

the wiki states:

"Spirits are not complex in the sense that they seize upon a single facet of human experience, and this one idea becomes their identity.[3] They are formed as a reflection of the real world and its passions.[10] A spirit embodies and latches onto a specific purpose and will do all in its power to fulfill that purpose. For instance, a hunger demon will attempt to feed on anything it crosses,[4] and a spirit of justice will stop at nothing to uphold its name”

along with further reinforcing solas's tunnel vission as characteristic of spirits, he does indeed intentionally attempt to stoke arrogance in others, as well as test characters to see if they are vulnerable to arrogance and power-hungriness. this is probably best exemplified by his banter with vivienne, versus his banter with cassandra.

i mean this one is self explanatory. cmon.

but it becomes especially interesting when compared to his interactions with cassandra, of whom he starts out very distrustful of. however, through their banter, he immediately begins to test her for indications of her inclination towards arrogance and desire for power:

cassandra passes solas's tests and earns his approval through her humility, curiosity, and willingness to give up power for the greater good. as a result, solas softens considerably towards her, and becomes more evocative of wisdom than pride, offering her advice when she asks, though very humbly:

"i would hardly presume" is actually hilarious considering how he does presume. ALL THE TIME. but it shows the extent of this "mirroring" that trick mentions, when compared to how he speaks with vivienne, who does not pass his tests of pride: notice how his jabs at her specifically target her pride, the things she is proud of about herself, and tear them down:

he tells her that her position in the orlesian court is unearned, that the freedom she is so proud of winning for herself will come to an inevitable end, and that her resistance to demons does not make her special. its absolutely BRUTAL.

its especially important to note how little bearing vivienne and cassandra's backgrounds have on solas's perception of them. vivienne is a circle mage, a group of people who solas deeply sympathizes with, and believes should be freed. meanwhile cassandra is effectively templar, a group whom solas despises and finds unjust, and has been complacent in the oppression of mages that solas is so vehemently against.

and yet? it does not matter. he measures their worth based entirely on their propensity for pride.

it’s worth noting too, keeping in mind Solas’s almost uncharacteristic reverence for cassandra’s faith in the maker and (take this with a grain of salt because it was david gaider and he said via forum post….) that there are actually two types of spirits that become pride. wisdom, and faith.

"A spirit embodies and latches onto a specific purpose and will do all in its power to fulfill that purpose."

what we DONT know: pretty much everything else about this. what was the process like? at what point in history did he take the body? how was that body made? was it stolen? did he start as wisdom and turn into pride later? did he always oscillate between both? was he corrupted by what was asked of him, to fight, as his friend was in his personal quest?

i could continue talking about this forever, probably, especially with how it manifests in the solavellan relationship and what it suggests for solas's story in veilguard, but ill cut it here for both my own sanity and yours. but first, a few fun dialogue bits that strike me as very pride-demon coded but didn't fit anywhere else in this analysis.

in conclusion:

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 || 𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭

— pairing: logan howlett x plus size mutant!reader

— summary: who knew the key to scaring away the big bad wolverine was a kiss?

— warnings: angst that i have no idea how to describe, heartbreak :/, miscommunication that is quickly rectified, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, horribly described plant ability (forgive me).

— wc: 664

⋆ a/n: OH ME OH MY!!! i haven't written for a new character in so long! it's so refreshing!! forgive me if logan is a bit ooc and a lot of things probably don't make sense, i'm still in the process of watching the movies so i tried to keep things as vague as possibly aside from the spoilers i've been given! i have fallen so deeply in love with this man so he will definitely be making an apperance on this acc more! ty for your request! @hicanivent

masterlist | AO3

You never thought in all your years of living, you would be the one thing that managed to scare away Logan, and all it took was a kiss.

Maybe it was your fault or possibly the tension that had surrounded the two of you since you had joined the mutant school as another professor.

Either way, what was done is done, and you couldn’t sleep.

You stared up at your roof which was decorated with all sorts of plant vines. Though you were a mutant as well, your ability was minor. You were able to manipulate plants; you could make them move, grow, or wilt. It was nothing too impressive, but the children enjoyed your gardening class.

Gardening wasn’t the only thing you taught, there was also the history of different herbs and species of plants and how they were used throughout time. 

That’s where your dilemma of insomnia lies. With an aching heart and an active brain, essays sat delicately on your desk in your classroom, and you were contemplating on whether or not you should just grade them. The kids weren’t expecting them back anytime soon, but what else were you to do?

A part of you is afraid that maybe you’ll run into Logan stalking through the halls like he does sometimes when his brain gets too loud. It was like he always had something to run from, and somehow he’d always find himself knocking on your door at all hours of the night. Sometimes he wouldn’t even talk, just sit there and find comfort in your presence.

You weren’t ashamed to say that you’re worried about him, but Logan was probably the most stubborn man you had ever met, so if he didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t force him. Sometimes you wish you could.

You threw your blankets off of your body, sitting on the edge of the bed and held your head in your hands. You felt the exhaustion seeping into your bones and you let out a prolonged sigh.

A hesitant knock on your door pulled you out of your tired stupor, your head shooting up in alarm.

You honestly thought it was one of the kids, definitely not a very shaken up looking Logan.

A very bitter part of you wanted to turn him away, but a very extremely soft part of you – the part that was in love with him – led you to open up the door wider with a small encouraging smile on your face.

He looked unsure for a moment before breaking through the threshold. 

“I’m sorry.”  Was the first thing he had said before you even had a chance to turn around after shutting the door.

He was standing in the middle of your room, the midnight glow shining through your window casted an enchanting shadow against the naked skin of his arms that was exposed by his classic plain white undershirt. 

You don’t know how you managed to speak through the dryness of your throat.

“It’s okay.” You spoke quietly, looking up at him through tired eyes. “No it’s not.” He denied. You approached him slowly before you cupped his cheek. “But Logan, it is.”

Your words had a plethora of meanings behind them, that you forgive him, that you were waiting until he was ready. 

You stare at each other for a moment, his large battle worn hands rest on the plumpness of your hips, and the supernatural warmth of his body sends a pleasant shiver up your spine.

“If I kiss you, are you going to run away again?” You joke, breaking the intense atmosphere. 

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips ever so slightly. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around this time.”

Logan doesn’t give you time to retort because he had already found himself kissing you, the scruff of his mutton chops scratching at your cheeks ever so slightly. It tickled and you giggled, smiling into his mouth.

You felt him smile too.

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[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

There's Eddie and then there's you, who has moved into the trailer park. Eddie discovers this one morning and proceeds to make an ass of himself. Features cute and flirty Eddie.

Or alternatively Eddie spots you while he's rushing to get to his van for school and nearly knocks himself out.

Eddie has no game but he tries, sweet Eddie.

🖤

Eddie doesn't pay much attention to the new family moving into the trailer park. He's too focused on getting a song prepared for Saturday at The Hideout, alternating that with writing in his notebook, poring over ideas for a new Hellfire campaign.

Wayne pokes his head out of the trailer door, he's clutching cups of coffee for them both. Eddie's coffee is in his favourite mug- the Garfield one that Wayne bought for him when he first moved in with him many moons ago.

He gulps the coffee down, almost burns his tongue at the scalding temperature then swears when he realises what time it is. Shit shit shit. He's already late for school, he's determined to graduate this year so no skipping any boring shit no matter how much he wants to.

It's when he's climbing inside his van that he realises he's forgotten his essay for Mrs O'Donnell's class, it took him long enough to write the shit. If this was about D&D or metal music or any one of the fantasy novels he loves then he'd ace it, but it's not and he's not interested in another fucking love story.

Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the old dragon to fail him if he forgot the essay and he can't use the excuse that a dog ate it- that got him a week's detention last time.

It's then that he sees the trailer door open that's not far from Mayfield's house and he's not seen who's moved into the new trailer so sue him, he's curious and looks over.

You can imagine his surprise when he catches a hint of a cheerleading uniform then you peer up at him, the momentum as he runs or if he's being honest tries to strut and the fact he's gawking at you causes him to trip over his feet and he nearly knocks himself out on his van door and sprawls on the ground.

"Jesus h Christ" he growls and he cringes that he almost knocked himself out because he was hawking at a pretty lady. Smooth Munson. Real smooth.

"Are you alright?" Suddenly you're beside him, kneeling in the grass and peering over him anxiously. He thinks he might have died and he's now in heaven because your fingers are in his hair and you murmur that you're checking for blood.

"Beautiful" he thinks to himself but then he realised he said it out loud and a pink blush coats his cheeks. You bite your lip and a sweet smile blooms on your face.

"Okay, I think you've definitely hit your head" You grin at him and his heart is fluttering, racing like a hummingbird's wings. Fuck, he has no game when it comes to women, usually he tries to make them laugh or makes an overdramatic fool of himself.

But this right now with you? this stumps him and makes him nervous. Eddie was rarely nervous, perfecting a don't give a fuck demeanour over the years but one look from you and he's putty. Feels shy and tongue-tied, he can't remember the last time he was ever tongue-tied.

Trying very carefully not to make an ass of himself he gets up and takes a bow which makes you giggle. "Eddie Munson at your service princess"

"I know. Your reputation precedes you, Eddie, though you're nothing that I thought you'd be like" he smiles impishly, knows exactly what you mean.

"Mmm, mean, scary and is known to make Jason Carver piss his pants" You snort and nod, eyes lighting up and he's eager to hear your sweet laugh again.

Maybe you have some jock boyfriend who would kick his ass for flirting or talking to his girl but at this moment he could not give a shit.

"Yeah and I didn't expect you to almost knock yourself out just because you looked at me" there's a shyness to your tone and he shrugs.

"It's not often that I'm graced with someone who is so enchanting Milady" he teases but it's the truth at the same time and you

"Enchanting? I've never been called that before" you seem surprised that someone could think that about you and that pisses Eddie off. If you did have a boyfriend then he was the biggest jackass in the world if he didn't show you how special you were.

And he never thought there would ever be a bigger jackass than Jason Carver.

"I've never made a complete ass of myself and nearly gave myself a concussion in front of a girl before sweetheart, guess there are firsts for everything" he hides his smile with a lock of his hair, his heart rate spiking again at the look on your face.

"Should probably get going, I'd offer you a ride but uh I'm sure your boyfriend would kick my ass if I did that and you know you're from the dark side and Hellfire would lose their shit" he's disappointed he can't talk to you more but at least you live close, maybe you would speak again.

It's only when he realises that you've walked past him and you're waiting at the van door that he comes out of his reverie.

"The dark side? We're not in Star Wars and if I was I'd be Leia and kick the dark side's ass. Also it's good that I don't have a boyfriend so you can drive me huh Munson?" You wink at him and his brain short circuits.

No boyfriend. You just winked at him. He feels like a deer in headlights then promptly snaps out of it. Feels like he's the cock of the walk as he struts to his van.

He absolutely does not nearly trip over his own feet again trying to impress you with his suave strut. Absolutely not.

He does.