#and maybe its because i do have the answers

[creamflix]

christmas event looks so kewl! can i have sukuna + mistletoe (naughty) please? 😽😽

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SUKUNA has never understood your fascination with christmas. 

the baubles, the garlands, the lights strung across the tree — it all seems excessive and nonsensical to him. when he catches you draping the tree with shiny ornaments, your tongue peeking out in concentration, he’s half-tempted to ask if this is some kind of sacrificial ritual. 

but he keeps quiet. mostly because watching you enjoy yourself so thoroughly feels... oddly satisfying.

the mistletoe, though? that’s where things get complicated.

he first notices it dangling from the ceiling in the entryway. you don’t bother explaining it, brushing past with a knowing smile, leaving him to squint suspiciously at the strange green plant. 

“warding off spirits?” he mutters to himself. “what kind of pathetic charm is this?”

of course, his assumptions are shattered after an admittedly frustrating deep dive into google, of all things. the man searches everything from “green thing christmas ceiling” to “magic christmas plant meaning” before finally landing on an answer. 

and when he learns the truth? his mood sours instantly.

a kiss. it’s some absurd tradition that demands he kiss you underneath this thing. 

you’re his; he doesn’t need some ridiculous plant giving him permission. but then again... maybe it’s not so bad if it’s an excuse to remind everyone else of that fact.

the next time you catch someone entering a room under mistletoe, sukuna is already there, arms crossed, posture tense. his crimson gaze flickers between the plant and the unsuspecting victim like a predator sizing up its prey.

“don’t even think about it,” he growls lowly, stepping deliberately into their path. his presence alone is enough to make them reconsider, slinking away without so much as a glance in your direction.

“suku!” you scold, but your amusement betrays you.

“don’t ‘suku’ me,” he snaps, scooping you into his arms and positioning you directly under the mistletoe. “you think i’m going to let anyone else get near you? this is my right.”

his lips claim yours in a possessive kiss, fierce and unrelenting, as if marking you all over again. and when you pull back, breathless, his lips merely shift to your jaw, trailing downward in a heated path.

“sukuna,” you murmur, half-laughing, half-scolding. “that’s enough! it’s just a silly tradition.”

“no,” he grumbles, hands sliding to your waist and tugging you closer. “it’s a tradition that involves my human. and if some stupid plant demands it, i’m not going to stop at one kiss.”

his lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, and you can feel his sharp teeth scrape teasingly against your skin. one of his hands creeps beneath your shirt, splayed warm and possessive across your back.

“kuna, stop! your hands —”

“my hands are exactly where they belong.” his voice is a low rumble, a mix of defiance and desire. but he finally relents, letting out a dramatic sigh as he pulls away, though his hands linger at your waist.

“fine. you win. for now.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re impossible.”

“and you love it.” his smirk is smug, but there’s something softer in the way his thumb brushes against your hip, his gaze lingering on your face.

truthfully, he still doesn’t understand half your human traditions, but if they involve you — your laughter, your blush, your kisses — he supposes they aren’t so bad.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[puckinghischier]

https://www.tumblr.com/puckinghischier/766626512832266240/hiiiiii-ive-come-to-beg-for-crumbs-lol-seeing

thinking about this for no reason tonight…quinn getting home extra pissed bc he got ejected and you aren’t helping, prancing around in only his jersey doing everything you can to get him to take his anger out on you again

you watched the whole thing happen from the tv in the hotel room, choosing to stay in tonight because it was so cold out. you hate to say it, but you were turned on the second you saw him looking down at the player on the ice, jabbing his stick around after the play had already stopped.

you knew he’d be back early, having already texted you that he’s forgoing any media because he just wants a hot shower and some greasy take out. you had other plans, however. you knew he’d have some pent up feelings. he always tries to hide how frustrated he really is, not wanting to set a bad example for any young captains or players watching. so, you decide to use it to your advantage.

you strip yourself from your clothes, walking over and rummaging through quinn’s game bag. you find the clean, black, skate jersey tucked away inside, and slip it over your bare body. you sprawl yourself out across the large bed, jersey ridden up just enough so your ass peeks out. you lay there in wait, wanting to be nothing more than his stress reliever tonight.

when he finally makes his way into the room, he tosses his bag down at the door and stalks towards the bathroom. he doesn’t even look your way, shutting the door and turning the shower on. shock and disappointment clouds your features, a small bit of embarrassment settling in your stomach. you stay put, though. waiting. surely when he sees you, he’ll pounce.

he emerges from the small bathroom twenty minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. he looks at you on the bed, noticing your state.

“why are you wearing my skate jersey?” he asks, not hinting at whether he’s pleased or not.

you shrug. “just…felt like it,” you try to sound sultry and seductive, letting him know what you want.

he stands and stares for a moment before shaking himself out of the trance, walking over to grab a pair of black boxer briefs from his suitcase, dropping the towel and sliding them up his legs before you can even appreciate his bare ass on display.

“did you find anywhere that’s still open and sounds good? m’starving,” he asks you, not bothering to put sweats or a shirt on.

“not yet…didn’t know if maybe you wanted something…sweeter to eat,” you roll over, spreading your legs slightly, giving him a glimpse of your damp pussy.

he sighs out, closing his eyes and pinching his nose while tilting his head up. your embarrassment creeps back in, picking up that he clearly doesn’t want to do this tonight.

you sit up, tugging his jersey down to cover yourself, cheeks flushed and eyes stinging with oncoming tears you will yourself not to drop.

“s-sorry. i’ll…uh…go look up some menus on my phone,” you whisper out, not meeting his eyes as you stand.

you don’t see the way his eyes snap open to look at you, the embarrassed and dejected tone causing alarms to go off in his head.

he reaches out and grabs your arm as you try to walk past him, stopping you in your tracks. placing both hands on your biceps under his jersey, he turns your body to face his, a soft “look at me,” forcing your attention to his face.

he brings a hand up to push a strand of hair out of your face, letting his hand trail down your face before finding its previous spot on your arm.

“m’sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you. s’just…not this time,” he tells you, squeezing the soft flesh of your arms.

you nod, but you need to know if it’s you, or if he’s just really not in the mood. “was…,” you trail off, not knowing if you can handle the answer if it’s not in your favor. “was the jersey too much? just thought, i don’t know…you always say how much you like seeing me in them, and figured you’d need some…stress relief after tonight, so…” you leave the sentence open ended, assuming he understands what you’re not saying.

he chuckles out a dry laugh. “baby, i love seeing you in my jerseys so much, you have no idea,” he lets his gaze travel down to the way your body is swallowed by the black fabric. “but, i don’t trust myself with you tonight,” he confesses, looking back up at your surprised face.

“quinn, i trust you. i do. i know you’d never go too far, or do anything i wasn’t comfortable with,” you rush out, your hands flying up to grip both of his forearms.

he shakes his head, letting it drop. “sweetheart, you have no idea how much i’d love to have my way with you tonight, but i’m so pissed off. so mad at how tonight went. and the fact the team acted like they didn’t even need me?” you can see his eyes darkening the longer he talks, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. “can’t promise what would happen. how rough i’d be. don’t want to hurt you, or worse, scare you off,” he snaps out of his little trance, his grip loosening, but not before you whimpered at the burning squeeze.

it’s your turn to shake your head at him, hands leaning his arms to touch his face.

“q, please, i promise you won’t scare me off, or hurt me. i know my limits, and so do you. i trust you. trust yourself,” you plead with him.

you can tell he’s thinking it over, watching the conversation he’s having with himself in his head.

“i-are you sure?” he asks, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.

“use me,” is all you say in response, leaning up on the tips of your toes to whisper the words in his ear seductively. for good measure, you lick a stripe from his ear down his jaw and to the base of his throat.

the growl that erupts from where your tongue was just exploring is carnal, shoving you back from his body towards the bed. the force catches you off guard, falling onto your back on the plush surface.

he walks the short steps towards you, hovering over you. “tell me to stop at any time, okay?” he speaks softly, but with meaning, wanting you to know you’re still the one who’s really in control here.

you nod, sighing out a “okay,” as he rests a large hand on your thigh, sliding it all the way up to your chest, bringing the jersey with it.

he teasingly pinches a nipple, earning a moan from you as you arch your back into the sensation. he looks down at your face, loving how desperate you already are for him.

“remember, you asked for this,” he reminds you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the hungry, dark look on his face.

‘sure did,’ you think to yourself, knowing if last time was anything to go off of, tonight, coming off of an ejection rather than a simple minor penalty, you were in for a treat.

[ellecdc]

hey elleeeee

could i pretty please do 🐻 the sharing a bed prompt, “cuddling in their sleep” + “waking up with their faces centimetres apart”. with remus but theyre not together just pinNING for eachother and this happens.

consider it done

Remus Lupin x roommate!reader who cuddle for warmth and that's totally it [641 words]

CW: fem!reader, Remus sort of pining, but maybe it's not one sided!?!?, fluff, sort of a continuation from this post

Remus thinks he should perhaps feel a little guilty having taken advantage of the current situation; his original offer certainly hadn’t been a selfless one. 

Was the flat sodding freezing? Yes, it was. Would he have been up worrying all night that you’d died of hypothermia in your own bed? Absolutely. Was it indeed warmer having consolidated every blanket and pillow the two of you owned into one bed and sharing body heat to stay more comfortable? Damn right it was. 

But, it was because of all these aforementioned reasons that Remus felt it was perhaps a touch unethical to be enjoying his current situation as much as he did. 

The two of you were gripping each other’s hands and arms as if you were both afraid the other would simply float away had you not been holding on for dear life. The soft, cloud filtered light bathing your face in its glow; your head resting on one of his pillows he hoped to god smelled like you, now, that was but a few measly centimetres away from his own face. 

He found himself nearly holding his breath as though he was afraid to disturb the peace of this moment, one that he'd been fighting against yet secretly yearning for since he realised how much he enjoyed your presence; perhaps a bit too much to be simply considered roommates, or even just friends. 

He catalogued the way your eyelashes fanned from beneath your closed eyes and kissed the tops of your cheeks, fluttering ever so slightly when something would happen in your dream. He revelled in the way that you seemed to be smiling, even in your sleep; your lips relaxed and pursed ever so slightly as you breathed through your nose. 

Your nose - it was stupid and foolish and silly, but fuck - he loved your nose.

And this might well and truly be the one and only time he got to enjoy you like this, so sue him for what he did next.

He hardly had to move at all, really, he simply pushed his chin forward so that his nose bumped into yours. He was checking, you see, because he knew his nose was cold from the cool air surrounding your nest of pillows and blankets and body heat, but he needed to see if yours was too. He couldn’t in good conscience sit here and admire your nose if you were about to lose it to frostbite, now could he? 

Remus found himself smiling at the fact that your nose, for whatever reason, was slightly warmer than his. Good, he thought, I’d like her to keep her nose. 

“You’re supposed t’be sleeping.” You blurt rather suddenly for Remus’ tastes, still never opening your eyes as Remus rears his head back, though you strengthen your hold on his hands and arms so that he can’t actually move away from you.

“How long have you been awake?” He accuses you instead of admitting he was being a creepy fuck and watching you sleep.

You don’t answer him, though. Instead, you let out a languid stretch before releasing your hold of his hands in favour of wrapping your arms around his torso and slotting yourself against him; legs tangled with his and your nose - colder than the skin of his collarbone - pushing into his neck as you tucked yourself under his chin. 

“Go t’sleep, Rem.” You order him, tightening your hold around his chest as he allows his arms to cautiously encircle you in his own embrace; one hand splayed between your shoulder blades, and the other cupping the back of your head lovingly. 

He didn’t follow your order, unfortunately. But he did spend the rest of the morning wondering, hoping, nearly begging the universe that perhaps this might not be the last time he gets to enjoy you like this.

[censoredforprofanity]

I'm an atheist and have no real ties to Christianity, but... Are they actually praying to it? Or is the ai only meant to answer factual questions about Christianity? Because if the latter, I dont see that it's any worse than a kid asking their parents a question about religion, or a tumblr user asking @heresylog a question for that matter.

But maybe the fact that it is non-living/ a machine means its not qualified to answer questions about Christianity, because a machine can't interpret the word of god? But then again, if one needs to be qualified to interpret the word of god, no one except a man of the cloth would be qualified to do so, which would once again disqualify @heresylog (I assume that parents are an exception and that teaching children about Christianity falls under the ambit of parental duty).

Just my rather rambling thought process here, making no claims to any understanding or knowledge about any religious process or theology.

Hey, @flagellant, I think I need that rundown on the difference between blasphemy, sacrilege, and heresy again.

[eviesaurusrex]

Escaping | Azriel x High Fae

summary: Azriel carries his mate off to a much-needed picnic, away from her duties at the Court of Dreams.

word counter: 3.2k

warnings: none, pure fluff, Az being a simp for his woman, mentions of reader being an empath/reader having empathic abilities, Az’s pet names being always accompanied by “my” (bc he needs to remind himself constantly that she’s indeed his), reader is part of the Night Court ever since

author’s note: This is also my first time writing anything for ACOTAR, so please be gentle with me, but I just had to, okay? Az deserves every ounce of happiness I can offer him. Also: This is my first time writing and uploding anything in a minute, so this is definitely not perfect

Dividers are made by @enchanthings and @sweetmelodygraphics <3

He had planned this little escape for weeks now, always trying to find the perfect moment to whisk his mate away between duties and obligations, only to grant her and himself a much-needed break from quite literally everything. His shadows had been restless ever since, just as their wielder, the growing stress and frustration traveling along their strong mating bond only a figment of an indication of how she grew to feel every morning she awoke to tend to the court and their cause to protect and free Prythian in the War looming on the horizon.

And today had been finally the perfect day—due to Rhys’ helping hand after he had seen the growing and building anxiety of his brother.

“Is it not strange how adamant Rhys has acted earlier? I think it’s weird. Do you think I should go and check up on him later? Maybe trying to ease his mind? I think I should.” Her sweet, melodic voice filled the warm air, and a rare chuckle escaped the spymaster at her fast-working mind. Gently, he took the blanket out of her arms, placing it over the arm that already carried the basket filled with all her favorites, and tenderly, his free arm found its home around her waist, pulling her closer to his side.

A perfect fit. It was as if the Mother and the Cauldron had molded them to fit just as perfectly as two puzzle pieces. Made for one another… He still couldn’t grasp how his lifelong wish had been answered and granted after so many centuries.

Azriel’s head dipped to press a lingering kiss to her temple, his nose slightly buried in her soft strands, the soothing scent overpowering the scents wafting around them. “Will you scold me if I tell you how I asked him to give us at least today to ourselves?” His voice was soft, tender, a loving and humored edge to it. Hazel eyes began to twinkle as she looked up at him, meeting his gaze, not surprised in the slightest at his revelation, and the teasing twinkle in her eyes in return made his lips twitch into a smile. “Did you now?” She teased and nudged his side, tickling Az because she knew of every existing weak spot—the only person aside from Cassian and Rhys. Her growing smile made him feel light, free, and still, it was the most exhilarating thing he had ever achieved in his long life; felt as if his heart might explode any second when she turned and stretched slightly to press a kiss to his jawline. Reaching further wasn’t possible with the towering male walking beside her. “Thank you, my love.” Only a whisper, but loud enough to travel to his ears, accompanied by the warm and fuzzy feeling sent down the bond by her.

Another pull with the arm around her waist put her even closer—if that was even possible—and Azriel couldn’t hold back the urge within him to kiss her soft lips he had already kissed so often ever since they had accepted their mating bond. Still, it wasn’t often enough, in his opinion. Giving in, the shadowsinger stopped their path in the hidden passageway towards the lush green rolling hills along the coast of Velaris and slowly bent his body, letting their noses run alongside one another. “Nothing to thank me for, my darling,” he hummed, lips almost already touching in the softest of kisses, and he felt her fingers run through the short hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to her and letting their lips melt into one. Neither he nor she could tell where the kiss started and where it ended, where his lips began and hers ended.

The low rumble of her stomach put a pause to their antics, and Az hummed once again before entwining their fingers and continued on their path. “Let’s find a place where we can ease that growl, my darling.”

Wildflowers of all kinds surrounded the place they had finally settled on—the glittering ocean right next to them, the rolling green hills as far as sight could reach, and Velaris in the close distance, beautiful as it had always been. Az had made himself comfortable on the blanket, the picnic basket opened right next to him, his body propped up on his forearms, and his eyes followed his mate as she strolled through the flowers. He could see her fingertips gracing the soft petals that stretched their colorful heads towards the sun, his shadows slowly, almost lazily winding around her wrist and fingers, always keeping her company, making sure she was alright. Not that Azriel minded their own ways, but sometimes he suspected they might abandon him entirely for her if they had the chance—and the shadowsinger couldn’t blame them either. He would do the same if it meant being at her side at all times.

“Eat at least a bite,” he now called over to her as she picked the first flower. She only spared a quick glance at him, but her radiant smile couldn’t fool him, nor could it hide the roll of her eyes. “Yes, yes. Only a minute, love.” Azriel himself rolled his eyes now, but the tuck at his lips was too strong to withstand it. Not when they were alone, not when she was the cause of that rare smile sneaking its way onto his face.

So, he watched her while already eating some of the fresh berries, patiently waiting, eyes moving when she moved toward the next flower in full bloom, bending down to pick her, placing the delicate thing in the soft embrace of her arm he knew wouldn’t dare crush her new possession. She wasn’t violent or cruel to beings who couldn’t defend themselves, who didn’t possess a single malicious thought in their entire body. And even for those who might commit evil deeds, she still held compassion if necessary. By the Cauldron, she even had accepted him from the very beginning of their friendship all those centuries ago when Rhys had brought her into the Court of Dreams, right after the War had been won.

A sigh left him when she finally strolled toward him in her pretty flowy dress, hair flowing in the warm breeze, her smile growing the closer she got to him. “What am I supposed to do with you, hm?” Az had pushed himself from his arms into a sitting position, legs slightly crossed, an arm resting on his muscular thigh, while the other reached for her, enveloping her fingers as she sank onto the blanket and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. The sound of his wings stretching and rustling behind him accompanied her adorable chuckle, and he almost melted at the sight of her shining eyes when she pressed his scarred palm against her cheek, her lips leaving a warm mark on it, letting him forget about the pain of the past in an instant.

She had that power over him.

“Az, you had more than four centuries to get used to my antics.” Grinning, her lips pressed another set of kisses to his palm before letting his hand sink onto her knee, where it immediately started to wander and found its place on her thigh, squeezing it tenderly. “I should know by now, you mean?” A nod followed his question, grin still prominent on her lips, but he felt her concentration slip toward the many flowers she had sprayed over the blanket in front of her, and her soft and delicate fingers had already started to weave some of them together. “Perhaps even a lifetime isn’t long enough,” he dared to hum and tease, moving closer toward her side and holding a strawberry in front of her lips. The tip of Azriel’s nose nudged her temple, and she took a bite, sighing in satisfaction. “Perhaps.” The sweet berry muffled her words, and without thinking or even considering he was prepared for it, the woman scooted closer and leaned backward, pressing her back against her mate’s strong chest—because he had been ready. He was always ready and always there if she needed or craved anything.

Even though the bond had taken its sweet time before it had finally snapped into place, they had been close from the beginning, a mutual feeling of closeness and understanding the root and foundation of their slowly blooming friendship. And over the decades and centuries, they had started to learn to know one another. Now, with the bond in its rightful place, it all was merely heightened; no longer a want to fulfill anything they wished for, but an urging need. So Az just knew without thinking when she needed his arms wrapped tightly around her body, his chest pressing against her back like a steadfast wall in a sea of uncertainty and fear.

His chin rested on her right shoulder, the strong and powerful wings softly tucked behind his back, granting the sunlight to kiss and warm her skin while she weaved flower after flower in a steadily growing circle.

“When all of this is over…” The soft voice of his mate traveled alongside the warm breeze. “When all is over, I’d like to leave for a while. Just… the two of us. Somewhere enjoying life itself, forgetting about War, bloodshed, and intrigues. Healing and growing,” she continued even softer, reminding him once again of her calm and peaceful nature, and Azriel felt how she longed for all those things after everything that had happened in the past fifty years. He didn’t dare to think about all that had happened Under the Mountain when she had been forced to live there, didn’t try to recollect everything she had shared with him in those days after Rhys and she had finally returned to Velaris.

All that was important was the exploding sensation of relief since she had followed Rhys over the threshold in the House of Wind, stepping out of the shadow of his broad back and came running right to him. That immaculate sensation had been his companion since that day.

Burrowing his face into the warm crook of her neck, the spymaster released a deep breath. “Whatever you wish, my darling,” he whispered against her skin, making her giggle and squirm in his grasp. “Az! Stop it, or my flower crown will be ruined!” He hid the growing smirk against her skin and nipped at one of her weak spots, making it tickle once more. “They always turn out beautiful.” Azriel could practically feel the playful roll of her eyes at his words, and dutifully, he picked the next flower for her to weave into the growing circle before a small lemon tart found its way to her lips, reminding his mate that they indeed had something else in mind when they had left the House of Wind earlier.

The deep, soft sighing after the first bite of the masterfully baked tart warmed his heart, and Azriel didn’t object in the slightest when the small cake was eaten within a heartbeat, her sweet tooth demanding even more after weeks of relinquishment because they had all been so busy with the preparations for the meeting with Prythian’s High Lords.

“Another one?” He whispered quietly as the shadows now surrounded their legs, resting like they did. “Do we have one of these tiny strawberry cakes we had for Starfall?” Immediately, the memory of the last festivities occupied his mind as he looked for the mentioned dessert and presented it to her like an offering to the gods in his open, scarred palm. “My Lady.” She chuckled at that and abandoned the almost finished flower crown with a gentle “Thank you, my Lord,” only to take the delicate cake and took a savoring bite out of it.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you looked at Starfall? More radiant as the stars…” Az’s voice trailed off into the distance, pictures of that night clouding his mind once again. As she turned her head to look at him with that one smile entirely reserved for his eyes, he pulled back and let her kiss his lips in a heart-wrenchingly soft kiss. “You told me that countless times, my love. Especially when you see the dress hanging in the armoire.” She grinned at that, making him almost blush. “But do I need to remind you how handsome and dashing you looked that night? All those ladies turning and twisting their heads as soon as you walked through the room…” Even though she knew that no one could take her mate, the bitter feeling of jealousy boiled in her blood for just a second before it vanished at the glowing and warm, but also shadowy feeling of their bond, reminding her once again that they were bound for the rest of their existence.

“No need to be jealous, my darling. There was never anyone but you, and there will never be anyone but you.”

His index finger under her chin moved her face upward to face him, skin touching skin and lips brushing over even softer lips. “I know,” she whispered against Azriel, and for a moment, she leaned her forehead against the strong line of his jaw, feeling him pressing a tender kiss on her hairline.

A rumble in the far-off distance let them look up at last, and both watched the building and rolling clouds over the sea, knowing that rain was a mere thought away. But still, they took their time.

Az continued to feed them both, watching her tirelessly weaving flower after flower into the crown, humming a tune they had danced to countless times by now and savoring the warmth radiating off his body. “Another one for Elain?” Azriel dared to ask as she seemed to be done. All the flowers she had gathered were woven into a beautiful, intricate pattern, and none were wasted. His mate had started to bring Elain flowers and plants in all their forms, especially ones only growing in their lands and not behind the wall, explaining their nature, natural habitats, uses, and sometimes hidden beauty. She was so soft and gentle with the young female that Azriel had to ask himself—more often than not, if he was honest—if she would be like this to their children if they ever were allowed that sort of happiness.

He let her sit up and turn onto her knees, holding the crown in her delicate fingers. She shook her head, an unsure smile now surfacing on her lips, as she softly placed it on top of his dark hair. “I never made one for you, my love.” He was stunned, not daring to move nor touch the petals now resting on his head. “You don’t have to keep it, of course. If you don’t like it, I can just bring it to Elain, and we’ll forget about it. It’s silly anywa-” He stopped her right then and there by pulling her close and kissing her fiercely, only holding himself back from roaring down their bond and scaring the living daylights out of her. He took great pride in the fact how breathless his mate was when Az finally ended the kiss, how gleaming her eyes were when she looked at him, how the blush that had crept to her cheeks made them glow, how her fingers gripped the fabric over his chest to steady herself. “Don’t you dare take it,” he growled and kissed her once more, shorter this time, less desperate, and still tickled those delicious sounds out of her body he still kept reveling in, even after all this time.

The first drop falling from the heavens made them part, and while she started to collect their things to pack them safely into the basket and fold the picnic blanket, Azriel spread his wings to protect his mate from the mighty raindrops. When they were ready to winnow to the barriers of the House of Wind, the summer downpour had already picked up its intensity and soaked the two from head to toe. However, their laughter still lingered over their sacred space of Velaris even after they winnowed away.

Feyre’s brows creased in worry as she looked out the many windows in the palace atop the mountain, overlooking Velaris during the downpour that had been foreseen. The heavy drops splattered against the glass, making it difficult to discern any shape moving in the distance. She knew the rain wouldn’t harm them, but the thunderstorm rolling over the hills induced an anxiety within her that she could barely contain.

“Feyre, darling?”

Rhys’ voice let her spin away from the windows, facing her mate who had stood from his desk he had worked on for the past couple of hours, and walked closer toward her, worry furrowing his forehead. “What is wrong?” He wrapped his strong arms around her body, and the High Lady sighed deeply as she sank into the embrace. “Nothing, I…” The first roaring thunder let her pause for a moment. “Az and YN haven’t returned yet.” Violet eyes gazed out of the window, brows slightly furrowed in concentration as he tried to make out the shapes in the gloomy light of the early evening.

Then, a smile spread across his handsome face, and Feyre turned to see what had happened. “They are now. Come, my love,” the High Lord coaxed his mate toward the door to meet the pair down the hall to greet them. She followed him without hesitation, needing to see for herself that both her friends returned without harm, and had to know if they enjoyed their afternoon, needing all the raunchy details YN would spill over a glass of faery wine and a warm fire.

They only made it atop the stairwell leading down into the hall that housed the balcony primarily used to enter the House of Wind, and the pair watched a dripping YN pulling a not-less-dripping Azriel inside, a laugh dancing on her lips.

The Illyrian shook the rain off his shoulders and wings, eyes entirely focused on the brightly smiling High Fae before him. Without a thought, he let the basket drop to the floor, not sparing a single second for its whereabouts after because his entire being narrowed down to the bond beating in his chest, demanding intimacy, closeness, with the female he desired and loved more than life itself. A shriek escaped YN between laughter as Az playfully pounced on her, wrapping her in his strong arms and lifting her off the ground in one smooth motion, moaning deep in his throat at the first taste of her lips drenched in rain droplets.

As he carried her down the hall toward their shared bedchambers in long, purposeful strides, flower crown still proudly atop his head, YN laughed: “Az, the basket!” The pair above the stairs could only hear him say, “It can wait until I’m drunk and delirious on you,” before a door closed, and Feyre finally allowed the giggle to escape her she had held onto for so long.

Rhys shook his head with a humored grin, pulling the female next to him closer to his chest. “My spymaster wearing a flower crown? I won’t ever let him forget it,” he chuckled deeply, amusement and happiness dancing across his face, especially as Feyre hit his chest in warning. “Don’t you dare tease him about it!” The male grinned at that, pulling her face toward him, and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. “I can’t make such promises, Feyre darling unless you are interested in a little deal with your beloved mate.”

Now, it was her turn to let a laugh freely echo through the halls.

Thank you everyone for reading! As usual: I'd love to read your thoughts and comments, perhaps you have an idea for a future Azriel - or any ACOTAR character - fanfiction you'd want me to write. Also, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! <3

[hannieehaee]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSYgDcHDA/

Hellooo,I was wondering what do you think SVTs response would be to this question from their S/O😅

Like who in your opinion would say that boobs are perfectly fine and who would dare to ask why they are small😂

reacting to why your boobs are small(?)

content: boobs, established relationship, teasing, banter, etc.

wc: 554

a/n: i had no idea how to title this reaction lol but here's the tiktok in case anyone wants context (but im pretty sure its deleted now 😭)

masterlist

seungcheol -

confused and lowkey annoyed bc one side of him just doesnt get what you're saying and the other doesn't understand how your size could possibly be used as some sort of critique when he's spent countless nights enjoying them. also maybe a little bothered by the implication that someone may have asked about your boobs.

jeonghan -

you can never catch him off guard. he'd start by shrugging just to get a reaction out of you and proceed to compliment them bc being real .. he's a huge fan of your boobs.

joshua -

immediately clocks it as a tiktok thing and pretends he doesnt know what you mean just to bug you. will say something like 'yeah, they're pretty small, did you never notice before?' only to get smacked at by you. will laugh and apologize, telling you that ofc he doesn't care about the size! he's a man, he just likes your boobs!!

jun -

as the biggest connoisseur of your boobs, he's very well aware of their size and shape. any question as to their size would be met with a curious tilt of his head and maybe even a side eye.

soonyoung -

incredibly confused. would need a step to step explanation as to what you mean like what do you mean?? theyre perfectly sized. would even inadvertently lift up his hands and make a cupping motion to show you how perfectly sized they are only to be stopped by u bc ur in public!!

wonwoo -

a little afraid he might give you the wrong answer so he stays quiet as he thinks about it. ends up deciding on a 'theyre pretty,' to express his opinion on the matter.

jihoon -

also super confused. thinks this is some sort of bf test so he kinda doesnt wanna entertain it bc thats kind of silly ... but he also really likes ur boobs and missed no chance to compliment them (even though he gets red as fuck when he does).

seokmin -

pouts and almost whines at you bc what do you mean??? small??? theyre perfectly sized for him!! he'd react like this to any sort of criticism you had of yourself but your boobs were just a personal subject for him like who and why and when and what do you mean??

mingyu -

he'd literally show you with his own two hands how theyre the perfect handful and roll his eyes at any implication they're not perfectly sized. he takes this kind of stuff very seriously!!

minghao -

rolls his eyes lightheartedly bc he thinks you're being silly. but still, he entertains you and even goes on a long rant about your body being perfect bc its yours.

seungkwan -

huffs, knowing its some sort of trick question, whining at you to stop trying to catch him off guard for tiktok. it'll just turn into a whining competition between the two of you lol.

vernon -

doesn't really understand the question but just assumes its a girl thing and responds accordingly. tells you he has no complaints and is actually quite a big fan of them as they are.

chan -

very confused. literally disregards the question because he just doesnt understand. wont catch on to the joke, but his eyes will keep trailing between you and your boobs bc what do you mean why are they small? they're small? why?

[munefille]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑-

yandere!false angel x gn.reader

cw: gore, death, attempted sa (not by yandere)

2.2k; not proofread bc I believe in myself. based on this imagine.

what were you expecting, venturing this far into the woods at night? there's something stalking you from behind the trees. a terrible beast watches and you are powerless to its mercy. luckily, your prayers are answered; not by god, but by the angel covered in red.

The wind was the first thing you noticed. It was still, not even a breeze licked at your skin, nor a sudden chill digging into your bones. Cold, yes, the cold remained even without the slashing wind. The sun dipped farther and farther below the skyline as you walked, taking with it the last remnants of warmth. You tugged your shawl tighter around your form.

Regret began to seep into you. What were you doing in these dark woods? There could be packs of wolves, or bears, or mountain lions, or another predator searching for a meal out there, you being a prime target. A shudder raced down your spine. As terrifying as the thought of being ripped apart by wild creatures was, you were almost certain it would be worse to be caught by him.

You glanced behind you, into the maw of dark trees and snow covered ground from which you came. Threats of what he promised to do to you should you be found echoed through your mind, motivating you to ignore the weariness in your muscles and push forward.

You chided yourself at your predicament- the huntsman seemed so kind. He promised you a warm bed and a meal for the night while you waited out the snow, mentioning how he understood the difficulty of traveling during the winter months. He made good conversation, although he spoke little of himself. You doubted he would present to be a threat towards you. How wrong you were.

Oh yes, he provided a meal and a bed for you, but neither were out of the kindness of his heart. No, apparently there was an expectation that you were going to service him in some way- to which you promptly refused. It was then that his true nature began to reveal itself. The huntsman grabbed one of his weapons, threatening to get his rightful payment since nothing comes for free. He wasn't going to let you leave otherwise.

You were lucky to have made it out of the door. You booked it, running in whatever direction you were facing, which happened to be the thick, untamed forest. He was searching for you, that much you knew. You could hear the howls of his hunting dogs somewhere behind you, sniffing you out.

Panic was starting to set in. What were you going to do? It was cold, you were running out of stamina, and you had no clue where you were or how long it would take to reach another village. These woods seemed to stretch for hundreds of acres, completely uninhabited by people. It was easy to get lost here you imagined, the tall trees melded into each other at some point. You could be going in one big circle for all you knew.

Besides the clearly psychotic man on your trail, the woods itself concerned you. There was a distinct feeling that said you aren't supposed to be here. As if the trees were going to wrap around your limbs and pull you apart on their own. You knew that was unlikely, but still- something in the back of your mind remained aware of the fact that you were bordering territory that would not welcome you. Maybe it was because you recalled the horror stories of people who entered and never came out- or they returned with not all of them attached.

Another howl cut through the air, snapping you out of your rumination. It was much closer this time. Frighteningly close. Close enough that you wouldn't be able to outrun it from where you were. There was only one other choice- hide. You scanned your surroundings, searching for something that would cover you. There was a small clearing up ahead and woods on both sides of you. The trees were too thin, but there were a couple of fallen ones and an uprooted trunk that created an opening just large enough for you to crawl into and hide behind. It would have to work.

You tucked yourself in, heart hammering frantically in your chest. He was so close now that you could hear his boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow. The chuffs of his dogs resounded in your ears like deafening booms, each one ready to rat you out.

"We could've done this the easy way, you know." The huntsman spoke into the silence, voice dripping with malice. Your heart dropped. Did he know you were nearby?

Your hands covered your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from breathing too loud. You could see him now, he was a couple feet ahead of you in the clearing. A large hunting knife glistened in the moonlight. Heavy realization set in, he was going to kill you.

And there was nothing you could do to stop him.

If you ran, one of his dogs would surely chase after you. You had no weapons to fight him with nor the strength to go against his much more well prepared form. The cold sapped at your energy, making it a chore just to keep yourself alert. The adrenaline helped, but it wouldn't last forever.

You did the only thing you could do. Pray.

You clasped your hands together as you waited, shutting your eyes and mouthing pleas to whoever would answer. Even if you had never been one to pray before, the imminent threat of your mortality was enough to make you chant feverishly for mercy.

And an answer you got.

The huntsman paused, shushing his mutts while sticking his nose up to the sky. Then it happened.

It was almost too quick for you to catch- one minute he was standing in the clearing, the next he was dangling above the trees. A white flash of feathers came down upon him, plucking his form like a mouse caught by a vicious hawk. With a powerful beat of the creature's wings he disappeared out of sight, far above the canopy of the trees. His dogs cried out for their master, but even they retreated into the safety of the brush for fear of being snatched.

One long, haunting death screech pierced the once still air for just a few seconds before abruptly quieting. There was barely any time to process what you saw or what had happened when splatters of red rained down from the sky, staining the white snow like paint on a canvas. Something round and fleshy dropped and landed on the snowy floor with a cracking sound, almost similar to a coconut.

You strained your eyes to see what it was.

A... head.

Not long after the creature swooped back down with the remaining parts of the huntsman, holding his corpse up to its mouth like a cat with a large rat. You shifted ever so slightly from your hidden position where you could get a proper look at it while it seemed distracted.

The scene was horrible, but you couldn't stop the awe that crossed your mind as you gazed at it. Two large, white wings speckled with blood emerged from the pale being's back. So pale it was that it practically blended into the snow.

The more you looked, the more you thought it seemed to appear more humanoid than creature, so reminiscent of the angelic sculptures you would see watching over graveyards. From the great wings, to the long white hair, it was nearly exact to how you would picture heaven's inhabitants to appear. Except, they couldn't capture how overwhelming the presence of it was. Utterly magnetic in a way you couldn't describe, a kind of beauty not defined by humanity.

you've been rescued by an angel.

It came right when you called, in your greatest time of need, like it had already been watching. Like a guardian angel.

Distracted by your realization, you didn't notice eyes locking onto your hiding form.

-

He missed one.

Warm blood trailed down his lips, dripping onto the white ground below. A human thing was hiding in the foliage, behind the broken trees.

He focused back on the body in his grasp. So loud and annoying, parading about his territory, hunting his prey. The deer were already scarce this winter, but the human had scared off the remaining few. Other prey were not as abundant. Humans he did not often approach, but everything was fair game in his domain.

He took a bite of the neck, the flesh tearing apart like filled dough. The metallic taste caused his wings to rustle in delight. He almost forgot the tenderness of human meat, rich with fat and underdeveloped muscles from a life of comfort. As of late, there had been less and less willing to enter the deep woods where he roamed, most likely due to what ends up being leftover of those who do.

His attention is drawn back to the one who tried to hide. Amusing, it hasn't run yet. Maybe it knows that it has no chance if it runs, even in the crowded trees his form is lithe enough to maneuver around the branches much better than the human can. It must've thought that the only viable option is to wait for him to finish and leave. Such a plan might've worked, if he was a much less vigilant predator.

The body is dropped onto the snow with a thud, entrails spilling out of the half eaten man. He was in a good mood, not only was the problematic creature dead but he had just gotten a meal along with it. Maybe he would decide to do something else with the remaining one.

Slowly, he turns his head in the human's direction.

-

The angel is approaching you.

It's now crouched, no longer standing on two legs; instead slinking towards you like a cat. You would be terrified by the sight of this massive creature covered in blood targeting you had you not already made up your mind that is must be your guardian angel.

When it is close enough to reach out to you, it pauses. It cocks its head, temporarily parting the hair covering its face to reveal pale, blanched purple eyes. Its- his- face was decidedly masculine, you thought. The wings on his back are folded close to his form, reducing any drag they could've caused.

Your heart is pumping, but this time not out of fear- no, you're enthralled by this opportunity.

The angel opened his mouth, uttering words that made you freeze.

"Be not afraid."

You think your pulse stopped for a solid moment. The voice was somehow quiet, yet cold and not quite reassuring. It surprised you that he could even speak in the first place. The smell of metallic blood and pine was noticeable. You reach out shakily, just slightly touching his hair. Your fingers meet the white threads, long and thin, like spider webs. The creature flinched in surprise at your boldness, but didn't move away.

The question tumbled out of your mouth before you could regret saying it. "Are you... are you my guardian angel?"

The angel fixed you with an unreadable expression. You thought he was confused for a second, before he stood up to his full height, no longer face to face with your form curled up in the branches. You couldn't help the raw unease that came to you then, he must've been nearly twice your height, taller than any man you had ever seen.

"Angel?" it repeated, looking down at you. "Your angel?"

Your mouth felt dry. The wind started picking up again, gliding through his feathers and into your bones. There were two options being presented to you; either you were right, and this being was an angel, or you were wrong. You didn't want to imagine what was standing before you if you were wrong, especially not after witnessing what became of the huntsman.

He seemed to consider this, staring down at you with strange intensity. His eyes were once again covered by hair, making his expression even more difficult to decipher.

A tense few moments passed before he spoke again. "Would an angel show you mercy? Lead you out of the woods to run back home?"

You nodded your head, still not daring to move. He bends down to pet your head, lips curling up subtly at your reaction.

True to his word, the angel did lead you out of the forest- although you lagged behind significantly and weren't nearly as swift navigating through it. It was a wonder how something so large moved as fast as he did. You were beyond grateful, thanking whatever higher power had listened to you. It was unlikely you would've made it out yourself, even with the huntsman gone. The woods were not friendly to outsiders.

You didn't say a word as you followed, too busy keeping up to ask any more questions. Tiredness overcame you as well now that your survival mode was beginning to wear off, leaving you sluggish and inattentive.

When you reached the treeline outside of the huntsman's cabin, you looked back up at your savior to thank him, only to be met with nothing but the breeze.

"Thank you." You whispered, regardless of whether or not you would be heard. The thought of your experience being a trauma induced hallucination crossed your mind, one you would consider if it wasn't for the fact that there was a large white feather caught by a tree limb beside you.

It was now almost morning. The sun was preparing to rise over the horizon soon.

You trekked your way back home, unaware of the new pair of eyes following you from the sky.

[queen-of-wisdom]

Laurie opened her mouth, a strange sequences of fast breathing left her mouth. She told ST427730RN once that it was a traditional human expression of happiness.

"I once told you that we humans are from Earth, right?"

"Yes, you did. It was also part of our management course."

"That's the answer", said Laurie, her eyes were fixated on a point outsidd the window. ST427730RN follwed her eyes but couldn't see what Laurie was so occupied with.

"That is not a answer", ST427730RN insisted.

"Yes it is; it's not my fault you can't understand it."

Laurie showed her teeth. ST527730RN has to remind itself that it wasn't a sign of hostility but a sign of joy, even if it didn't really understand why Laurie was so happy talking about her destroyed planet of origin.

"No, sorry, that wasn't fair of me", she said. "It's just...hard to explain."

"Try", it said. "For me."

Laurie looked at the blanket. ST527730RN followed her look again. Maybe it has to also ask her what she was always looking at.

"Earth isn't just our planet of origin, for us humans, I mean", Laurie started. "Everything in our cultures is based of the ancestral land on Earth. The food, the stories, the traditions. In some cultures, there's a big emphasis on being buried at the same place as your ancestors, others believe that special spirits live inside the Earth . It's really different. "

"But, Laurie, I do not understand. Did not your planet became unhabitable around a thousand years ago?"

"Yes, that's true but...you know we humans love documentating things, right?"

"You always write your past experiences down right before sleepingh, how could I not know?"

Laurie did her traditional human expression of happiness again.

"Right, right sorry...anyway, the humans of the past did the same. They photographed and described the whole planet. It was beautiful, you know? Really, really beautiful. I grew up watching documentaries of the fish that once lived in the cool oceans and about gigantic forrests with leaves as green as on Orne-te'go, we should watch it together, I'll show you. Then you'll understand too."

Laurie looked it directly into its eyes.

"I do not want to discourage you from your culture", ST527730RN said. "But I really like you, Laurie and the thought of your sadness would transfer to me feeling the same, so I want to remind you that so far, no species ever has reformed a once made inhabitable planet into a habitable one again. It is not possible."

"I'm flattered by your care, '52, I really am, but it's fine, really. I don't expect Earth to become liveable again soon, I just hope that it's soon enough that I don't have to continue the tradition with our grandkids. That I can show them Earth, instead of only watching films about it. I have to hope that. "

"What is this 'hope'? It is a word from your language, correct?"

She showed her teeth. "Yeah, it's a emotion but it's kinda hard to explain."

"Try", ST527730RN said. "For me."

Laurie closed her eyes. Probably to stop distract her from these things she keeps seeing at the blanket or outside in space.

"Hope is...when you wish for your descendants to grow up on Earth, even if it's completely unrealistic by today's standards. It's when you know that something is unlikely to happen but you still believe. Because you have to."

"Why do you have to hope?"

"Because that's how the good future happens."

"You humans have hundreds of planets under your control, so why do you waste so many resources trying to make that Earth planet habital? I genuinely don't understand."

[ivy-elle]

“Do you believe in fate?”

His sudden question cuts through the quiet stillness of the bedroom, and makes you halt.

“How much of Childe’s drinks have you had earlier to ask me about fate now?” you retort, while his hand absentmindedly trails through your hair.

“Shut up, you brat. Just answer the question.”

You stifle a laugh. “Alright.” The sheets rustle as you shift in bed. “Well… that depends, I’d say.”

Scaramouche doesn’t scoff like you’d expect him to. Yet his tone is still gruff, but not mocking. “Fate isn’t a conditional concept.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” he says bluntly, “you either believe in it, or you don’t. Simple as that.”

Your eyes drift to the ceiling, tracing the dim veins of light dancing above. 

“You can’t prove fate exists. It’s only real because you believe in it,” you muse quietly. “But as you said, it’s a concept. If I believe in it, it exits in my mind. So why can’t it be conditional in my mind?”

His brows furrow. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Mhm. Do you believe in fate, then?”

“No.”

“Because you want to be in control of your life?”

“Because I don’t like the idea of someone pulling my strings to their entertainment.”

“So, you deem fate as some sadistic spectator of life.”

“Yes. Which is why I’d rather not give it more power by believing it its existence.”

“That’s an interesting paradox.”

He doesn’t reply right away. Instead, his fingers resume their path through your hair, pensive. Then-

“What do you mean by ‘fate is dependable’?”

You sit up halfway in bed, looking down at him. His hands instinctively settle on your waist, holding you close.

“I mean it like…” You pause, considering on your words, “I like to think of fate as a kind of kick-off. Like a push in the right direction.”

Your finger traces gently along his collarbone as you continue. “But it’s in our hands to find the right path. In the end, we form our own lives.”

“Then tell me,” he mutters, grasping your wrist and pulling you closer, his eyes flickering with intensity, “who decides what’s the right or wrong path? That’s quite the divine arrogance, don’t you think?”

“You’re blind in your utter hatred for the Archons,” you shoot back, lying down next to him again. You rest your head against his chest.

“Can you truly blame me for that?” His arms move around your waist, almost a second nature to have you as near as possible.

“No,” you whisper. “I don’t think I can hold that against you.”

“Whatever damn path I might have been pushed onto, as you said - fate sure has a macabre sense of humour.”

“Maybe,” you murmur, “but your path isn’t done yet.”

“Precisely. And don’t even think about leaving my side any time soon.”

“Mhm, I wouldn’t dare.” Your gaze drifts back to the lights dancing on the ceiling. “Besides, who else would I talk to about the meaning of life in the middle of the night?”

“Shut up.”

Some time passes in which silence settles on you like a warm blanket, while you both ponder on the conversation. When you think he’s already fallen asleep, you quietly speak into the dim room. 

“I like to believe in fate because it means there’s still a kind of mercy in the universe, that wishes for our souls to find some peace.”

Scaramouche doesn’t respond, but you feel his finger gently resting against the pulse point of your wrist.

You close your eyes, a peaceful smile gracing your lips. 

[felassan]

David Gaider on Zevran, under a cut for length:

"I was going to skip over Zevran, honestly, as I felt like I didn't have a lot to tell in the way of stories about him... but I know he still has some (ardent) fans. Plus, on reflection, I thought maybe I DO have a few things to say. 😅 Sooo we'll see how this goes. Zevran came along much later in the DAO process, as we were trying to round out the cast of party members. Alistair and Morrigan were well underway (as "main" characters, they were concepted very early) and I'd just started to consider who our Rogue followers might be when... things changed, a bit. See, BioWare had released a game not long beforehand called Jade Empire. It had included some same-sex options in its romances - not obscured like the way Juhani's "romance" had been hinted at in KotOR, but explicit. To this day, I have no idea who on the Jade Empire team was behind it, or why. More to the point, the same-sex options had received a lot of attention and praise - almost universal praise, in fact. In 2005, everyone was just pleasantly surprised. And I don't recall if I went to James and asked about it or if he came to me to suggest DAO should include it. The latter, I think."

"You might ask "Aren't you gay, Dave? Weren't you already pushing for this?" And the answer to that is, emphatically, "no, not at all". It might seem odd looking through the lens of 2024, but there was no talk of 'representation' or 'diversity'. Not at any level where we were aware of it, anyhow. Today, fans argue about how MUCH representation to include and whether it's done well enough... the idea that, less than twenty years ago, it being included *at all* was very much in doubt feels so far away. But, back then, I'd always assumed my private life and my work in games would never meet. So I think it was James who brought it up, because I remember being startled. Pleasantly so, of course. Now I had to look at our two rogues and figure out how this would apply. I sketched out the female of the two (who was taken on by Sheryl Chee) and then looked at the male - he who became Zevran. I'd been reading about the CIA and one thing that stuck with me was how they'd (allegedly) recruit gay men as assassins because they rarely had familial ties. Zevran wasn't going to be gay (bisexuality wasn't a question of representation, but a cost-benefit compromise) but that was the inspiration."

"Then there was the question of how "flamboyantly" I was writing this character, whether that might be too stereotypical? I don't remember how it arose, but I had too many "flamboyant" friends to do anything other than double down. This character was gonna be Zorro the goddamn Gay Blade, that's what. So that's how Zevran happened. Fun, a bit nihilistic, maybe a bit too overtly flirty for today's audience but very confidently *sexual*. Everything I'm not, so I'll admit it was an interesting exploration to dig down and find that voice somewhere inside. He was the anti-Alistair, and I needed that. Casting him was difficult. Caroline always tried to go for authentic accents, when we could, but for some reason this was getting us nowhere. I think back, and I suspect it's because I hadn't yet learned the lesson to not use terms in casting descriptions I thought were universal... but were not. What do I mean by that? Well, there was one write-up that said "drow elf". Now, I know what a drow elf is. It wasn't even important to the description, but the director saw the word "elf", and you know what we got back? A Keebler elf. Like a leprachaun, high and sweet and cutsie. Can you imagine?"

"In this case, I think it was the use of the word "assassin". Combine that with the sorts of roles many Hispanic actors in LA probably are asked to play, and all the auditions we were getting were 150% dark, mean, and gritty. 🫠 So we widened the casting call a bit, and this led us to Jon Curry. I knew Jon wasn't Hispanic, but what I wasn't prepared for when I flew down to meet the DAO actors was that he's this extremely tall, extremely Nordic looking dude who just happened to do the most amazing Antonio Banderas impression. Watching THAT man channel Zevran was... more than a bit surreal. 😅 And he had fun with it. As soon as we gave him the go ahead to play the fun and flirtiness to the hilt, that's exactly what he did. Over the few days where we found Zevran's voice, it totally supplied me with something I could hold in my head when I went back to Edmonton and finished writing him. Zevran was funny enough that the fans liked him. The only part of the reception I thought odd was the occasional comment by a male player who felt "tricked" into having sex with Zevran. "You mean... that part where he invites you to his tent for a sensual massage?" "Yes! I was expecting a massage!" "He literally says the massage is sensual." "Well he wasn't clear enough!" This is where I first came to the conclusion that a certain number of our players just don't know how to people. And that maybe an adjustment to the way we approached the messaging (or massaging lol) of romance was in order. If I could go back, would I change anything? Maybe I'd remind the systems team Zevran should really be able to pick a lock. And maybe not allow him to die. We had no idea we'd need to import these choices into the future - we kinda thought DAO was "one and done". Not so much, as it turned out. 😁"

[source thread]

David Gaider: "there's something to be said about how Zevran flirted and even had sex with you because he thought that's all he had to offer... not just you, but anyone. And when he realized you wanted something deeper, suddenly he was on unsteady ground and it truly unsettled him. It was fun to explore." [source]

User: "So David - besides loving the fact that the third image you picked is a gay sex scene - what happened in DA2(DAE - come on) with Zevrans design?" David Gaider: "Check the ALT text. It wasn’t a custom sculpt, so that’s as close as they could get it. Which… was not close." [source]

User: "Just to make sure I fully understand: the director (was it the voice director?) saw the word "elf" and thought you were looking for someone high, sweet, and cutesie?" David Gaider: "Yeah, this was from back before we managed VO in-house. The voice director in this case just didn’t have an association with “elf” like some familiar with fantasy would." [source]

[daisymbin]

could you do fluff prompt #27 with woozi 🥹 maybe a birthday related one since its his bday (you might see this past his bday but thats okay! ><)

oh no, I'm late 😭😭😭 but hopefully, I did this prompt justice for jihoon!!!! thank you for requesting 🫶🫶

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // jihoon’s m.list

fluff prompt #27: "did you plan this whole day just to make me happy?"

jihoon wasn’t one for elaborate birthday celebrations. if it were up to him, he’d spend the day in the studio or curled up with a book, far from the fanfare. but you had other plans—and somehow, he found himself being pulled into them.

“why are we here?” he asked, eyeing the quaint record shop you’d led him to.

“you can’t tell me you wouldn’t want to be here,” you said, holding the door open for him. “besides, i thought it’d be fun to pick out something new for your collection.”

jihoon didn’t argue, though he tried to hide the faint flicker of excitement. he wandered through the aisles, his fingers brushing over album covers as he let out a soft hum of approval.

“you’re stalling,” you teased, nudging him gently. “what’s caught your eye?”

he finally pulled out a vinyl, glancing at the cover before turning it in his hands. “this one’s a classic,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“then it’s yours,” you said easily, taking it from him to pay at the counter.

“you don’t have to—” he started, but you shot him a look that silenced him.

“don’t ruin the moment, jihoon,” you teased, and he felt his lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile.

the next stop was a small café tucked away in a quiet corner of the city.

“why here?” he asked as you both settled into a table by the window.

“because they have a build-your-own drink option,” you said, sliding the menu toward him.

jihoon raised a brow. “you think i’m going to do that?”

“you’re picky,” you replied, grinning. “thought you’d appreciate the control.”

he couldn’t argue with that. after some coaxing, he found himself picking out ingredients, customizing a drink to his exact liking. when it arrived, he took a sip and let out a soft hum of approval.

“good?” you asked, watching him with a smile.

“better than i expected,” he admitted, surprising himself.

“see? trust me more,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a triumphant grin.

the last stop was the city observatory, where you led him up a winding staircase to a quiet viewing platform. the city stretched out below, its lights twinkling like scattered stars.

jihoon leaned against the railing, his eyes scanning the skyline. “you really planned all this?”

“maybe,” you said, standing beside him.

“why?” he asked, though the answer was already starting to form in his mind.

you hesitated, your voice soft as you finally said, “it’s your birthday, jihoon. i just thought you deserved something special.”

he blinked, caught off guard by how easily you said it.

“did you plan this whole day just to make me happy?”

you fiddled with the hem of your jacket, your gaze on the city below. “...maybe.”

jihoon stared at you for a moment, his chest tightening with a mix of emotions he didn’t know how to name.

“you didn’t have to do all this,” he said quietly, his voice more tender than usual.

“i know,” you replied, finally looking at him. “but i wanted to.”

he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips twitching into a smirk. “next time, let’s skip the record shop and café and just come straight here.”

“oh?” you tilted your head, your eyes narrowing playfully. “why? did i make it too exhausting for you?”

he shook his head, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “no. i just like spending time with you. and maybe... next time, we can stay a little longer. just us.”

you blinked, and then a small, knowing smile spread across your face. “are you trying to tell me something, jihoon?”

“maybe,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and teasing.

you laughed, the sound bright and warm, and jihoon found himself smiling too, his chest light and full all at once.

[gffa]

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Do you take rec requests? If so, can I ask for your recs for Obi Wan centric fics where Obi Wan is just absolutely adored by everyone around him? Like people love him, think he's great, beautiful, talented, etc. you could also include fics where Anakin isn't one of his adoring fans but he comes around eventually. If you've ever read the Shoulder The Sky series by @kcrabb88 ? Where Anakin is kind of weird about Obi Wan in the beginning but he'd die for him at the end? Yeah like that.

Preferably no Obitine please, and also no order 66, if you would. They can be fix its or maybe they just don't get to order 66 in canon. Long and short is fine. I just want to read fic to justify my absolute rabidity over Obi Wan Kenobi.

Yknow if you're going to answer the ask? Might as well include every fic that you know that portrays Obi Wan very well. Whether everyone thinks so or not, I just want an excuse to fangirl over Obi Wan. Whether it's cute adorable initiate obi wan; smart skilled Padawan Kenobi, best master in the galaxy Kenobi, best general in the gar Kenobi, unfuckwithable Kenobi that everyone knows not to piss off, the Jedi's best member, whatever. Just fics of obi wan being great, whether people acknowledge it and love him, or acknowledge it and go still like prey animals when he looks at them

Hi! Oh, this is going to be a bit of a difficult set, mostly because avoiding Order 66 is a tough one, and I'm not sure how you are with various Obi-Wan pairings (which tend to have some good Obi-Wan fic), but I can at least start you out with a few recs sets I've done that have a lot of Obi-Wan fic and hopefully the Order 66 fic will be pretty avoidable.

My Star Wars fic recs tag (pretty much anything that mentions Obi-Wan in the subject will treat him well)

Obi-Wan Kenobi epic fic

Post-OBW's first two episodes-centric set

It's hard because some of my favorites:

Reprise by Elfpen (absolutely epic time travel fic that does the really good, hard work of showing us the timeline shifting and why it has to be done in baby steps)

Fire and Ice by Yesac (set in an AU where Order 66 happened, but Anakin won the fight and took both Obi-Wan and Padme hostage, and it's about the incredibly long road to recovery from there, which does have some love = attachment minor, minor notes, but has an Obi-Wan characterization that was fundamental to how I see the character)

Aren't necessarily about Order 66, but it does happen in both those fics, as something that's either being avoided or fixing the aftermath of them, and I'm not sure where you stand on such things, since you don't want Order 66. Same for

The Desert Storm by Blue_Sunshine (time travel AU where Order 66 happened in Ben's timeline, but not in the one the fic is set during)

Knightrise by deviantaccumulation (this one includes Order 66 happening on-screen, but it's an AU where more Jedi survive and they go into hiding together to rebuild)

where it's time travel to fix things, is that still over your line? Is it about the other characters that love Obi-Wan or the narrative of the story that loves Obi-Wan, because that would change a lot of the recs I make! Not that he's unloved in them, but Cataclasm by dendral is one of my favorites, but it has Obi-Wan off on his own a lot of the time, so the narrative loves him, but the people around him aren't in the room with him, etc. I also have a Jedi culture set of recs, which you can scroll through to find Obi-Wan mentioned in the summary, it's probably going to be about how much everyone loves him. But some good places to start for you would be:

ruth baulding's Lineage series and then her Legacy series. The first series is an epic length run of adventures when Obi-Wan was a padawan with Qui-Gon, and then the second series is his time teaching Anakin, with more adventures

Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, a fantastic look at Jedi theology, philosophy, and interaction, with Obi-Wan in a prominent role.

Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi stonefreeak, which is crack treated seriously, very Jedi-positive, and while it's an ensemble piece overall, Obi-Wan is very much at the heart of the story and the focus will always come back to him. Just so much fun and very soft on the heart, this is a universe where everything goes right.

Tano and Kenobi by FireflyFish, which is a time travel fic where Ahsoka goes back into the past and becomes Padawan Obi-Wan's Master instead of Qui-Gon. The fic is kind of harsh on Qui-Gon, but if you love the disaster lineage or if you just want more Obi-Wan & Ahsoka, this fic will scratch the itch so good.

Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) Rhiw, another time travel fic where Order 66 did happen, but the fic is about Legends!Obi-Wan taking a different path from what happened in the first Jedi Apprentice book, instead of becoming Qui-Gon's Padawan the way he did in canon, he and Bruck go to Bandomeer and then get wrapped up in an epic story about Obi-Wan slowly changing the galaxy's course.

walk by faith/tell no one what you've seen by Killbothtwins, which is time travel with Obi-Wan after the end of the galactic civil war (the one against the Empire) going back to his 12 year old self and diverting the timeline, with a really great voice for Obi-Wan's character in this fic.

The Uses of a Sandwich by Laura Kaye (laurakaye) is a fun young Padawan Obi-Wan fic where he meets Qui-Gon's first apprentice and has a great sense of comedy.

Uncle Ben and Little Luke by phoenixyfriend which is de-aged!Luke and suddenly alive again!Obi-Wan and is just so much fun for a dynamic that doesn't get enough fic. (NEVER ENOUGH.)

Well Met by avocadomoon is one if you don't mind Obi-Wan/Padme fic, where they develop a friendship and later in life just slowly fall into a relationship, where it's about discussions and politics and philosophy and worldbuilding, it's such a subtle dynamic between them in a way that felt so natural to me. I also enjoyed the author's other fic Anamorphosis just as much, too.

[idkjustlemmedrownlikerab]

Why Regulus dying was crucial to the plot of Art Heist Baby!

It really pisses me off and people say "Omg it's so sad that Regulus never finished the heist, why did the author have to kill him?! He never finished his life's purpose" No it's not,  because that wasn't what he wanted in life, he achieved everything that he wanted.

The story doesn't work if Regulus lives. Art Heist Baby isn't about the heist. I mean it kind of is, that was what drew me into the fanfic, why I read it. But, as I read it, I realized that it's not about the heist, it's about love, it's a love letter from @otrtbs, the author, to art history and to the fandom, and about the love of found family, brothers reuniting, and falling in love and all the sappy stuff.

But Regulus and the readers by extension, have always thought that it's about the heist, that it's about the infamy and being remembered, and that's how he lives forever, the heist gets him his brother back, the heist lets him live forever.

But then in Copenhagen, when he's literally dying, he's having this internal monologue, like, maybe I failed this heist and it's not successful and I didn't do what I wanted and I wasn't the best person, but I was loved,  I am loved and I have loved back, he says that he knows he can take that love with him wherever he goes, even if he's a damn star in the sky, it doesn't matter. He's taking that love with him, it lives on, and that is its own form of immortality. That's what Regulus had been searching for this entire time and even after Regulus dies, James is still there, and Sirius and Barty and Evan hell all the others in the team, and it's like even death can't defeat that kind of love. We see James talking to Regulus every night and recounting memories and keeping Regulus alive in a way, which is what Regulus always wanted!!!! Just not in the way he thought he was going to get it.

I mean, otherwise what's the alternative? Regulus lives and he's happy with James, and maybe that's better than living on an infamy and better than the heist because, well, he's actually alive, but it's not just about love. Regulus and by extension, the reader wouldn't have this moment of realisation like, oh, it's love, love is the answer. Love is what makes all of us a little bit immortal for a little while. That's what it's all about in the end. Not the money or fame or notoriety. Just love. And Regulus dying feels like it was the best way Nat could have driven that point home. Like plz look past the heist, what else is there?

Because Regulus spent his whole life thinking that this was his goal. Just one more heist, that's what he'd always said right? One more heist, this is the last one. This is it. He'll have achieved everything he's ever wanted. Except, it's not what he wanted. Because throughout the story, he gets his brother back, he gets Sirius back in his life after spending years in silent mourning dangling just as precariously as the daunting Degas in the bathroom, he gets his brother back. He sees Barty and Evan who have spent their whole life going back and forth, finally getting together. He watches them grow up and grow together, and he spends his entire life with them. He brings together this group of strangers, this ragtag team of random people that applied via a fucking poster about a lucrative job and watches them bond. He watches relationships form, he connects with the Remus through annotations and books and a shared love for Sirius, he organizes dorlene's proposal and wedding!!!!

He bonds with all these people that he never would have met if he led a normal life, and then he meets James. He meets James Potter, who teaches him everything, who lets him borrow his bravery and shows him that life could be so much more if he wanted it to be, which he does.

"I love you, that's all." His last words, love, that's all. Not the heist, not the drop offs, not the money or the fame or the glory. Love, that's all. He started getting involved with the heists to feel loved, to get the attention that Sirius got from their parents growing up. Some superficial kind of love, and his life ends after he gets real love, platonic and romantic. Love, that's all, not the heist. He died with everything he knew he always wanted but never had the bravery to attain until then. That's why he said maybe he hadn't lived a long life but he lived the best life he could have.

Nat literally told us the reason with Regulus' last words and all of us decided to turn a blind eye to it, yes, yes ik it was heartbreaking to see him die and not live in the house in Brazil with James but we do see them meet again in the epilogue don't we? And let's trust Regulus and the author both when they said

"in every lifetime?"

"in every one."

[levandright]

omg this is my first time doing one of these i’m sorry if my answers aren’t good 😭😭 i’m usually described as very hyper and funny by others, i’m very loyal and i try my best to be nice to others. i love reading and listening to music and watching romcoms. i’m a capricorn. my ideal type is somebody tall, kind, shy and quiet. i also love when they’re chaotic and hyper idk it’s a mix of both maybe??

my favourite trope would be like the boy next door trope and enemies to loves like mixed together but those two separately are also good !! my favourite season is winter and hobbies of mine are reading, writing poems, baking, and beauty related stuff like doing makeup (idk what else 😭)

i would like to be matched up with nct dream !! i’m sorry if the information is confusing once again <3 and congrats on 200 followers !!! 🫶🫶

FINDING YOUR MATCH...

MATCH FOUND! your match is... PARK JISUNG

JISUNG loves how energetic you are, your humor just matches his perfectly. you always have him laughing at one of your quick-witted jokes. being by your side he's albe to unleash his playful and cheeky side. often teasing you in lighthearted and affectionate way that sometimes leave you blushing.

JISUNG is easily able to match your energy when you're both alone, but when you're in a more public setting he easily gets shy. (he can't help it you know!) though he's shy in public doesn't mean he won't go out his comfort zone once a while to see your surprised expression ;). its worth the judging stares of single passerby's he thinks.

JISUNG and you have a tradition of having a snowball fight every winter time, often competing who'll hit the other more. you always win somehow. he's totally not letting your snowball hit him on purpose he says.

JISUNG loves loves building gingerbread houses with you <3 even if he always end up breaking something while making the gingerbread house, his gingerbread house often looking like an earthquake hit it with a 10.0 magnitude. which often times lead you to teasing him, sometimes he'll get all sad and pouty just to make you hug and comfort him(an evil mastermind he is…)

JISUNG wants to bake with you, but one time he almost burned your shared apartment down because he let the oven on for longer than the needed amount, you've banned him from touching the kitchen since (he says he won't do it again though, maybe you should give him another chance-)

JISUNG would let you practice your makeup skills on him, he'll just be staring at your face like some love sick puppy though, you often get flustered if you kept eye contact with him for more than 7 mins.

your custom playlist <3

✮ lev notes : TYSM!! dw it wasn't confusing <3 I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING YOUR MATCHUP hehe :33 hope you'll like the songs i choose for your playlist :D ✮ want to find your own match? apply here! curious about other matches?

[vyl3tpwny]

hihihihi!! im really curious how u go about mixing & mastering ur music cuz ur one of the few artists i know that can make such different songs but keep them consistently loud & not lacking in presence anywhere.. also despite monarch of monsters having alot of noise-rock elements, my eardrums don't bleed as much as when i listen to like jane removers stuff (no offense to her of course !!) so im just curious abt what ur process is like .. do u have any tips regarding mixing/mastering or mayb some resources i should check out? thxx

its a hard question to answer since mixing and mastering is both extremely nebulous and also different from engineer to engineer. for me, i know how to do both traditional engineering as well as stylized producer engineering. because of that, knowing both sides of a spectrum, i can do small adjustments on all ends of that spectrum to bring things closer to unity.

an example of this is because i'm extremely aware of how to work with phase relationships and resonance control, especially in low end mixing with drums and basses, i'm able to get acoustic sounding instruments to sound very beefy almost like im mixing electronic music. i also know how to take synthetic, digital sounds and make them feel more organic and real.

with making noise rock less abrasive but still intense, a lot of it is honestly watching the linear readouts and gently cutting things that get way too loud. rather than letting it all come through, or filtering it all, its just a slow approach of listening for frequencies that are unruly and bringing them down a bit. most eqs kinda suck at this if youre doing a lot of adjustments but fabfilter pro q3 is just the boss and makes shit like this super easy. but this is mostly for my own personal enjoyment. i love shit that makes my ears bleed too.

anyway i always recommend fabfilter products. two other indispensable tools for me this project cycle is oeksound's "soothe2" and "bloom". i tend not to use many shortcut methods of achieving a good mix, but these two get a fair amount of use for just automatically taming high and low frequencies. specifically for high end material i'll use soothe2 to notch out problem frequencies, and bloom to help maintain overall tonal consistency so as not to lose a lot of important frequency information!

[transgenderer]

Would it be ethical to let your children starve to death if you donated all their meals to charity?

Let’s say I have a child that needs surgery, he’s got a disease, he’s gonna die, my insurance company won’t cover it, I’ll need to pay out of pocket, I ask the doctor how much it will be, he says “5k.” What is more moral:

A) spend 5k getting my own child the surgery

B) send 5k to AMF to give anti-malarial nets to Africans

I don’t have another 5k saved up, so it’s one or the other

so, i think these two asks are of a kind, but the latter is neater, so ill answer the latter primarily, with the obvious implications for the former

so, this is a tough question! i think theres a lot of explanations you can come up with, for why your own child is more important. perhaps most significantly, no one else cares about your child, but other people care about as much as you about the statistical african child youre saving. obv problems there, but theres an argument. you could also make all sorts of practical calculations ("calculations") that say the net benefit is higher with your child, whatever, its actually not important

i dont think any of that stuff is the real reason. real reason, is that you care about your child more than you care about the african child, and you want to act in accordance with what you care about. and i dont think thats wrong! or, to the extent that it is "wrong", ethics isn't doing what we want it to. i think ethics, insofar as it is a decision theory, has to include self-interest. that trying to remove self-interest from a decision theory is a...mathematical toy example, and not what ethics is really for or about. so yeah, help your kid! but youre not helping your kid out of altruism, youre helping your kid out of self-interest, and that's fine! the same way its fine to do all the other things out of self-interest.

but there's this other thing, actual altruism, helping people because you think its the right thing to do, even though it will never benefit you outside of warm fuzzies (which, if you were willing to accept delusion, you could get easier), and that thing is valuable, and important, and the human mind must be constantly dragged towards it. but its not the only thing. there are at least two poles in any ethical system i can accept, a pole towards the self and a pole towards the universal Good, and every ethics must be stuck in the tug between them. there might be other poles to. beauty, probably. community, maybe, although i think community is actually just long-term (like, over the course of a life, not long term as in 1000 years) self-interest (which is fine).