#and i think the reasons why he didn't are more interesting than just being a ''monster''

[antianakin]

I don't think the story being about Mon and Luthen means that only their efforts should ever be recognized or that they should be touted as if they're the sole people to have brought the rebellion here and that no one else had any real contribution to make of any value.

Nor am I actually arguing Bail should've had a bigger role in the show. Honestly, I think he probably should've had a SMALLER role in the show. I think it would've been VERY easy to write him out and just not deal with him at all if they didn't actually want him in the story and wanted to keep it laser focused on the characters they actually cared about. You don't NEED to see Bail during Mon's escape from the Senate, it could just as easily have been shown as Mon going to Luthen for help one last time because of how badly Ghorman has shaken or something. Or Luthen choosing to show up because somehow he's heard through his sources that she's going to make a statement or he just knows her well enough to know that this is something that is going to push her to make a statement. I'm not even upset that they chose to have Cassian be the one to save her on Coruscant, and there's canonical reasons why he can't be the one to deliver her so they had to come up with an excuse for it, but there are ways to do that that don't go like "Yeah we got told that Gold Squadron is taking it over even though their own teams botched the first part of the mission and we're just being cut out."

I also don't think he needed to be on Yavin in the last arc at all. He's had next to no impact on Cassian's story and the two of them don't even speak in Rogue One. What does it serve for us to know that they didn't get along when Cassian's conflict with the rebellion can just as easily be shown in his relationship to Draven or even Mon Mothma?

And personally I don't think that the Maya Pei brigade arc adequately explains anything about how Luthen ultimately "chose" Yavin for anything. Cassian knows them already, so clearly Luthen's aware of a rebellion on Yavin long before that mission and hasn't actually tried to set up a base there. Luthen never seems interested in setting up a base at any other point, we never hear him talking about it in any other scene, we don't get to see Cassian reporting back about Yavin or anything like that, either. So at best we're given like Point A of a storyline (Cassian was on Yavin once) and then Point D or E of a storyline (Yavin is now a rebel base) and somehow I'm just supposed to fill in points B and C (somehow Luthen is involved in the rebels being on Yavin as a base) on my own with whatever headcanons I can come up with, but those points are also very important to the emotional narrative because Luthen's involvement in that is key to Cassian's argument in this scene that Luthen is the core of it all and they therefore it to him to believe his information. But that story feels really haphazard and patched together to me, so it doesn't hold any emotional weight when Cassian says "None of us would be here on Yavin if it weren't for Luthen" when it feels like it's coming out of thin air instead of naturally built up. I'm glad you feel like you can fill in those gaps yourself and it doesn't bother you that you have to, but it does bother me.

We've clearly just got different feelings about what the show is trying to say about Bail vs Luthen, and the one thing you chose not to address is Tony Gilroy's words from his interview stating that Mon and Luthen were the "real founders" of the rebellion, which DOES feel to me like it's sort-of dismissing Bail and the established canon that he is in fact the father of the rebellion and while other people certainly CONTRIBUTED, they are not more of a founder than he is or more REAL of a founder than he is. Bail feels shoved into this narrative because they thought they couldn't get away with NOT showing him rather than because they actually WANTED to show him and pay respect to a character who's been around in the narrative for so long. It feels like he got put in there so that they could lift up Mon and Luthen by comparing them to him.

And you're clearly not going to agree with that take, and it might be a bad faith take, but it's the feeling I got from watching it and it soured me to it and unfortunately your personal explanations for why it works for you just don't work for me. I generally get why they did it, what the in-universe explanations are for why certain things happen, I just don't agree with it from a character and writing standpoint.

It seems a little hilarious to me that they have Cassian making the argument that the only reason any of them are here, the only reason the REBELLION exists at all, is because of Luthen... and he's saying it to BAIL FUCKING ORGANA.

I'm sorry, but while I am happy to accept that Luthen did do a LOT of things to keep the rebellion alive and likely recruited quite a few of the people on Yavin to this cause himself and trained them up, there are just as many if not more who are there explicitly because of BAIL ORGANA.

Bail Organa who began fighting the Empire the moment he showed up at the Jedi Temple the night of Order 66 and turned around to save any Jedi he could and then became a GETAWAY DRIVER as Yoda went to assassinate the Emperor and then proceeded to agree to take in Anakin Skywalker's child in order to hide her from the Empire.

Bail Organa who has literally been shown helping recruit the entire Ghost Crew and likely brought on the entire Phoenix Squadon and theoretically the entire Gold Squadron. Bail Organa who was the one who helped Riyo Chuchi try to fight for clone rights. Bail Organa who saw Ahsoka Tano on Naboo for Padme's funeral and immediately turns around to offer her a chance to join the rebellion which she does eventually choose to take. Bail Organa who eventually does allow his own DAUGHTER to join the rebellion and run missions when she's old enough.

You cannot convince me that somehow Luthen Rael is MORE responsible for the creation of the rebellion and its existence and people's involvement in it than Bail Organa. You can't.

[licncourt]

I love your blog! Just curious, why do you consider Louis to be gay? Didn’t Anne Rice say that all vampires are bisexual?

Thank you!! I have a lot to say about this because I feel pretty strongly about it.

The first thing I would say is that the vampire compulsory bisexuality is not actually stated in the books (as far as I recall), it was something Anne yapped about on Facebook. If we took all her Facebook commentary as canon, we'd have to accept some darksided bullshit as well. The other part of this is that even the vampires not having human sex is a retcon from Anne's 90s brainworm, or at least not mentioned at all until QotD and then only briefly/ambiguously. I think TotBT is the first time it's explicitly stated, so I feel like saying vampires have real sexual orientations is reasonable. In IWTV, Louis tells Claudia that human sex is a shadow of feeding, but even though it may be secondary to blood, I always got the impression that he said it to make her feel better, knowing that sex isn't something she'd ever experience.

With all that in mind, I think there's very strong evidence in canon to support reading Louis as a gay man, the first one being that he's the only main male vampire besides Nicki (who also reads as gay to me, though less concretely) who doesn't have relationships with both men and women. The only people he pursues in any way are Lestat and Armand, as well as expressing attraction to Daniel. I would argue that the painter in IWTV and Armand's human blood bag even count here.

He says multiple times in IWTV that he didn't have any romantic feelings for Babette in spite of what Lestat believed, and it always felt like a very sad situation to me. His care for Babette was related to his yearning for human life, but I think it was also a yearning for the human life he specifically could have had. She was the personification of the future he wanted to want. Maybe in another life he could have loved her and she could have been his wife, or he could have at least been content with her company, if not in love with/attracted to her if, in his mind, he was a stronger, better man.

Of course there's Merrick but that was just. Assault. The whole situation was gross and sad and it was clearly a violation of his wishes in terms of making another vampire but also his very real human consent considering the romantic element. It would have been violating regardless of sexuality, but it's interesting that his only relationship with the opposite gender was markedly nonconsensual in comparison to the other male vampires with women (barring Lestat with Akasha).

I also think it just makes a lot of sense with the choices he makes and how he perceives himself. I fully believe that if he'd had any attraction to women, he would have been married or pursuing marriage as a human given his religion, sense of duty, and position as the head of his household. It's also strong subtext in Lestat's pitch to him for becoming a vampire regarding freedom and the alleviation of his suffering and burdens of his human life. He felt Louis' attraction to him in the blood and I think they both understood what Lestat was implying beyond just escaping his grief over Paul. Lestat was offering an out in maybe a more important way as well as being a perfect object of desire and that’s why Louis was SO susceptible to him.

It also shows up in just how at odds Louis is with his desires in general and how deeply his self-loathing and fear of inadequacy impact him. Louis wants nothing more than to be a good little Catholic, and I think if he had the option to just focus on his attraction to women and shove down any feelings for men, he would be a little less wigged out about his own innate and immutable evil given how good he is at denial. He might have even said no to Lestat. It's clear that these desires he can't ignore are a huge preoccupation for him, and if there was a way he COULD kind of ignore it, I think he absolutely would. Instead, it seems like he has no choice but to acknowledge it because there's no alternative and no options except Lestat's offer if he wants to freely act on these feelings. If there was a path for the romance and sex he obviously wants without the guilt, he would have chosen that.

A huge thing I enjoyed about the show was actually that they seemed to observe and agree with this assessment, so I feel extra vindicated. I was clapping and cheering at that scene. I think this subtext is an important part of the Loustat dynamic in the books too and something that feeds into Louis' insecurity and resentment of Lestat. In his mind, Lestat has options he doesn't, the ability to "be good" and find a female partner, and yet he chooses what Louis sees as evil. This is just a thought on my part, but I've always imagined Louis having a harder time seeing Lestat's relationships with women because it's confirmation that he himself is inherently lesser/at a disadvantage because of his exclusive homosexual attraction, and it reinforces his belief that heterosexual relationships are inherently superior and more real. What if the man he loves eventually chooses to be "normal" permanently, because in Louis' mind, why wouldn't he?

[iwoulddieforher]

Sink down beneath | c.novak × siren!a.cabot

why did I write this why did I write this hello??? why did I do that pfff I'm giggling so hard rn ... blame @cns-mari & @khvlani for encouraging this and @hocuspocusbabyy for not stopping me. also, I drew the banner. it was a doodle. don't come for me. probably could've made it better but I am SLEEPY

summary: Casey is lonely, accidentally becomes a monsterfucker because a siren thinks she has pretty hair

warnings for siren!amelia chase very graphically eating peter stone, kidnapping(?), kissing, sirens (obviously???) uhh implied sexual content, horniness ...

There are worse things in life than being unloved, Casey Novak tried to consider.

There are far worse evils than the bitter dread that rose in her throat at the feeling of deep loneliness.

It was hard to tell the ink-colored water apart from the void that was the sky. Where the moonlight was reflected on water, the silver at least revealed the texture of the water far below her- but staring out at the frigid horizon, Casey was too lost in thought to really register it.

Squinting out at the sea, she was lulled into a soothing state of mind by the repetitive rocking motion of the massive vessel she was only another weary passenger in. The water out near the coast of Boston was cold, and the air that carried the scent of saltwater and ocean prickled at her skin as she leaned on the railing, her head nestled in her hands.

Perhaps one of the reasons the cold was so noticeable to her tonight was because her face glistened with the evidence of tears. Not a big deal, or so she convinced herself. She had been crying more recently- so what?

She’d been on this boat for about three days now. She still hadn't seen most of it, and she wasn't even sure why she had said yes to coming here in the first place. All she really did was lay in the silk sheets of her overpriced bed in her small room, one amongst the hundreds that formed the labyrinth of other passengers.

Unlike them, she didn't entertain herself with any of the other accommodies. There were on-board casinos, filled with rows of gambling machines and dozens of tables where rowdy men drank beer while toying with chips and considering cards. There were fine-dining restaurants as well as more modest eating options, red-tinted bars with shelves so high and so full of alcohol it would take only an apocalypse to empty them, hell- even swimming pools and two large theaters. The ship was truly massive, a large contraption that sought to entertain and amaze those, especially ones who had never sailed before.

It took more than that to woo Casey, though. She wasn't quite sure if she’d be awed by anything, anymore, not in the depressive slump she had found herself in recently.

It wasn't like she hadn't been approached, being a single and attractive young woman on a ship where rich man went to have affairs, but the loneliness in her heart had grown so voracious the appeal of any half-hearted attempts of seeking idle companionship had been eaten alongside her will to get out of bed in the morning.

Attending a conference centered around law had been an attempt of hers to refind some sense of purpose. It wasn't that she was dissatisfied with white collar work, but something in it just felt lacking, especially recently. Especially since Charlie died, and she was now alone, and every second reminded of it- especially on this godforsaken ship.

She should've just flown. But that godforsaken hotshot at the DA’s office had invited her to take this stupid fucking cruise line, and the act of being invited somewhere had stunned her so immensely she hadn't thought it an option to say no until she was already locked into the commitment.

Some might say Peter Stone was an interesting man, but Casey found him quite annoying. With his muscular build, stupidly sparkly blue eyes and attractive face, he coasted through life with three women eyeing him at any time. Pretty boy Stone was making a name for himself- but frankly, and Casey knew she was being pretty shallow by thinking it, she wasn't sure if he was truly a good attorney or if the handsome looks and cheeky smiles he flashed at the jury box were doing more than his vocal prowess.

She had the great misfortune of having the room directly beside him, because they had booked under the same package. The sound of a headboard banging harshly against the wall that bordered on hers kept her up at night.

Perhaps she was standing there, then, out of the ship’s board near midnight, because she was hoping he’d tire himself out enough to groggily thrust a bit less forcefully. Perhaps she was simply depressed and thought the sound of waves crashing on the vast hull could soothe her. Perhaps it was neither- the ocean was rather alluring, after all.

“Get away from the railing,” someone demanded harshly behind her, and Casey startled. She spun around, her eyes narrowing with confusion, but it was only an anxious looking sailor.

A young man, who couldn't be older than twenty four. With hair Casey couldn't distinguish the color of under his prim sailor’s hat, he eyed her carefully. He seemed to be searching her face, her body language for something, but when she was nothing but bewildered he seemed rather sheepish.

“Oh, sorry ma’am,” He murmured, tipping his hat respectfully to her, “We’ve just had a lot of jumpers recently. The issue with having a good ship is the wackos keep thinking it's the perfect place to die.”

“That's not me,” Casey clarified, “But if it puts you at ease, I’ll return to my room.”

“Would perhaps be best,” the sailor said, smoothing down his ironed shirt, “it is late, and if anyone were to do something- well, that's why we’re patrolling, isn't it?”

He chuckled wryly, and Casey did her best to offer him a smile. She stepped gently away, the polished wood beneath her shoes clicking softly with her heels as she wandered back inside the maze of identical rooms in long, endless hallways.

Meters below, rounded eyes the color of obsidian surfaced from the depth to watch her go.

Stone was apparently not done with his pursuit, so Casey pulled a pillow over her head, which did nothing to muffle the vibrations of furniture slamming against the wall, and tried her best to fall asleep. Something inside her itched to go back outside, to keep blankly observing the ocean, but she kept herself still.

When she woke, strangely enough, it wasn't from the sound originating from the room beside her, but instead from the utter lack of. Casey sat up groggily, wiping at the salt on her inner eyes, before she started to hear a woman’s concerned, raised voice in the hallway.

Most of her wanted to go back to sleep, but as the voice raised louder, she became rather concerned herself. In her nightgown and tousled hair she crept to the door, opening it just enough to observe the unfolding situation.

“Peter,” a woman was imploring, “Peter, let go of me, what are you doing-?”

His hand was gripped around her wrist, and he was facing away from her, dressed only loosely in his boxers. He was trying to walk down the hallway, towards the door that led to the deck of the ship, and he was acting as though he couldn't hear her- his focus entirely on something else.

“Peter,” she tried again, “Let me go.”

Her voice was firm enough that Casey thought to intrude. She pushed the door open after glancing at the clock on her nightstand- it was three in the morning.

“Hey,” she tried when she stepped into the hallway, squinting in the bright lights of the hallway they never turned off. She hoped the additional presence would be enough to surprise him, and it was- when he turned around, his eyes looked almost manic, almost possessed.

“Casey,” he said as though enthusiastic to see her, “Can't you hear that?”

No, she couldn't. She couldn't hear anything but the faint music still playing from some direction, and the anxious breath of the woman who was clad only in a bra and panties that looked haphazardly pulled on. The back of her hair was mangled- they had just been having sex, but something had seemed to enrapture Peter.

“Come with me,” he said simply, “We need to go out, we need to hear it better. It sounds so … we need to go find it.”

Casey would not be surprised if they had been doing drugs, and they were most definitely drunk. The woman looked tipsy and utterly bewildered, glancing between Casey and Peter- She couldn't hear it either, evidently. She briefly wondered what drug would result in delusions, but whatever it was, she wasn't about to argue him back inside- if she got the woman detached from him, and made sure he got through the night, that was good enough.

She stepped forward and wrapped her hand around the wrist that was clenched around the other woman's, and Peter detached immediately, grabbing onto her instead. With a confused and exhausted shrug she threw over her shoulder, she motioned for the other woman to go get dressed as she began to sleepily pad after Peter so he wouldn't need to be as agitating in the pulling he immediately attempted to begin.

“What does it sound like?” She tried to soothe, and tried to gain a bit more information. Maybe in his doped state he was hearing the music from one of the casinos that hadn't yet closed, and it was confusing him.

“You can't hear her humming?”

He was facing determinedly forward, so she couldn't see his face when he said that, but now she was genuinely worried. He kept walking, his steps large and robotic as though pacing towards something with a time limit on it, and she was starting to walk progressively faster just to keep up with him. No one was humming- no one was around at all, and even then, if someone was humming a hallway away or out on the deck there was absolutely no way he should be able to hear it enough to be so enthralled by it.

“Peter,” she said softly, “maybe we should go back to bed, hmm? I’m sure we can find her tomorrow.”

“No,” he said harshly, whirling around with a glare on his strong brow. “No. I need to find her. If you want to deprive yourself of it you can leave but she’s calling me and I need to find her.”

She stared at him blankly and he turned around with a small grunt.

“She needs me,” he said quietly, stubbornly.

Casey could relate to the drive, the urge, the need to feel wanted by someone. She resigned herself to follow him as she tugged at her, walking as though he simultaneously wanted to drag her with him and also had forgotten he was attaching himself to her arm.

He marched out of the maze of hallways and out onto the deck, her eyes adjusting rather quickly to the darkness outside. The moon was just as beautiful as it was three hours prior when she had been staring at it, the sound of waves just as soothing.

“It's louder,” he told her, “Can't you hear it? She’s so much louder now.”

Casey was used to dealing with Charlie’s psychosis, but this felt bizarrely different. Charlie was paranoid and she had to fight him so he wouldn't hurt himself trying to scratch cameras out of his skin- Peter was adamant of a sound that clearly did not exist.

Until she heard it, too.

It scared her. Her ears had been perked the entire time, half of her hoping she could hear it just to ensure he wasn't slipping into delusions, but only when he started leading her to the starboard side of the ship did she manage to pick up on something.

A faint humming sound. She would've thought it was part of the ship, mechanics humming as gears or electricity burned through the energy it took the deep the ginormous thing moving, until it started adapting to a certain melody.

“I hear it,” she said faintly, almost as though she was scared of it. Perhaps she was. Casey did not fancy herself delusional. Had some of Peter’s drugs managed to rub off on her through… through skin contact? Acid could be transferred in patches, perhaps she was joining in on his psychotic beliefs, and she didn't like the idea of that happening. But it was growing steadily louder the more she tried not to focus on it.

Peter looked ecstatic when he turned around, happy that she finally understood.

“Where is she? We should find her, it isn't good for a woman to be out this late. Even on a ship, bad things can happen to someone so delicate.”

Casey could not conclude that the sound originated from a woman, and especially not identify any characteristics that person would exhibit, from the sound alone. It sounded vaguely like something she had heard before- a lullaby in childhood she had ingrained in her skull, but couldn't remember. There was something about it that was familiar, comforting.

She wanted to find her, too.

“Where’s it coming from?” Casey muttered, rubbing her eyes again and swiveling her head from side to side, hoping one direction would seem louder than the other, but it didn't.

Peter wasn't listening to her. Casey was yanked abruptly, stumbling off her feet as he was pulled towards the railing, and with a sinking feeling Casey realized he was right-

The sound was coming from the water.

She wasn't as far gone as he was- she still thought it best to ignore it, to go back inside, to go back to sleep. She wanted to find the woman but it was clear no human was alive down in the water- and no human voice could carry such a soft melody up the multimeter gap between the edge of the ship and the water far down below. Peter, clearly, was adamant.

“Stop,” she tried, “Peter, wait-”

He was trying to climb up on the cold metal railing, and it was such an odd sight- an esteemed lawyer in only his boxers briefs, one hand gripping Casey’s wrist while the other trying to help him hoist herself over.

With a sinking feeling, Casey tried to struggle against him- she tried to grab around his broad waist and pull him backward, away from the edge, but he was far stronger than her. She wasn't sure if he remembered he was holding on to her, and she wasn't sure if he even realized she was still there.

His eyes were void of anything in the flash of his face she managed to glance at during the brief spar, glazed over but utterly focused on the sound. She couldn't fight him for very long, not when a strong man like him was so adamant, so determined.

Two bodies hit the freezing water of the Boston coast after falling nearly four meters down to meet it.

Casey could swim, but not with waves like this, and not when she was in shock. She couldn't see anything but black around her, the side of the boat and the darkness of the frigid sea only distinguished by the vague flash of light when a wave managed to reflect the cold, all-seeing moon.

She tried to grab Peter's body, and tried to scream, but when she opened her mouth a wave crashed over her head, and she was sucked hopelessly under. She couldn't reach him, even though logically he should still be beside her. She didn't know where he was.

A small chorus of clicks and odd tones, animalistic in nature, was the last thing she could register as her limbs began to lose motivation to fight against the sheer power of the ocean. Casey was sucked under, her eyes stinging with salt as she let her eyes close, and realized with an odd, detached feeling, that she was going to drown.

‘Shoot’, Amelia communicated through a small chorus of undersea clicks made with the back of her vocals, ‘I only wanted a man. I don't like the girlish taste. A waste.’

Although her dialogue was sympathetic, her tone was entirely casual. She didn't care at all that her dinner had accidentally led to the death of another, and Alex wasn't at all surprised by her inability to carefully lure only one prey-thing.

Alex drifted alongside her companion while rolled over belly-up, eyes flickering up at the ship, hoping that no sailor or fellow passenger had picked up the odd incident. It wasn't her turn to eat, and with the bulky man she had snagged last night, she wasn't entirely inclined too.

‘If you were careful, Amelia’, she clicked back, eyes still honed in upwards, ‘You’d stop ending up with waste. Kill her, at least- I’ve heard drowning, for them, is unpleasant.’

‘But it's cute when their little limbs thrash’, Amelia observed, ‘look, Alex- she’s going all still now.’

For the first time, and with a sigh of bubbles that were scattered by the harsh waves as they drifted upwards, Alex shifted her attention from scouting to the body slowly sinking. Amelia was swimming little circles around it, observing, toying. She wasn't dead, not yet. With otherworldly senses like theirs, the sound of this woman’s blood rushing through her veins was echoing and loud. They could hear the heartbeat of the sailors patrolling the ship, the radio on in the Captain’s lounge- figuring out whether she had passed on wasn't at all difficult.

Amelia grinned at her, baring all her sharpened teeth, which were bloodied and the water around her mouth was dotted by gore. The man’s head- the true target- had been slashed off by the talons on her large hands, and she was ripping chunks of fleshy muscle off of it. She liked eating the heads first, as morbid as Alex found that- she said they were her appetizer. Amelia’s tail bumped against the woman's head, toying with her body as the cold water started to seep into the fragile human skin.

With the shift of force Amelia’s tail created, the woman’s head was turned softly into Alex’s direction. Her hair swirled around her head and shoulders, eyes softly closed as if interrupted in the process of her squeezing then shut, her lips parted gently- although she wasn't trying to breathe through her mouth. In unconsciousness, somehow, she was holding her breath.

‘Oh,’ Alex noticed, ‘She’s … pretty.’

She swam forward, propelling herself gently with a small motion of her muscular fins. Her large hands encircled the woman’s face, and she turned it toward her’s in the dark- but again, with eyes like her’s, she could see every detail without any sense of difficulty. Her pupils expanded just barely as she studied the soft curves of the land-creature’s face, glancing down to observe the rest of her body as well. She was taller than most of the other women she had eaten, if they did ever take a woman at all- men were by far easier, so it wasn't that common of an occurrence. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, Alex decided, this woman was incredibly beautiful.

‘Her hair,’ she clicked softly, ‘It’s a very nice color, don't you think?’

‘My hair is also red,’ Amelia whistled back indignantly. She was always interested in the opposite of what Alex was. If Alex’s attention was on the boat, her’s was fixated on the people- if Alex took her suggestion to study the woman instead, Amelia became bored with her.

Red was an uncommon color to the creatures of the sea- to some extent, at least. It was the color of morbid insides, and the color of a few fish’s scales. But a shade of red like this, Alex hadn't ever seen before on an organism.

‘Yours is red like blood,’ Alex corrected. ‘Her hair is like … like the sunset.’

‘Who gives a fuck about the sunset?’ Amelia snorted, her tail flicking just to emphasize her utter disinterest. She had similarly lost focus on the head, which was now slowly drifting downwards to the bottom of the sea, ripped off of the man’s broad shoulders and with the majority of the flesh and hair torn gruesomely off. The other creature was now reoccupying herself with the man’s body instead, jaws elongating as she sank her teeth into flesh and snapped her head back to tear large chunks of it off, eating far messier than Alex ever would.

Alex, too, was gripping the woman’s body with large hands and webbed fingers, but unlike Amelia she was careful not to dig her talons into the soft alabaster skin, not to prick or hurt despite the knowledge the woman wouldn't be able to feel pain in the state of cold shock her body must be in. One hand extended to brush against her hair softly, admiring the texture and feel of it against her rough palms, the way it parted around her claws.

Alex had no intention of eating her, definitely no intention of crudely ripping apart her limbs the way Amelia was currently struggling to dislocate and snap away one of the man’s arms. Amelia’s tendency to toy and disjoint was exactly why a staple of Alex’s diet was now the sharks that came to irritate them, drawn in by the bloodshed that was Amelia’s proud meal.

‘You could always scalp her and keep it,’ Amelia considered with a sly hiss through her teeth, when she realized Alex was still blankly observing the body.

‘Truly a shame,’ Alex whistled quietly as she let the length of her tail brush up against smooth, lithe legs that couldn't help her in a situation like this, ‘Such a gorgeous creature dead, because you suck at hunting properly.’

‘Hey,’ Amelia swirled around, affronted, her expression twisting into one of a more aggressive indignation. She bared her teeth, showing off the length of her fangs, but Alex didn't bother with accepting the chaotics of the younger creature in that regard.

She twisted her neck around, baring her own teeth- a more impressive size than Amelia’s, she noticed with a bit of pride, before parting her jaws and then snapping them shut with emphasis. Amelia recoiled slightly at the vibrations the aggressive motion caused, at the sight of Alex’s fangs. Alex was the more dominant of the two, elder and larger, and despite the fact Amelia's face still resembled stubbornness, with the way her frills flattened submissively against her tail, Amelia knew that too.

The annoyance that was her hunting companion dealt with, Alex considered what exactly she wanted to do with this beautiful woman’s body. She still wasn't dead, surprisingly, which Alex noted was incredibly resilient for a creature so fragile.

She could scalp and detach the parts she liked and keep them, as Amelia suggested, but her hair would quickly lose the glossed shine they exhibited after hours of being exposed to the saltwater world she lived in. Her body wouldn't be warm and soft, death would rob this woman her alluring quality. She could make a kill of mercy, slit her throat with a quick swipe of her claws or a sharp bite with her fangs, let the body join the detached head of her friend that was now but a speck in the distance below them, carried off by a current. She could let her drown and then toss the corpse up to one of the lifeboats, so the family who must love a woman this gorgeous could mourn. She couldn't return her alive, not after she had heard the hum of the sea, not when she could reveal to others what she had heard. They had been warned of allowing one who had heard to survive the night.

But oh- Alex very much wanted to keep her. Wanted to be able to admire her hair, the softness of her skin, the smoothness of her, the warmth a body like this radiated, for just a little bit longer.

Time was running out, she noted, as bubbles left the woman’s lungs and floated up towards the world she had been a part of. She was going to die no matter what Alex did about it, unless she decided to do something quickly.

‘I want her', Alex decided out loud, her tone a chorus of small contemplating clicks, ‘I’m keeping her.’

Amelia flashed her a look that Alex did not respond to, using the easy strength of her powerful muscles to raise the body up towards the air, letting the creature breathe. She didn't wake up, no, but once her lungs were full of air again, Alex clamped a webbed hand over her mouth and nose, diving down- deep, deep down.

When Casey woke up again, she was warm- impossibly warm, but comfortably so. She assumed she must definitely be dead, then, in heaven, to be curled so snuggly up to something radiating such warmth. But her body was sore and ached, and there was stone beneath her.

She felt groggy and odd, as though her brain was not part of her body. Her muscles felt coiled and tight, her mind fogged and each thought surfacing as though squirming through a vat of molasses. Still, she though she must at least attempt to regain her bearings. The last thing she remembered was breathlessness in cold, dark water, but she was breathing air now, and although she was damp, she was most definitely not underwater.

Her eyes blinked open slowly, still stinging with the effect of saltwater. She was expecting to be met with a great light or some kind of angel, only to find large rounded eyes the color of obsidian studying her face with interest.

She tried to scramble backwards but slipped on the slickened rock, wincing as pain jolted through her wrist.

“Shhh,” the thing lulled, tilting its head at her sympathetically, “Come closer- you are so very cold.”

Casey wasn't sure why, but she stopped trying to back away automatically, although her eyes still circled as she tried to take in what exactly she was looking at.

The easiest thing to acknowledge in the environment she had woken up in was the fact she was in a cave. A broad, sprawling cave that seemed to branch out in various directions, although in most ways it seemed to cut off, diving down into an aquatic depth Casey would not be able to explore.

There was one less than three meters away, and from the trail of water on the stone, that must have been where the creature had surfaced- how the thing had brought her in here.

In one direction, though, sunlight snuck its way inside, illuminating a soft glow reflected by what seemed to be sea-polished stones set up around as though someone was decorating the walls. Because of that ray of the sun, Casey was able to fixate her eyes on the creature beside her.

The body was large, lithe, and intrinsically she knew it was incredibly dangerous. The torso was nearly identical to a human’s, and the head too- blonde hair was plastered against the skin of its face, remnants of the water that the creature was slick with. Its face looked almost human, if it wasn't for the sharp teeth and black gums exposed by its gently parted lips- and for the fact that it had no ears, only holes on the sides of its head. Its eyes were mostly pupils, dark and all-encompassing.

The rest of it was significantly not human. A large, thick body like a leopard seal’s- as though where the neck of a seal’s should've been, a human body sprouted. At the end of its tail, large paddle-like fins twitched gently, flicking back and forth the way a cat’s tail tip did. Frills stretched along the sides of the tail, as well as one near the base of its spine.

Its hands were large, webbed and tipped with nails as sharp as daggers. One was secured gently around her waist, urging her closer to the thing’s body, the other resting idly stretched out on the floor as the creature stared up at her, laying on its side.

Her first thought, oddly enough, was that as strange as the creature’s appearance was, it was very beautiful. Its eyes seemed soft despite the danger of the teeth that glinted just barely from inside of its maw. It seemed to be smiling softly, looking at her more attentively than Casey had been perceived in a long while.

“You're warm,” Casey said stupidly, “How are you … so warm?”

“Humans die when too cold,” a clipped, feminine voice spoke from the creature’s mouth, human except for slight inconsistencies in the tone, in the way her mouth moved. Its vocals were different from a human’s, chords built differently with a unique larynx. “I did not want you to die. There exists a hot spring near us; but I did not want you to burn. I do not know how much warm a human can be. I swam around in it until my surface was warm. I hoped that proximity to me while I was warm would warm you, too.”

Casey stared at her, her mouth agape slightly in perplexion. She had realized what this creature was while she spoke- what type of being she was in the presence of.

“A siren,” Casey recognized in a whisper, trying to grapple with what was happening to her. There was no way a faint trace of drug exposure from Peter’s recklessness had caused this intense delusion, but from the pain in her wrist, she knew she wasn't dreaming.

The creature’s face broke into a small, confused smile.

“I did not think you would know of us,” she spoke softly, “I thought we took good precautions.”

“Well, I didn't think you were real,” Casey clarified, her eyebrows scrunching softly. Frankly, with how drowsy and disoriented she felt, she wasn't quite sure she even truly was.

She realized it was now cold as she had backed away- the webbed hand on her waist was the only place she was still warm. In slow, tentative movements, she squirmed a bit closer, and the creature let out a soft sound as if pleased by it.

“Come here,” she twisted her hips slightly, allowing Casey more contact to the softened, slick fur that coated her tail and lower abdomen, “If I wanted to bite, I surely would have.”

“That’s a poor joke,” Casey muttered, “...you most definitely could shred me alive with teeth like that.”

The siren smiled, the large teeth Casey had just mentioned visible as her eyes narrowed with amusement.

Despite her words, she took the offer, pressing the skin that had begun to shiver with cold against the body warmed by water the siren had subjected herself too specifically in Casey’s regard. It was an unfamiliar feeling, unlike the texture of any living creature Casey had ever touched before, but it wasn't unwelcome. One of its arms wrapped around the small of her back, and the other extended to prop up her head softly, keeping her head from needing to rest on the cold floor.

“Do you feel hurt?” The siren asked, a small clicking tone behind the vowels as she tried to pronounce words properly in English- how she could speak English, Casey had no clue.

“What do you mean?” Casey murmured sluggishly, her eyes drifting shut as warmth enveloped her again. Her head did hurt, actually, and her body was sore.

“You fell a great distance off the ship,” the siren considered, “Do you want the hurt away?”

“The hurt away?” Casey echoed, confused, only for the other arm of the siren to catch around her shoulders and for the large body to roll, pulling Casey to rest above her.

Casey felt mildly flustered when she realized the siren’s sternum still held breast, and her head was now only just slightly above them. She squirmed slightly, surprised by the new position and wanting rather to back away again, readjust her bearings, wait until her mind was cleared.

“You are moving,” the siren said, her tail flicking to emphasize the way her voice had grown stern, “Stop.”

“You are naked,” Casey protested, trying to raise her body up, but with the press of strong hands, one on the middle of her spine and the other on the small of her back, she wasn't able to move very much. “Wait,” she paused, realizing her own skin was similarly very exposed, “where the hell did my clothes go?”

“Humans and their customs,” the siren sighed, and although Casey couldn't see her face, she was pretty sure the creature had just rolled her eyes. “What good are clothing pieces in the sea? I do not need them. And you are in clothes. Your on-top clothes were freezing you, I had to take it off if you were to be warm again. It is over there.”

The fins that tipped her tail moved to motion in a direction, and Casey’s eyes scrolled over to observe that her nightgown had been carefully placed against a rock, smoothed against it, to dry. How the siren had managed to get it off of her with talons as sharp as her’s, Casey wasn't sure. She must have been very careful.

“Your underneath-clothes are on, out of respect, because your kind seems to be so panicked when they are not. You are welcome. They were keeping you cold, though. Just so you know.”

Casey realized, yes, her bra and panties still adorned her otherwise bare form. The siren sounded rather exasperated- but then again, Casey supposed, she was right. Soaked, freezing clothes would not have helped her very much. She tried to relax again, tried to settle down onto the warm, muscular body beneath her, but it was a bit hard knowing how close she was to something that looked identical to a human woman's breast.

“Your heart beats fast,” the siren observed in her clipped tone. At first, Casey thought it was making fun of her, but then the siren followed up gently. “It was slow before. I was worried.”

“Why were you worried?” Casey questioned, her brow furrowing slightly. Sirens ate humans, didn't they-? Surely that had been Stone’s fate. Perhaps out of honor to him she shouldn't be cuddling up to this one, but something in her didn't seem to care that much. Not when she was so warm, and apparently so caring.

“I do not like when pretty things die,” the siren muttered after a pause. “And you are pretty.”

“Thank … you?” Casey muttered, slightly distracted as one of the webbed hands raised up, shifting from the middle of her back up to her head to stroke incredibly gently through her damp hair.

“You do not believe it?” The siren said, a question in her tone. Casey pursed her lips, shifting her head slightly, nuzzling deeper into the warmed skin and further into the hand that took such caution trying to touch her.

“Not particularly.”

“Par-tic-u-lar-ly,” the siren repeated, sounding out the syllables. Casey noted that somehow the being below her, too, sounded rather tired. It was daytime judging by the day of sunlight from somewhere above them- perhaps sirens were nocturnal.

“Well, if you were not, you would be drowned. So, evidence, no?”

“Mhm,” Casey considered half-heartedly. “I haven't ever seen a siren before, but by human standards, you're quite beautiful too.”

The siren smiled, and Casey shifted her head up so she could study the human-resembling face again. She had high cheekbones, thin yet pretty eyebrows, and her lips looked soft, her Cupid's bow shaped. Yes, by human standards, a face like that could easily model. Unless she ate the photographer, Casey considered wryly. But for some reason- apparently because the siren found her pretty- she wasn't going to eat her.

“Your cheeks are warm,” the siren noted, and this time she was making fun of her. Casey huffed and placed her face back down, her arms shifted to softly bracket the siren’s human shoulders.

“I will take the hurt away now,” the siren clarified, “So be still, and listen.”

With her ear pressed against the creature’s chest, Casey had no option but to do anything else.

Casey had watched documentaries about the sea before. Apparently the vibrations created by dolphins could soothe nerves- she wondering if the effect of the soft sound created in the chamber of the siren's chest was doing something similar, because the second she started singing- although, Casey wasn't quite sure it could be considered that- the pain was replaced by a flood of an indescribable, soft emotion.

Her voice was softer than the melody Casey had heard on the ship- that one had been alluring, seductive, but in a femme fatality sort of way. This was gentle and encompassing, the soft vibration like honey on her tongue, like being bundled up near a fireplace. Her breathing evened out automatically, and her heart followed suit. As though she was under a weighted blanket, she felt herself relax and fall deeper into the comfort, the webbed hands that now held her.

“Oh, fuck,” Casey groaned, squirming as though trying to get her head even closer to the source of the sound. The siren made something that could only resemble a chuckling sound, but the gentle hum did not stop through it. Her anatomy must be far different than Casey had assumed it to be.

“I like the way your breathing sounds,” the siren noted, and Casey blinked her eyes open deliriously. It was hard to pay attention to anything else when she felt so soothed, energy seeping from her limbs alongside any sense of discomfort or pain, leaving her a content, boneless heap on the siren’s sternum.

“Someone looks happy,” she whispered, webbed hands gently cradling Casey’s face, brushing the soft skin of her cheeks incredibly carefully, as to not accidentally prick her with the claws that tipped each finger. Casey made a small cooing sound in the back of her throat, which Alex smiled at.

“You're talkative,” Casey noted drowsily, glancing down at her. “How are you talking and singing at the same time?”

“I have four lungs,” the siren responded, as if it was obvious. “Two sets. One can speak. One does that. Both for breathing.”

“Aha. I have two … er, one set of lungs. For talking. And … breathing.” Casey mumbled, caught up in the melodious, soothing hum, drowning any sense of logic or thought process she had.

“I know,” the creature soothed, running a curved talon down the length of Casey’s body, making her shiver against it. “I can hear you. I can hear how the blood in your body swirls.”

The hand that was stroking against her side continued exploring softly, the siren content to let Casey bask in the soothing feeling her singing brought as she enjoyed how soft, how warm the human was, now that she had successfully fostered her back to life.

Casey groaned softly when Alex pressed the palm of her hand against her hip, shifting the woman back onto her side and off of her body, so Alex could curl around her. Her tail slipped between Casey’s legs, her hand resuming the previous position- one protecting Casey’s head from the floor, the other wandering around the warmth of her chest, her abdomen, feeling the organs work below her skin. It fascinated her, the way her body was so different from anything under the sea. The pads of her fingers as she explored could feel the pulse of her warm blood beneath her skin.

She had ears that stood outside of her head with little holes in them that held shiny metal, for some reason. Only one heart, but a large one- two lungs, no gills. Arms, legs, with bones inside of them. No fins, but they wouldn’t have had any purpose above water. No tail, although there was a tailbone.

Casey seemed too relaxed, too dazed to care much about the siren’s examination of her form, although her body twitched gently when Alex probed a nail against the soft line of her abdomen.

“There are many nerve-endings there,” Alex muttered to herself more than to Casey, her eyes trained on her lower abdomen, just below her navel. Blood was thrumming there, activated by the sensation of her nail against pale skin. “How interesting.”

“Don't touch,” Casey muttered, and Alex lifted her hand away obediently.

“Nevermind,” that notion had only lasted barely a few seconds, her eyes flickering back open to examine Alex’s own impossibly dark ones, “Keep touching.”

“Is that because I am warm, or because it feels good?” Alex asked quietly, her tail flicking back and forth in a way that made a small thumping sound against the stone below them. She didn't need the answer, not really, with the way Casey’s heart had sped up. But still, it felt more respectful to ask.

The more animalistic part of her, the side that knew technically this animal was something her kind preyed on, was mildly confused why she cared to be respectful. But they could speak the same language, and she had no doubt humans were on par with her intelligence- if not beyond it, even, with their increasingly elaborate inventions- so it was more like holding a captive. But Casey hadn't asked to leave yet. Alex wasn't quite sure what she would do when she did ask to leave, but for now, she got to keep her. She got to have her.

If sirens were anything- they were possessive. Possessive of their social status, protective of the shiny objects they collected to hoard, protective of their meals and their families. How Casey fit into that, she had no clue. She liked thinking, though, that this creature was her’s now. She had saved her from dying, after all.

Humans had rituals for things like that, didn't they? It gave Alex an idea, if Casey would be receptive to it.

“I’ve warmed up enough,” Casey clarified, “It felt good. Do … Do sirens have names? My name is Casey, just so you know. I’m assuming I’ll be here a while, unless you change your mind for a midnight munch.”

“Alex,” Alex responded after a small pause while she tried to figure out how the combination of clicks and whistles that spelled her name would sound like in human-speak, and while her eyebrows raised at the wry joke, “I am called Alex. And I won't eat you.”

Casey’s hands, smaller than Alex’s but not significantly, reached out for a webbed hand and guided it back to her hip. Alex smiled rather smugly and ran her thumb along the bone that jutted out- sirens did not have hips like that. From the breath that left Casey’s nose, Alex could concur that Casey liked that.

“Legs are so interesting,” Alex continued speaking, running her hand down the curve of Casey’s thigh. “How you can balance on them, things like that. Octopi have legs, but they shuffle around on them. You stand. You can walk, run. How … interesting.”

“Gravity,” Casey mumbled, a small huff leaving her nose, her eyebrows scrunching gently as Alex switched to the other of her thighs, “Birds are also bipedal.”

“Birds?” Alex echoed. “Birds fly, with wings. And I see them sit sometimes. They walk?”

“Yes,” Casey said, but she seemed increasingly distracted. “Birds can walk. Surely you’ve heard them walking around on the deck, in the mornings on the ship there’s flocks of them.”

“Oh,” Alex chuckled, “Is that what the little tap-tap-taps are?”

“Yes,” Casey affirmed, twisting to lay on her back instead of her thigh. Her face, though, still was angled in Alex’s direction. Her eyes were half-closed with eyelids that did not resemble Alex’s. Alex blinked with her inner eyelids, the transparent membrane she used to protect her eyes from the saltwater of particularly water-fogged nights when the sea seemed as restless as the hunters who circled for a bite to eat, just to toy with her. As she expected, Casey seemed more focused when she realized a new part of Alex’s anatomy had just been used- Casey was trying to examine her the same way Alex was examining her, but Casey’s hearing was far less advanced.

“Birds do not have legs like this,” Alex noted. “Not so soft and so …”

Casey made a new sound when Alex gently scratched at her exposed inner thigh with her nails, skimming the soft skin, letting her feel the sharp edge. She whimpered. Her eyes squeezed shut and her thighs jerked the slightest bit further open, the muscles in her stomach contracting. Alex smiled, black gums exposed even though Casey couldn't see. She did it again and Casey's head rolled to face the ceiling, another small sound coming from the back of her throat.

“So sensitive,” Alex breathed, her face edging closer. Casey’s jaw clenched.

“People, um- we- … I’m not used to touching there,” Casey tried her best to explain, “Normally only for- for a … purpose, Alex, ...”

“Oh?” Alex questioned, drawing herself even closer still, her front pressing against Casey’s side, and she heard Casey’s heart beat faster at the feeling of her breast. She moved her hand back up, prodding gently at her abdomen, and relishing at the sound of Casey’s groan. “And what might that purpose be?”

Casey’s eyes opened, squinting at the ceiling, and then her head lulled to the side, squinting at Alex’s smug smile instead.

“I, um … it's … you know. People do … things … sometimes too …”

“Silly woman,” the siren cooed, her tail slapping against the cold stone floor with amusement. “You think I do not know what I’m hearing? Your abdomen pulses with arousal.”

Casey’s eyes narrowed, but her pupils expanded slightly with fluster, with surprise. “I…”

“That is what all the nerve endings are for,” Alex reasoned, “that is why you respond so instinctively when I do like this.”

Casey’s jaw parted, her eyebrows furrowing with building emotion, when Alex ran a talon softly down the length of her abdomen, stopping only when interrupted by the waistband of her underwear.

“Is that what your song does?” Casey argued breathlessly, sitting up, and Alex removed her hand from her body as she watched her shift her torso up in a way Alex was literally unable to do. “... makes me- aroused? Complacent?”

“No,” Alex said seriously, yawning submissively and ducking her head, before remembering Casey probably wouldn't understand that. “Siren song cannot make you feel anything other than curiosity for its source, or soothe your nerves. Slightly altered, and can make you feel painless, so- good, but not good in that way. Only two purposes. And I wasn't singing to pique your interest, because, well, you are already next to me. It would be pointless to make you try to follow me while I am … directly beside you.”

“So I'm getting horny for an evil version of a mermaid only because the evil version of a mermaid is touching me right?” Casey said dryly, rubbing her forehead with her hand. “Jesus. I knew I felt lonely, but that's…”

Alex made several indignant clicks in her throat, siren-speak, before switching back to English- although Casey couldn't shake the feeling she had just been cursed out.

“I am not,” she said firmly, “an evil version of a mermaid. Those things are-” she cursed again in a language Casey couldn't understand, “annoying and they are fish. I’m a- … words …- mammal. Like you. Not fish. And horny? You have to translate that.”

“Aroused,” Casey said wryly, “Horny means aroused.”

Alex’s lips curved upwards and Casey knew she was being smirked at, but she couldn't pull her eyes away from her lips- pink, just like a human’s were. From the waist up, with the exclusion of her lack of ears, spiked teeth, incredibly large pupils and webbed hands, Alex looked entirely human. It did not help the fact she was struggling to admit she liked the way Alex’s hands felt on her skin when the siren touched her so carefully, so intentionally.

“Your heart is beating quite fast,” Alex agreed, pushing her torso up with her arms as best she could, and Casey tried not to glance down at what else she had that looked like a person’s. Alex scoffed softly, her eyebrows raising- of course she would notice.

Her tail interrupted the silence as she dragged it around to curve at the other side of her, her fins tapping restlessly against the floor, making small sounds at the water that must have ended up there from when Alex had dragged herself out of the unending pool beside them.

“Do sirens kiss?” Casey asked impulsively, her voice suddenly a bit shy.

Alex laughed at her.

“I am not against trying it,” Alex smiled, “Although I have not before.”

Casey bit her lip, averting her eyes as her cheeks colored further, tucking her knees up to her chest. Within what she assumed was a few hours, she had gone from feeling utterly alone in the world to having a creature of mythological legend down to … what, kiss her?

“Why?” Casey asked, fixing her eyes on Alex’s again, a note of accusation in her voice. Lawyerly, like she was cross examining someone’s motive. She knew she was powerless against a creature as strong as a siren was, but if Alex was completely against hurting her, it wouldn't hurt to try to regain a sense of control. Alex seemed to want Casey’s consent, after all. She seemed to be caring towards her, despite being a literal maneater.

Alex seemed to falter, slightly. She didn't have eyelids like Casey did, so her face scrunched slightly like a seal’s when she made an exaggerated blink. Her flirtatious pursuit seemed to pause.

Her tail fins flicked back and forth like an anxious cat’s- Casey found herself watching the movement as Alex thought how to phrase herself.

“I take pretty stones here,” she said, tilting her head to motion towards the formations that glinted light that Casey had noted to herself earlier. “I like thinking that they are mine. You are a pretty thing, and from our speaking, I find your mind also enthralling. I … want you to be mine. When humans want someone to be theirs, they do that, don't they? So I want to.”

“Objectifying a woman by comparing her to a pretty stone is inherently misogynistic.” Casey clarified, and Alex’s face scrunched immediately with confusion. As good English as the siren was capable of, those words were too big for her.

“Doesn't matter,” Casey shook her head with a snort, making the decision aloud.

She’d slept with people for worse reasons.

She parted her legs and extended her arms, inviting Alex to drag her much larger body between them. “Come here.”

It was much harder for Alex to move on land, although there was absolutely no doubt that she was lithe and agile in the water. Her arms were barely strong enough to drag her forward, so she bounced once, her larger body weighed down with a tail that moved only awkwardly when held down by the weight of gravity. Casey would chuckle, but that felt kind of rude. Besides, once Alex was so much closer, the thought quickly left her mind.

Alex did not know how to kiss, but apparently she knew the gist of it, because her lips parted slightly once her face was only a few inches away from Casey’s own. Casey led at first, then, cupping the smooth skin of Alex’s face with her hands and pressing her lips against hers.

At some point, the temperature dynamic had switched. Alex’s warmth, gained from circling around in a hot spring until she grew uncomfortable with the heat, had subsided. Casey’s body had warmed back up, and unlike sirens, her skin- softer and much thinner- radiated it. Alex seemed enraptured by it, pressing herself closer immediately, sliding her arms over Casey’s knees. Her bare chest pressed up against Casey’s, and the human woman groaned into Alex's mouth.

She tasted like saltwater, which seemed obvious. Her face was cool under Casey’s hands, perpetually damp but not in a way that felt repelling. She drew her closer, her tongue carefully examining Alex’s- when Alex countered, Casey realized a siren tongue was slightly longer.

Alex’s confidence had grown. Her tongue pushed Casey’s back, and she kissed more intently, now that she figured out what she was doing. She shifted the weight of her torso to one arm, her tail curving to the opposite side to try to balance it, so one of her hands would be freed to grasp at Casey’s shoulder, thumb extending over to brush at her collar.

Alex remembered humans could not breathe through anything but their noses when Casey pushed her shoulders lightly, separating them so she could pant, her face flushed. Alex watched her breathe with widened eyes, as if the act was enchanting to her.

“Do you not breathe through your nose?” Casey mumbled breathlessly, leaning her head back against a conveniently ridge of rock behind her. Alex shook her head, her free hand leaving Casey’s shoulder to point at her neck, and at a space somewhere below where her hips would be if she was human. Anatomy that vaguely resembled a whale’s blowhole was offered up for Casey’s inspection. Alex had said she had four lungs, and apparently two of them were much below where Casey had expected them to be- closer to the base of her tail. Alex could probably hold her breath for hours with a body like that, so even if she had needed to use the nose on her face, she wouldn't need too for far longer than Casey.

“What’s this for, then?” Casey wondered out loud, her hand drifting to trace the gentle slope.

A smile showed the edges of teeth that had just been pressed up against her's.

“To make me more attractive to you.”

“It worked,” the woman responded with a snort. Alex kept grinning.

“Some people,” the siren said slowly- the part that went ‘that I’ve eaten’ went unsaid- “have markings on the curve of their necks like someone had sucked on them. I understood it was for this purpose. May I try?”

Casey hesitated only briefly before brushing her hair over her shoulders, tilting her head to the side to expose her neck. Alex’s dark eyes told her she'd be gentle- and besides, with how careful she had touched her before with talons like razors extending from each tapered finger, Casey supposed she didn't need to be scared of her now. Still, her heart beat faster in her chest, her breath coming in shallow pants.

Cold lips attached to the point at which her neck connected to her collar, and she clenched her jaw not to whimper. Alex suckled incredibly gently, so gently that Casey had to press her hand to the siren's blonde head just to encourage her on.

Alex seemed very satisfied when she detached, pressing another softer kiss to the same point as she admired the mark she had made, the faint bruise blooming and standing out on Casey's pale skin.

“If you had nails like mine you could scar me,” Alex murmured, her eyes flickering from Casey’s neck to her eyes and back again, “That is what we do to mark ours.”

“I’ll settle for this,” Casey said with a small burst of courage, brushing blonde hair plastered against smooth, thick skin out of the way to suck her own mark where the siren’s jaw met her throat.

Alex made an odd mewling sound, as if her breath had caught somewhere between the siren vocals and the human-mimicking ones. Casey smiled against her skin and kept going, pressing kisses against her skin, until Alex made a small pattern of clicking sounds. She was cursing at her again- in a better way, this time.

“Your fins..” Casey noted quietly. The frills along Alex’s tail had unfurled, holding themselves up impressively on the appendage. The webbing between them was soft, pink like her lips, like the webbing between the fingers she had placed back on Casey’s thigh.

“I am… aroused, too,” Alex murmured as though she was faintly embarrassed by it, and had only just now realized.

It was Casey’s turn to smile smugly at her. Her frills stretched even further open, swaying back and forth as if unconsciously trying to show herself off. An intrinsic eagerness to display something, as observable as the thrum of blood in Casey’s lower body was to Alex’s ear.

“I want you,” Alex breathed, her eyes blowing wide with a sudden burst of energetic desire, her tone different- rambled, needy. “And I want to make you want me.”

Her body was shifting now, adrenaline seeping into inhuman veins and resulting in something that could only be described as a squirm as Alex tried to press her torso closer against Casey- and Casey, god, could barely process that she had a beast-creature, a literal siren, squirming for her.

“I already do,” Casey responded automatically, without giving herself the chance to be muffled or sly or at all smart about it.

Alex bared her teeth, a show of dominance the way she had shown off to Amelia hours prior, and she was about to slink back- Casey probably wouldn't perceive that gesture properly, after all- before realizing Casey’s breath had caught and the blood was rushing to her abdomen faster. She liked her display of teeth and talons and power. She liked her.

“How does this work?” Casey murmured in a breath higher than anything she had heard from her before, “I- I don't think, with talons like yours, you could- touch me like that. You don't have a dick, do you?”

“I have a tongue,” Alex responded, as if that, too, was obvious. “And I am very sure you will find I am good at using it.”

There are worse things in life than being eaten out by a siren who wanted her, Casey considered, but not with a scoff.

Ultimately, yes- Alex turned out to be quite good at using it.

[pigeondefender01]

Honestly really happy about more people talking about the mischaracterization of Simon. Idk I think its a real interesting topic especially because Simon is my fav character and because we never did a deep dive/analysis of the characters during my lotf unit at school. (We kinda just characterized Jack is just evil, and Ralph as bad but like much better than Jack lol)

And it sucks because even though I'm not the best at character analysis I love doing it and I know Simon has a lot to be analysed about him. (Sigh if only I didn't forget like 90% of the book 😔) but also I love giving him flaws like being nosy, eavesdropping, keeping silent about issues, etc idk I'm just having a blast giving him flaws but I hope people give him flaws that like. Actually have an effect/impact

Same goes for Jack because even though I don't like him that much I love seeing people talk about how he's multi-dimensional and not just the spawn of Satan. Honestly really like those rare (?) posts that allow him to have moments of vulnerability or times where he'd actually express concern for other people. (Would be pretty difficult to label a 12 year old with a far from fully developed mind as evil)

I don't know why but I'm always the most interested in these two fellas. I still find rambles about Piggy and Ralph quite interesting but for whatever reason I think Jack and Simon are the most fascinating which has reminded me that I'm supposed to be doing research on schizophrenia and NPD for the both of them

[0viraptoraskblog]

How do you think btd/tpof characters would react to a chubby MC being insecure about her weight?? I think I saw Lawrence likes chubby people or something, I don't remember it quite well but I'm curious about how'd he take mc being insecure about it, I love your account, thanks you so much for bringing all this btd/tpod content!! 💗💗💗 (english is no my first language so I'm sorry if I didn't choose the correct words 😞)

I hope you don’t mind I combined these two.

I did talk about that a little in This ask, so if I don’t answer their initial reaction for a character it’s because I’ve already explained it there— just so I don’t have to write it out twice :)

Strade- Strade likes all body types pretty equally, he only tends to avoid those stronger than him. He’d treat you more or less the same if you’re chubby. If you’re shy or insecure, he actually would give you good advice, believe it or not. He’ll explain how you’re great the way you are, and there’s no reason to be insecure. He’s not skinny himself, either.

Ren- (see post) Ren might think it’s kind of cute that you’re insecure, but he’ll give you his speech about being yourself and tell you you’re perfect how you are. Even if you don’t believe him at first, you won’t be able to deny it forever, it’s clear that he does like you and thinks you’re attractive.

Lawrence- (see post) if you were insecure about it, Lawrence would honestly focus more on his opinion of you than yours. He knows you’re beautiful, and he just won’t listen to you talk bad about yourself.

Sano- Sano would see no problem with it, so long as you’re healthy in general. If you’re really insecure.. he could always offer to make alterations, of course.

Akira- Akira is fond of all body types. I think he’d find someone chubby cute, similarly to Ren. If you’re insecure, he may laugh because you look cute when you’re unsure, but he’ll also give you a compliment here or there.

Vincent- Vincent, as I’ve mentioned before, likes people that are smaller than him. Skinny or chubby, as long as you’re a small person, he won’t discriminate. Yeah, he likes different aspects of your appearance than someone like Farz, but he still likes it.

Cain- I think Cain is pretty indifferent, like Rire. He cares more about being entertained than visually pleased.

Rire- nothing really will change. He’s more focused on what you do, not what you look like. If you’re interesting, what does body type matter? Human bodies are so limiting anyway, he barely bothers to make a preference on them.

Derek- (see post) He’ll likely put you down for it constantly. It’s not even personal at this point, he just likes body shaming. If you’re insecure? Oh, insults double time. Especially if you’re in front of others— he’ll never miss an opportunity to make you feel ashamed. At night though when you two are alone, you may notice he likes touching your thighs or belly. So he might be a hypocrite.

Celia- (see post) if you were insecure about it, she’d just laugh softly and tell you just how cute you are. It won’t reassure you or put you down, just leave you wondering what to make of that.

Mason- Mason might try to avoid anyone he sees as too overweight, just because he wants someone athletic. But being chubby doesn’t mean you can’t be! If he saw enough spark in you to purchase you, regardless of body type, he likes you all the same. If you were insecure, he’d probably give you practical reasons why you’re fine the way you are. Having more body fat means you store more energy and are warmer for the winter months (that sort of thing.. he still views you a little bit like his prey). It’s meant as a compliment, though.

Also, I just realized I forgot Fox on that original post. But he’s the same with young Ren!

[inejinn]

Sunset

---------- ͙͘͡★

Drops of light are slowly painting the room orange. The tower's living room is the best place to see the shifts of the sky.

The rooftop? Even more so. There's no windows reflecting the inside of the tower there.

Yet here Yelena admire the way the sun is coloring the sky. On the couch. On her back, legs propped up on its backrest and head off of it, consequently upside down.

The reason? Because of Bob and roofs and low spirit reasons.

Last time he found her there, appreciating nature's spectacle, he joined: she got free with her words, like it naturally tends to come to with them both. She didn't think that'd be the temporary end of her sky session, but, well. Bob has his worry come easily

They used to be unaware what would happen if you were injured previously to stepping into the void: they do now.

Bob actually end up snitching on her to Bucky accidentally , too, and now they won't leave her alone about risk-taking, and sacrifices-pulling, and all of the flock of things like that. They already kind of were since she willingly walked into the void, but it's turned way more evident now. It's honestly annoying sometimes.

(She now usually avoids getting on rooftops on her own anyway. It helps keep Bob at ease, and it's not like the feeling of the wind in her hair is what she used to focus on)

It's actually pretty funny, because they've pretty much all been active walking kamikaze suicide threat at some point in their life, and yet here they are, all offering clumsy mental healthcare advice and not always applying them to themselves . Bunch of hypocrites.

Herself included. She's clunkily advising around like a baby learning how to walk as well.

"Hey, the sun's looking nice from upside down", she informs no one in particular.

Bucky barely looks up from the book in his hands. Mix of ignoring her and really being entranced by his lecture, judging by the way his shoulders are pretty much not tense with any frustration or anything else right now.

Apparently he picked up a new serie recently. This cover's definitely not the same type of design as the previous one was.

Maybe she should too. She wouldn't mind getting into one aswell.

She'll probably ask him later for reqs, if she still want to pick up a new thing to do then . But right now..

The sun's shining on Bucky now, decided on making him squint at the words on the pages before disappearing for the day. It makes his hair kind of golden, shining trhough, since he's turned away from the sunset.

"Ever thought about going ginger?", She asks the previously (until now) focused man.

"Is one of you ever going to explain your cucumber joke?"

What an odd change of subject. She can totally tell where it is leading the conversation.

"Uh, no?"

"There's your answer"

"Okayyy, I get it", she drawls. "I don't think it'd fit you anyway. You'd have to bleach your hair and it'd turn out.."

And just like that, she lost eye contact, because he's back to reading already.

Probbing, she goes "Do you think the void would bleach your hair? it did unbleach Bob's". She's still wondering how that happened and why the fuck that happened, by the way.

Bucky's eyebrows furrows. "The void isn't a hairdresser.", he answers, wich most definitely means he doesn't want his hair bleached. Or wants to keep reading his book. He must have reached an interesting moment, because he usually keeps the conversation going a little more than that.

Eh. That's fine, she'll get back to annoying him later then.

"I am absolutely okay being the best and only blonde team-member out there anyways", she wraps up the conversation.

And she goes back to giving the sunset her full attention, blood still rushing to her head. Just hanging out like she's a bat, gazing at the sun in Bucky's quiet company.

Except she doesn't mind looking at the sun, like a bat would. Just hanging down like a vampire, then.

That doesn't fit very well either, since vampires mind the sun aswell, but darkness will be there and stay there until the next day soon any minutes now, so it's not like her bad metaphors are that much of a problem.

The sky's still pink. It'll probably be a deep blue, soon, then she'll probably leave the room to go to her own. Or she'll stay hanging there a little more. Bucky's probably going to switch on the light to keep reading. Or she could stays in the dark aswell if he doesn't. She wouldn't mind.

Or, rather- Fuck, she can't. Someone would definitely mind.

She has her little baby Hammy to feed sometime this evening rather than this night, and to feed herself aswell . Wich means she's going to have to move to the kitchen table at some point soon. As soon as the sun will be down and the sunset done.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- (i need to add a pretty separator later but i just want to sleep right now okay)

Hi! For clarification: I don't headcanon Yelena as suicidal anymore, or as actively suicidal but I do believe she used to have passive suicidal thoughts, as in "well I possibly could die doing that but, hey, that's how life goes" . So the team here aren't actively running a suicide sensibilisation campaign, but they're not ignoring it either! ALSO: Hammy is what i decided to call her guinea's pig ! i'll most likely do a oneshot explaing its name someday :D

------ ͙͘͡★

Tagging/credits: @hurtspideyparker : ty for letting me use one of your headcanons! will definitely be doing it again (the one where yelena eats her meals with her guinnea pig at the table it's such a cute one)

[conclaveyaoi]

just thought I could add my perspective to this, if it is worth anything each of you will be the judge of that. in what concerns the "caught up in the old man yaoi and forgot what the catholic church was" and "liberal? this is the catholic church" and "new pope covered up scandals fork found in the kitchen?" feelings and the extent of which they relate to your personal experience in enjoying the material and the fandom, I have found myself dumbfounded at the thought that the history of corruption and sex scandals would be news to anyone or that, actually, being aware of reality wasn't the baseline before watching the film and reading the book. in my first watch I actually joked to my best friend saying "I loved it and this was made for me but I wonder if some sort of catholicism 101 will be a pre-requisite for non-catholics".

this reality is mentioned throughout the movie and book over and over by several different characters. this reality is part of lawrence's existential crisis and ultimately the root for several of incredibly interesting questions the story brings to the table. in fact, in my personal experience, it was writing my first lawrellini smut, funny as it sounds, that removed the heavy religious trauma weight I didn't even realise I carried. I'm a much calmer, more in tune with my principles person than I was before the movie and people told me on ao3 about similar experiences and thanked me for it, others hated the film, some enjoyed but don't feel comfortable interacting with the fandom. each of us will define individually how much we want to be using the grim parts of reality/history as backdrop for our fanfiction but awareness as baseline avoids "oh no! I focused too much on the old man yaoi and now that I stumbled upon the history of corruption and horror of this centuries-long political institution I'm panicking and will return to focus on the old man yaoi pretending this isn't true". it is true. I'll say it again for all the victims: it is true. so is the aid the vatican is sending to gaza and ukraine. so was francisco (much to my surprise!) criticising the us administration more explicitly than many progressive european leaders, one of whom is keir starmer from the labour party. so what? it cancels out? never. never. never. you see, when we're kids we want reality to fit archetypes from animation. when we're adults we can point out the hypocrisy around, including in ourselves. robert harris writes knowing it isn't simple and seems to be interested in the existential crisis from within. it is a reminder the institution is made of people and people are people. when I write my fanfiction, I'm interested in these fictional adult characters as people and the nuanced circumstances they are in, including the reasons why they chose to be in them. human and humane in my native language are the same word so I've always preferred english because of the distinction.

to me, being aware of what's morally reprehensible in reality (a necessity!) does not diminish or take away in any way whatsoever enjoying the incredible art, fanfiction, conversations and meeting the lovely people I'm glad I met so far thanks to this fictional story. my blog is +18 not just because of smut but also because I don't see how teenagers can interact with this material without the critical thinking required. I know teenage me wouldn't have. I don't think the answer is then in dumbing down the source material or diluding the realness of it until it becomes disney content. we're adults. let's be adults.

to give a serious answer to the memes: I have no horse in this race and am fed up with all the news cycle but yes, he's liberal in the context of vatican politics which has its own overton window. is this a discussion you want to have? nice but you can't apply the american overton window (holds back a concerned chuckle) to the british overton window, much less to the vatican one. so yes he is a liberal as a cleric in the vatican. and republicans in the us refer to a political party while republicans in the uk is a term used for abolishing the monarchy. fork found in the kitchen, yes indeed, which doesn't need to mean nothing more than awareness of such in the context of our fandom. enjoy the movie, write bellesco, ship joe and sister agnes. the vatican is a very interesting institution with a set of rules and gay subculture that appeal to me and it's been very fun to share this with you. I watched conclave, wrote lawrellini fucking, overcame the immature anger in my religious trauma and now am fascinated by the whole ordeal as an atheist. I find it funny but I don't see any contradiction in this. being "catholic-atheist" (because one can't escape the cultural aspect of it, spoiler alert) doesn't make me morally above catholics, it just make me a non-catholic who is a conclave fan.

if this feels like a "dear reader" letter and if my advice is worth anything: let the awareness of reality be the starting point and go on from that. that was the case for me due to having a headstart so to speak ie. my catholic background. as the record shows, pushing the dirt to under the rug isn't the best way to handle anything. they would know.

[barrygeuse]

s2 of arcane was a major disappointment to me all things considered. it was gorgeous and i can't deny that; i fully enjoyed watching it, but its plot was overcrowded and it completely abandoned everything that happened in s1. silco and vander's sacrifices, the fight for zaun's independence.. it was all completely undermined by the war. countless lives lost and for what? we got a glimpse of what zaun and piltover could have been, but in our timeline everyone was fighting the arcane and ambessa rather than the oppressive piltover. it wasn't about the undercity and topside anymore. it just felt kind of nothingburger to me which was disappointing considering how much the first season elicited emotion

[enjoyvoidblack]

I have a lot of Thoughts about the issue of Jon's humanity. There's a lot made of how he's not human anymore in seasons 3 and 4, before and after the coma, and I could debate the usefulness of "human" as a term for morality and connectedness all day, but that's not the point. Regardless of the presentation, some sort of disconnect between him and the others is definitely there. By mid- season 4 he is fully leaning into feeding on the fears of others, into being something more of the horrors he knows than of the people around him, and that's not a shift that came from nothing. However. My hot take is this: I think Jon's disconnect both exists, and is also entirely for human reasons.

Up until season 4 Jon is three things. He is confused, afraid, and wildly out of his depth. His arc is a constant scramble to figure out what's going on three steps behind the curve, getting in too deep before he even knows what he's getting into, losing people before he even fully nails down what he lost them to. Tim sees him as uncaring because he's isolated and not acting to help matters, but that's because he doesn't know enough to help, and he's leaning hard into figuring that out instead of being around for emotional support - which is...debatably the wrong approach, but also extremely in character. One of the only things he took initiative on was smashing that table, and we all know how that turned out. By season 3, he's antsy enough with how little he knows and how little he can do that he shows up on Jude Perry's doorstep in the hopes that she'll be merciful. Point being: this man doesn't have the first clue what he's been pulled into, and the game he's been playing is nothing more than trying desperately to figure it out just in time for the next big thing to go less devastatingly wrong.

Then he dies.

Then, he wakes up feeling on top of it.

He says in the episodes after the coma that he feels revitalized. He feels in control. He finally feels like he fits with all of this. He is more of what's happening around him than he is a victim now, and that feels good. He can escape the coffin, he can square up with Jarod, he is self-assured and has tools of his own to truly know things for the first time in years. Just imagine that for a second. Imagine the most uncertain, most uneasy, most fearful time in your life, stretched over years feeling like people you know (or you!) (or the whole world!) are going to die if you can't solve a puzzle you don't even know the shape of it yet, and then somebody takes off your blindfold. You don't have to feel around for the pieces anymore. You can just see them, and move them.

Of course you're going to reach for them. Of course you're going to take the first sense of real control you've felt in years and lean into it. ...Maybe, depending on who you are and whether you have anyone around you who's willing to check you, even if you break a few eggs to make an omelette along the way. Even if those eggs are people who see you in their sleep and wake up screaming. Especially if you've spent those last few years absorbing every minute of your predecessor's recorded words on the importance of being ruthless in order to save the world.

Jon didn't start leaning into his abilities regardless of the cost because he's a monster. Jon did that because he's human, and scared, and then handed a means of relieving that fear. Better to be a wolf than a sheep. Better still, if you can convince yourself (with the help of some Classic Elias Manipulation) that it's for the good of the world, and any harm caused and the discomfort it causes you is a sacrifice that needs to be made. Jon makes sense, to me. In my mind he doesn't need to be a monster in some ambiguously defined sense to explain his shift in attitude. The explanation is there in full: a man in a rowboat on a turbulent ocean of fear, now given a motor.

(The fact that he was so consistently called a monster by Basira, one of his few points of contact still remaining in Peter Lukas's Lonely-flavoured Institute, also certainly didn't help his leaning into it at all, but that's probably an essay for another day. Confirmation bias is a hell of a thing, and I'm sure being made to think he had no other options made it all the more easy to tell himself the same.)

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.

[eddiediazenjoyer]

just thought of a world where eddies canon queer arc is just him realizing he’s gay and then finding joy or whatever . and that’s it. started snoring just thinking about it

[altarplay]

i guess it's good to have confirmation that our best is everyone's elses mediocre. lack of effort. doesn't care enough. etc.

[sunderwight]

Shen Qingqiu gets hit by a rare wife plot.

And it actually is a rare one because Airplane didn't even write this one down! He toyed with the idea before ultimately dismissing it as being too controversial for the tastes of his readers, and adapting only a few of the same elements for a subsequent chapter of PIDW.

But apparently the System can pull inspiration even from the author's thoughts, especially when there's nothing to contradict the concept and even a few threads of it still to be found in the original, and somehow Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of this previously-unwritten plot bunny.

The core concept was a cuck scenario, of all things. One of the Luo Binghe's wives gets afflicted by a poison that can only be cured by dual cultivation, but specifically can't be cured by by dual cultivation with anyone who has mastery over demonic qi. Something something conflicting energies, something bullshit something. Peerless Cucumber would have ripped the chapter to shreds if it had actually made it to publication, not just for the insult of implying that Luo Binghe should let one of his wives sleep with someone else, but also because why would Luo Binghe -- able to use both kinds of cultivation -- somehow not be able to keep his demonic energies from influencing the situation just in this one case?

Well it turns out that in his specific case it's because sex gets him too worked up to keep things strictly separate, and the degree of control required to treat the affliction whilst dual cultivating is extensive enough that even a little slip-up would be fatal.

Of course, in the actual chapter of PIDW, this same plot device was altered and used to create a harem orgy where Luo Binghe oversaw several of his wives "treating" one another's "afflictions", but Shen Qingqiu just had to go and get a fatal of dose of the more severe version (he didn't realize the risk, because again, this version didn't even make it into the novel).

Anyway, of course this ends up with Shen Qingqiu trying to figure out another way to cheat death, while Luo Binghe goes through the five stages of grief before accepting that he's just going to have to let someone else fuck his husband. This leads to an argument because of course Shen Qingqiu's not going to cheat on Luo Binghe, and he's especially not going to force one of his martial siblings to sleep with him, come on now, and Luo Binghe trying not to cry tears of blood while bringing himself to explain that a fair few of Shen Qingqiu's sect siblings would be happy volunteers for this task.

Shen Qingqiu's just like, well of course you think that, for some bizarre reason you think everyone wants to sleep with me. Bias is what it is. Really it's flattering Binghe but obviously every other person we know is straight, that's just statistics, and everyone in the entire cultivation world knows that Qi Qingqi would sooner chew glass than have sex with a man!

Luo Binghe, weeping now: Shizun please. This is serious. I need you speak words that make sense in the order you're saying them.

They argue, they reach an impasse, the clock is ticking. So Luo Binghe reluctantly turns to the most reliable source of information (outside of himself) on Manipulating Shen Qingqiu to Do Things That Are in His Own Best Interests -- Shang Qinghua.

At first Shang Qinghua is like, well I'm flattered Junshang but I don't think I could shoulder the baggage of fucking Cucumber-bro for you. But then Luo Binghe is like no I need someone who is way hotter and more capable than you, if Shizun is going to fuck someone else at my behest they're going to be TOP TIER so that when I fuck him better afterwards he's really impressed with me. Liu Qingge, obviously.

Not Yue Qingyuan, Shang Qinghua asks? (He'd take the insult a little more personally but honestly he's just relieved that he's not being asked to navigate this social minefield.)

No, Luo Binghe says. He's not 100% sure he could beat Yue Qingyuan in a fight even to this day, which in his mind also translates to not being 100% sure he could do sex better than him either, so Yue Qingyuan is an emergency last resort. He's way more likely to cry on Shizun too and Shen Qingqiu is into that shit, it's too risky.

Alright, says Shang Qinghua, and he thinks about it, and then he comes up with the beautifully simple solution:

Luo Binghe has to fuck Liu Qingge first.

Because of course the crux of the issue is that even with permission, Shen Qingqiu doesn't want to cheat on Luo Binghe. But in the twisted annals of his mind, Luo Binghe himself is still entitled to a harem, even if Luo Binghe is also happily monogamous in this life. So if he shacks up with Liu Qingge first then Liu Qingge essentially joins Luo Binghe's harem, at which point if Shen Qingqiu sleeps with him it's not an affair, it's the gay version of those fanservice-y 3P scenes that the wives in PIDW did. Shang Qinghua translates the concept as best as he can to Luo Binghe, who -- though slightly dubious -- must accept that so far Shang Qinghua's wisdom hasn't steered him wrong with regards to his shizun's eccentricities.

Luo Binghe's mission: seduce Liu Qingge, or at least convince him to have sex, or possibly to lie and (convincingly!) tell Shen Qingqiu that they had sex. That last one is the longest shot so he's probably going to have to just fuck him (Luo Binghe still underestimates how willing his husband is to believe that just about anyone would have sex with him).

Shang Qinghua's mission: convince Shen Qingqiu that he owes his husband steamy threeway gay sex or something so that this plan he pulled out of his ass doesn't backfire and get him killed.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

De-aged Danny shenanigans with an adult Damian taking after his father.

Danny, about 6: *drigging through the trash*

Damian, 26: Hello? Are you alright?

Danny, whips around to look at him with glowing green eyes: hissssss

Damian, blinks: Oh, dear....Are you hungry?

Danny, suspicious:... yeth

Damian, nods: If you come with me, we can either go to a batburger down the street or my apartment a block over. I have a washer and dryer I can run your clothes through while you bathe.

Danny: Are you trying to kidnap me?

Damian: If I was, I'd be a fool to say so

Danny: mm twue...why else would you want to help me though?

Damian: one. It would be irresponsible of me to level a toddler alone, in an alley, in Gotham.

Danny, pouting: I'm not a toddler

Damian: Two. I will never hear the end of it from my siblings whether or not I help you, but it'd be more teasing than lecturing if I do help you.

Danny: Why would they do dat?

Damian: If you don't have any place to go, I might just tell you. But only if I can make sure you don't tell the wrong person.

Danny: I'm good wif secrets!

Damian, amused: We shall see. And now third and final reason. Are you aware your eyes are glowing green?

Danny, gasps and slams his eyes shut: You're not supposed to see!

Damian, softly: It's okay. I understand what that means. One of my elder brothers' eyes glow the same way. It must have been very scary for you to die

Danny, sniffling: It was... does his eyes weally glow green?

Damian: They do. His usually glow when he gets angry, is it the same with you?

Danny, now blinking blue glowing eyes at Damian: mmm? No? Green is too much bad emotion

Damian: Bad emotion?

Danny: Mad, um, strezz? No, the bigger one!

Damian: Panic or anxiety?

Danny, points at him with a bounce: Yeah!!

Damian, amused and concerned: I see

Danny: mmm let's see, um, and scared?

Damian: Interesting. Jason's eyes are usually an indicator of angry, but I know he likes to cover his fear and concern with that same anger. I shall look into it. On that note. And what does glowing blue mean?

Danny, blinks: Blue?

Damian: Yes. Did you know your eyes are glowing blue now?

Danny, shocked: No! They didn't do that before!... At least I don't think they did?

Damian: Well, they're a very pretty shade of blue.

Danny: Maybe... Maybe that's how my parents noticed...

Damian, trying not to frown: What did your parents notice?

Danny, turning his big teary eyes on Damian: That I'm not fully human anymore. They didn't notice. They never noticed!

Damian, slowly reaching out to the kid to see if he'd accept a hug: Sounds like your parents didn't deserve you.

Danny, giving into his childish instincts and flinging himself into Damian's arms to sob his little heart out: They didn't even know I died! It's not fair! I'm not weally human and it's their fault! I hate their stupid po-po- THING! It shocked me and it hurt and now I'm dead and it's their fault!

Damian: *gently rocking Danny til he tires himself out*

Danny, sniffling: It's not fair...

Damian: Something I've found is, it never is. Every stray my father has housed has had an unbearably harsh life, and I, being his blood son, was no different. My mother and her father raised me for the first ten years of my life, and I've come to understand that my childhood was not a good one. It took me a long time and a lot of patience from my eldest brother to come to realize what I was missing.

Danny: Like, Jazzy?

Damian: mm? Who's Jazzy?

Danny: My big sister. She's a big know it all, but she tries...

Damian: Well, that's-

Danny, jolts in Damian's hold: Tried! *GASP* Jazzy doesn't know mom and dad didn't kill me!! *pause* um, kill me again?

Damian: Well, we'll have to tell her, won't we? You wouldn't happen to know her full name? I can ask my family to contact her while we get you cleaned up

Danny: Yeah! Her name is Jasmine Fenton! She goes to a big big school here! That's why I came here! I just... I got lost..

Damian: That won't do

Damian, pulls out his phone and calls Barbara while starting to walk to his apartment: Gordon. I have a request.

Barbara: Yeah? Whatcha got, baby bat?

Damian: Can you look up a Jasmine Fenton? I have something she will probably want back.

Barbara: Holy shit! Is that a child??

Damian, sighs: Yes, it's her little brother. He ran away from a bad situation with his parents and got lost trying to find his elder sister.

Barbara: Alright. I'll check out her entire life to make sure she's safe to- wait. Damian, is that kid's name Danny?

Damian, realizing he never asked: One moment.

Damian, looks down at a sleepy, but curious Danny: Is your name Danny?

Danny, beams: Yeah!!

Barbara: Caught that, but, uh, Damian, Danny is supposed to be 20, not...4? 5? Not a tiny child

Damian: umm... Danny did you used to be older?

Danny, shrinks into himself and his eyes turn green: Ye-yeah... I don't know why I'm little... mommy did something and it Huuurt and hurt til suddenly I was free and I ran and hid in a bus

Damian, soothingly petting his back: Okay, it's okay, we'll figure it out.

Barbara: Take care of him for the night, we'll contact his sister tomorrow at a reasonable time. I'm not finding anything too concerning on her yet so she's probably safe

Damian: Copy that. Goodnight, Gordon.

Barbara, teasing: Goodnight, mini-Bruce!

Damian, flushes, but doesn't deny it before hanging up and glancing towards Danny: That was Barbara Gordon. A family friend. She'll help us find your sister, but you'll be staying with me for tonight.

Danny, sleepy: Okay..

Damian, slipping into his apartment lobby and going straight up the stairs, ignoring the gaping attendants: Don't fall asleep just yet. You will be fed and bathed first

Danny, huffs, but straightens up: What food?

Damian: That depends, I only really have vegetarian food so I suppose we'll have to find something you'll eat

Danny: Sam is vegetarian! I eat vegetarian sometimes with her!

Damian: hm? Very good, then it should be easier for me to feed you

Damian and Danny have a wonderful time. Danny is fed, watered, and cleaned up before being set up with a quiet sound machine to sleep. Damian has a crisis over wanting to keep Danny and suddenly understands his father's adoption habit. He sets alarms to check on Danny throughout the night, but it's otherwise uneventful.

[meowse]

That AMA marks the end of Dragon Age.

In my opinion.

I'll start by saying that I have played all 3 of the previous games repeatedly, I've loved the series for 15 years, more than half my life. These games inspired me to become a writer and they've shaped a lot of my tastes and interests in shows and writing -- to say they were formative is kind of an understatement. Don't want to go on and on about how much I loved them, that's not the point here.

I didn't care for Veilguard for pretty much all of the reasons people have already discussed at length on Reddit and Tumblr. The writing is comprehensively bad, the romances are easily the worst Bioware has written by pure virtue of having the most cookie-cutter pacing and shallow characterization I've seen across their games, the lore has been shafted in every direction, and the nuanced storytelling and roleplay I came to expect from the series has been taken out back and shot in the head.

All, apparently, in the name of a "clean slate". It seems to me that, rather than familiarizing himself with the existing lore of the game he took the creative reins on, Epler clearly had a vision for Dragon Age (or perhaps a different IP entirely) in his head that he decided to transplant into the game (and possibly Trick? But they've said so little beyond defending their work that I can hardly theorize what direction they were coming from). That being a sanitized, wildly self-contradicting, morally absolute shitshow focused on distancing itself from the previous games as much as possible. Now, I know it's unrealistic to blame one person entirely, and I don't blame him entirely. Corinne was there. Trick was there.

But if it wasn't already evident from the numerous interviews Epler's given on the game as well as his participation in the Q&A's (while the actual lead writer of the game has been completely absent in not just the marketing, but in most fan-related interaction pre and post-launch outside of BSKY), this AMA seems to have confirmed, more than anything else, that Epler doesn't understand the game nor does he understand its audience. Neither does Corinne Busche, who despite being Game Director for only the last two years of development, has been answering lore questions a) like she has any fucking clue and b) like she thinks Dragon Age is a cozy-gamer IP, meant to appeal to people that want uplifting stories with uncontroversial characters, morally upright heroes, and unquestionably evil villains.

So as of today's AMA, I think I've finally had enough. We're just outright retconning the lore in Reddit AMA's now, I guess. Among other things. I'll provide a few examples, just so we're all on the same page.

This was part of Epler's response to why Solas didn't have his cult following in the game (insert "We Kind of Forgot" meme here):

Solas' experience leading the rebellion against the Evanuris turned him against the idea of being a leader. You see it in the memories - the entire experience of being in charge ate at him and, ultimately, convinced him he needed to do this on his own. And his own motivations were very different from the motivations of those who wanted to follow him - he had no real regard for their lives or their goals. So at some point between Trespasser and DATV, he severed that connection with his 'followers' and went back to being a lone wolf.

The fact that this (the not caring bit) directly contradicts the writing in the actual game is absolutely INSANE to me, moreso than the lack of Solas's spy network (which he apparently carried with him for 10 years only to conveniently drop right before the ritual? Because he clearly had them research Rook?). But in regards to the not caring -- here's a line from Solas's memory of killing Mythal in Veilguard, which. I'll get to Mythal in a minute:

Why should I not tear down the Veil, and bring back immortality to all the elven people? They deserve it!

Which is it? Does Solas care about the people he's saving (the venn diagram of people he's saving vs. the people following him is surely a circle, i.e. elves) or not? Does he even care about the spirits trapped behind the Veil anymore or is it just convenient to abandon them and have him only care about elves, now? What happened to saving The People? What happened to him not identifying as an elf in his conversations with a Dalish Inquisitor? And what the absolute fuck happened to him wanting to bring back the magical marvels (that the ancient elves did in fact achieve) that were greater than anything we see in Thedas today? Here's what Epler has to say about elven magic, now:

I do agree that the elves have had their place in the sun at this point. [...] The thing about the Evanuris is that, ultimately, they were able to take a very specific type of magic and shape it into doing what they wanted. But even their understanding of magic was only skin deep [...] Even the magic that Tevinter wields, the magic of the Southern mages, is different from what the Evanuris used. The magic of the Evanuris is powerful but it's sterile, and it's constrained. So while the Evanuris have made magic work in a way that's more predictable and understandable, it's not the only kind of magic out there, and even then, I'd say they understood it at a very surface level. People were confidently describing how the natural world worked back in the 16th century. Very few of them were right.

First of all, Tevinter has been stated in previous games to have clumsily adapted ancient elven magic for their own, but they did adapt it. To the point where even Solas is surprised that Corypheus achieved effective immortality -- by binding himself to a dragon the same way the Evanuris did. So, cool, more contradicting the lore here. "They understood it at a very surface level" you mean when all of the magic of the Fade wasn't locked behind the Veil? You mean when magic flowed freely through the world? What do you mean, Surface Fucking Level? The entire point of the Dalish elf culture is what they lost; this wasn't the ancient elves thinking the sun revolved around the earth, the Veil was their fucking Library of Alexandria burning. Oh my god. I still cannot believe he said this.

And how have the elves had their day in the sun? I'm sorry, was Arlathan not given to... the Veil Jumpers? Instead of the Dalish? What happened to all the Dalish clans in the south, who had no infrastructure when the world was apparently blighted to hell? I guess they're just gone now! They've had their day! The story of the Dalish and the Evanuris is over (also confirmed in this AMA), and it apparently ends with the final snuff of the candle that is their culture. Congratulations, Chantry, you've won! Only took two genocides and a double blight, but we're done with the Dalish now! We get your mind-numbingly superficial factions instead!

What happened to Mythal, by the way? What happened to "She was betrayed as I was betrayed, as the world was betrayed! Mythal clawed and crawled her way through the ages to me, and I will see her avenged!" What happened to the reckoning that will shake the very heavens? John's answer to this:

People grow and change over time. Mythal's essence - and in particular, the fragment of her spirit that Morrigan carries, that she got from Flemeth - is not the same Mythal who he knew millennia ago. Centuries of living in this world and being around the kinds of people Flemeth found herself around - the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke, the Inquisitor - changed her views, and made her realize her own culpability in turning Solas into the kind of person he is now.

Oh, right, okay. So she was pissed for like a thousand years, got her big speech about the impending "reckoning" out 10 years ago, and then she just chilled out because the last 3 heroes were neat people. What a fucking joke. And yes, here is the confirmation that the Evanuris story is over --

The story of the Evanuris is done - the gods are dead (or imprisoned) and Thedas is in a state of flux and uncertainty. I imagine that whatever happens next is going to be a surprise to everyone, including the people of Thedas."

So I guess Mythal's reckoning is never coming. One of the most fascinating characters in the series, shrouded in mystery for those first 3 games, PROMISING US a blaze of glory, only to fizzle out in this one. Again, and I can't emphasize this enough, for Epler's clean fucking slate. And we've not just tied up her story, but also the Veil and the Blight:

When Solas bound himself (or, depending on your ending, was forcibly bound) to the Veil, it severed the connection that the Blight had to the waking world. The reality is that the Veil has been leaking ever since the Magisters first entered the Black City, and the dreams of the Titans gave it its terrible and awesome power. Now that the Veil is fully repaired, the Blight lacks that motive force, and being so close to the epicenter of that change has stripped the Blight in Minrathous of its vitality. It's calcified now - dead - and Bellara/Neve no longer suffer its effects. If they'd been anywhere else, further from that epicenter, it would've likely been different and they still would be looking for a cure.

So the Veil is permanently fixed now because our half-dead Dread Wolf bound himself to it (a decision I still don't understand) and that somehow fixed every single hole ever poked in it. Fully repaired. No more holes, no more "Veil is thin here" because tons of people died in the same spot, nope, we're washing our hands and leaving it (and the spirits) behind us because we've wrapped up both the series-long Veil storyline and the blight storyline in a big red bow.

And Epler tells us Solas not only bound himself to the Veil but fixed it entirely in one fell swoop, no ritual required, just a little slice to the hand. Again, all in the name of a clean slate, so any future installments or media centered around Thedas can turn away from this story.

Then there's this. What we can expect from future installments, I freaking guess. The aforementioned roleplay getting taken out back and shot:

Q: "What lead you to the decision to step away from active conversations with the companions as in previous Bioware games, where you can initiate them at any moment and ask exhaustive questions?"

John: "For us, because of tech limitations, it became a choice between exhaustive investigate conversations, or letting the companions move more freely around the Lighthouse. With the kind of experience we were going for, one where seeing the team grow around you is paramount, we felt that seeing them interact in common spaces (and in each other's rooms) made more sense."

Literally confirmed that they chose companions moving freely about the cabin over ... interacting with them outside the handful of cutscenes we got. Who in their right mind would think this was a good call in a Dragon Age game? A series that quite literally prides itself on complex character interactions and storytelling? So they could... sit in different places? Are you kidding me?

They don't see an issue with the game's reception. They don't have any interest in addressing or responding to criticism. They're either happy with their choices or EA's got a gun pointed at their heads, I'm honestly not sure anymore. I used to believe the latter was true, but looking at both Epler's and Busche's responses today, I'm inclined to believe the former.

So I think that's it for the series. Not that I thought it was going to get another game after this, but on the absolute off chance it did, what would be the point? The best stories were ruined. Anything left they have to tell is going to read a lot like Veilguard -- superficial, morally absolute, flagrantly disrespectful to the lore, and delivered in a very poorly written package.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Eyes Only For You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff

“Hey, baby” You say smiling walking into the kitchen greeting your boyfriend who you missed so much after a whole day filled with meetings.

Lando was free for another week before returning to the races, and you really had a lot of work to do the whole week. You had a lot of meetings and events to attend so you’ve been out of the house and even out of the town most of the time.

You hated it when Lando was free and you had a lot of work to do and couldn't take full advantage of his rare free time. And so when such days happen, you always rush home at the end of the day, eager to see him and cuddle him and just rest in his arms.

That's how you thought it would be this evening too, but as soon as you entered the room and saw that Lando didn't even turn to you when you greeted him, you immediately felt that something was up.

“Hi” He says apathetically looking for something in the fridge and not paying attention to the fact that you finally came home after being away all day.

He was angry. You read it right away. You could tell by his tone, but you decided to ignore it at first.

You walked up to him from the other side of the kitchen island and hugged him from behind while he was still standing in front of the fridge looking into it.

“Where is Mila?” You ask.

Oh, and you were also babysitting Mila for the night. His brother and sister in law and Mila were in town so you offered to watch her tonight so they could have some time to themselves and go on a date.

“She fell asleep in the living room a little while ago.” He said not engaging in further conversation.

“I missed you today” You say leaving a small kiss against his bare back.

“Yeah? How was your day?” He asks taking the salad dressing from the fridge and walking up to the kitchen island where his chicken salad was.

“It was..hectic.” You say looking at him. “Been waiting to come home to you.” You say softly trying to get anything out of him, but failing when he continues to be silent and ignore you focusing on making his salad.

“Lan? Is everything okay?” You finally ask.

“Well,” He sighs and somewhat aggressively throws the soiled fork into the kitchen sink making you wince slightly. “It was up until two hours ago when some pictures of you from the Boss Show in Milan emerged.”

“What pictures?” You ask confused, immediately going over the events of that day in Milan in your head.

He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, unlocks it and throws it in front of you on the surface of the kitchen island. “Care to explain?”

You stare at the picture on his cell phone of you and Michele Morrone and you immediately remember the situation you had with him that day that you were not even aware that someone had taken a picture of it and published it on the Internet.

In the picture, you were leaving the fashion show and he was grabbing your elbow. You met him for the first time that day and you talked about nothing more than the looks from the show, but it was quite obvious to you that he was indirectly hitting on you here and there. You grabbed his attention and he didn't spare you a few compliments, but at no point did you give him reason to think you were interested in him.

When you were leaving the fashion show, you didn't even know that he came out after you. He grabbed your elbow before you walked over to the waiting car and asked if he could have your number to which you replied that you have a boyfriend and that you’re in a happy relationship.

“Oh my God..” You sigh before explaining what exactly happened in the picture.

“Did you give him your number?” Lando asks even though you had said you didn’t.

“Of course I didn’t, Lando?” You say a bit offended that he even had to ask such a thing.

“Why didn't you tell me right away instead of me having to look at the pictures of my girlfriend with that fucking- porn actor?”

“I don’t ever tell you when things like that happen because I don’t care about that stuff and because I’m not interested in anyone but you!”

“What the fuck? What do you mean ‘when things like that happen’? Do guys hit on you a lot?”

“Lando..please” You were already getting exhausted from this kind of conversation. You considered it so unimportant that you almost forgot it happened, but you could understand why Lando was upset about it.

“No, tell me, y/n!”

“Yes, guys do hit on me, but I never ever respond to any of that in any kind of way whatsoever!”

“Oh, that’s really nice. Very comforting.” He says sarcastically.

“What? Am I so unattractive that it comes as such a surprise to you?”

“No, fuck..of course not. I just-“ He sighs running his hands through his hair. “I just thought everyone knew you were mine..”

“Lando, as long as I know that I’m yours, it doesn’t matter what other guys think or try to do. And I can’t believe that you would even think that I was doing something behind your back. I can’t believe you don’t trust me, Lando?” It hurt you because you never gave him a reason to doubt you. Your relationship was pure and full of love for each other. Topics like this have never even been in the conversation.

He deeply sighs again and steps closer to you cupping your face making you look up at him. “It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s others. I don’t want someone to steal you from me. I’m sorry”

“That could never happen.” You say looking up at him.

He pulls your face closer to his wanting to kiss you, but you move your head to the left avoiding the kiss.

“I’m going to change. I’m tired.” You move away from him and go to your shared bedroom.

Your mood was no longer up to par and you weren't as happy and excited as you were half an hour ago and you blamed Lando for that. On the one hand, you understood him, but on the other hand, you couldn't believe that he doubted you even for a slight moment.

It especially hurt you because you knew that girls are hitting on him every chance they get and that they obsess over him all the time not caring in the slightest that he has a girlfriend and yet you never showed him it bothered you because you know he only has eyes for you.

You took a quick shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Although you were still sad about the things that went down with Lando, you wanted to see Mila and hang out with her in case she woke up because it was only 7 p.m. so you headed to the living room shortly after taking the shower.

You knew she was awake when you approached the living room and heard Lando and her chatting about the Minions that Lando had turned on on the TV. It was more of Lando's favorite cartoon than Mila’s honestly. You walked over closer and saw Lando

Lando was lying on the couch and Mila was lying next to him with her head resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her. The sight melted your heart. You loved their relationship. You loved seeing him spend time with her and bond and you loved the way she loved him.

“Auntie!!” Mila exclaimed when she saw you.

“Hey, cutie” You smiled at her sitting on the couch next to Lando and giving her a hug. “Are you guys watching the Minions?”

“Yess!!” She said excitedly.

“Wanna join us?” Lando asked, his eyes pleading for you to say yes.

You nodded your head bringing a huge smile to Lando's face. He opened his free arm for you so you can cuddle up to him. When you laid your head against his chest as well as Mila, he tightly wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head quietly whispering “I’m sorry”

You just looked up at him and kissed his chin without saying a word.

Halfway through the movie, Mila slowly began to fall asleep again. Lando was gently rubbing her back the whole time and when he would stop for a moment she would startle and say "Lala, more" so Lando had to continue until she fell asleep and you just found his gesture so adorable.

“I can't wait to see you like this with our own baby.” You said softly.

“What? Are you-?”

“I’m not pregnant, Lan” You chuckled. “I’m just saying, one day I hope.”

“You want babies with me?” He asked his fingers playing with your hair and looking into your eyes as you lifted your gaze up.

“Of course I do. I think about it often.” You admit that every now and then you find yourself daydreaming about your perfect little family and it makes you so excited about the future.

“Yeah? I do too, baby. I dream of holding you both just like this, waking up next to you, taking care of you.” He says pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Should we make it a reality soon?”

“I think we should, Lan”