#but having a plan doesn't get rid of the feeling that i'm drowning

[eternallyanxiousandstressed]

another vent, don't mind me. just need to get things out

[hayakawalove]

Cheater Cheater Pumpkin Eater

Summary: You're happy with your husband, you swear. Except you actually aren't. You're so unhappy in fact, that you find yourself in a cheap bar late one night. Two men find you, and it leads to a night of fun.

A/N: Yeah. It goes without saying that I DON'T CONDONE CHEATING! I don't know why I wrote this. I actually used to really hate cheating fics, so much so that I would filter the tag out. They used to trigger me super bad. I'm not sure why I wrote this. Maybe as a way of doing exposure therapy, maybe just to practice writing things I normally don't write. Whatever the case is, here you go. I hope y'all enjoy! As always, I appreciate your guys comments so much, seriously!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Cheating (You Cheat on Your Husband), Hand Jobs, Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Finger Sucking, Spit Kink, Protected Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Alcohol, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Praise Kink, Cum Swallowing, Hook-Up, No Strings Attached, Reader Feels Bad (Doesn't Last Long), Hair-pulling, Female Reader, AFAB Reader

W/C: 6,154

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

You’re happy. 

You really are. 

Those are the words you find yourself repeating like a mantra, a self assuring prayer on a loop in your mind. 

You have a great life. 

A wonderful job, a nice house, the perfect husband. 

People live their entire lives searching for what you’ve been so graciously dealt. 

So why did it feel like you were lying to yourself when you repeated that mantra? 

The words felt uneasy in your mind at first, the weight of them feeling unknown on your tongue. You’d never really thought about it before. Were you happy? The more you told yourself that you were, the more the saying turned your stomach sour. 

You were happy. You were happy. You were happy. 

You weren’t happy. 

At first, it began like a tingle in the back of your throat. Not disruptive, but most certainly there, no matter how hard you tried to get rid of it. It was the most obvious when you felt like you should be grateful for something.

Before going to bed at night, finishing a big project at work, when your husband kissed your cheek. 

The doubt simmers in your gut, barely a blip on your radar.

It was hardly noticeable, until it wasn’t. 

The thought became a raging forest fire, drowning out all your other senses. Every day was the same. It was so boring. Nothing lit a spark in you. 

You weren’t sure how to even remedy it. Not only that, but you would listen to your friends talk about their lives, and how it was monotonous for them as well. Maybe life just had to be like this. 

There’s a pit in your stomach as you walk to your car. You really didn’t want to go home tonight. Not when you knew your loving husband would be waiting for you; not when you knew you had all the reasons in the world to be happy, but you just weren’t. 

“Hey, sexy lady!” A man’s voice rings out around you. 

When you flick your head around you see a man who’s much older than you sizing you up. Your knee jerk reaction is to be disgusted, but you aren’t, not fully at least. 

You’re flattered. 

When was the last time someone paid you a compliment like that? Your husband told you you were beautiful all the time, but it felt rehearsed, like the words had lost their meaning. Sure, a stranger calling you sexy was a bit half assed, but at least it was real.

“Thank you! But I’m married-“ you reply, even though the man is long gone by now. 

You straighten your shoulders and open your car door, accepting the fluke. 

~~~

You’re craving the attention again. 

You feel like an addict craving their next hit. You didn’t want anything else, other than a bit of attention from a stranger. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? 

Over the next couple of days you craft a plan. You were going to get dressed up and go to a bar, nothing major. You just wanted to put yourself in a situation where you could receive attention, maybe get a couple of compliments. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Your husband texted you to inform you that he would be at the office late tonight. You try to ignore the pang of guilt that shoots through you when you tell him that it’s okay, you wouldn’t be doing much anyway. 

Liar.

The dress you’re wearing feels a bit too tight, fitting to your form like another layer of skin. You hadn’t worn it in years. There never was any need to. You and your husband didn't go on dates much anymore, instead choosing to settle down for movie nights or dinner. 

Your makeup is more extreme than usual. It highlights all your favorite features, and the colors are a bit dramatic. Even though it felt different, you had to admit that you looked good. 

You fiddle with your ring, watching the way it catches the light. Reluctantly, you pull it off and put it in your purse. You feel naked not wearing it. Hopefully, more people would compliment you if you didn’t have it on.

You sling your purse over your shoulder and turn your phone off, you wouldn’t be needing it anyway, sliding your high heels on. 

The bar you decide on is on the furthest edge of town, in a much seedier neighborhood. On any chosen day you wouldn’t be caught dead on this side of town, and neither would any of your loved ones. Which is precisely why you chose to be there in the first place. 

Nobody would recognize you. Not that it would be a problem if they did, you remind yourself. You weren’t doing anything wrong. 

The bar is loud as you enter, eager voices discussing a variety of topics over cheap alcohol. The smell of liquor is strong, the astringent scent nearly burning the inside of your nostrils. 

You slide over to the counter and take a seat on one of the rickety stools. It’d be a miracle if it doesn’t break under your weight, it looks like it’s two seconds from collapsing on its own. 

You order a mixed drink and smile as the bartender passes it to you, your heart fluttering at the way he grins back. 

Validation springs throughout your body. It feels like you’re being rejuvenated, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

See? What you were doing wasn’t so bad. 

“What's a fine young thing like yourself doing over here?” 

When you turn around to catch a glimpse of the man shamelessly hitting on you, you feel your stomach turn. You had never seen someone so attractive before. 

A head full of soft white hair, messy in an almost endearing way. You can’t catch a glimpse of his eyes due to the sunglasses that rest on his nose. On anyone else it would come off as douchey, it was dark out and you were inside a bar, but for him it seemed oddly fitting. 

There’s a cocky grin on his face as he leans against the counter where you sit. He’s close enough that you can smell the soap he used to scrub himself with. An intoxicating scent, cedarwood and bergamot.

“Enjoying some alone time.” You reply, deciding on playing hard to get. 

It would be nice to see him continue to try, even if you didn’t make it easy. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt. I just had to tell you how gorgeous you were.” 

He didn’t sound sorry, didn’t look it either.

“I know.” You take a small sip of you drink, staring up at him as you do so. 

You would never be so forward in your day to day life. You much preferred to be humble. Humble was cute, humble was safe. 

You were tired of being safe. 

The strangers lips spread even further and you catch a glimpse of him running his tongue along his teeth. You can’t see, but you feel like he’s staring down at you, gaze assessing your features. You hope he likes what he sees. 

“Sir, can I get another one of these for her?” He flags down the bartender and motions to your drink. 

“I didn’t tell you I wanted another one.” You reply, stirring the drink you’re currently nursing. 

The man beside you raises a brow, before sliding out a wad of cash. He hands it to the bartender without looking away from you, confidence leaking from his pores. 

“You shouldn’t have to. A gentleman should be able to notice.”

You feel a heavy weight drop on top of you. He was right. True gentlemen should take note of the small things, right? 

Your husband hardly ever did. 

The crack inside your heart begins to deepen; you know there’s not going to be a way back from this. Do you mind that you won’t be able to recover? 

No. 

You don’t. 

You grin at him and toss back the rest of your drink before taking the new one from him. It’s cold against your hand, a sickly sweet scent wafting up from the cup. 

“Who’s your little friend?” A second voice enters.

You flick your eyes from the man beside you to see who’s talking. Long black locks and chestnut eyes. 

“Suguru. This is…” The first man talks.

You state your name, nerves beginning to take hold in your chest. When it was just one of them it was fine, but two of them? 

“I’m Satoru Gojo, and this is Suguru Geto.” The original man says. “Pleased to meet you.” He finishes, dipping his face down to look at you above his glasses. 

Electric cerulean greets you, nearly taking your breath away. 

He smirks and pushes his glasses back up before tossing a look over his shoulder towards his friend.

Suguru circles around you, and you can’t help but let your eyes follow his movements. It feels like he’s sizing you up, a dark gleam in his gaze as he settles in the spot beside you.

It feels a bit like the walls are caving in on you, except the metaphorical walls are in the form of two bulky men. 

You wanted attention, that much was true, but you weren’t sure you were ready for this amount. 

“What brings you to this dive bar?” The one called Suguru questions. 

You take a sip of your drink as you ponder a response. What should you tell them? You were here with friends? The truth? 

“Needed to get out of the house.” You decide on. 

Well, it wasn’t completely wrong. 

“So you decided to come to this shit hole?” Satoru says. 

“You decided to come here too, didn’t you?” You reply back.

Satoru looks away, his bottom lip pouting out. It was a shit hole. The two men looked oddly out of place. Their clothes looked to be worth more than half your rent, and there was an effortless elegance flowing from them. You were sure that they belonged anywhere else. 

“We were just passing through town, and this was the first place we found.” Suguru responds for Satoru. 

You wonder how true that statement is. 

Could it be that the both of them are also running away from something in their personal lives? 

You could only hope. 

Maybe it would make you feel less guilty. 

Suguru’s nursing a whiskey now, lips shining in the low light from the tantalizing liquid. It’s a bit hypnotizing, watching the way his lips pucker as he takes measured sips. 

You feel like nothing can break you from the trance you’re in, nothing that is, until something brushes your thighs. It’s Satoru’s fingers, skimming your skin under the guise of tugging your dress down. 

“I like your dress,” Satoru murmurs, his knuckles causing goosebumps to erupt along your thighs. 

You watch as he slowly drags his fingers back, letting your eyes trail up until you reach his face, only to see that he’s already staring at you. 

“Yeah?” You ask, breathless.

Satoru hums and flicks his gaze back down to your legs. There’s lead in your stomach as you watch his pupils flicker. You can only guess what’s on his mind. 

“Say, do you have any plans for the night?” Suguru questions, settling his arm around the back of your chair. 

His thumb brushes against your shoulder, making your breath stagger. The ambiance is more than heavy, a thick understanding settling over the three of you. 

“No, I don't.” You take one last sip of your drink before looking at the boys once more. 

“Want to go have some fun, then?” Satoru asks, an evil glint in his eyes. 

You begin to understand how Eve could not resist the temptation.

“Please,” you all but plead.

You reach a hand out and Satoru laces his fingers in yours, tugging you along until you’re forced to navigate through the crowds in the bar. There’s a heat behind you, and you register it as Suguru’s presence shortly following after you. 

There’s something bubbling up in your stomach, anticipation you think, as you watch the back of Satoru’s head. 

He’s so tall. 

You briefly wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through his hair. Would it be soft? Would he like the way it feels? 

Satoru pushes the bar door open, a gust of wind whipping your face. The sensation almost shocks you to your senses, but Satoru doesn’t allow it. 

He slows down and stops beside you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You’re being tugged beside him, smooshed against his lean frame as he walks you to their car. 

“We’re gonna have so much fun,” he comments, whispering into the crown of your head. 

Your stomach flips. You think he may be right. 

Suguru walks ahead and spins keys around his fingers before unlocking the car. You’re unable to recognize the brand, only able to see that it’s expensive. 

Satoru opens the passenger door and you’re greeted with fine black leather. It dawns on you that someone’s going to have to sit in the back. 

How was this going to work? 

Were you supposed to sit in the back? 

Wouldn’t that be weird? 

When you come to, you see that Satoru’s already sitting in the front seat, his hand holding yours as he looks up at you with an expectant gaze. 

“Come on.” He murmurs. 

He pulls you closer, spreading his legs to make room for you. He wants you to sit on his lap? 

You look around, noticing how empty the parking lot is. You were already making bad choices, so you figure you may as well go all in. 

You inch in the car, settling on top of his lap. His thighs are warm beneath you, your exposed legs shifting back and forth. He shuts the door, settling his hands on your body while Suguru starts the car. You never once stop to think about how this may be considered dangerous, all you can think about is how you want more of it. 

“Ready, princess?” Suguru’s voice is like velvet as it comes out. 

As ready as you’ll ever be. 

“Yes.” You fake confidence, shining a grin that feels entirely too exaggerated. 

Suguru chuckles and reverses the car, the action fluid. Satoru’s still holding onto your thighs, the proximity to him causing your heart to race. You don’t know who to focus on. Even their hands have you in a trance. Suguru’s fingers grip the steering wheel, knuckles making your mouth water, while Satoru holds your legs, his palms suspiciously moving further up.

You can feel the outline of something beneath you, and you think you know what it is, but you want to be sure. 

You shimmy your ass a bit, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Satoru. There’s a dangerous grin on his face as he looks at you over his glasses. 

“Careful there, baby.” He warns. 

Your mouth immediately dries, desperation crawling up the back of your throat. The outline below you is much thicker than it was several minutes ago. He was hard. 

The engine stops, and your stomach turns over. You’re stopped at a hotel. It’s on the nicer side of town, luckily the part of the city none of your friends ventured to. The building in front of you is at least twenty stories high, the air of wealth floating over to you. 

Just what did these guys do for a living? 

“Come on.” Satoru says, patting your thigh twice. 

You snap out of it and hop out of the car, eyes drawing to the two men next to you. Suguru stuffs his keys in his pocket and slides beside you, snaking his arm up your back. His hand rests against the nape of your neck, softly holding you. The act feels borderline protective.

You peer up at him and he grants you a smile before leading you next to him, guiding you by your neck towards the hotel entrance. It’s even nicer on the inside than it is on the outside. 

A chandelier hangs from the ceiling, you know that it must be made of glass but at first glance it looks like diamonds. There’s little dots along the walls from the reflection of the fine material, hypnotizing you. A soft tune echoes in the background, Mozart you think, that lulls you into a sense of relaxation. 

“Good afternoon.” The check in attendant nods at Suguru. 

Does this scene look weird to him? 

Suguru acts as though it’s completely normal, dipping his head down in response before facing forward again, heading towards the elevators. Maybe it was normal for Suguru. 

Maybe they’d done this countless times before, and you weren’t special. You have to remind yourself that that’s the point. You weren’t any better. In fact, you’re pretty sure you’re objectively worse. Tonight wouldn’t mean anything. Just a quick, nasty fuck. 

Out of your periphery you see Satoru jab his finger into the elevator button. He seems a bit impatient. Excited, maybe. 

He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking up as the numbers on the screen decrease, indicating the elevator was inching closer and closer. 

He’s a bit beautiful. 

You knew that before. But his beauty looks different under the fine chandelier light of the hotel. The way he looked in the dingy bar, although still incredibly attractive, was a far cry from how he appears now. Almost ethereal, you’d say. The warm glow of the lights above make him look like a painting. 

Suguru’s the same as Satoru. The lighting and surroundings of the hotel are making him appear even more stunning than before. When you peer up at him, he glances down and grins back at you. It feels like you’ve been caught red handed. You look away quickly, just in time to watch the elevator doors slide open. 

Satoru hops in and waits for you and Suguru to enter before pressing ‘18’. 

The music inside the elevator is much more quiet, yet you’re still grateful for it. You’re nervous, your fists clenching and unclenching at your sides. It was hard to believe that you were really doing this. The soft piano helps soothe your nerves, as you will your mind to stop racing.

Suguru’s hand slides off your neck and you find yourself almost missing the sensation. The warmth from his palm fades away, along with the sense of protection it provided. 

You only have a moments reprieve before the other man jumps at you. 

Satoru’s mouth is on yours in an instant, his tongue smoothing along your bottom lip. You groan in surprise before following along, letting your hands slide up his shirt. 

He’s muscular. 

Images flash in your brain of what he may look like shirtless. Your mind paints up a mouthwatering scene, full of hard lines and bulging muscles.

Your mouth opens to accept him, his tongue quickly entangling with yours. It’s hot and messy. Spit dribbles from the sides of your lips, and you can hardly catch your breath. 

“Don’t be so greedy, Satoru.” Suguru chides. 

Shit, you had almost forgotten he was there. 

Embarrassment fills your veins instantly. It suddenly hits you that you were going to have sex with both of them. How was this going to work? The idea seems daunting. 

Satoru grunts in retaliation and you almost think he doesn’t want to share. The man proves you wrong though, when he tugs you forward towards him. His body crashes against yours, and you have to hold his firm biceps to stabilize yourself. Suguru glides behind you, his hands quickly finding your hips. 

You’re trapped. 

Satoru parts from your lips, a thin string of saliva snapping once he removes himself. Your mind is crowded by lust as you look up at him with heavy lids. 

You want more. 

It’s a good thing there were two of them. 

Suguru grips your chin from behind and turns your head sideways, pressing his mouth against yours. His lips aren’t as sweet as Satoru, but it makes your knees weak all the same. 

Suguru is more methodical in his approach. He waits until you’re reaching a hand down, squeezing his arm against your waist. With a chuckle he parts his lips, sliding his tongue along your mouth, the movement painfully slow.

Satoru has moved his focus to your neck now. He’s kissing and biting down the column of your throat, the heat from his breathing making you shiver. You use your other hand to glide through his hair, urging him forward to continue his attack on your throat. 

Only when he starts sucking do you realize the severity of his actions. 

“N-no hickeys.” You tear yourself away from Suguru to say. 

Satoru looks at you for a second before chuckling, dragging his tongue up your throat. “Sure thing, princess.” 

Your shoulders sag in relief as you feel Satoru begin to go easy on you, only licking and kissing your tender flesh. You’re grateful you caught him in time. 

Suguru kisses you once more and you moan, a sound that spurs the two men on. Satoru raises a hand to paw at your breasts through your dress, and Suguru’s grip has tightened. 

The elevator dings just in time. 

Your entanglement felt longer than a life time, but it couldn’t have been more than two minutes. Suguru reluctantly tears himself away from you, watching as you catch your breath. Satoru is a bit more stubborn, only stopping once you say his name. 

Luckily the hallway in front of you is empty. The three of you step out, and you let them guide you to their room. 

“Here we are.” Satoru murmurs. 

Suguru, apparently master of the keys, lifts up a card and unlocks the door. When it opens he pushes the door in, letting you and Satoru go first. 

The room is huge. 

There’s a living room with a decent sized kitchen, along with two doors that can only lead to what you assume to be bedrooms. 

“Home sweet home,” Satoru lifts up a hand, waving it towards their hotel room. “Well, I guess hotel sweet hotel-“ 

“Satoru.” You all but plead, looking up at him desperately. 

His eyes flick down to you and he grins before stepping closer. 

“Sorry baby, you need something, huh?” He crashes his lips against yours again. 

The kiss is even more urgent this time around. Satoru lifts his glasses up blindly, before walking backwards to lead you further inside. 

You reach behind your back and pat around, trying to feel for your zipper. You need your clothes off now. When you don’t feel the flimsy tab, you turn around and look over your shoulder as if that will help any.  

“Keep having your fun, princess.” Suguru murmurs, his fingers expertly finding the elusive zipper. 

You whine and face forward again, kissing Satoru once more. Suguru carefully pulls it down, a cool rush of air grazing your back once it’s open. 

He leans down and kisses your spine, slowly making his way up while you shove your tongue down Satoru’s throat. 

The room’s spinning, you’re sure of it. 

Suguru takes his lips off your back so he can slide the dress off your shoulders, his hands grazing your skin causing you to break out in goosebumps. 

The dress falls to the floor, leaving you exposed in only your bra and underwear. It was an expensive set, one you had bought years ago yet hadn’t gotten much of a use out of. 

Satoru pulls his lips away to glance down at your figure before looking back up at your face. Your lips are swollen, eyes fluttering in need. 

“Shit…” he whispers to himself before kissing you again. 

Suguru’s hands roam your body, letting you have your playtime as he explores your skin. His palms glide against your stomach and thighs, moving slowly. 

You must be soaked already. 

Satoru tears himself back again, hands reaching for his shirt. He undresses in a matter of seconds, leaving himself only in his underwear. His body is even more amazing than you had conjured up in your mind. 

He was muscular without being overtly so, leaning more towards the body of a runner. His skin is pale, matching the tone of his hair. 

You run your hands up his stomach to his chest, letting your fingers dance along the grooves of his muscles. His head hangs low as he watches you drag your nails against him. 

Suguru stands next to you as he pulls his shirt off his head, the action catching your eye. You turn around and allow your gaze to float down to his chest. He looks just as perfect as Satoru. 

You tug Suguru closer and kiss him, his slow pace allowing you a chance to recuperate. 

“Want you to sit on my face.” Satoru says, his hands skirting along your body. 

So much for recuperating. 

“O-okay.” 

Satoru leads you and Suguru into one of the bedrooms before making himself comfortable on the bed. His form takes up the whole length of the bed, head at the end as he looks up expectantly. 

You look over your shoulder to see Suguru watching you. His lids are heavy as he stares at you, desire unmistakably falling over his features. He dips his head as if he was comforting you, or giving you permission. You slide your underwear off before tossing a leg over Satoru’s face, lowering yourself just above his mouth. You’re facing the end of the bed, Suguru standing in front of you. 

“So fucking wet.” Satoru mumbles to himself before sticking his tongue out, tugging your hips down until he meets your pussy. 

“F-fuck!” You moan, your hand latching onto his white locks. 

“That feel good?” Suguru asks. 

You bite your lip and look up at him, watching as his hand reaches down to unbuckle his pants. The sight makes you flustered. He maintains eye contact as he tugs them down, his cock still contained behind his underwear. 

“Open.” He says in a hushed tone. 

Your lips part, jaw dropping open at his order. 

“Atta girl.” 

Suguru eases his thumb into your mouth, watching as your lips wrap around him. You suck softly, bobbing your head as you lick the sides of his thumb. 

He looks delighted as you perform for him. You try your best to focus on the task at hand, but Satoru is making it increasingly difficult. His tongue is sticking out, flicking against your swollen clit. He drags it down before teasing your entrance, poking in several times before retreating to suck on your nub. 

You tug at his hair, grinding your body down against him. His hands have a tight grip on your ass, helping you hump against his mouth. 

“There you go, ride my fucking face.” Satoru growls below you. 

Your eyes roll back in your head, the pleasure coursing through your body. 

Suguru uses his other hand to pull down his boxers, allowing his cock to jump free. Everything feels too good. When you look back down, the sight makes you lightheaded. His cock is hard, tip leaky with anticipation as he watches you. 

He pumps it several times before reaching down to grab your free hand. Suguru wraps it around his cock, giving you free reign to pump him. 

His thumb never leaves your mouth. You’re sort of glad it doesn’t. If it did, you aren’t sure how loud you would be moaning. 

Suguru looks at your face as you begin to jack him off. He’s far more interested in watching you suck his thumb.

Satoru sucks on your clit, his eyes closed as he focuses on your body. You can feel yourself drip into him. 

“You gonna cum for us? On Satoru’s face?” Suguru coos. 

You moan around his thumb and squeeze your eyes shut. Fuck, you were going to cum on Satoru’s face. Soon, probably. 

Your palm slides down Suguru’s cock as your fist fucks him. He’s hot and heavy in your hand, his precum making the glide that much easier. 

Satoru speeds his actions up, his lips wrapped tightly around your nub. Your body tightens up in response, and you begin to cum. 

Satoru aides you through your orgasm, sucking the entire time as you twist above him. Your hand slows against Suguru’s cock as you pant around his thumb. 

Satoru flicks his tongue against your clit slowly before removing his mouth from you, allowing you to slide off his face. 

He sits up once you’re off, his chin completely covered in your essence. You’re almost embarrassed. Satoru looks unaffected, letting his tongue clean the cum on his lips. 

“Let’s go baby.” Satoru says. 

Suguru eases his thumb from your mouth, chuckling at the whimper you let out. You were really starting to get into it, too. 

Satoru helps you get onto your hands and knees, facing forward towards Suguru. Suguru reaches down to unclasp your bra, pulling it off your body before tossing it to the side. Your nipples instantly harden from the cold air. 

Satoru smoothes his hands down your back while admiring your trembling form beneath him. Aftershocks from your previous orgasm were still racking through your body. He tears his gaze away to look at the bedside table, grumbling before he finds what he’s looking for. You hear the sound of a condom being opened as you stare at Suguru’s cock. 

Would you be able to fit that in your mouth? 

“Alright,” Satoru mumbles, sliding the condom on before lining himself up with your entrance.

You part your lips, waiting for Suguru to slide himself in your mouth. Satoru’s cock pokes at your entrance, pushing past as he sinks into your pussy. You groan, your walls rushing to accommodate the stretch. 

Satoru’s jaw is clenched as he looks down, watching your pussy greedily accept him, squeezing his cock until he’s finally all of the way in. 

He pauses for a moment, and you slip Suguru’s cock into your mouth. His tip eases past your lips, precum dripping onto your taste buds as he pushes himself in further. 

You gag a bit, nose flaring as you try to breathe around his cock. It’s more difficult than you anticipated, drool sliding down your chin as you go as far as you can. 

Satoru begins to shallowly pump inside you, while Suguru starts to rock his hips. 

It doesn’t take long before Satoru is fucking you properly, the slick of your cum making it easy to glide inside you. Suguru lets you control the pace, bobbing your head against his cock as you swallow around him. 

Satoru pushes against your gspot with each thrust, the sensation making you moan around Suguru. 

This felt so good, you were left wondering why you didn’t do it sooner. 

Satoru groans behind you, feeling like his cock was being choked by your pussy. He reaches down and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. You moan and your pussy tightens around Satoru in reaction. 

“Thaaaat’s it.” Satoru sounds almost breathless. “Bet your husband doesn’t fuck you this good, does he?” 

You stutter around Suguru, confusion sparking inside you. 

Husband?

How did he know?

Satoru laughs loudly, continuing to fuck into you. 

“What? You didn’t think we’d notice?” Suguru inserts himself into the discussion. “There’s a tan line around your ring finger, darling.”

Satoru thrusts into you even harder. “No hickeys? Come on.” His fingers speed up around your clit, making you moan against Suguru. “So I’ll repeat myself, your husband doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” 

The humiliation was almost suffocating, yet it turned you on so badly you could hardly stand it. 

Suguru pulls himself from your throat, watching as you loudly gasp for air. 

You feel ruined. But you like it. 

“N-no,” you moan out. 

“No? That’s right.” Satoru mumbles under his breath. 

With each thrust it feels like he’s knocking all common sense from you. Your fingers dig into the sheets below, hoping it will relieve some of the pressure but all it manages to do is crumple the bedding. 

Suguru presses himself back into your throat, throwing his head back as you bob your head along him. You run your tongue down the sides of his cock, stroking him as you suck. 

“Can tell you aren’t happy with him, you just needed to be fucked properly, is that right?” Satoru continues. 

You moan around Suguru, unable to reply. Satoru understands the sentiment, pressing harder against your clit. You tighten up around him again, unable to control the way your cunt squeezes him. He keeps filling you up, his cock somehow pressing into all the right places. You’re getting close to cumming again, body begging for the sensation once more. 

Satoru’s hands are gripping your hips hard, so hard that there’s a voice in the back of your brain telling you he may leave marks, but you’re in too deep already. Drool is seeping from your lips, hanging in strings down your chin as you swallow Suguru’s cock. You wonder who’s going to cum first. 

Your orgasm inches closer, made possible by the strum of Satoru’s fingers against your needy clit. He’s groaning behind you, the sounds spurring you on. 

“Come on, come on baby. Cum on my cock.” He urges with a groan. 

Your pussy clenches around his cock hard and you release, cumming harder than you ever have before. 

“Just like that, just like that.” He talks you through it, a whimper breaking his voice. 

Suguru makes good use of your slack jaw, pounding so hard into your throat that you surmise it’s going to bruise. There’s no oxygen in your brain, no thoughts in your head, just pure bliss as you cum on Satoru. 

“You’re gonna make me-“ Satoru lets out a long moan, hips jerking against you, his cock twitching as he fills the condom with his cum. 

You’re trying to breathe heavily through your nose as you come down, allowing Suguru to use you as he sees fit. His face is concentrated as he stares down at you, admiring the mess you’ve become as he fucks your throat. He swears under his breath before coming to a stop, spurting hot cum in your mouth. 

You struggle to swallow it all, briefly feeling like you were drowning in the fluid, before you gulp it down. It’s messy, some of his cum paints your lips as he slides his now softening cock out of your mouth. 

The room is filled with the sounds of your mixed panting, bodies all entering a state of relaxation. Satoru eases himself from your pussy, inhaling sharply as he slips out. He removes the condom, tying it before tossing it into the bin beside the bed. You’re in complete bliss, fucked out from every orifice. 

Suguru smoothes your hair down and finds a washcloth to wipe the filth from your lips, smiling to himself at your expression. 

“You can stay the night, if you’d like.” Satoru says as he relaxes on the bed. 

He glances at the clock and ascertains that it’s much later than you were intending. You mumble to yourself and nod, not fully comprehending what ramifications may be waiting at home for you. 

Satoru opens the blankets for you, waiting as Suguru cleans between your legs. The actions are a bit sweet. Everything is. You were expecting them to kick you to the curb after you had sex, so you’re pleasantly surprised when they slide in bed next to you, laying on either side. 

Satoru’s arms are wrapped tightly around your frame as you nod off, and you feel truly happy for the first time in years. 

~~~

You aren’t sure what wakes you up in the morning. Your internal clock, maybe. Your body is sore as you groan, flipping onto your back. The hotel ceiling greets you as you crack your eyes open. A brief bit of panic courses through you. 

So last night was real, huh? 

You turn your head and notice the bed beside you is completely devoid of anyone else, both men seemingly having vanished. You aren’t sure if you feel more sad or relieved. Sad because you enjoyed their presence, but relieved because now you could pretend like nothing happened. 

Is that what you wanted to do? 

You were having a hard time believing that that would be easy, that you could go back to your old life and be content when you knew there was so much more out there. 

You sit up and look towards the clock. You were in deep shit. There’s a note on the beside table that catches your attention. You lift it up, reading the words on the page. It fills you with a deep sense of satisfaction once you notice a phone number on it.

“Call us if you want to have a good time. -Satoru and Suguru.” 

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @dinolvrrr, @kimi01985, @mikisspeak, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothicwhore666, @bunviixo

If you want to be tagged just let me know, please specify what you want to be tagged in

[furiousladyking]

It's a Date

It's a Date - Part One??

Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: this is kind of a feeler to see if anyone is interested in yet another fic in this trope

Summary: Jake Seresin is feeling defeated. His youngest sister, Brooke is getting married in 3 weeks, and he has yet to find a date. While he loves his family, he can't say he enjoys getting those comments from his mother about when he is going to find a "nice girl" and settle down. In comes Y/N "Casper" L/N, a prime target to help get rid of the one on Jake's back.

Warnings: probably very incorrect military information - but hey we're trying our best, probably profanity

________________________________________

The Hard Deck was seemingly filled to the brim with aviators and civilians alike, something quite common for a Friday night in July. The crowd was loud, and there was an old rock song playing, however drowned out. The familiar clink of pool balls and thump of darts lulled incredibly tired individuals into a sense of calm.

In an entirely uncommon event, Hangman was... quiet. Too quiet if you ask any of his fellow aviators. Looks were passed, and whispers between Phoenix and Bob were somewhat hidden for thirty minutes.

"As much as we all appreciate a little bit of a break from hearing you go on about how great you are, you're kind of freaking me out," Phoenix tried as she walked up to the pool table. Coyote snickered beside her.

"Hmm?" Rooster quirked an eyebrow at the distracted man beside him. No come back? No stab at flirting? He took the pool cue and placed one end of the floor. He waited a moment. Despite the far away look in Jake's eye, he sunk the shot he had lined up. Rolling his eyes, Rooster decided to test the boundaries.

"Hey Hangman, did you hear that Cyclone let me know I was getting a promotion? Lieutenant Commander."

"Wow, that's cool," Hangman replied. He lined up his next shot. Those surrounding the pool table were a bit taken aback. Bringing his cue back, he stuttered on the follow through. "Wait, what?" The ball missed the pocket by about half a foot.

"There he is," Bob said from his seat, rolling his eyes.

"Lieutenant Commander? Rooster we both know you'd be the last-" Hangman began, hitting what the squad called his sassy stance. One hand on his hip, jutted out, the other holding his cue stick.

"Hey, no need to hurl insults, I was just seeing how out of it you were. Wasn't sure if we needed to send you to the infirmary. Your ego wasn't practically suffocating us" Rooster put his hands up in a mock-surrender.

Hangman placed his hand on his face, letting it slide down in hopes it wipe the worry away. He debated on brushing it off and telling them he was just picturing the best way to rub in his latest win during their dogfighting. The Dagger Squad had been stationed together in Miramar for a little over a year and no one was being reassigned anytime soon. Jake had been making a conscious effort to be more vulnerable with the squad, to let them in as his chosen family.

"My sister is getting married in 3 weeks."

The others were silent for a moment.

"Congratulations?" Phoenix offered. Hangman sighed and shook his head, mostly to himself.

"When they started planning the wedding six months ago I told my mom I had someone to bring with me," He started. Rooster cocked his head to the side. "She reminded me on a phone call about how excited she is to meet my girlfriend"

"Hangman has a girlfriend?" Fanboy pipped in, after hearing bits of the conversation.

"He doesn't," Rooster answered for him. "That's the problem."

"Hey, why don't you get someone to go with you and just act like you are dating?" Bob spoke from his spot on the chair. Suddenly feeling numerous eyes, he started to defend, "I've heard people do it a lot."

"I'm not bringing some hooker to meet my family," Hangman huffed, glaring in Bob's direction, then softening his gaze. "I'm just going to have to tell my mom that she and I broke up. Maybe she'll even pity me enough to not try and set me up with her friend's children." Jake leaned his pool stick up against the table and went to sit down next to Bob. He sipped his drink as he pondered how that would play out in reality.

"Get Casper to go with you." Hangman almost choked on his drink. He looked incredulously in Coyote's direction. "Think about it, she's the only one you know well enough to pretend you've been dating. Besides Phoenix, but we all know her acting skills wouldn't be good enough to go along with being your girlfriend for four days." Phoenix elbowed him in the rib. Coyote tries to stand tall, but still clutches his side in his hands.

As if on cue, he hears her voice. Still in her service khakis and hair in a bun, she carries her drink with her toward the group.

"Hey, what are we talking about?"

"I swear this type of shit only happens in movies."

_______________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Anyway, let me know if this is something I should even consider continuing!

[messedupfan]

Chapter 2

Summary: Wanda is putting herself back together bit by bit. Vision doesn't make it easy.

A/n: I'm really enjoying writing this series. I hope all of you enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Wanda arrived home, she was too distracted to entertain her brother further. She tried to get rid of him but he refused to leave until she agreed to let him help her fix the side of her house. “Okay!” she said, exhausted. “You can do the work! Now go, please,” she had begged. He then offered to take the boys for the night and she let him. With the reminder that they had to be back before four the next day to spend the week with their father. 

Wanda hardly slept that night. She drank the beverage you had bought for her as she smoked a couple of cigarettes and worked on the plans for a new room in her house. As she worked she thought about what the space could be used for. The place itself had four bedrooms and her office space on the second floor. The first floor consisted of a living room,  den, laundry/utility room that led to the garage, and kitchen/dining area. Then, there was the basement. Vision had claimed it as his man cave especially after she gave it quite the makeover. He has been out of the house for a while and has yet come to tear it down. Wanda doesn't have the heart to do it herself just yet, but she knows that the boys could use the space. 

As she drew the space with large windows, because the house never felt like enough light was coming through, she realized the space could be the dining room she had wanted. Wanda woke up the next day in her office, to her brother nudging her awake with worry. All she does is show him the blueprints and walks away to clean up and take care of her hangover. 

When Vision arrived to pick up the boys he noticed the tarp covered hole on the side of the house and matched in angrily. “I did not give you the house so you could-”

“No Vis, you did not give me the house. You lost it in the divorce,” Wanda corrected. “This is my house, I can do as I damn well please.”

The boys raced down the stairs before Vision could say anymore. He was many things, but he was not going to curse Wanda out in front of the children. It pained Wanda to come to the realization that the boys know this about their father and feel the need to protect her. That was her job. She was supposed to protect them and herself. “Get in the car boys,” Vision says sharply. 

“Give me a hug,” Wanda says and the boys took turns in holding their mom in a goodbye. “You boys be good for your dad, okay?” They both agreed and reluctantly walked out the door to the car. 

“What were you thinking when you destroyed this house? I was supposed to have people over for the game tonight! Now I have to cancel!” Vision says, frustrated as he stared at the broken wall. 

Wanda shook her head and shrugged, “Should have thought of that before you tore this family apart.”

“You’ve changed,” he observed with a scowl. “I don’t like it.” 

“Good, now go,” she says, waving the direction to the door. “And don’t think your entitled ass can host game night here again. I want you to get your shit from the basement when you bring the boys back home next weekend.” 

Vision laughs and rolls his eyes, pretending that he doesn’t believe that she is being serious. “Or what?”

“I’ll throw it out or give it away,” she states calmly. Her calmness throws him off. Wanda took pride in watching him stumble on his words. “Bye, Vis,” she says as she walks away from the conversation. He slammed the door to make his exit known and Wanda began to shake as she lost all the strength she had for the conversation. Tears rushed out aggressively and she sobbed in fear of what her ex-husband might do since she stood up to him. 

The rest of the week flies by as she is drowning in work and her new side project. She completely forgets about her arrangement with you until she is cleaning her house on Saturday and finds the bottle you bought her along with the pack of cigarettes she hadn't touched since that night. She checked her watch and saw that she would be cutting it close but she could still make it on time. Wanda passes a mirror and sees the mess that she is. Her hair is tangled and unruly. She was in her stained cleaning overalls with an old t-shirt with holes. Part of her thought she should change. But the thought quickly left her as she figures she isn't trying to impress anyone. So she leaves as is. Playing out an argument with you in her head if you have anything to say about it. 

When she arrives, you are leaning against the building, smoking a cigarette. Wanda exits her car, “Alright, let's go inside and pick something for you.” 

You put out the cigarette with a laugh,“Not bad, huh?” You hold the store's door open for her.

She shakes her head as she walks past you, “Not bad at all. Thank you.” Standing close by her, you follow her through the store. Spotting the next drinks you're going to recommend to her if the two of you continue this little game. “Here it is,” she stops suddenly and you crash your chest into her back. 

“Sorry,” you blush. 

“It’s, uh, it's no problem,” she blinks a couple of times before handing the bottle to you so that you can look it over. Just when you had thought you had tried it all, you find the brand to be unrecognizable. “I’m actually surprised to see this here. It's hard to track down unless you know someone. It's from my mothers' country. She used to have family send her a year's supply every Christmas.”

You nod, understanding why you've never seen this before. “It’s good?” You ask. 

“I wouldn't recommend it if it wasn't,” she confirms. And you agree to try it, asking what's the best way to serve it. “A shot or… oh! There's a few cocktails that are really good. I don't know them off the top of my head though,” she taps her lips in thought. “You’re not a creep right?” she asks suddenly. 

You laugh awkwardly, “I would like to believe I'm not but I can't definitively answer that.”

“Why not?” 

“Because I don't know what behavior I exhibit that you would define as creepy,” you explain. 

Wanda nods once as she understands, “Good point.” She plays with her lips in thought and shrugs. She grabs her pen and pocket sized sketchbook from her overalls and writes down her number. “If you start to be a creep, I will block you. Then you can have a definitive answer for the next person who asks.” 

This makes you laugh again, this time it's more genuine. But not because you are mocking her thinking, the conversation just amused you. You take the slip of paper she holds out, “I promise not to be creepy.” 

“Good,” she takes the bottle over to the counter and purchases it. You put her number in your phone as you wait. “Same time next week?” She holds the bag out for you. 

It takes you a second to work out the schedule in your mind. The other day, you agreed to do a favor for your friend. It was free labor on the weekends but he said he and his sister were covering the costs of all materials. He just needed an extra set of hands. Normally you wouldn't have agreed since Saturday is the day you drop off or pick up your daughter. That way the two of you can have fun together on the weekends. Doing this favor, she would have to spend her weekends either with a sitter or onsite, which his friend said he was willing to accommodate for. However, you did owe him a really big favor and he said his sister was going through a rough time. You didn't mind helping, you were just concerned about your daughter's time being compromised. And now Saturdays might include this. “Uh yeah, I might be a little late but it should work out.” 

“You know what,” Wanda waves her hand, “You have my number now. Let me know when.” 

You smile gratefully, “Thank you, I definitely will.” You open the door for her as the two of you leave. “I’ll see you soon,” you wiggle the bottle in the air and get in your car. 

“I’ll see you soon,” Wanda shouts from outside her car. She returns to her house and sighs as she looks at the mess. She gets back to cleaning so that her boys can come back to a nice clean home. 

It has been years since she's had this motivation to keep the house clean. The house wasn't a bad episode of Hoarders but it wasn't the set of some popular family sitcom either. She wanted to be better about keeping the house clean now that it was mostly on her. Of course, she will teach the boys to do some chores when they're a little older. But for now, she feels they deserve the mother they had a few years ago. The kind that kept up with house chores and made dinner instead of getting the takeout everyday of the week. The boys always came back from their fathers talking about Vision and Virginia's cooking. It saddened her. 

Several years ago, her and Vision would cook together. They wanted it to encourage the boys to want to learn how to cook. Vision is Tommy and Billy's hero. Anything their father does, they want to do as well. So, in order to raise good boys, Wanda asked Vision to cook dinner with her as much as possible. He was reluctant at the start but eventually gave in and even found a liking to the craft. They took a few cooking classes for date night for a time. It was one of the few activities that Vision and Wanda hardly fought during. 

As the boys got older, they started to get curious and it led to Wanda and Vision teaching them basic steps in the process. Wanda stands in the kitchen as the rose colored lenses fill her memory of only the cute moments she shared with her family once upon a time. The laughter that filled the room, the fun messes that caused the noise, the delicious meals and treats after. She remembers it all with a broken heart. 

It doesn't include when Vision wasn't paying attention to Billy and the boy reached for the knife his dad set down on the counter, it fell and luckily only the butt of the knife hit the little boy's foot. In shock, he burst into tears and screamed his head off. Wanda watched both her life and his flash before her eyes as she witnessed the incident from across the room. She rushed to his side in fear, making sure he was fine and trying to console him while Vision screamed at the boy. Blaming the entire incident on the curious six-year-old. 

She isn't reminded of the night Vision came clean about his affair. He told her while she was washing the dishes. He was griping on and on about how she was lost and needed professional help. That he was exhausted from carrying the family on his own. That it felt like he lost his daughter and his wife in the same day. That she needed to get over her grief already and take care of the family she did have. Which, to a point, he wasn't wrong. She did need to open her eyes. But that didn't make his cheating right. 

Wanda crumbles by the kitchen island as she thinks about the day they took the first house tour, how he spun her in the kitchen with excitement. She curls into a ball on the floor, praying that a hole comes and swallows her, when her phone buzzes in her pocket with a notification. It's a greeting from you. Then another message, asking for the cocktail recipes. She is shaking as she reads the messages. She can't respond, she isn't in the right mind. Instead, she goes to Vision’s profile to scroll through his recent posts. 

The first one is the back of her boys and his son holding their hands as they walk in the direction of a sunset. His new wife was obsessed with aesthetics almost as much as he is. The next one is an announcement of another pregnancy. Vision’s hand rests on top of Virginia's over her stomach. Wanda drops her phone in tears. He was gone, she couldn’t fight for him back and she had to accept that she lost him. 

After another hour of wallowing in her self pity, Wanda picks herself back up off the floor, takes a couple of shots from the bottle you bought her, and she gets back to cleaning. She reminds herself that she doesn’t need him as she scrubs the counters. She needs her boys. She needs herself. She needs to get out of this self pitying rut about the loss of her marriage. It was clear, she was the only one still affected by this. Vision and her boys have moved on. So should she. 

In the morning, Wanda wakes to a spotless home for the first time since she left the house to deliver her daughter. The feeling is way more refreshing than she ever thought it would be. Around lunch time, as she's preparing a meal for herself, she remembers that she hasn't responded to you yet. She searches for the cocktail recipes that her parents had given her years ago and types them out for you. She would have sent pictures but they were written in her mother's native language. It wasn't a common language in the States like Spanish, French, or German. Options she was given when she was in school. So, she didn't assume that you could speak it. 

After a couple of hours, she receives a thank you message with a picture of one of the cocktails looking a little off to her. A thought of inviting you over crosses her mind until the boys are running through the front door. She greets them both with warm hugs. “Where’s your dad?” she asks. Last night, Wanda had started the tear down of the mancave to make the move for him a little easier.  

But when she looks out the kitchen window with the view of the front house, Vision is driving away with a middle finger in the air. She covers her boys eyes as they try to peer out the window. She closes her own eyes and takes a few breaths to calm the burning rage. “What should we make for dinner?” she asks them and they look at her confused. 

“It’s only the afternoon noon,” Billy points out. 

“It’s too early to start dinner,” Tommy continues. 

“I know,” Wanda laughs and moves hair out of her boy's faces. They need a haircut soon, she makes a mental note. “We need to go shopping for the ingredients.”

“Oh,” they drag out the word in unison as they feel relieved that their mom isn't going insane just yet. They look at each other as they think about the meal their dad says they can't ever make because their step mom is allergic. They make the suggestion and Wanda feeds off of their excitement. She pulls out her phone to find the recipe and grabs a notepad and pen and offers it to either boy. Billy takes it because he claims he has better handwriting. Tommy, insecure about his spelling, doesn't fight his brother on this. 

Wanda says each ingredient and tells him how much to mark down next to them and when the list is ready, they leave for the grocery store. Shopping with the twins goes much smoother than it ever has. They're focused and excited to make the dish. Something she never thought she'd see in ten-year-old boys. It fills her with pride. She remembers seeing cooking as a chore and she hated doing any of it growing up. She's happy that her and Vision found a way to make it something fun and that the boys look forward to it. 

Then, it saddens her that she's deprived them of this for the past two years. She has to shake herself out of it before she lets the negative feelings consume her again and rob her boys of the meal they're so ready to make. 

Back home, the three get all of the ingredients ready and although it's still too early for dinner, they decide not to wait any longer to make the dish. They barely even let it sit before serving themselves. “Thank you for the meal boys,” Wanda kisses each of them on their heads, “I love the both of you so much.”

“We love you too, mom!” Billy says happily. Tommy stays silent and he nudges his brother. 

Tommy makes an ugly face, “Yuck! Love is for sissies!” 

“Hey mister!” Wanda scolds her son. “You will learn one day that love is what makes a person brave. And I don't want to hear you using that kind of language again. Are we clear?” 

“Yes ma'am,” Tommy says into his plate as he plays with the remaining bits of food. 

“Okay, now both of you go get cleaned up. We're going to have a family movie night,” Wanda says as she collects the plates from the table.

Chapter 3

Taglist: @princessprudy @sayah13 @agaymilflover @awkwardmandalorian @bentleywolf29 @evenbeingcrazy1998 @olsensnpm @artisannat @thisischaismagic @wqndanat @madamevirgo @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @the-writer-arcane @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @aloneodi @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout @doudouneverte @druggedduck @notbornbutforged @when-wolves-howl @lifespectator @justyourwritter69 @wandaromamoff69 @awesomelygayasf @nekoannie-chan @diaryoflife @wuwu96 @wandanats-goodgirl @sincerely-indi @blueredg52 @sisiwritesfanfics @lizziesplant @fuzzyuniversityeclipsefriend @arcturusseer

[yandere-sins]

I've been reading your orca stories, and Nerrokan is my favorite. Would you ever consider writing a short POV of how the sirens respond to Bad End 3.2?

It doesn't feel like Krill or Lyr like reader outside of being a plaything, but with Nerrokan it's harder to tell at that point in the story. They do seem to have some sort of feeling at that point already though?

(Reading heavily into the "Human, let's sleep over it" line where Nerrokan seems to be warning reader that staying is a bad choice.)

Thank you for reading my stories and enjoying them! However, I don't think I will make another story addition to that, sorry. :')

But I can give some thoughts on what I think is the outcome.

If you are asking about how they'd react to the reader trying to drown themselves, I will have to disappoint you, very few of my stories would actually go that way—I'm more of a "there is no escape" kinda gal. Reader would probably be picked up by some orca and be brought back to the community spot all like "I found you, you're so clumsy! But no wonder since you're a human."

It's a big pack, even if reader wishes that their eyes aren't on them all the time ^^'

So yeah, drowning is not an option and the orcas definitely won't be happy with the mishap, becoming much less confident in leaving the darling with the others and starting to take turns staying with the darling. Which is only making them more depressed in the long run since Lyr and Krill are somewhat 'eh' about their time with the darling unless it involves something fun for them too, like mating. Only Nerrocan likes to actively spend time, take them to the surface, chill in the sun, teach them orca tradition, and make them happy etc.

As we discovered in their stories, Lyr and Krill really don't harbor deeper feelings for this mate, but I suppose it's a bit like an arranged marriage—you develop your new normal and come to terms with each other. However, since Nerrocan is mated to them, the rest of the orcas just assume that goes for all three. Especially since they are so protective and still respected in the pack.

Lyr would never have another child with this human and probably move on to his dolphin!mate at some point.

Between Krill and Nerrocan, if there is another child, it would probably be Nerrocan's. Simply because he treats his mate better and is involved so they might actually develop a closer relationship. Which in turn leads to Krill's mother finally being dethroned, but even though we didn't get to see much from her, Nerrocan's mom isn't much better as a leader.

Krill would also probably come to resent Nerrocan and his aunt for it, and eventually the human and his own child. Strangely, he can't get over the death of his own mom despite wanting nothing more than to be rid of her. It's a pride thing and the fact that he suffers from the demotion the most.

As for your last point, Nerrocan did want reader not to make a hasty decision because he had already planned on taking them away. Them agreeing and giving themselves to the others was fatal to his plan so he wanted them to 'sleep over it'. He couldn't proceed to execute it once their life were too entangled with everyone's and perhaps he also didn't want to. He got to be with them regardless, even though them growing more and more depressed inevitably hurts him too.

Hope this gave you some ideas for the continuation! Thank you again for reading ♥

[ovwechoes]

Hellaur…. starting on a side note because i loved your had habit headcanons 🙏 would you be okay with writing something short about Lucio with a mtf reader that is conscious about their voice… like not talking much in public… afraid to sing along… Lucio is such a goober why is there so few fics about him 😭 there are barely any mtf fics too please save me from the trenches if you feel like it

A Song of Courage: Lucio x Reader (MTF) Of course! I'm happy to write something for you - I'm not MTF so I apologise if anything is inaccurate or doesn't apply. Any and all feedback is accepted, and thank you for the request anon! It's under the cut for you c:

There were always going to be days where you'd struggle more than others, this is something you always knew and had accepted. It never got easier, though, even with Lucio on your side, supporting you throughout your transition. Dysphoria was like a disease - once it spread it was hard getting rid of it. This especially applied to your voice, and the way you sounded when you talked. Lucio often told you your voice was heavenly, and that he loved it and loved to hear the way words rolled of your tongue. You couldn't see that, though, and you couldn't bring yourself to speak in public or around strangers. It's not something that bothered your partner, but you could see he was in pain knowing he couldn't take your struggle away for you.

Today was an especially hard day for you. The minute you woke up, you knew something felt wrong, off even. You couldn't place it and you were left thinking throughout the morning what was wrong. That is, until you uttered a good morning to Lucio when you saw he had finally rolled out of bed. The way your voice echoed in your head, vibrated through your bones, and sounded through your own ears made your stomach drop. Your heart was in pieces, and that familiar feeling of anxiety and dread had came back to haunt you another day. Your emotions felt tenfold today, though, and the thought of going on your planned date with Lucio felt nightmarish. Your mind raced as Lucio's voice was drowned out by your insecurities replaying over and over again. Your heart thumped through your chest, begging for a break from the nightmare that was dysphoria. You couldn't focus on reality, and Lucio could see that written on your face.

“Y/N… Are you okay? What's going on?” he muttered, sitting himself next to you and watching your expression with worry. You didn't like putting him in this position, and it pained you to see him worry about you. You couldn't bring yourself to speak again, and could only stare at him as the tears started to build in your eyes. Did he hear how masculine your voice was? Did he feel disgust when he heard you speak? You didn't know, and the unknown was killing you. His hand moved to your face, in a rapid attempt to calm you down and ground you back to reality. You were like a balloon slipping from someone's grasp, with Lucio desperately trying to catch it before it was gone for good. You felt his thumb rub the wet spots left from your tears as they rolled down your cheek. Embarrassment had struck as you realised what was happening, and you felt more shameful now than before for letting yourself get to this point. You still couldn't speak, and so you shook your head with Lucio watching with an open mind.

“Take your time, it's okay. You don't need to speak now, but please tell me what's wrong. You don't have to do this alone, you never have to. I'm here, Y/N, just trust me.” he said with a warm, soft, comforting tone that melted your heart with appreciation. You felt yourself slowly drifting back to Earth, your mind slowing, the panic setting itself aside. You encouraged yourself to speak, in hopes that he wouldn't judge you, wouldn't leave your side, and truly meant what he said.

As you spoke your mind, aired your concerns, and made it clear how uncomfortable you were with your voice, it was as though it clicked in Lucio's head what had happened. All he could do was listen, as he kept watching your expression, showing you he's listening by placing his hand somewhere new like your thigh, your arm, your other cheek, anywhere to keep you grounded and present. He stayed silent after you finished, waiting for you to show he was okay to say his response. You wanted reassurance, and he knew he needed to bring his all to this conversation. You watched as his mind calculated the perfect way to express his thoughts, and made sure to do so in a way that didn't disregard your feelings. When he was ready, he made sure to hold your hand throughout to keep his love for you flowing from his body to yours.

“Look, you know how much I love your voice. It brings me to tears sometimes, knowing you don't know the beauty you hold from speaking alone. Thing is, y/n, you don't sound the same when you hear yourself through your own ears - your voice vibrates against bones, makes it sound so much deeper than it actually is. It's something I had to get used to too.” he explained, you had heard it before but the way he was explaining comforted you somehow. Lucio was bringing the logic back in your anxiety, and it was helping deplete it more and more. He watched as you listened, and waited to keep talking to make sure you were comfortable. 

“I got an idea, now don't shoot it down, don't try and talk yourself out of it, just listen and keep an open mind about it, m'kay?” he asked in a humble way, as though he was nervous to suggest it. You were willing to try anything at this point, just to quiet the anxiety that filled your mind at times. You nodded, and this prompted him to continue sharing his thoughts and suggestion. 

“How about we go to my private studio? And before you say anything else, I know you hate speaking in public. I'll make everyone leave, and we can record something for you. Even if you just want to sing, or don't want to that's fine. I want you to hear what I hear when I hear your voice, and to understand why I love it so much”. You were shocked - you didn't realise how well he knew you because if he hadn't encouraged you to open yourself up to possibilities, you'd have shot it down so incredibly fast. Recording something, and hearing your voice back was the last thing you'd want to do. But, if he truly could keep things private, you were willing to try. And so, you agreed, telling him that if you hate it you're not doing it again, but that you'd give it a go at least once. Lucio smiled, and thanked you for trusting him, promising to make it worth your while. You truly hoped so, because if it wasn't you'd feel guilty for wasting his time.

When you both arrived at the studio, Lucio ushered everyone out of his recording studio. He didn't tell them anything, just that he has some business with you he needs to deal with alone. They all thought it was something dirty, so they let you be, and stayed far away from the room until the coast was clear from any presumed embarrassment they might experience. However, he had only the purest of intentions. Lucio gave you a sheet of paper, it looked like a script but he explained it was a love song he had worked on years ago. He never found the right voice for it, until he met you. He wanted you to sing it, and wanted to hear your voice shine through the words. Lucio kept the backing track a secret, promising to reveal it later when you actually went through it. As you skimmed through the words, you saw how loving and caring he truly was for feeling this way about someone, maybe even you. The song was sweet, and the thought of a lovesick version of Lucio writing this in his bedroom whilst pining for someone was adorable. You agreed, and slowly entered the dreaded studio with fear swelling in your heart. You had to keep going, and give this a try without backing out now. You couldn't do that to something Lucio had tried his hardest to make happen.

And so, you sang. Lucio reassured you the full way with the speaker, making sure to remind you that your voice is beautiful, no one else will hear the song unless you want them to, and that he's not judging just enjoying himself. You were lifted up finally, and felt more comfortable to speak than ever before. As the words drifted out of you, flowing like a river from your vocal chords into the microphone, your confidence continued to grow. You found yourself enjoying yourself, finally not overanalysing every aspect of your voice and simply soaking up the moment with Lucio mixing things up and working on it in your eyesight. He was your main motivation, and you powered through the song with an open mind and heart. You weren't afraid, at least until the song ended and you knew you'd have to listen to yourself speak. You couldn't entirely hear yourself with the headphones on while you were singing, but now you'd have to face yourself and hear the last thing you wanted to right now. It was torture internally, but from Lucio's face, you knew that it couldn't be that bad… Right…?

As you crept out of the studio, Lucio sprung out of his chair, enthusiastically telling you how amazing that was, how much he loved it and how excited he is for you to listen to it. You internalised your concerns, and watched as he sat back down, tapped his lap with his hand. You did what he prompted, placing yourself on his legs, with one of his hands slowly wrapping itself around you and holding your waist while the other set up the music. You mentally prepared as your nightmare was about to be revealed and thrown in your face. You would've been in a panicked state if the smile plastered on Lucio's face didn't bring you back to reality and keep your mind clear enough to enjoy the moment as much as you could. You watched as he hit play, and brought each side of the headphones to each of your ears.

The way your voice sounded was completely different to this mornings; maybe Lucio was right, was your main thought. As the song played, and your voice rang through your ears from the headset, your tears swelled again. Not from sadness this time, but from gender euphoria. Your voice sounded feminine, sweet like honeysuckle. You couldn't have imagined that was you singing, and at one point you thought Lucio had edited it to be a higher pitch. You could see on his screen that that wasn't the case, though. This was your voice. And for once, you were enjoying yourself and felt a newfound level of confidence. Was your gender dysphoria messing around with you again when you thought your voice was disgusting? Maybe so, but you couldn't think about that right now. It had hit you how thoughtful, kind and generous Lucio was being in this moment. His support for you, his love for you, it all shone through his actions and you were left with a warm feeling spreading through your body. You couldn't help but to cry more, and profusely apologise as much as you could. It was all too much, and your body couldn't handle the love it was receiving. It was genuine, pure and understanding. Your mind raced, and you found yourself being held tightly by Lucio as you sobbed. You couldn't help it, and he didn't mind a single bit.

“Do you see now why I always tell you your voice is like butter? When I hear you speak or sing, I feel closest to heaven. You shouldn't have to hide something so beautiful from people, let alone me. I'm always here to remind you, but I hope this proved my point to you, Y/N.” he whispered in your ear, holding you and kissing your shoulder blades between words. He knew exactly what to say, and it melted your heart even more. You turned around and embraced him fully, and he let you cry into his shoulder as much as you needed. All you could respond with was thank you; it's all that slipped between the cracks of your lips. You felt him rub your back, and whisper you're welcome with every grateful word you spoke. It filled your heart, and it's exactly what you needed for a day like this.

[taegularities]

rid, my lovie !! my sweets !!

🚨 : ( rant incoming )

some of these recent asks have been making me want to start throwing gang signs or sum 💀 i know there are always gonna be some of these asks given the vast audience you have, and that they are just drowning in anticipation.

however, the undertone? 😭 do these people realize that you are a prolific writer, churning out quality contents faster than locusts can reproduce and infest? 🤨 RELATIVELY SPOKEN !!

good contents take time to plan, produce and publish !!

REMEMBER THE TRIPLE P. for an author who doesn't even ask you to pay, and responds with kindness only.

so, let's learn and practice more kindness and respectfulness here. thank you. ( sorry, if i sound like a teacher's pet, but rid is just too good to us )

anyway, we are nonetheless excited for your next releases, and 'entertainer' even after all this time.

( rant end )

꒰ ❛ ❜ personal lil message ꒱ ‎

rid, am so sorry for not getting back to your last 'ruined' response. i thought you hadn't answered it yet !! and are you kidding me? a!oc is my babiest baby !! of course, i adore her a lot. i remember somebody saying she is like a 'sunny weekend after a wet weather' or something, but bit more condescending— made me wanna throw some gang signs again, tafaq 😫 had to overcompensate with my repeated 'ruin you' asks, but i promise i equally read and enjoy your other stories. even sent asks about them before ( just not in my 🎀🖇🩵 style, haha ) and i'm thankful for each of the sweet responses from you : every. single. time!!

oh, by the way, i came across this pin today : https://pin.it/2rY2xnZtj

kinda ruined!tae on wedding night coded? 'i missed this' x 'it's only been two days' x 'and? i miss you all the damn time' ❤️‍🔥 can i please just ask what's the duo's moodboard like? ik they are a v monetesque, pastoral, serene and the whole artists garden at giverny + the water lily pond + beach at saint adresse!based couple.

but if possible i still wanna see them more from your artistic mind, my love. thank you. xo.

last but not least, must i mention how proud i am of you bc of the whole gaza take and activism on this platform? 🍉 it might be a bare minimum for a reality so cruel, but it matters. thank you for using your resources, and for saying how you listen to certain artists less bc of their lack of voice on this issue. every act matters. let's stay strong and

—take care. 🎀🖇🩵

gang signs omg lol 😭 honestly, i'm so thankful for the audience and the excitement everybody brings! the tone was a little off, but as i said, i'm pretty sure they didn't mean it that way, so i'm like, not mad or anything hehe. i hope they enjoyed entertainer!! it's true, though, that i've been a bit slow this year, but we try our best in this corner of our world. but thank you so much for saying that 😭 i'm flattered you appreciate my existence here and are so kind <3

it's okay, love, no reason to apologise. a!oc was everyone's baby, like she's still one of my favourite ocs i've written!! it's beyond crazy that people still remember her and this story overall. lmao yeah someone said she feels like a wet weekend after a sunny vacation or something idk it was way out of line, but what can we do.. i laughed 🤣 THANK YOUUUU for dropping by, whether with your signed asks or in any other way ily ily!!!

plsss on their wedding night?

more like always 😂 but so true. their mood boarddd hmmm, wait i'll go and make one rq brb *5 minutes later* i'd say that's them 🥺 def some monet, rain and autumn vibes

and ofc!! i think i could do even more and share even more. every thought counts. i can't even remember saying i listen to artists less, but it's 100% true, and i also try to avoid big chains such as starbucks, which i think we all should. take care as well, love 🤍

[ghostykapi]

hi there :3 i really enjoy reading your works! can i request angsty with tzuyu? <3

mamser do u want me to cry

I wish I knew [you wanted me]

tzuyu & fem!reader // angst + fluff

no angst only for my beloved. i will cry

"when you said you had plans in mind" sana looked over at you, who was simply curled up in bed with blankets draped all over you "i didn't think that wallowing in sadness would be one of them"

here you were, a childhood friend of mintazoski sana and also one of twice's beloved friends, crying over the fact that you lost your chance at confessing to your crush, chou tzuyu.

"sana I love you but" you mumbled into the pushie dinasour that tzuyu got for you from a trip abroad "let me have this and cry over it like how I cry over my deadlines"

as much as she loves you, she wants to make a comment on how that happens at least bi-weekly, but decides that it's better to comfort you instead

"y/n/n" she sits down on your bed, letting her hand pat your head in comfort "it's simply not to late to confess you know"

"well it feels like it" you couldn't get rid of the image out of your head, the way tzuyu smiled at a person confessing to her and the way she giggled at their bashful attitude

you knew you could be overthinking it through, afterall it looked like she had politely rejected them. still, you weren't there to see till the end the moment. you looked away the moment your world dimmed and tried to focus yourself on sana's new story on how she lost another wallet again.

sana had always known of your crush on her member, yet she couldn't blame you, not when you had your spark back into your eyes when you figured it out. she had missed your burning flame and now that it's being drowned out by bad thoughts. even though it hurts, she has to see once more the light slip bit by bit from your eyes.

"you know" you look up at her, and sana swears she hears her heart break just bit on how tired and broken you looked "it's funny, I really thought she liked me too"

"why's you say so?" she asks you, wiping away the tears of your cheek

"it's like you and jihyo" you explain, your tears not stopping but that doesn't stop sana from continuously wiping them away "it's like how you look at her like she created heaven and how she looks at you like you're her star"

yes, sana and jihyo together as a couple. for as long as you knew jihyo from when you met her, it was a pleasant surprise to see her all sweet and loving to your childhood friend. it was, what you would like to call, an unexpected bloom of love.

"I thought" you don't hear your door slightly opening and hushed whispers quieting down "I saw her, even just for a bit, look at me like I was her everything and I didn't know what to feel. I didn't know if she noticed that because I saw her reflection in a mirror looking back at me like that and—i just— I don't know it was—"

you pause your rambling, seemingly scared to say anything after you cut of yourself, and yet sana sits right beside your curled up form, ready to listen to what you want to say out loud.

"it made me feel seen" your voice wavers a bit, the emotions and feelings of tonight finally making its true impact on you "it made me feel like even after all these years, I had a chance of love. even if they wouldn't approve of it back at home, then it wouldn't matter because she loved me enough to look at me like that"

you don't even register sana shifting positions to give you a hug, your tears damping her shoulder but she clings on. ready as ever to give you the comfort you deserve

"I don't know sana" you croak out, tired from all the crying already "I'm so scared that she won't notice me like how I notice her"

"trust me" sana pulls away and looks at you in the eyes and wipes your tears away "when I say that I've never seen anyone notice you like our tzuyu does"

that night you try to peacefully sleep with little success, even if sana had stayed beside you the whole night, sharing comfort and reassurance. it was painful to try and navigate your dreams too, seemingly giving you a miserable time even when you sleep.

so when you wake up, you were quite surprised to see tzuyu spooning you from behind instead of sana. her arms securely around you, as if to try and sheild you from everything that has hurt you.

you couldn't move for a while out of shock, and once you did move, you only moved to turn around and snuggle into her, your face in the crook of her neck and your arms wrapping around her waist.

"you're awake" tzuyu sleepily mumbles after a while, her arms tightening her hold around you to ensure that you get closer to her

you hum in reply, trying to get your heart to stop beating faster by the second and the butterflies in your stomach from exploding more.

"y'know, I always thought that you looked like an angel" she softly says, her fingers now playing with the tips of your hair "the prettiest one to ever set foot in my life"

"but when I saw this angel, look so broken last night, I didn't know what to do. why was my angel crying? then when sana unnie explained everything after cornering her down, I suddenly feel bad. I made my angel cry"

damnit sana

"and to hear that I was the cause of you crying I—" she stops herself before her voice had started to break "—i didn't know what to do"

you pull away from your embrace, only to find her eyes already ready to shed more tears. this had you fumbling to assure her, and to keep those tears from falling down

"it's not your fault" you give her a weak smile, your hands coming up to her face to stop the tears from falling "if anything, it's mine. I shouldn't have kept this from you for so long but I was scared, I didn't know what to do"

"I should have known" you can hear the frustration and pain in her voice "I should've seen in through your actions and your eyes"

"it's ok" you reassure her, as the tears damp your fingers but that doesn't matter. not when the person you love is hurting "it's ok, you didn't know and that's alright. I was the one who kept if from you for so long. it's alright even if you don't love me back—"

she doesn't let you even finish that sentence as she cuts you off with a kiss, destroying any negative thought you had last night about her liking anyone else. it feels like she's your heaven while she reaches for you, her star

when you pull away, your eyes are now filled with overwhelming emotions like her. you couldn't stop starting into those eyes, and you swear it's like before, where the love she has for you really shows

"I wished I knew you wanted me" tzuyu leans in for another kiss and you're not one to say no to her "because that meant that we would have been loving each other longer"

[rockybloo]

I'm kinda curious? Does nevermore like actually care about what happens to the people that live in lore after she takes over? What would change if nevermore succeed?

Is nevermore somewhat good?

Nevermore is THE main antagonist for Beanstalked and my favorite villain OC because she is comically evil but also horrifyingly evil. She drowned whatever good she used to be in the black ink she combined herself with.

She used to be a Fairy Godmother and they tend to be very maternal in nature, often wanting to take care of the less fortunate.

But Nevermore has been around for awhile, and has been driven to a level of boredom and frustration from her job that she has snapped and basically mutated her own self with her magic and ink into an eldritch abomination that has lost just about all the sympathy she had for the world.

She wants to erase Lore and be in charge of the new world she builds up so she never has to face those thousands of years of the same fairy tales looping over and over again with only subtle changes in plot. She basically wants to be GOD itself and that means she can make whatever she wants happen, including getting rid of happy endings and fairy tales in general.

And her plan basically means only the people who are working for her are gonna survive the finished product. Of course, she promised them happier lives and they certainly will get it. She's a woman of her word...when she feels like it. Everyone else that is against her are drowning in ink and being erased from existence.

It's very hard to say she genuinely cares for anyone. She's been around for so long that she doesn't have a problem detaching herself from any relationships. She'll say whatever she needs to to get people to do what she wants due to her highly manipulative nature. If you're funny and entertaining then yeah, she'll be much nicer to you.

She "likes" Jack but as a form of entertainment. Kind of like a mouse that you see pop up in your home and while it's not doing any damage right now, and is very cute, you know at some point you'll have to get rid of it. And the reason she likes him is because he's the son of the dude she led to his own death. So she's very curious about how he'll end up and if he'll surpass his father.

She comes off as friendly and comically mischievous but she is one of my most dangerous OCs because she is so charismatic that people don't even know how much danger they are in just by being in her presence.

[lifetimeshipper]

My Little Dancer

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Megatron/Megatronus x Arcee

~~~~~~

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~

Since this story will be doing a lot of back and forth between the past and present I will put  Xs before and after the parts that are memories of the past.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arcee's spark skips a pulse as the door opens and she walks into the room. She slowly approaches Megatron who is lying on the berth in Med Bay hooked up to a monitor to help him stay functioning. She knew he was still alive, she could feel it in the bond, the connection never broke. However, it's very faint since he is so close to death.

:: Arcee, what is it? :: Ratchet asks over the comm.

Arcee steadies herself as she looks over at Bumblebee in hopes that he couldn't tell that something was off with her. He doesn't seem to notice which relieves her and she gets on the comm to respond to Ratchet, "It's Megatron... He's alive." Arcee transforms her servo into her blaster as she tries to calm her spark which is pulsing so hard she feels like it's gonna jump right out of her chest.

:: Th-that's not possible! :: Ratchet responds in complete shock.

"Well, I'm staring right at him. Good news is, he's not staring back."

Arcee doesn't know if she should be happy or mad that he's still alive. This is her sparkmate, her old lover, but he's not the mech he was when they met and fell in love. He's now a warlord intent on creating destruction everywhere he goes and getting rid of the Autobots. Every so often she catches herself thinking back to when they met when he was the gladiator Megatronus and a good mech, and she wishes she could go back to that time when everything was good.

XXXXXX

Arcee checks her armor once more to make sure it looks nice before she runs out to get on stage with the other femmes. She works as a dancer, part of a dance group that goes all over Cybertron to perform at any building that would hire them. The group was led by an old mech and femme who went around taking young femmes and forcing them to be part of their dance group, and they had to do any dance that they were taught. If they refuse they wouldn't get any Energon.

Arcee has tried a number of times to escape and return to her parents but she always got caught, usually by one of the guards that were assigned to watch over them. It seems that there are only two ways to get away from them, offlining or being sold.

Acree gets on the stage with the other femmes and gets into position to begin. The others have grown accustomed to this lifestyle and some seem to be really enjoying this fame and having the mechs fight for their attention. They always get so giddy when a mech comes to talk to them and flirt with them after the show, but she would rather stay to herself as she makes a plan to escape.

The lights turn on to focus on them and they begin their dance routine, moving sexually as they strut around the stage before breaking out into a dance. That was when she first saw him, Megatronus, he was sitting with other gladiators drinking High-Grade and seeming to be celebrating. Probably celebrating that they were still alive. She doesn't get why they would willingly put their lives in danger to entertain other bots.

She turns her gaze away to look at the rest of the audience who are howling and saying inappropriate stuff, as usual, she just rolls her optics as she continues dancing. A few minutes later, she looks over at him again and sees him looking right at her, his optics roaming over her body as he seems to be ignoring his pals. She quickly looks away not liking the tenseness of his gaze. Why doesn't he look at the other femmes and watch them?

She could feel his gaze on her the whole time until the dance ended and she exited the stage, which made her feel uneasy. She quickly exited the stage with a few of the others while the other femmes stayed to drown themselves in the applause and compliments, once again taking in all the mechs that wanted to flirt with them and fight over them.

"Can you believe them? How can they stand this kind of attention?" One of the femmes asked as they headed to the back.

"They just like attention, they don't care who they get it from," one of the other femmes says.

"Well, I'm gonna go get some High-Grade Energon, I haven't had any in quite some time. Wanna come, Arcee?"

Arcee looks at them, "No, I'm fine."

One of the femmes walks over to her to whisper, "If you come up with a good escape plan let me know, I too would like to get back to my parents."

Arcee smiled at her and nodded, her spark went out to her. The other femmes began to leave but stopped when they saw the two leaders come to the back with the gladiators that were sitting out front. They all looked at them and they could guess why they were brought back here.

"The great gladiator, Megatronus, wishes to buy one of you," the old mech tells them.

Arcee looks at him and her spark quickens when she realizes it was the mech that was staring at her so intently while she was dancing. Primus, don't let it be her that he wants to buy. She turns to sneak away before he notices that she's there but she stops when she hears him speak.

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?"

She turns to look at him and sees him walking around the other femmes as he heads over to her, "What's your name?" He asks her.

Arcee remains silent, she doesn't want this, she doesn't want to be sold to a mech she doesn't know. She wants to go home to her parents. "With all due respect, Megatronus, you don't want to take this one," the old mech tells him, "She's very disobedient and she's a fighter, you would have a really hard time getting her to do as you say."

Megatronus chuckles, "She sounds very interesting and quite challenging. How much do you want for her?"

"The kind of femme she is I'll have to say, ten thousand creds."

"It's a deal," Megatronus says before getting on his datapad to send him the credits.

"Her name is Arcee and she's yours. It was a pleasure doing business with you," the old mech says before he walks away.

"Arcee..." Megatronus repeats as he takes her servo. He bends over to place a gentle kiss on it before looking up at her again, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my little dancer."

XXXXXX

Arcee is pulled back to the present by Bumblebee nudging her, "Are you okay?"

Arcee looks at him, "Just fine."

:: Arcee, does Megatron display brainwave activity? :: Ratchet asks over the comm.

Arcee looks over at the monitor, "Spiking hard. His sick mind is still at work."

:: Perfect, if a cure exists Megatron may be the only one who knows it. You must enter his brain and find it. ::

Arcee pauses for a moment to think about this. Doing a mind and body split is risky but they need to find a cure for Optimus. She wishes that she could just read his mind through the bond and find it, but Megatron seems to have blocked off a lot of stuff from their bond so she can't see it. Also, she would have had to come up with an explanation of how she was able to find it to keep Bulkhead and Bumblebee from finding out about her bond with the warlord. Optimus and Ratchet already know but they've been keeping it secret from the others.

Bumblebee was getting ready to volunteer to go in when Arcee spoke up, "I'll do it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Chapter

[silverwings22]

Song of the Sea: Chapter 30: House Won't Fall

Chapter Warnings: reference to genocide, political corruption, questionable dietary habits, explicit smut Series Warning: explicit smut, alien anatomy (it's a monsterfucker fic, guys), major character injury, grief, canon typical violence, autistic meltdowns, and my terrible attempts at Mando'a

Previous Chapter:

Next Chapter:

Shiani sat at the work table, Echo’s scomp arm opened as she worked on a few adjustments. It had become the ultimate expression of trust from the cyborg, letting her fix his hand for her. When she’d first joined the Batch, he hadn’t been thrilled about her even watching Tech work on it. Now he asked her first, while Tech was in the cockpit. 

Omega was sitting on the steps in front of her room, legs crossed and hands open on her knees. “She’s really getting the hang of meditating.” 

Shiani nodded, adjusting another servo for him. “She ask you to join her?”

“She did, before I came looking for you. I’ll have to pass on that.” 

“Don’t like meditation?” Shiani glanced up at the corporal’s pale face. She worried about him sometimes, even though he’d put on muscle since joining the Batch. She recalled how exhausted he’d seemed when she first saw him though the glass on Kamino, a tired Chainbreaker barely holding himself upright. Now he was every bit the competent warrior she knew he must have been before his torture on Skako Minor. Still, she felt the scars no one could see that lingered deep in his spirit. And that was saying something, considering most of his physical scars were on display.

“I don’t prefer solitude. I had enough of that on Skako. If not for this squad, I might still be there… that’s why I stayed with them. It’s where I fit at the time.” He glanced at her thoughtfully. “You don't much like being alone either.”

“No. Had enough of it in exile.” She agreed. “Baby Mega asks me to meditate with her too, but I don't. Sirens aren't meant for quiet.”

Echo chuckled. “Is that why you fell for Tech? He's the most talkative clone I've ever known.”

Shiani laughed. “One reason out of many.” She closed the port on his arm. “All fixed.”

“Thanks.” He spun the scomp with a critical eye before nodding. 

“Echo, how come you never got a prosthetic arm? It's got to be difficult to do things with one hand.”

“It is, but the scomp was too useful to get rid of.” He shrugged. “With all this metal and machinery, I might as well be useful.”

“You can build a scomp into a prosthetic. I could make it pop out of your wrist or fingertip. With those cybernetics, you'd be an ideal candidate for all kinds of delicate instruments.” She pointed out.

“You could do that? Why didn't Tech mention it when I first got here?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Tech is a genius who does best with novelty. He invents new things, or makes plans for possibilities that might never happen.” She scrunched her face at the 100 plans she'd memorized with Omega since she'd joined them. Some sounded interesting… some scared her. “This doesn't need new ways for things, just someone to put things together. That's what I'm good at.”

Echo leaned over curiously. “And how would you put it together, if you were going to do it?”

Shiani pulled out her datapad. “Cybernetic connections here with pressure sensors so you could tell how hard you press. I can't replicate full sensation, but it would be something. Scomp loaded into the wrist, comes out like this so you just bend your hand out of the way. Tactical knife in the back of the hand, combines pretty well with a punch… maybe a place for datastick? Removable, though. You don't need all that stuff crowding up your brain.” She sketched out a rough outline for him. 

“...  how fast could you make this?” He looked at it, eyes wide.

“Just a couple hours to get a prototype done. It might need tweaks, but we won't know until you use it.” She smiled slyly. “I'd only need a few measurements from you.”

“Measure away. This sounds great.” Echo laid both arms on the table and raised his voice so Tech could hear him from the cockpit. “Tech, you're the dumber half of your marriage.”

“Don’t say that!” Shaini swatted him gently with a tape measure as she started writing down measurements of his real arm. 

“Did I do something that displeased you?” Tech called back. 

“Echo is being dramatic. I’m aking him a new arm, Tech.” Shiani answered. 

There was a pause from the cockpit before Tech had set the autopilot and was coming to look. Echo looked smug as Shiani marked her measurements and Tech looked over her draft. “I like her better than you today, vod.”

“I like Shiani better than you every day. Consider us even.” Tech snipped back, but there was no real venom in it. Everyone knew Tech loved Echo. Tech loved all his siblings… even Crosshair. “This is… very clever, Shiani. I am impressed.” He put a hand on her shoulder as he gave her back her datapad. 

Squeeze squeeze squeeze. 

She beamed with delight and went to get her toolkit. She loved when he was proud of her. 

She was just getting her protective glasses on when the ships comm went off. “We are receiving a transmission from Rex.” Tech called back to Hunter. 

“Put him through.” The sergeant ordered, walking up to talk to the captain. Shiani decided to stay out of the way and just listen while she worked on the arm. 

“Hey there, boys. Any chance I could borrow your expertise for a mission?”

“What kind of mission?” Hunter sounded a little suspicious, but Shiani wasn't surprised. He was so protective of Omega and cautious of the rest of the squad being in any danger. He was a big brother to the core, with responsibility laid so heavy on his shoulders it might break him if he didn't take care. Luckily, all of the squad members were attentive enough to take the load off him when they could. 

“It's just a data extraction, but it's crucial. I can explain more on Coruscant.”

“Coruscant? That's a tall ask.” Hunter said immediately.

Omega, who'd overheard the comm coming in, snuck over to Shiani at the worktable. “What's on Coruscant?”

“The Republic Senate used to be.” Shiani whispered back. “I guess the Empire is there now, where the Republic used to be.”

 Omega frowned. “Why would Rex be there?”

The siren glanced over at where she could see Hunter's stiff shoulders. “Rex wanted us to come join him fighting the Empire. He asked on Bracca. Hunter said no, so you could have a good life… but Rex is fighting for all the clones with chips, still slaves to the Empire.”

Omega frowned, inching towards Hunter. “I think we should help.” She said softly. Shiani could only admire how brave that girl was, putting her own safety and well-being on the back burner to save brothers she'd never even met.

Hunter sighed. “... how crucial is this data, Rex?”

“It could be life or death for clones across the galaxy. I can get you a flight path avoiding Imperial security, and a safe landing zone.”

Echo looked eager, especially with Omega on his side. Shiani looked down at  the prosthetic components in front of her.  A sad, achy feeling arched through her gills as she realized she'd be remote testing this prototype… Echo wanted to fight too much. He wouldn't be leaving Coruscant with them. She'd have to tweak the arm when he came to visit… if he did. Tech was going to be hurt again, losing another brother to the Empire. This time as its enemy, but that would be only cold comfort.

Better work out the bugs on the first try, then. 

When the Marauder touched down in a private garage Rex had given them, the captain was waiting for them. Next to him was a pretty blue-skinned woman dressed in pink, who looked like the weight of the galaxy sat on her shoulders. 

“Good to see you guys. Senator, this is the squad I was telling you about. Guys, this is Senator Chuchi. She's with us on this.”

The men saluted more as a force of habit than anything else. Shiani held a hand out to the Senator. “Nice to meet you.” 

Chuchi looked a little nervously at Shiani’s claws, but shook her hand. “Likewise, and thank you for coming. I'm Riyo”

“Shiani Illumai.” The siren said softly. 

“I've seen her take down a grown dianoga.” Rex assured the Pantoran. “She's Tech's girlfriend.”

“Wife now.” Tech said mildly. “While I would enjoy telling the story, you said this was a matter of life and death?”

Rex nodded. “Come inside. There's something I want you to see.”

They slipped into the garage, where a table sat with a body bag on top of it. Shiani balked at the faint scent of death, pushing Omega back slightly. “Dead?”

Rex nodded, unzipping the bag. Instead of an Imperial, they were all presented with a clone's face. “He was an assassin.” Rex explained. “I went to meet a brother named Slip, but the assassin got to him first. He almost got the Senator here, too.”

“This doesn't make any sense.” Echo looked sick. “Why would a clone kill one of our own?”

“Slip knew what really happened on Kamino. I was trying to convince him to testify against Vice-Admiral Rampart in front of the senate. He's pushing his recruitment bill tomorrow.” Chuchi explained. “If it passes, the clones will ask be completely abandoned by the Empire. They're already being phased out, and I fear they'll be decommissioned completely  once there is a new army in place.”

“We were there. I could testify.” Echo offered. 

Hunter shook his head. “We're deserters, they'll never listen to us.”

“I'm not.” Shiani murmured. “I could testify…”

“You are a princess, so you would have legal standing and your voice would carry weight.” Tech reached for her hand. “But it would reveal the sirens to the rest of the galaxy.”

Her jaw trembled, but she nodded. “But it will save clones. Decommissioned means killed…”

Everyone else looked at her. “... you're a princess?” Omega whispered. 

“I’m most proud to be a Batcher. Princess is less important.” Shiani said firmly before looking at Chuchi. “You’ll need more than my word as proof.”

Chuchi nodded. “Slip said that he backed up the logs on Rampart's Venator.”

“It's being retrofitted in an Imperial shipyard here on Coruscant.” Rex confirmed. “If we move quickly, we can get it in front of the senate before the vote.”

“I'll go back to the senate and get as much evidence as I can.” Chuchi nodded. “I'll have to get you clearance, Princess.”

“I can take care of that, for her and Omega.” Tech assured them all. “It would be more practical for Omega to go with Shiani than into a shipyard.”

Hunter nodded. “We'll get into the Venator and copy the data, then get it to you before the vote. Shiani can address the senate, and stall if we need her to.” 

Shiani turned and put her face in Tech's chest. “Be careful.” She whispered. 

“I will do my best.” He took both her hands in his and held them gently. Squeeze squeeze squeeze. “You will be brilliant in front of the senate. I know you will.”

Shiani nodded, swallowing hard as she tried to get her mind right. “For you.”

 Omega was wearing Chuchi's cloak, and Shiani had been changed into a spare outfit the Senator kept in her office. It was a white, loose-sleeved dress with gold accents, blessedly open on the sides to allow for her tentacles, with a gold belt and deep blue cloak. She'd even quickly taken Shiani's ponytail up into a careful bun. “If only we had something to really make you look like a princess.”  the Senator murmured as she dabbed a little bit of makeup on Shiani's face. Despite her previous insistence on Ord Mantell that she wasn't suited to cosmetics, a dab of lipstick was nice looking. Shiani didn’t like it, but that may have been the gnawing feeling in her chest that what Chuchi was doing wasn’t trying to make her look royal. It was to make her look tame. To prove to the galaxy that would soon be looking at her that she wasn’t a creature to be feared. In a galaxy full of things like Wookiees and Trandoshans, Hutts and togrutas… she was the unknown who had to be carefully monitored. It didn’t seem fair that she was going to be viewed with suspicion when her biggest crime was the way her mouth was shaped.

“Baby Mega. Hand me my bag?” Shiani murmured. Omega, who'd been kicking her feet in the desk chair, got up and scooped Shiani's gear bag from the floor. 

“Why is this so heavy?” Omega blinked. 

“My tools. And an arm.” Shiani hoisted the bag from her smaller friend's hands and started digging through it. 

“An arm?” Chuchi looked concerned, inching back away from the siren's teeth. 

“Metal, Senator. I swore off eating sentient species.” Shiani said calmly. 

“Did you used to?” Omega squeaked. 

“We'll talk about it later.” Shiani pulled out a package wrapped in a greenish-gold cloth and set the bag back down, pulling out a circlet of coral and polished stone. “Haven't worn this in a long time.” She hadn't even thought about the crown she'd been wearing when she'd fled her home years ago, more concerned with her chains than her station. “How does this look?”

Chuchi smiled as Shiani put it on. “That's more like it. A proper royal…”

Shiani closed her eyes. No, she certainly wasn't. A proper royal siren would be nowhere near the surface, about to reveal her people's existence to the entire galaxy. They'd likely curse her name for generations, but the Empire was going to find them anyway. She felt it in her gills. If she pulled away the curtain and secrecy in front of everyone, her hope was that there were more good than evil people in the galaxy. That people like Chuchi would step up to help the sirens the way she did the clones. “Okay then.”

“Come with me. I'll show you both the Senate Chamber. It can be a little overwhelming the first time, and I don't want you to freeze up.” Chuchi told her. “It's intimidating, even for experienced Senators.” Shiani slipped her bag on her shoulder, hidden under her cloak, and nodded as she followed the Pantoran to the door.

Omega looked up from between Chuchi and Shiani as they stepped out of the office and started down the hall. “What do Senators actually do?”

Chuchi smiled. “We vote in the interest of our people. We're their voice in the senate, and the senate makes laws.”

“It's supposed to.” Shiani murmured. “Not with the Emperor around.”

Chuchi deflated a bit. “That's true…”

“What's the difference between a Senator and a royal?” Omega frowned. 

Shiani hesitated for a moment. “Royals lead by their own hearts. Senator follows the hearts of the people.”

Chuchi nodded agreeably. Omega just frowned further. “Which one is better?”

“That depends on the leader.” Chuchi looked up. “Oh no. There's Rampart… let me handle this.”

Both of them nodded and Shiani subtly slipped her circlet off and held it behind her back. Rampart had a smug, arrogant face that she could only mentally describe as punchable. Selfishness rolled off him in waves. “Hello there, Senator. You're here late.” He smiled, but it felt fake. 

“Just preparing for the vote tomorrow.” Chuchi nodded, plastering a fake smile on her face. Omega stayed behind Shiani, though her nose scrunched the same way Tech’s did when he was displeased. Shiani put a hand on her shoulder, catching Rampart's attention. 

“I don't believe we've met, ma'am. My apologies for not introducing myself immediately. I am Admiral Edmon Rampart.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it like he was at a gala instead of a hallway. He didn’t look wary of her, but he did have an almost predatory look in his eyes as he examined her. He didn’t see a siren, just a nicely dressed young woman he thought he could manipulate.

Shiani dipped her head politely, barely opening her mouth to speak. “I am Shiani Illumai, and this young lady is my aide. I am a contemporary of Senator Chuchi. I've asked to observe the vote tomorrow.” She kept her voice as gentle and guileless as she could. 

“You're in for a spectacular show then, Miss Illumai. We'll have to sit down and chat sometime. I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry right now, though.” He smiled. 

Shiani pulled her fingers from his grip. “Have a nice night, Admiral.”

He nodded and headed down the hallway, Shiani's eyes following him until long after he'd turned the corner. Omega tugged on her arm when she turned around and put her crown back on. “How come you hid that?” 

“If he knows I'm royal, he'll ask where I'm from. If he knows I'm from Kamino, he'll know I'm against him.” Shiani said firmly. “It makes us a target. Never let your enemy know what you're planning, Baby Mega. Especially with stakes so high.” 

Omega watched her funny, lively friend, slowly seeing Shiani in a new light. There had always been an undercurrent of sadness in Shiani's joy, a viciousness hidden behind her laughter that came out as surely as the blue rings peppering her purple skin when she got angry. But Omega hadn't expected a competent, level headed leader from the girl who'd always said all she wanted was to follow Tech. 

Chuchi just nodded and led them into the senate chamber. It was, indeed, an intimidating room full of little hoverpods. There were a few that were occupied, listening to preparation speeches for the next day vote. “Every pod is for a planet’s Senators or groups representative.” Chuchi explained. “Almost every race and planet are represented here, and get a vote.”

“Is there one for the clones?” Omega looked up at the rows and rows of pods. 

Chuchi shook her head. “No… a lot of people view the clones as military assets. But that's what I'm working on. I want the clones to have the same rights as every citizen, and someone to look after their best interests.”

Shiani looked balefully around the room. “Not so much has changed in three hundred years. Instead of sirens being only tools to long necks, clones are only tools to the Republic. Long necks see Kamino flood. Republic sees itself become the Empire.”

“We can change things, from here in this room.” Chuchi put a hand on her arm. 

Shiani wanted to believe it, but she kept looking at the pods and seeing a not- so-different council room under the ocean of her home world, where the royal court accused her of every treason known to her kind before she was banished. Like those sirens, almost every pod in this room would contain someone who thought her marriage was invalid. That the man she loved wasn't a person at all. In this chamber, however, she’d have to prove she was a person too. 

She straightened her spine. “We fight. Clones deserve that.”

Chuchi nodded, looking over as a blue and white astromech rolled to her. “... how well can you two keep a secret?”

Omega grinned. “I can.”

Shiani just pushed her shoulders back. “My whole species was declared extinct three hundred years ago. Until today we were the best secret-keepers in the galaxy.”

Chuchi nodded. “Come with me.” 

They slipped out into the hallway, and met up with a tall man with dark hair and kind eyes. “Riyo. I didn’t expect you to have company.”

“They’re helping me with the clone aid provisions.” Chuchi explained. “This is Princess Illumai of Kamino and Omega. Shiani, Omega, this is Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan.” 

He smiled at the two of them, only slightly surprised by Shiani’s appearance. “You have a vested interest in clone’s rights, Princess?” 

“I’m married to a clone.” Shiani said calmly. “We were called to help by Captain Rex, after he saved Senator Chuchi.”

Bail looked at the Pantoran. “Captain Rex is listed as killed in action… and what does she mean ‘saved’?”

“I was almost assassinated while trying to meet with a clone who knew that Rampart was responsible for what happened to Kamino. The assassin killed my contact, but Rex saved me.” Chuchi explained. 

“Rampart is resourceful, isn't he?” Bail murmured. “You’re lucky to be alive, Riyo.”

“I know. And I owe my life to a clone, so I have to help them.” Chuchi nodded. 

“My husband and his squad are getting proof Rampart ordered the bombardment.” Shiani put her hands together quietly. “And I will testify tomorrow.”

Bail nodded. “Brave of you, miss. There will be doubts, you understand, about you. No one has ever seen any of your species before and there’s no one to confirm your royal status.” 

Shiani frowned. “... might not be entirely true. Long necks keep records of what they did… Someone high enough up may have known about us.”

“The Prime Minister of Kamino was arrested.” Chuchi frowned. 

“Senator Halle Burtoni, however, was not.” Bail pointed out. “Though her cooperation may not be forthcoming. She was a member of the Defense Finance Committee, until she was removed from office. She had a vested interest in viewing clones as no more than assets.” 

“Not surprising for long necks.” Shiani muttered coldly, looking at Chuchi. “I’m going to have to talk to her, aren’t I?”

“It would lend us credibility.” Chuchi sighed. “Come on, we’ll go to my apartment and invite her to meet us.”

Shiani sighed. “I spend my whole life avoiding long necks, just to get stuck inviting one to visit….” 

Bail patted her hand lightly. “Follow the money, Princess. It always leaves a trail.”

Shiani stood at the window of Chuchi’s senatorial apartment, looking out at the city lights as the guards waited for Halle Burtoni to arrive. She’d imagined Coruscant a million times, and the romantically soft glow in front of her was not a view to disappoint. Still, she hadn’t imagined she’d be looking at it without Tech… 

“You okay, Shiani?” Omega walked over, watching the siren’s claws tapping at the windowsill mindlessly. “You look anxious.”

“I am anxious.” Shiani nodded. “Longnecks are why my people stay at the bottom of the ocean. Why we live in the dark, without starlight… we could have been a part of this Senate hundreds of years ago if we hadn’t been enslaved… I was always told to be scared of them.” She let Omega take her hand, steadying herself. “But all their cities were destroyed. Not just Tipoca. Millions of people were killed. I thought it would feel… Thought I might be happy, but I’m not. Just feels hollow and sad. Nobody deserves that, even longnecks.” 

Omega snuggled to her side. “I’m glad you don’t think so.” 

“I still don’t think this long neck is going to be much help, though. I don’t trust their honor.” Shiani muttered, running her tongue over her fangs. 

Chuchi patted her arm. “We have to try.”

Shiani turned her head as the guards opened the door to reveal an older, shaky-necked Kaminoan female. The long neck had a sneer almost permanently painted into her voice when she looked at Chuchi. “Are the guards really necessary?”

“They are as much for your safety as ours.” Chuchi said firmly. “Please sit, Senator Burtoni.”

Burtoni looked around, eying Omega and looking Shiani up and down with a surprised expression before sitting in a high backed chair and clasping her hands in her lap. “What do you want?”

“I have questions about the Senate funds that were earmarked for cloning operations on Kamino. What was earmarked is less than what was reported as received, prior to the destruction of the cities.”

“Funds were siphoned off for months before the fall of Kamino.” Burtoni said sourly. “I didn’t take you for a fool, Chuchi, but you should know the danger of prying into matters kept secret. Too many people end up dead for sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

Chuchi glanced at Shiani, who looked unimpressed but was repressing her “I told you so” in favor of a silent disapproval. The Pantoran looked back at her former colleague. “Think of your people who survived. Finding out where that money went could be the start of helping them.”

“My people are gone. What remains scattered around the galaxy, I have no concern for.” Burtoni huffed, shaking her head. 

Shiani’s eyes sharpened. “You don’t even care about your own people? No wonder the Empire didn’t hesitate to destroy your cities, if you don’t love your own.”

Burtoni sneered at her. “You aren’t Kaminoan, why would you care?”

Shiani leaned back, opening her hands and letting her tentacles come up and spread around her in a display that made her look both beautiful and dangerous. “My people have temples with your likeness on them. I bet yours did too, before the flood. I’m just as Kaminoan as you, longneck.” 

Burtoni’s eyes widened in something akin to both fear and awe. “You’re supposed to be extinct…” 

“You thought you drowned a race with gills? Not so smart.” Shiani sneered, dropping her limbs and showing her teeth. “And still, I care more about what happened to Kamino than you. Omega and I saw the Empire destroy Tipoca City from Venator ships, and your people became the ones to drown instead.” 

“Why would a child be involved with you?” The way Burtoni said it, Shiani heard the superiority. Three hundred years and a longneck still thought herself superior, even though her people sank to the bottom and died where Shiani’s had survived and rebuilt. 

“I’m a clone, and Kamino was my home too. The Empire destroyed it!” Omega pushed forward, eyes wide and furious. “It wasn’t right! There was no reason for it.”

“I knew it was coming. Prime Minister Lama Su was an arrogant pawn, secure in his belief that the clones made Kamino indispensable. That the clones were necessary. They weren’t. None of us are.” Burtoni shook her head, looking back at Shiani. “You should have stayed hidden, siren.” 

“And let cowards win? Let bombs drop on my home planet, while the Empire kills innocent clones it has no further use for?” She snapped her teeth together sharply. “I care more about the clones you made than you do. You should be ashamed, Senator. Three peoples come from Kamino; siren, longneck, and clone. When are you going to stand up for any of them?”

“Just tell us who diverted the funds, Burtoni.” Chuchi pleaded. “We can do something about this. We can seek justice.”

“You already know who stole them.” Burtoni shook her head. “Of course it was him. He planned the attack on Kamino meticulously.” 

“Testify.” Shiani said quietly. “About the funds, and confirm you know what I am. You have access to Kaminoan history files, yes? You’ve hidden your people’s crimes against mine, but you can tell the truth.” 

Burtoni pursed her lips. “You want me to embarrass the legacy of my murdered people? My words won’t even matter without proof against Rampart.”

“Tell the truth about three hundred years ago, and get justice for your people.” Shiani rapped her claws against the arm of Burtoni’s chair, centimeters from the long neck’s arm. “We’ll find proof. You and I give our words to the Senate, as justice for our planet. You help me protect the clones, before the Empire throws them away.” She looked at Omega. “You look at her. Tell me that is not a person, and I’ll show you a liar with a mirror.” 

Burtoni glanced at Omega, then Chuchi, who just nodded. “We need proof, and your word. We’re running out of time.”

Shiani stood in the box with Chuchi and Burtoni as the Senate meeting started. Omega was waiting with one of her guards in a skycar at the drop zone, and not having the little girl there was stressing the siren out. Her foot tapped anxiously as she tried not to bounce and swing her limbs like a holo-game idle animation. She was supposed to look dignified. 

“Are you ready?” Chuchi murmured as Rampart started talking about no longer delaying the vote. “We’re going to have to start without those logs.”

Shiani nodded. “They’ll be here. Tech never lets me down.” Shiani nodded and tried to settle her breathing.. 

Burtoni eyed her. “Who is Tech?”

“My husband. And a clone.” Shiani said firmly. 

Chuchi turned on her mic to get started, cutting Rampart off. “We cannot trust Admiral Rampart’s assertions that the clone provisions will be addressed. He has given us reason not to trust him.” She moved the pod to the middle of the podium, putting them front and center with their faces appearing on the large holos and every new station in the Republic. Shiani tried not to crumple under the scrutiny of thousands of eyes, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable recognition was after years in solitude. She wanted to fade into obscurity as the exile from the trash pile, but she had to be Princess for this. It had been so long since she’d wielded any authority it felt like learning a new language again. 

“What reason is that, Senator?” Rampart eyed Chuchi before looking at Shiani again. “Miss Illumai?”

Shiani narrowed her eyes, swallowing her fear in favor of the taste of righteous fury.. “Halle Burtoni is willing to testify that you diverted funds from Kaminoan cloning programs.”

“Halle Burtoni is a disgraced senator, miss. And those funds were redistributed, though I am not at liberty to discuss classified military operations.”

The little siren didn’t back down. “You started siphoning those credits months before the destruction of Kamino. Because you planned for it, when you ordered three Venator class ships to fire on Tipoca City, and then to destroy every other major city on Kamino!”

Rampart flushed, fists clenching. “Those are heavy accusations, ma’am. Who do you think you are?”

“Princess Shiani Illumai, of Kamino. I was there, at Tipoca City, when the Empire destroyed it.” She turned and faced the rest of the Senate. “Senator Burtoni can also testify to my species existence and persecution on Kamino, which is why we have remained isolationist for as long as we have.”

It sounded good, sounded like something Tech would say. Isolationist sounded like policy and not a race living in fear at the bottom of the sea, revealed by one former exile who was either braver or stupider than the rest of them. One little star sailor standing defiantly in the face of the Tidedreamer’s shadow; the Empire. 

Burtoni nodded, and the whispers around the Senate chamber were loud and obvious. Rampart stared at her, looking horrified for a moment as he tried to figure out how to save his own skin. “Your accusations are baseless. I did nothing of the sort.” He finally gasped. 

“You lie. I was there.” She repeated, raising her fist in the air and demanding to be acknowledged. “I saw the Imperial ships firing on the city. A city that nearly all the clones and long necks had already been evacuated from. The attack was planned, to lose as few Imperial resources as possible.” 

The whispering grew louder. “What proof do you have, besides this woman’s statement?” Someone in another box demanded of Chuchi, who squirmed. 

“She has none, because there is none.” Rampart waved his arm. “She’s simply bribed or manipulated this young woman into lying for her. Let’s get on with the vote.”

Another voice in the pods above them rang out. “Senator Chuchi should be removed from the Senate and censured form misconduct! This is an outrage. Investigate the woman with her as well, and Burtoni!”

Chuchi put a hand on Shiani’s arm when she bit back a hiss. “Don’t.” She whispered softly. “Stay calm. They’ll react poorly.” 

Shiani nodded, swallowing hard as another voice seconded removing them and tucking her tentacles under the edge of her cloak to hide the blue rings pulsing furiously. Her comm blinked, and she looked up just in time to see little Omega’s blonde head running to Bail Organa. She smiled, eyes brightening, and tapped Chuchi. “Told you Tech wouldn’t let us down. Here comes proof.”

Organa’s box moved to be even with them, handing over a package. “This is your proof!” Chuchi called. “This is the command log from Rampart’s Venator.” 

Everyone went dead silent as she played the recording, unmistakably Rampart’s voice ordering the bombardment and snapping at a clone for questioning him. Rampart stood stock still, eyes wide, and looking at Chuchi in sickened shock. Shiani lifted her voice and looked around the Senate. “Believe me now?”

Before anyone could say much, a platform lifted up from beneath them. Shaini looked over the edge as it rose, a nauseated feeling in her gills when she was suddenly facing a man in a black cloak being guarded by his vizier. “Emperor Palpatine.” Chuchi whispered softly to Shiani. “He hasn’t been in session for weeks…”

The siren had been so stalwart in her pursuit of justice this far, wearing Burtoni down and refusing to back off Rampart… but the Emperor scared her. She clutched the edge of the pod railing like it might vanish under her feet, utterly petrified as he ascended above them to address the entire room. 

“I commend Senator Chuchi and Princess Illumai for their bravery in the pursuit of truth. Admiral’s cowardly actions in the pursuit of his own selfish goals will not be tolerated, and hold no place in a civilized society.” The Emperor’s voice was gravelly and serpentine, shuddering up the siren’s spine. 

Rampart paled. “I was following orders! I was following-” He couldn’t finish before several shock troopers had boarded his pod and were forcing him to bend over the controls so they could cuff him roughly. Shiani winced as he was dragged away, screaming but unintelligible as his mic was cut. 

The Emperor looked down at Chuchi’s pod. “I must thank you both for exposing a rogue element in our midst. Rampart will be punished for his treachery, but he did not act alone. It concerns me deeply that the clones under his command followed such orders blindly. That is why the Defense Recruitment Bill must go forward. The atrocities committed upon Kamino are proof that the clones cannot be trusted to identify unlawful orders. We must have a military comprised of citizens. This new era of peace and stability will be heralded by the Imperial stormtrooper!”

Shiani wanted to scream, looking around as the voting began without much further prompting. “...The clones are not to blame.” She whispered to Chuchi desperately. “Clones couldn’t disobey. Inhibitor chips…” 

Chuchi patted her arm, looking as desolate as she felt. “We tried, Shiani.” 

The siren looked up, watching senators vote one by one. She’d tried… she’d put herself out in front of a galaxy she barely understood. She’d stood up against the shadow. She’d revealed her people’s existence in front of the Emperor himself in a desperate bid to save the clones who meant so much to her…

And it had all been for nothing.

The Batch was already in front of the garage, chatting with Rex, when Chuchi brought Omega and Shiani back. Omega looked deflated, tucked up against the siren’s side, as they came to a stop. “I can’t believe we still lost.” She said softly.

Shiani petted her hair before getting out of the car and offering her a hand. “We tried our best, Baby Mega. We did everything we could.” 

Omega nodded and went over to Hunter, scrubbing at her eyes. “What’s the matter?” The sergeant frowned, kneeling next to her. 

“We lost the vote.” Omega whispered. “I don’t understand. We did the right thing, we told the truth.”

“And the Emperor twisted it to his advantage.” Hunter did his best to comfort her.

Rex sighed. “Palpatine was a step ahead of us all through the war, and he’s several steps ahead of us now. He used us implicating Rampart to push the stormtrooper program.”

“The fate of the clones is sealed, and he used us to do it.” Echo said regretfully. 

Shiani’s eyes hadn’t lifted from the ground, as Chuchi anxiously promised Omega she’d keep fighting to protect the clones. When a pair of boots stopped in front of her, she finally looked up at Tech, who was looking at her with concern in his eyes. “Are you alright, dear?” He murmured. 

“It didn’t help.” She breathed. “Clones are still in danger. Maybe in more danger now. Sirens too. I’m sorry.”

“You did the right thing, cyar’ika.” He reached up, cupping her round little face in both hands. “You did everything you possibly could. Do not apologize, you are not to blame.” 

She swallowed hard. “I need to give Chuchi back her dress…”

“You can keep it, Princess. It looks nice on you.” Chuchi smiled faintly. “And who knows? I’m going to keep fighting, until the clones have the same rights as everyone else. Maybe we’ll need to fight together in the senate again.” 

Shiani nodded faintly, putting her hands over Tech’s on her face. She didn’t feel like she deserved the comfort, right now. “I've got to give Echo something.” 

Tech nodded, slowly lowering his hands to let her get to her bag. Omega frowned. “You can give it to him on the ship. What’s the hurry?”

Echo crouched in front of her. “I won’t be going with you, Omega. I’ve decided to stay with Rex, and help the fight here. The other clones need our help more than ever, and I can’t give up on them.”

Omega’s eyes once again watered up, and everyone looked away before her tears undid their resolve and they begged Echo to stay too. “But we’re a squad!”

“I know. But I have to go where I’m needed.” Echo tried his best to keep his face impassive, but he loved this kid so much it was hard. If the rest of the clones hadn’t needed him, he’d have been happy to stay and watch her grow up forever. Duty came first, but damn it was hard.

“But we need you.” She whispered

“It’s not forever, Omega.” Echo murmured. “I’ll be back, but until then you have to keep up with your training. Deal?”

Omega sniffled. “Yes sir…” She threw her arms around him so hard she almost knocked him to the ground, but he managed to stay upright and hug her back tightly. 

Shiani walked over, gently scooping Omega up with two of her tentacles and hugging her to her hip. Omega squished tearfully against the siren as she held out a silver cybernetic arm. “Finished this for you, Echo. Keep notes of any issues, and I’ll fix it when you come back?” 

Echo blinked at the arm, then nodded, taking off his pauldron and adjusting his sleeve so she could take the scomp off and attach the new arm. She was careful, getting everything hooked up quickly for him and showing him how to use the knife and scomp attachments. “Thanks Shiani… I really appreciate it.”

She nodded. “I’m going to miss you.” 

“I’ll miss you too, But I’ll be back.” He tipped her chin up with his new fingers, smiling. “You and Omega look after them for me?”

Shiani nodded. “You look after Rex.”

Echo nodded, and stepped back as the group boarded the Havoc Marauder and gave him a final goodbye. It was bittersweet, but the right thing to do. That seemed to be the theme of the day.

Shiani had been in the fresher for what seemed like hours. Wrecker had fallen asleep in Omega’s room with her, cuddling her while she cuddled Lula. Hunter was out cold in the bunkroom, the stress of the mission and the assault on his senses from Coruscant having taken its toll on him. Tech had been flying, waiting for his favorite copilot to come sit with him. 

He’d watched her testimony recording, her face all over the holonet. The danger was great, but her little fist was in the air and her eyes were bright. She must have been frightened, but she’d stood her ground. She’d demanded they listen to her, head held high and dressed for the role she’d been born into. She was always beautiful, but in that moment he’d never seen her shine brighter. So when he’d rewatched the clip a few times and realized the water wasn’t running, he set the autopilot and got up to look for her. 

Her bag was laying on the ground by the fresher, her overalls and a few tools slipping out of the top where she’d dropped it. The fresher door was closed, but unlocked, so he stuck his head in. “Shiani?”

The siren was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, wedged between the sink and shower, with her head on her knees and her skirt puddled around her. Tech was instantly concerned, crouching in front of her. “Shiani? Are you alright?”

She peeked up, and her eyes were watery. Her circlet was clutched tightly in her hands, the coral leaving imprints when she slowly relaxed her fingers. “S-sorry.” She whispered. “I know you hate all the crying…” 

“It is alright. What is the matter?” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his glove. “Come here. That cannot be comfortable.” 

Shiani let him gently pull her away from the wall and fold her into his chest. “Sorry.” She repeated. “I let you down. Couldn’t stop the Empire… so many clones are in trouble. Sirens too. Longnecks are dead already… millions of them. Kamino’s oceans are full of blood now.” 

Tech rested his chin over her shoulder. “That is no one’s fault but the Empire. You are not a failure.” 

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Stand up, cyar’ika. Let me show you something.” 

Shiani sniffled, but let him pull her to her feet and stand her in front of the mirror. He wiped another tear off her cheek, then gently pulled her shoulders back and took the circlet from her to set it back on her brow. She scrunched her face and looked at him over her shoulder. “I look silly dressed up like this, but Chuchi said I needed to look like a princess.”

He turned her chin back to the mirror. “Look carefully. Standing in front of you is the bravest woman in the galaxy. Someone who overcame generations of traumatic experience and a lifetime of mistreatment.” He gently lifted her chin again and made her look at her reflection. “Someone who dislikes being the center of attention, but who chose to face the Galactic Senate to do the right thing. Who disavowed her people, but still wants to protect them. Who wanted justice for those who wronged her people.” He pressed a kiss against the side of her neck. “And did so beautifully, I might add.” 

Shiani closed her eyes, leaning back against him. “I don’t feel brave.” 

“You were. I watched your holo several times. I cannot describe how proud of you I am.” His arms slid around her middle, cuddling her the way he knew by now she needed when she was close to melting down. 

She sighed, relaxing into his arms slowly. “I knew you’d get the recording.” She finally said. “You had the hard part… I just had to talk.”

“Which you have never done in public before. Public speaking is a common fear.” His thumbs rubbed circles against the cutouts on her hips, where her tentacles came through. His eyes stayed on her face in the mirror, but a smile hovered over his lips. “You genuinely do not believe what you did was extraordinary. I, however, could watch that recording of you for hours.” 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Why?”

“You were so serious and impassioned. It was captivating… and very attractive. This dress did not hurt, either.” 

Shiani looked down. “You like the dress?”

“I find you attractive in whatever you wear, but I will admit there is something intriguing about seeing a different side of you. I am accustomed to a gentle, curious version who enjoys learning and building things and listens without interrupting. On occasion, I have seen the warrior who approaches any threat with your fangs first to protect what she cares about. And…” He kissed her neck again, softer this time and with a squeeze of her hips to accompany the way his words trailed over her skin. “... sometimes, a playful and enthusiastic lover who is far stronger than she appears. Do you know what I saw when I looked at you today?”

“Hm?” She was leaning back into his chest as he cradled her, squishing her battered soul back into her body with his embrace. Maybe after she took a shower she could convince him to just lay on her and squish her flat until everything inside her stopped feeling like it was full of angry urchins…

“I saw the most beautiful queen in the galaxy.” He moved his hands to her upper arms and slid down, straightening her arms at her side until his hands curled into hers over top of them. “Not a frightened princess but a queen. A leader, fighting with everything she had to save three different races that all came from a planet she hates the idea of returning to but still shows compassion for. Just when I thought I couldn’t be more smitten with that queen, I remembered you were already mine.” He set her hands on the counter lightly, keeping her palms flat on the metal with his own. 

Shiani’s smile slid a little wider across her lips. “... You’re flirting with me.”

“Of course I am. I thought it was obvious.” He nuzzled into the side of her neck. “Unless you have any opposition to that?”

“I don’t, but who’s flying the ship, Tech?” 

“The autopilot. We are over three standard hours from exiting hyperspace.” He pushed her hands a little further forward, until they met the wall under the mirror and she was bent nearly double at the waist. “That is enough time for me to reduce your anxiety and upset using the endorphins released during orgasm.” 

Shiani’s cheeks flushed blue. “Very practical.”

“I have my talents.” He locked the fresher door with a free hand and nudged her feet apart. “I hope the practical aspect of this does not dim your understanding of how I feel about you, cyar’ika.” 

Her eyes softened, locked on his in the mirror. “Not at all. Let me take the dress off-”

“I would prefer you to leave it on. As I said, it is not often I get to see this side of you. I intend to enjoy it.” He vanished from her sight when he dropped to his knees behind her, pushing the pretty white fabric of her dress up over the curve of her ass and pulling her underwear down her legs in the same motion. “Step out, please.” 

Shiani followed instruction, breathless as he tucked her panties into his pocket and squeezed her cheeks while he admired the view for a moment. Then his mouth was on her, tongue sliding through her folds. Like everything he did, Tech was precise and calculated at this. He knew exactly how to pull her apart, to make her forget all the things she regretted and failed. Nothing mattered the minute Tech put his exceptional mind to loving her. 

His hands wrapped around her thighs, keeping her upright when she started shaking and grinding against his face. He only let her go long enough to slip off his gloves before pushing on the small of her back. She dropped to her elbows and stretched to her tiptoes to reach the floor still. 

Tech kissed his way up her spine, squeezing every bit of flesh he could find. Thighs, rear, hips, tummy, breasts, until he had her pinned to the counter by his pelvis pressed against her ass and his still-armored chest on her back. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.” He murmured, blowing air across her good ear to make her shiver. “Do not close your eyes. I want you to watch how beautiful you look. There is nothing more satisfying than the look on your face when you come.” 

Shiani nodded, eyes dead ahead. Behind her, Tech backed up only long enough to remove his codpiece and unzip, wasting no time. He held her skirt bunched up at her waist as he gripped her left hip and sank into her. Her eyes wanted to roll back, but she forced them open when he started moving, releasing her hip to dip his fingers down between her thighs and stroke her clit with calculated precision. 

Her mouth was open, fangs on display as she whimpered and whined his name. Her skin started to shine, slick with sweat, and her blue flush got darker. He'd wanted her to look, and she barely recognized the girl in the mirror. A siren in her crown, moaning Tech's name as his armor left bruises in her flesh… it was the most perverse kind of pretty she'd ever seen, and the most beautiful she'd ever felt in her life.  

Tech let go of her skirts and slid the arm under her, fingers splayed over her throat and keeping her head where he wanted while his face pressed next to hers. She couldn't keep her eyes off of him, face red with exertion. She tried to close her mouth, put her fangs away and curl her fingers into fists that hid her claws in case she saw that look she feared across his perfect honey brown eyes. 

Tech was too smart not to notice, and ever-so-carefully squeezed the side of her throat. “No. No hiding.” He rumbled into her ear. 

He wanted her as she was, and when she realized it her claws dug furrows into the durasteel countertop. She choked out a high, keening note and collapsed, panting and writhing as Tech kept going through her release. When the overstimulation nearly had her sobbing, he moved the hand between her thighs to her chest and hauled her upright. 

She was still looking, trembling with his every movement, impaled on his cock and a sweat-soaked, teary, drooling mess. Tech just turned her head and kissed her hard as his thrusts lost rhythm and heat pooled in her belly from his spend. Tech carefully pulled himself off her, setting her on the counter both to let her rest and to have something to lean on when his own legs wobbled. 

 He couldn't see a thought left in those big eyes of hers besides adoration when she looked at him, taking the crown off her head and setting it on his instead. He could only laugh and kiss her again. “You are a much prettier queen than I am, cyar’ika.” He murmured, cuddling her. 

She wrapped her fingers into the shoulder straps of his chest plate and kissed him, stretching a tentacle out to turn on the fresher. Tech made an agreeable hum  against her lips and stripped them both. Too spent for much else, they ended up sitting on the sanistream floor with her straddling his hips, half grinding and half washing the day off the other under the hot water.  

And if the “standard refractory period” ended and he slipped back into her, rocking up until her head rolled back and he'd coaxed another two orgasms from her before the water started to cool… well, it was time well spent. He'd remember what his siren queen looked like when she let him dry her off and dress her back in her overalls, then pack her crown away and put her dress in the hamper. He’d commit to memory the way she looked before she climbed into his lap back in the pilot’s seat and fell asleep with her hand tangled in his shirtfront and tentacles wrapped around him in four different directions. 

And if she ever doubted herself again, so would she.

[pbandjesse]

Today was. Like 4 different days. I am excited to go to sleep.

I sort of got to sleep in. But not actually. I didn't have to be up until 8 but I would feel stress and couldn't stay asleep. I did get to see James briefly before they left. And I would get up pretty soon after that.

I felt like my face was really puffy this morning. Like my eyes and cheeks seemed puffy. I had coughed really really hard at 6am. James said I sounded like I was struggling really bad. I would do a little better once I was up and standing. And my face would stop being puffy by the middle of the day. But I was feeling kind of bad about myself to start.

I had breakfast. James left me an omelet in the microwave. I shared some of it with Sweetp. And would get myself ready to leave.

My appointment was at 9. And everyone was driving stupid. And me being nice and letting someone in front of me caused me to lose the last parking space in the lot so I had to turn around in the office ally and park on the street. Which was fine and only mildly annoying because the couple that snagged the last spot were still sitting in their car when I was done in the doctor's which means their appointment was after mine and it annoyed me. Ugh

I had a good appointment. I think my doctor thinks I'm funny. James says it's because I recount stories like a stand up special. But the thing I like about this doctor is because he doesn't dismiss me because I'm silly in my delivery.

I tried to make him understand that while I was mostly okay in this moment, I would deteriorate throughout the day and the night was the worst. And he got it. He thinks I'm still a little sick because of the rhumatologist medicine. So he wants me to try antibiotics. And taking Flonase consistently to try and help the drowning. And if nothing improves he has also prescribed me the same steroid as before and maybe if I take that throughout the day rather then just once it'll help longer. He's really nice.

I paid and made a followup appointment. And headed out.

I was so close to the museum that I decided to stop and say hello to James. When I got there I got some compliments on my outfits from Meghan and one of the newer educators and it was so nice to chat with Meghan. She would actually reach out to me later and we made plans to hang out in a few weeks. She's great.

I also just hugged in James for a minute and told them what the doctor said. It was a worthwhile stop for sure.

I left as their group was coming in and went to my job. It wasn't much longer then the drive from home. And it wasn't a bad drive. No real traffic but someone started tailgating me and flashing their high beams at me for not tailgating the person in front of me I guess. And then once they got around me I watched them swerve in and out of traffic and it was so dangerous. Stupid behavior.

I got to camp and put away low ropes first thing. Before I even got to the office. And it was much warmer today so the only thing that sucked was moving the ladder around. But I got it done and it was honestly beautiful out and I had worn enough layers to be comfy.

I went to the office next and filled them in on the appointment. And then about the workshop tomorrow. Checked in about Samson and anything they wanted me to bring. Specifically the quad poster that needs to be repainted with more current pictures but it's something at least.

I would do some work on my document and my workshop and just some other little things. I had the rest of my spaghetti from last night for lunch. It was a nice day.

In the afternoon I would take a walk to the art building. I collected the got glue guns and a few small things for tomorrow. I also grabbed my hiking slip one and some of the clothes I had up there to bring home and decide if I'm getting rid of them for real. I grabbed some clogs I had up there too and wanted to try those again. But I tried them tonight and remembered why I was getting rid of them. Ah well. Worth trying.

I went to the nature building next and got a tank to set up for Samson. He was mostly buried but I stole some of his dirt for the travel tank. And would leave him for now. I would return for him at the end of the day.

When I got back to the office I poked around the attic. Worked on writing my feild trip schedule for the next couple months. Got confused about a creative alliance workshop I had written down and sent an email to Parker and then immediately realized what it was and emailed him back to ignore my last email and he thought that was very funny. Sometimes I move to fast with sending emails!!

But it's fine

I got my calendar all set up and hung it in the window.

I would do a little designing for the wedding open house were having. And went through some photos Elizabeth uploaded to the drive. And worked on that until I needed more feedback before I could move forward and Elizabeth was on a tour so it really decided the end of my day for me.

I would chat with Heather and promised to take pictures tomorrow. And went to get Samson.

He was poking out of his shell and he's a sweet boy so it was not a big deal to transfer him. I brought the tank to my car and buckled him in in the backseat.

And then it was time to go.

I stopped at the grocery store. To get Caeser dressing for dinner. And then drove home. It was not a bad drive. Not to much traffic. I was just tired.

When I got back I took Samson in first. Then came back to the car for eveything else. I moved my car closed for the second run. And saw our neighbor Ryan and we waved. It is nice to make friends with the neighbors.

I spent the next bit of time putting my materials together for the workshop. And putting some stuff away. I'm just thrilled with the studio right now and I can't wait to a really have time to sit and make things. I have some plans!

James would come home soon. I was moving some stuff into our book cases and was so happy to see them. I started not feeling amazing and decided to stop working and went to chill on the couch.

James made me a salad and they had falafel. And we would chill for a bit before it was time to go to the theater.

James was working concessions at theater project and it was a happenstance show so I wanted to go. And it was fun! When we got there it was nice to see Chris and then happenstance had set up a puzzle of the garden of earthly delights and I worked on it with someone else.

I'm sad I didn't get their name but they we were so fun and we talked and worked on the puzzle for a good half hour. We talked about puzzles and school and cults and shows at this theater and they were just so lovely. But then I ran to the bathroom as the house opened and when I came back they were gone and I couldn't find them again. I hope we cross paths again!

The show was fun. I always love the different clown styles of happenstance. This was very different. It was medieval. Which is much later in history then they usually play but it was fun. Not my favorite show but I thought it was really wonderful. There was apart where a demon was attached to a guy and all the costumes were just so fun. I had s really good time.

I was struggling to not cough the whole time though. I had to use the inhaler twice during an 80 minute show. I hope I wasn't disturbing anyone but I know I was at least a little. Sorry everyone.

When the show was done I followed James out. I had saved them a seat at the very top of the theater and we were able to quickly pop out the back. Grabbed our coats and headed out.

We walked past the new club that opened next to/under theater project and you could literally hear the music from the club during the show so I'm sure that has become an issue for theater project. I hope they can figure something out there because it's kind of a shitty situation. Like no one is in the wrong but it's not cool for sure.

We got to the car and my mom had just called. I'm like. Okay whos dead. Also if it's my dad I'm gonna be pissed. But no one is dead. Dad is just in the hospital. He is okay. This is a good thing. It feels to heavy to talk about, but he's getting help and that is positive movement. And I just want to know my parents are okay and not just living but happy and thriving. And I'm proud of him for taking the steps to get better. Even if it's really hard.

We would get home and see that Samson was awake and eating lettuce. Sweetp was being a cutie. James gave me a hug and took my workshop stuff to the car so I wouldnt have to in the morning. And I went to take a shower.

The shower helped a little but I really want to sleep now. I am coughing still but it's not as constant and not as hardcore. Tomorrow I will be better.

Tomorrow is a busy day. I have my workshop until 1130. And I hope to have Samson back to camp by 1230. And then back home not long after 1. I would like to sleep for a little. And then I head to the musuem for the fundraiser! I'm looking forward to the night. I hope it's a lot of fun.

I hope you all have a good night too. Sleep well. Take csre of yourselves. Take care of eachother. Good night.

[rottenseaweed]

random plot points/ideas for my gay mermaids part 5 (two in one day wow)

super duper spoilery under the cut, if you ever intend to read this story, skip this post (it's just my disorganized notes don't worry about it)

I'm considering kind of a tragic ending for this. I had already planned that Cal would be exiled, and I originally wanted them both to travel together afterwards, but I don't think it makes all that much sense. Ren is the type who can move on from places and people fairly easy, considering how unstable her life is, so it wouldn't be such a big deal for her to just go away if forced. She was kinda planning on it anyway. Cal on the other hand is a very very cautious person, and she got used to the protection of the pod and the Seers after living with them for about 60 years. It's almost all she can remember. She was daydreaming about leaving at some point in the distant future, but she needs to feel 120% prepared to do so. Suddenly being exiled because she was caught seeing the witch would nearly destroy her, and the last thing she would look for is more uncertainty and instability by travelling with Ren, who can barely swim properly.

Before this happens I want to build their romance more, so the first time her loyalty is questioned she'll escape with an explanation through a vision sent to the Seers by Edith. Then the whole blood oath situation gets resolved and only then does Cal get caught in the act of turning human, and then is exiled for good. In the moment I think she panics and just goes to Edith as fast as she can and avoids Ren for a few days.

Ren goes to find her, she gets excited because Cal getting exiled means they can finally be together for real, and doesn't realise in the moment how scared and hurt Cal actually is because if this had happened to Ren, she wouldn't give a shit. She's used to making it on her own wherever she goes. Obviously Cal gets mad and "breaks up" with her (idk if they would be official by this point but prob yes). Cal stays with Edith because she doesn't know what else to do, and Ren crashes back down into her loop of surviving to see tomorrow and only finding any form of joy by hurting others with her stealing (kind of a revenge thing, if the world is shit to me, i'll be shit right back)

ok. Ren being half-siren isn't static. The fact that Cal didn't turn her fully on the spot doesn't mean she's stuck between human and siren, like I had previously planned. Over time, the scale tips towards the siren part more and more - the urges to drown others get stronger, her song gets stronger, turning back and forth stops hurting completely and requires almost no effort. Then she starts having trouble getting her legs back, and the big patches of red scales she had at the start begin to shrink. Then she can't get rid of the claws and inter-finger membrane even when she's human, and her fins change too.

So normally siren fins are very dense, with thin, even spines, and they're white. Ren's had red sections because she was only half turned obviously, but the fin build was the same. Now because she wasn't properly turned right after the bite, as she slides further into siren teritory, her fins get a little fucked. They change gradually, but the last time, when she turn fully siren, the spines are a lot less dense, less even, and less delicate; the skin between is a little more opaque and the edges tend to droop between spines. They are white, but the tips have a dried blood kinda color permanently. Most importantly, her caudal flips. Instead of being positioned horizontally, like a dolphin's (the way a siren's caudal usually looks like), hers is now vertical. That is the very last thing that happens before she loses the ability to turn human ever again. Because her transformation wasn't forced to complete within minutes like every other siren's, she can't turn back on her own like Cal.

So at this point a few months would have passed since the breakup, and Ren would have felt her final moments on land coming, so I'm picturing a dramatic moment where she says goodbye to Elliot and tries her damndest to keep her legs for a few more seconds to prolong the hug, but the side fins slowly and painfully poke out of her calves, and the bones of her feet split and elongate for the caudal until her half-legs-half-tail can't hold her upright anymore and Elliot carries her to the water or she just falls in because they were on a cliff or smth - you know, drama, because the moment needs it

What I haven't decided yet is if she keeps her memories or not, because no other siren (turned normally) remembers their life on land unless min a century has passed since. It would be so gloriously painful if she didn't of course, but I feel like the amnesia trope is a little overdone and I've used it for Cal already - that could be a tasty juxtaposition where Cal is just starting to remember who she was before, as Ren forgets everything; but if she didn't forget (and the anomaly would be warranted because her whole transformation was done "wrong") if she remembers, she would be forced to sit alone with her thoughts for days and days and days, the only distraction being catching and eating raw fish for the first time; and there would be room to understand why Cal rejected her. Because I think she would just avoid that mess of emotions while she was still on land, and just get caught up in more and more complex and dangerous heists to let the frustration out, and she needs to actually process it you know? I do want them to get back together. But I want there to be a strong base of overcome problems when they do.

I'm not sure what would make sense for her to do in those days. In her final moments on land with Elliot, did she think she would lose her memory and tell him not to come find her so as to not see a husk of a person? Would she not think of that, and then Elliot would camp on the beach with Allen and wait for her, but would she go? I guess the question actually is would Elliot be on the beach when Ren would go looking, because she absolutely would if she kept her memories. I guess I'll decide if she tells him to forget her or not when I write that part.

One more problem. I know Cal just stays as Edith's apprentice and learns magic and all that, but idk what Ren would do in all that time. This might be a situation of Ren just focusing on survival and somewhat processing things while Cal is at Edith's, and Edith knocks some sense into her until she eventually stops avoiding her emotions too and then goes looking for Ren.

Does Ren bump into Cal's old pod. Does she join them for Sign benefits. And do the pod members who saw Cal turn human to meet Ren remember Ren's face. I think they do know who she is, but they just assume she'd lost her memory and let her stay with them for a bit despite any minor risks because she's faster with her vertical tail fin and can help with hunts.

Ok that's all I think. I do need to figure out more siren lore related to their relationship with the Seers and the Sea and the duty that they're obligated to do, but I'll leave that for later.

[rainglade]

Recently, I completed two of my loftiest New Year's resolutions ever, and the best part is that I'm ahead of schedule ~

Around two years ago, on the 19th of March in 2021, I created two resolutions. I like having resolution-making as a tradition I complete on my birthday, because if you think about it, "January 1st" is just a arbitrary spot in Earth's revolution around the sun that doesn't really hold a lot of salience to anyone in particular (except maybe Julius Caesar, may he rest in pieces). My birthday, though, is the (approximate) spot around the sun where my body finished its creation around 21 revolutions ago. Thus, it is an actual auspicious time for me in specific, but I digress.

On that day, I made two resolutions, ones that I planned to complete over the next several revolutions, or years- I gave myself extra leeway since I knew the future would not be predictable. The two resolutions were this: absolve my mind of irrational fears, and absolve my mind of unwarranted culinary limitations.

I wouldn't say that one resolution was more difficult than the other. I found them both challenging, albeit in different ways. The first was self-explanatory, I didn't want to feel limited by irrational fears, and I made the choice to tackle the easier ones first. Spiders, insects, roaches, horses, roller coasters, electrocution, not being able to pull myself up if I was stuck on a cliff, fear of heights, etc. Some were, of course, easier to work through than others, but eventually I worked myself through all of them. Some fears, like heights or electrocution, have a rational side to them, so I made sure to pinpoint the aspects of them that were not rational (fearing sitting near electrical outlets or being scared of walking on a secure glass-bottomed bridge, among others). In fact, I worked through pretty much all of these fears in the first year and a half, and then only two remained.

The two that remained were complicated, hence why I left them for the end. These were 1) drowning and 2) exposing my arms or legs. I couldn't tackle drowning without swimming, and to swim I would be wearing shorts (exposing my legs), so that one became a big obstacle. I decided to start wearing t-shirts first, exposing my arms. I owe a big part of this to the closest thing I have to an older sibling, my cousin shalin.

He's the only person I know, relative-wise, that wore my exact insecurity like it was nothing. To be clear, I was never uncomfortable showing my skin or the shape of my body, it was always about hair. It realistically isn't that big a deal, but it caused such a huge dilemma for me, one that is too complex to include in this post, but tldr: I was insecure with the amount of body hair I had and too uncertain to get rid of it. Seeing him simply exist, being the only person I knew with the amount of hair I had, wearing clothes I was too scared to wear, gave me so much space to do the same. Finally, I started wearing t-shirts. (and thank goodness for that, because the scorching Texas summer heat that climate disaster has wrought is no joke).

Fast-forward to a year and a half later; wearing black jeans and a t-shirt was my unofficial uniform during warmer months, but no shorts yet. Or rather, I had worn shorts a total of only 8 times in the span of about 7 years (yes, I counted). After so long, I came to grapple with a crossroads during my recent study abroad in Colombia (thanks for the scholarship, Texas Global!).

On the second to last dayof our trip, our cohort went river rafting. The only way I could avoid both drowning and wearing shorts was to simply not go by faking illness or just saying I wanted to stay back from the rafting experience. The version of me that existed a year ago would have jumped at the opportunity to avoid the water altogether, but thankfully, I've grown since then.

I chose to go. To ease the burden, I trimmed down the hair on my legs just a bit the night before, so I could feel the anxiety and work through it without bein too overwhelmed with it. It was more or less a success, I wore a sleeveless spf shirt and swim shorts and swam in la vieja river. Did I have a panic attack in the water rapids and almost drown? Maybe, but that's besides the point :P

The next day, I wore a pair of shorts in public (not swimming), as if I had always done so, and that it was completely normal. Turns out, I had developed sensory issues. Whether I had always had them or if they had developed as a result of wearing only pants for 7 years, I wasn't sure. When I wore pants, my hair felt the same sensation all day: fabric. It was easy to tune out. Now, every gust of wind, splash of water, movement of my shorts, bumping into something, etc, made it harder to disperse feelings of overstimulation originating from my leg hair. Finally, after I came home to Houston, I did what I maybe should have done 7 years ago: I shaved my legs (actually, I trimmed them and then used a depilatory cream, but same difference).

This has felt sooo liberating, and I feel so much comfortable in my own skin. I just wore shorts! For like 4 days straight! 2022 me would be shook.

This ride ain't over yet, though.

Remember, there's still that other minor resolution, the one about "culinary limitations." See, I'm allergic to all tree nut species (except 5), as well as peanuts, chickpeas, sesame seeds, kiwi, and eggplant. On top of that, I don't eat anything that comes from an animal, except honey, occasionally. Personally I don't think this is that limiting, but that's probably because I've lived with it since forever. Other people tend to disagree "wow that sucks!" "where do you get your protein??" "so you must have been starving when you were at [insert random location here]" et cetera. Still, it does make me think about foods (read: ingredients) I don't eat because I "don't like them."

Imagine being a fully grown adult and saying something like "ew no I don't like [insert fruit or vegetable here] and I won't eat it!" for no reason. What am I, a toddler? Embarrassing.

Anyways, I took a look at foods I didn't like and narrowed it down to the ones I previously felt I could never eat: Okra (always slimy), mango (bad taste), banana (tasted horrible), avocado (tasted like grass and dirt), papaya (tasted like vomit), and carbonated drinks (too fizzy). Mango was the first to go, I don't love overripe mango but I'll eat it if its in front of me, and any other form of mango I love. Okra I disqualified because I learned that it was the cooked version i disliked, not the vegetable itself (I had pickled okra and it was great). Carbonated drinks were next, I don't crave them at all, but I'll taste someone else's if they say it is good. Papaya was next, some papaya actually tastes good, the key is picking the right species and not letting it ripen too much (otherwise it secretes compounds that are the same as what is in human bile, hence the vomit flavor). Avocado took a while, but that shift was catalyzed when I was in Mexico (thanks again, Texas Global), and avocado was served with each of our meals. It also tasted better there, I think. Now, I'd eat avocado toast any day. The final piece is banana. I tried to eat a banana in Colombia, but I gagged at the first sniff and figured it would be embarrassing to vomit in front of everyone, so I stayed away from it. That's still a work in progress, but I will complete this resolution.

I set this now; in time I intuit it will be.

[having-trouble-feeling-feelings]

the submarine

sep 19th, 2022

american baron once said turning 22 is like waking up in a submarine with a giant hole and a box of tissues to slow down the leak. in a few months i will turn 28 and i can't stop thinking about that. For the past two years (including the pandemic and the insufferable months of lock down), all i could think about was how time was slipping from my hands.

it feels like a bottle of red wine broke through my fingers and ran down my clothes. the wine stains will exist forever, but the liquid evaporated both slow and fast.

reaching my 30's has been harder than i anticipated. i never got rid of the sadness that grew within during my teen years. i became better at concealing, better at pretending i don't get bothered by the solitude. i grew used to faking happiness when i'm ignored whenever i have no friends. i'm talking about those weekends in which i see everybody having fun but me. it has become easy to leave people behind, to forget to care, to hope for a better life. meanwhile, i keep lying in bed watching tiktoks and thinking life is a mess.

everyday a box of tissues to stop the hole in the submarine, but today the water finally reached knee level. soon enough it will be hard to walk . the duties, the responsibilities already make every step a little harder. i can't stop thinking about the day that i will drown. i fear the journey won't be enough.

one of these days i read a science article. it stated that, when you die, you spend your last thirty seconds re-living moments of your life, like in the movies. your brain will shoot well being hormones to the rest of your body and then the lights go out. i'be been thinking that, at least, i get to be happy for my last 30 seconds, even if forced by my own brain.

what was the last time you were happy? i see people (maybe this is what aging means) that already recall moments from high school as golden. when i walk the street and see teenagers going to class i'm starting to envy the skin and their youth. for me, that phase ended a decade ago.

like the last two pandemic years, the last decade ran down so fast. my mother was my age when she gave birth to me. she was as young. in 27 years i will be like her now, but 27 years doesn't seem like so much time now, does it?

we reach a point in life where our plans aren't for a year. during school and college, my goal was to end the year with As. after those places, life converts into a calendar with bigger numbers. years run off in the blink of an eye, so we start planning for decades. having a boyfriend by 28, a house by 30, children by 35, having traveled the world by 40. a house in the mountains by 45.

there it is: a life in the making, water by your waist, a submarine halfway to the bottom of the ocean and all you've lived so far was... not what you wanted. i'm still spending nights awake, thinking of what happiness is. do we know what we want? do we have the answer to the meaning of life?

each day the water level is an inch higher and the air available - your amount of time in this planet - is more and more scarce. this is where the suffocation comes from.

existing in a trap, an eternal wait till the day i will finally low down my guard. and then it will hit me. it's a game i can't win either way - a pain to live, a lack of options in death. it's either try this only chance we were given, or give up.

i've been pretending to enjoy my birthday for the last couple years.

sometimes when i open the widows from my apartment in the 5th floor I hope I will never think of jumping off.

[bluejayblueskies]

1, 11, 15, 23, 30

weird questions for writers!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

i write pretty much exclusively in times new roman! i usually switch to lucida grande for editing since that's the ao3 font and it helps me catch typos, and occasionally i'll write in arial in google docs if i don't feel like changing it from the default, but 9 times out of 10, it's times new roman. i don't really care much, but i've also gotten used to writing in tnr, so if i try to switch it messes with my flow and makes me think more about the font than the words, so i think i'm pretty much stuck with it XD

(more under the cut!)

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

i had to google what this means askldgag ('to get rid of an unnecessary storyline, character, or sentences in a piece of creative writing') but i do think it's good advice! i've been working a lot in the past few years since i started writing again (first for tma, and now for malevolent) to clean up my writing style, and i think this is part of it for sure. i get very attached to my long sentences, and learning to cut them up or delete them altogether was very hard for me. i'm still bad at outright cutting scenes or storylines that i'm fond of, and honestly the ones i'm less fond of as well. i'd love to get in the habit of re-writing an entire chapter to cull out unnecessary things, but as i'm not planning on writing for profit, simply for fun, and that doesn't sound very fun to me, i haven't put much weight on that

i do have a darling graveyard! i usually plonk sections that i discard into either my notes app or my outline, and sometimes i go back later to recycle, but most of the time i realize that those chunks are better off dead and buried and i don't resurrect them. there was a really good piece of advice i read once that said 'if you run into a block in your writing, the issue is probably 10 lines back' which has helped IMMENSELY, and that's where a lot of my cutting comes in, where i'll just chop a whole section i wrote and start over to get the flow better. thus, the darlings are usually better off dead, because they were causing more problems than solutions.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

i write in the margins of textbooks that i own, and that's pretty much it. i like keeping my books in good condition, so i usually don't write in them, dog-ear my pages, etc.. (i don't take baths, but if i did, i don't think i would read in the bath.) i don't judge people who do, though! it can be very satisfying to mark up a book, and when i do it with textbooks, i love it a lot. it's just not for me with fiction (though i think i would feel better marking up a second-hand book than a bought-new book since it's already no longer in pristine condition!)

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

the physical environment i write in changes, but lately (since i moved) it's been mainly one of two places

i sit in the black faux-leather bucket chair i have in my room, one blanket beneath me, the other covering my legs, feet propped up on my bed (which currently has bookbinding stuff strewn all over it). i have the worst posture as i hunch over my laptop and write my silly little words. i have earplugs in and over-the-ear headphones on, blasting 'Heavy Rain Sounds | No Thunder' from spotify at max volume to drown out the sounds of living with five other people. i probably have some sort of beverage slowly equalizing to room temperature as i get caught up in the writing and forget about it. it's either too hot or too cold; there is no in-between

i sit at my desk in my office at work, where i basically sit around and wait for people to have a/v issues and thus have essentially 6-9 hours of free time to do whatever interrupted by occasionally having to explain to people how an adapter works. there's probably somebody singing vocal warmups in the background, or playing slightly-out-of-tune jazz saxophone, or playing the same piano piece ad nauseum. my coworkers could definitely see my computer screen if they looked; i've still got ao3 pulled up and visible in the background. i may still be listening to heavy rain sounds if the vocal warmups are bad enough, and i almost certainly have coffee that i'm chugging like it's the nectar of the gods because i probably got there at 7:30am and have to make it through to 11:00pm without leaving the building once. it is a Tuesday and i have not seen a window for seven hours <3

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

hmmm, i used to use stuff from my dreams as the inspo. for original writing, but i don't do that as much anymore because a) i don't do much original writing anymore 😅 and b) i don't dream as much anymore! at least not in coherent, recognizable ways that aren't just like. stress dreams. i suppose the tradeoff is that i haven't had a nightmare in a while either so ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ i get inspiration from daydreams if that counts lol?

and i don't think i've ever written in a dream! the closest i've gotten is dreaming that i had a writing-based assignment finished, then waking up and finding out i did not in fact have it finished 😔