#what if that sort of thing worked and it became a nightly routine?

[baldurs-gate-official]

Thinking about how Astarion insisted on staying up to keep watch in the beginning of the game

Yeah, it could be because he needs to go hunt at night without anyone noticing, or because he's keeping an eye out for Cazador/his minions. But... It could also be because he's scared of sleeping/trancing in general?

He's got severe C-PTSD. I have that too. And one of the things I experience from it is a fear of falling asleep.

Sleeping is vulnerability. You're completely defenseless. It's terrifying to fall asleep when you're used to danger! And some abusers will purposefully do things to you when you sleep. I wouldn't put it past Cazador to have done something like that.

It's especially terrifying when you're sleeping somewhere unfamiliar, or as out and open as a forest. With strangers.

Add in the elvish reverie (if we assume Astarion still experiences it as he would if he were alive at his current age)... and he might even be reliving horrible memories every time he tries to rest.

(If you're unfamiliar with elvish trancing/dreaming, I made a post about it and some ways it might affect Astarion as a vampire spawn a while ago)

One of the reasons I think this could be the case is actually the other spawn, specifically what I noticed when we first meet Dalyria and Petras. At first I thought Astarion's eye bags were just a product of being undead. But... Petras, the very human looking spawn, doesn't have that. Dalyria is an elf as well, and like Astarion, she's got some of that tired sleep-deprived purple under and around her eyes.

So all this considered... I think it's very possible that Astarion has a fear of sleeping too. Or at the very least, trouble resting. Him and the other elvish spawn.

It also makes me wonder if he sleeps any better later on in the game. By Act 3 he probably feels more comfortable with you and the group. Sleeping near familiar people (especially people you're very comfortable with, but that's very dependant on your own choices in your game), and having established night time routines can make sleeping feel a little safer.

Plus by that point he's made many new memories he can visit in his reverie. Maybe instead of remembering the terrible things, sometimes he dreams of sun bathing, the first time he bit you or that bear, or any other happy memory he's created since being tadpoled.

Maybe for the first time in centuries, sleeping isn't such a terrible prospect.

[captainderyn]

[Fictober24] Day 3: "I know you better than that."

Prompt: "I know you better than that."

Fandom: LOTRO

Pairings: Wulfwryn/Raenor

Warnings: Implied torture/brutality, implied/mentioned injury

SPOILERS FOR: The end of the Dunland epic (kind of), the beginning of the Rise of Isengard expansion

Summary: After the events that befell Wulfwryn and Raenor when leaving Dunland, the words of elves preparing to leave for the Grey Havens fester in Wulfwryn's mind. Raenor knows that something is bothering her, it is just a matter of sorting through the half-truths she allows herself to admit.

Translations:

meldanya: my beloved

--

All around them, Rohirrim soldiers shuffled through their nightly routines. Canvas tents rustled closed, the fires still burning outside crackles, and the soft, but constant, din of voices dropped down to a murmurr. 

The noise was a welcome hum after the ringing silence of the pits beneath Orthanc, broken only by the roar of the work camp as Raenor had been dragged to and fro. He shuddered and gave a shake of his head to break his thought spiral, focusing instead on rewrapping clean gauze around his hands. 

“Let me.” Wulfwryn settled down next to him, holding her hands out expectedly. Her voice was still raw and ragged after all the smoke and vapors she’d inhaled running around the orcish work camp, among worse things her overseer had forced her to endure. 

“Raenor.” she said, firmly grabbing his attention. With a shaky breath he held out his hands and Wulfwryn began the process of unwrapping the first gauze he’d attempted. After Moria, coupled now with Orthanc, his hands shook worse than before, his joints aching at the repetitive motion. A healer should be able to wrap his own wounds, but Wulfwryn’s touch grounded him in a way caring for his own hurts didn’t. 

His love’s face was grave as she wrapped his hands and forearms, her eyes darting across the healing red gashes where he’d been chained and other spots where harsh hands had taken joy in meeting his flesh. Whether it had been worse than under Moria, he would not and could not consider. 

He remembered very little of their time beneath Orthanc, only snippets in a dark, earthy cell and other times in the cold halls of the tower, chained beside the White Wizard like a creature on display. In his hazy memories, the most vivid was that of murderous rage, an unknown and sickly cold feeling, when Wulfwryn’s overseer had slammed her to the ground solely for speaking to him in elvish. 

Raenor squeezed his eyes closed, opening them when the pressure of Wulfwryn’s wrapping became tighter. He winced, flexing his fingers, and she paused. 

“You worry about me.” he said matter-of-factly, but not happily. He didn’t wish for her to worry about him. He’d caught the way her eyes strayed to him more frequently, assessing and gauging if they should press on. 

Wulfwryn’s eyes flicked to his face and she pressed her lips together. 

“Of course I worry about you.” she said. “I worry about your healing progress, that our travels won’t hinder that. Your progress under the golden leaves of Lorien…I fear it’s been reversed entirely.” 

She stumbled over her words, sidestepping what exactly had reversed his progress.  Raenor could not escape the thoughts of what happened beneath Orthanc; Wulfwryn was unable to speak it aloud at all. 

When they’d escaped the deep halls of the dwarves he noticed she’d begun to monitor more carefully.  Since they’d entered the Gap of Rohan, her presence had turned into that of a fretful shadow. It was beginning to take a toll on her; their bedroll at night was more often than not empty as she sat unnecessary watches, pacing the perimeter of their camp into the wee hours of the morning. 

He reached up his free hand to cup her jaw, bringing her hollow and tired eyes to his. Her nostrils flared in the way they always did when she fought back emotion. 

“I know you better than that, meldanya, than to believe you when you tell me it is simply my injuries you worry about. Something is eating you alive.” 

Wulfwryn cradled his hand against her jaw in her own, running her thumb lightly against the back of it. She opened her mouth, then closed it, again and again, fighting for what words she wanted to say as though they were stuck. 

“I never should have torn you from Rivendell.” she finally said haltingly, though the minced words were built upon layers and layers of guilt that Raenor had steadily peeled away though their conversations across their travels. 

He held the silence between them, brushing his thumb along her cheekbone. They both knew he’d left Rivendell not only on his own volition to take on the quest Elrond presented him, but also out of his own need to escape the sorrows his home held for him. Those words were just the easiest ones for Wulfwryn to fall back on, the same ones she used to break the dam of whatever truly was on her mind. 

Wulfwryn’s eyes went glassy and she tilted her head back, blinking at the ceiling of their tent. 

“Our journey has done nothing but cause you harm of late.” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I fear these last months have done nothing but break you.” 

In some ways it was true, Raenor ceded, his physical body and spirit had been permanently altered by the enemies they faced. Just as his mind had been altered forever by the fall of Edhelion centuries before. 

“I have persevered through many tragedies and harms.” he said softly, pressing for what was beneath yet another mental wall that Wulfwryn struggled against. 

She swallowed, pressing her cheek into Raenor’s hand and shutting her eyes tightly. 

”We have passed many elves in the Great River and before that travel for the Grey Havens for less than what you have endured. When will I push you so far, put you in such danger, that you too will be so desperate for escape as to depart these lands?” 

The words tumbled out of Wulfwryn in a rush and she gasped a tiny breath, as if they were a flooding torrent she’d been trying to hold back. She pressed her lips together until they paled, shoulders giving a telltale shake that belied the wetness gathering in the corners of her eyes. 

In the gaping silence Raenor left as she grasped for words, Wulfwryn opened her eyes to look at him. Her expression was pure devastation and he knew her well enough to know that whatever was going to well to the surface had been festering within her for a long while. 

“It is my hand, my sword, my body that is failing to keep you safe. Every time I fail to keep you out of the hands of the Enemy, I sour this world for you further.” 

He realized now just how many elves they’d spoken to in the course of their journey that lamented their oncoming departure from this world. How many had spoken as though this lifetime was a shadowed mockery of lives they’d lived before. And just how despairing that may seem to a mortal who lives but one short life. 

Though his other hand was half wrapped and the poultice would smear, he brought his other hand to Wulfwryn’s face and pulled their foreheads together, blocking out the world around them. Wulfwryn heaved a shuddering breath. 

“This world is not yet ruined for me, meldanya.” he assured. “These difficult times are but a fraction of the times ahead. I would not be so easily persuaded to leave you.” 

“I am not worried about you leaving me.” Wulfwryn argued, though there was a sorrowful lapse at the end of the sentence that did nothing to convince him otherwise. “I simply do not wish to see you snuffed out so completely.” 

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I will not be, I promise. I am far sturdier than you care to admit.” 

--

NOTE: if anyone would like further context for the events that transpired in Moria, my fic 'My World Is You' centers around those :)

[sleepingdeath-light]

nightly routine with her s/o hcs ; julie langford

requested by ; disney anon (event)

fandom(s) ; bioshock

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; julie langford

outline ; “(option a) Can I request Julie Langford and the reader's nighttime routine and how they sleep together (as in actual sleeping... you know what i mean hehe)”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

it’s rare that she goes to bed at a reasonable hour and more often than not she’ll be working into the early hours of the morning — either all the way in her lab near arcadia or in the office attached to her personal lodging in one of the residential areas of rapture — with the only exceptions to the rule being when she’s either (a) so sick and/or tired that she can’t continue working, or (b) been dragged back to bed by you, her lover

for the sake of this post, i’ll be focusing exclusively on the latter of the two scenarios

she doesn’t have a consistent skincare routine at all, but will let you rub all of your cleansers and moisturisers and creams onto her face before bed if you ask her nicely enough — even if she will huff and mutter all sorts of complaints about how much of a farse the whole thing is (she doesn’t mean a word of it, mind you, but she does like to complain when she’s tired)

always has a quick shower before getting into bed because she cannot stand the idea of bringing anything into the sheets with you both, and will insist on you doing the same — will shower on her own usually, but if you ask to join her then she’ll welcome the help (no funny business, though, she just wants to scrub off all of the grime and climb into bed)

does enjoy a warm drink on an evening, usually whatever sort of tea she can get her hands on, but on days where she’s been run ragged by her employer she’s been known to prefer sharing a glass or two of wine (or any rich alcohol, she’s not too picky) with you before going to bed — it just takes the edge off and helps her relax

once the two of you are clean, clothed, and settled into bed, julie either goes straight to sleep in your arms or stays up for another thirty or forty minutes reading something unrelated to her work (maybe even one of the books you recommended to her if you’re also an avid reader) before setting it aside and going to sleep

(and if you want to talk to her then she will respond, obviously, but she won’t be the one to start any conversations unless she seems it absolutely necessary because she is actually trying to get a reasonable amount of sleep — but if you get her started on her latest projects like the lazarus vector then she will happily talk your ear off about all of her experiments and studies and their findings)

the position she ends up sleeping in is fully dependent on two factors — (1) what kind of sleeper you are, and (2) how warm she is when she’s falling asleep

before the two of you became an item she tended to fall asleep either on her side, facing the door, or on her back if she was particularly exhausted — but now she tends to adapt to whatever kind of sleeper you are

e.g. if you’re the type that likes to cling to others in your sleep then she’ll settle into a position that allows you to wrap your arms around her without having to give herself back/neck ache the next morning (on her back with you curled up on her chest, spooning you from behind if she’s particularly cold at the time, etc.)

or if you’re a more active sleeper then she’s more likely to fall asleep on her side, facing you so that you don’t think she’s ignoring you while still keeping enough distance that she’s unlikely to wake up from you kicking her in the ribs or smacking her in the face in your sleep… again

and if she’s going through a particularly bad hot flush (or the heating system in her room got fucked over for whatever reason) then she may just forgo cuddling and blankets entirely so that she can sleep in peace — making up for the lack of unconscious intimacy by explaining her reasoning to you and punctuating her ‘good night’ with an ‘i love you’ just to be safe

[mwolf0epsilon]

The Frog Trooper - (4/4)

Summary: After contracting a bad case of strep throat, Dogma ends up feeling a little less like himself and begins to withdraw from his brothers. An outside force decides to teach him about self-value and to trust in one's brothers, no matter how annoying they may be.

[And we finally get to a resolution to this froggy conundrum!

It takes a lot of effort to work out misunderstandings caused by miscommunication. You may even flail and stumble along the way, but eventually everything works itself out if you just sit down and are openly honest with the people you want to make up with. Dogma certainly needed to see it with his own eyes to finally understand what he had been missing this entire time.]

[Part 3 can be found here or on AO3]

---

It took an exact four hours and a half for everyone to retire to their bunks. Four hours and a half of sitting around in the terrarium the others had built to contain him. Pressing himself against a bed of mud that didn't feel offensive to his skin (despite his usual aversion to getting himself dirty), and even going for an occasional dip whenever he felt antsy about standing still for too long (he wasn't much of a swimmer either, but he couldn't help but feel amazement at how graceful this body could actually be when in its rightful element).

The first two hours were the scheduled (and technically mandatory) mealtime. With most of the vode having left to join up in the mess hall to eat, while a few of the more solitary sort returned to the barracks with treys in hand to have their late meal in peace. Not the best of times for him to try anything particularly bold or risky.

Dogma watched them quietly, listened to their idle chatter to pass the time, and even accepted offerings of more mealworms, crickets and even mushed up pellet food that Twitch had been thoughtful enough to fill his little dish with. He'd need the calories and energy in the coming hours. The trip he was planning would take him a substantial amount of time and effort in this clumsy little body of his.

With each squirmy, crunchy or mushy treat he consumed, the less opposed he was to his potential future as a somewhat pampered frog. His mind no doubt slipping more and more from his grasp as the instincts began to fully set in and overwrite his personality.

There was no telling how long he had left as himself. He needed to be quick once he got out.

The following two hours after late meal were a mixture of recreational time before curfew, with most troopers going to the training rooms and shooting range, hitting the showers, or simply coming to the barracks to play sabbacc, read, or watch a holofilm on their datapads.

The idle chatter became that familiar droning background noise that he was accustomed to. Noise that he'd undoubtedly miss until his brain finally gave up the ghost and fully converted into that of a mindless little animal.

So Dogma watched from the confines of his glass prison.

Watched in contemplative silence as everyone else went about their business, completely unaware of his attentive gaze. He noted with great interest that each vod had their own routine (their own quirky nightly rituals) that they needed to do before they settled in for the night proper. And, now that he had the time to consider it, Dogma realized he had never stopped to think about any of that before.

How, despite their vast differences in personality, every single trooper of the 501st battalion shared a need for the tiniest of crumbs of stability in the form of practiced patterns. Something he assumed only he required, and that they found reason to scorn him for because he was usually so meticulous about it.

It was his attention to detail that helped him recognize each and every little thing they did as a source of personal solace. Dogma could very easily associate those actions to the vod performing them. The fluffing of pillows, the tucking of blankets in specific manners, and what position they preferred to lay in until slumber took them.

Even the quieting of their voices as they drifted off into restful sleep...

He noticed that Jesse's voice always took on this very distinct timber when he was about to fall asleep, making it soft in a way Dogma never heard when he was fully awake. Because Jesse had never been anything but harsh towards him when he'd realized something was unmistakably defective about him. And yet here in the safety of the barracks, beneath scratchy blankets and head set atop a plumped up pillow, the lieutenant sounded very serene as he whispered in a half-awake state.

Hardcase was always extra giggly when he was beginning to conk out, the exhaustion further muddling his already chaotic thought process. He spoke of nothing and yet everything at the same time. Ideas for absurd sounding strategies (that with some fine tweaking could actually be feasible in a discordantly brilliant sort of way), activities he and his brothers could partake in come morning, or just random facts he'd learned that day that seemed worth sharing to him.

Out of his batch, Kix was always the last one to fall asleep. Making sure to pull the covers over his two batchers, before climbing into his own bunk and sighing contently as he rolled onto his side. He had trouble sleeping most nights, likely haunted by the many terrible things he bore witness to as a medic. But he never put up much of a fuss. Always quiet and collected, respectful of everyone else's need for the quiet.

Echo and Fives were no different from their usual selves. Chatty, giggly, restless while trying to make themselves comfortable in separate bunks, before one gave in and climbed under the other's covers for a cuddle. They slept best in pairs. Much like he and Tup once did (no matter how much he halfheartedly muttered that they weren't cadets anymore). It felt alien to think of one without the other, so naturally that they slotted together. Had Dogma not known better he would have assumed they were literally attached at the hip.

Tup... Dogma's little heart ached as he looked towards his twin's bunk only to find him curled up under the covers. Even now his back was turned away from the terrarium. He hadn't looked at Dogma once in between coming back from late meal and then going to bed. Refusing to look at the ugly and useless little creature he'd become.

It hurt that his twin didn't want anything to do with him anymore. But it did help to solidify Dogma's final decision. His resolve.

It was strangely comforting to know that he had nothing to return to, no reason to stay whatsoever. And accepting that there was no going back to how things were certainly made the whole 'being a frog for the rest of his life' thing easier...

Counting each steadying breath helped keep track of who was or wasn't asleep. They all had a certain breathing pattern when they slept that helped another clone identify whether or not their kin were deep enough under, that moving in and out of the barracks wouldn't disturb them. Dogma knew that pattern by heart.

Deep whistle of a breath in, slight stuttering snort out.

He'd listened to it often enough when he was laying on his own bunk, mind racing with too many thoughts and little to no answers as to what he was doing right or wrong as a brother and soldier. That soft sound the only indicator of them ever being openly vulnerable around him. It had always soothed him to sleep.

Twitch and Sponge were still too awake for him to risk climbing out just yet. That much he could tell from how unusually quiet they were while laying in their bunks. It was actually very rare that Sponge slept in the barracks with the rest of them, but he supposed the current circumstances had tired them out enough that they'd just given up and gone to sleep among vode for once.

Their resistance to fully relaxing was a bother however, and it seemed to be keeping Twitch awake.

"Sponge... You're shaking the bunk..." The younger medic whispered from up above. Head just barely peeking over the edge.

"Hm... Sorry Twitch..." The older medic responded in a hushed tone. They seemed a little embarrassed over being called out like a rowdy cadet caught after lights-out. "Too wired to sleep... Just can't get comfortable..."

"It's been a long day..." Twitch agreed with a weary sigh. "I can't stop thinking about it..."

"Yeah... I might just... I might just go back to the medbay. Let Beau out of her kennel a bit and... Just spend some time with her. She's been cooped up a while now..." The infamously cantankerous medic ran a hand over their face as they slowly sat up. "Better than keeping you up..."

"You're not. I mean... The shaking isn't helping but, but it's not your fault really..." Twitch also sat up, much to Dogma's annoyance. If they kept this up, they might wake someone else and then there went his plan. "If it's of no bother to you, can I come along? I could use some Beau kissy time..."

Yes! Yes go away! Go somewhere else!

"I don't see why not..." Sponge shrugged. "Take your sweater, it's chilly out at this hour."

"Only if you take your coat." Twitch smiled.

"I already was planning on doing that, baar'ur'ika..." The older medic snorted. "Thank you for the reminder anyway... Now lets go before we wake the twins. They're absolute grouches when you disturb their beauty sleep, and we can't have Fives looking any uglier than he already is..."

Twitch suppressed a giggle as he climbed down to the floor to join Sponge in going through their trunks to get warmer clothing articles. Dogma kept a keen eye on them, hoping that once these two were gone that he'd be able to finally put everything into motion.

While Sponge carefully put their fluffy coat on, Twitch looked towards the terrarium. Dogma quickly closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, hoping the little medic wouldn't catch on to his idea. With how perceptive he was, the frog trooper wouldn't put it past him.

He kept his eyes firmly closed when he heard the pitter-patter of semi-bare feet against the tiled flooring, hoping against all odds that he wouldn't be caught. Instead of an accusatory hiss however, he felt gentle and slightly slender fingers run up and down his spine in a petting motion.

Similar to how Sponge had been caressing him before, Twitch was apparently offering him the same kindness. This time he wasn't against it. In fact, he couldn't help but sigh in contentment and lay flatter against the mud he was pretending to sleep on.

He was sure his kih'vod was smiling at the sight. Another thing he'd miss. Twitch's easy-going friendly smile. Oh who was he kidding? He'd miss all of them.

But this was for the best. He couldn't stay. Not anymore...

"Sleep well Dogma... Tomorrow's going to be a good day." The younger medic whispered encouragingly. "I can feel it in my bones."

Yes, it would indeed be a spectacularly good day for the 501st. They would no longer have to deal with a painfully punctilious pest like him.

Dogma waited for the opening and closure of the barrack doors before he dared to open his eyes again. With the two medics gone, he focused once more on the sound of his sleeping vode's deep breaths. He was in the clear. It was time to get climbing.

And climb he did.

With some difficulty at first since he wasn't exactly built to climb anymore. But a combination of stubborn determination and a bit of mud did get him up and over the glass. He mentally thanked Hardcase for his accidental contribution to his escape plan. Without the sticky mud to provide him with some grip, he'd most definitely be unable to get out.

Now came the issue of climbing down... He really hoped these frogs were more resilient than they looked, because making the trek with broken bones wouldn't be easy. Or pleasant.

Lucky for him, he landed relatively well. His body could apparently take a nasty fall like a champ. Must be the extra squishiness providing some much needed padding that softened the blow...

Whatever it was, it saved him a miserable journey. And the ventilation system saved him a potential trampling on the way out. He just needed to avoid the mouse droids.

He doubted they'd be happy to find a trespasser in their territory.

-

"This is absurd Oln..." A white and blue colored BD unit hissed disparagingly, as it watched from up above how the little frog trooper sprinted from one hidden corner of the streets of Coruscant onto the next.

Dogma was being cautious. That much both higher beings in disguise could tell, as they observed his daring escape in progress. Not a bad idea, really. While the vehicular traffic floated well above his little head, the foot-traffic was a different story. And still very much a danger to his diminutive body.

Not to mention the myriad of stray beasts that wouldn't mind making a quick snack out of him...

"Your plan did not work at all, and now that poor trooper is allocating himself to live at the zoo!" The BD's lens focused on the red loth-cat sitting lazily besides it. A righteous fury radiating off of the droid as it regarded its companion with burning judgement of their impulsive actions.

"I wouldn't say it failed either..." The cat responded calmly. "I provided a fresh perspective through the eyes of something he and his brothers seemed to consider repulsive and lesser."

"You caused him needless misery, is what you did! And it did not solve whatever turmoil he was already going through..." Arbiter stamped their foot in disagreement. "While the others had his best interest at heart, they did not communicate with him appropriately... And he continued to misunderstand what their feelings towards him truly were..."

"It is not an easy lesson to learn." Oln conceded. Well aware that a lot had not gone according to their plan, but still seeming optimistic about the current odds. "Matters of the heart rarely are, which is what makes Humans so stubbornly impossible at times... But I do believe this will spur his brothers into actually putting themselves in his shoes."

"How? He's run off and left no idea of where he is headed..." Arbiter sat back down, watching the frog turn towards another corner that would lead him into a maintenance shaft. One that lead towards the level he needed to climb to, to get to the zoo.

"That's where the beauty of bonds lay, my dearest friend..." Oln smirked in that cat-like way they often did. "His closest brothers will know. At the very least, his twin will know... And that's exactly who he needs right now."

"I hope you're right... For the poor guy's sake at least."

"When have I ever given you reason to doubt any of my plans?"

"Oh, I can list a few instances..."

"Just trust in me, Arb..."

-

Coric was, unequivocally, a bit of a restless mess.

It's not like he could really help it (not when circumstances were as they were). And he knew he wasn't the only one in this kind of state. Otherwise all of the other medics wouldn't have slowly sneaked out of their bunks in the middle of the night, and gone to the medbay to ponder on that day's mind-boggling events.

The on duty CMO was sure that he was slowly wearing a hole in the floor as he paced. Looking quite the sight of anxious energy, with one arm behind his back while the other remained raised up so that he could tap away at his chin in time with his incessant pacing.

Were he the one sitting on the floor enjoying Beau time, he might have snapped at whomever might have been in his current position. But if his pacing bothered anyone, no one seemed to have it in them to say it out loud. Not that either Twitch or Sponge were currently focusing on anything but the rotund barghest who was valiantly attempting to drown them in her slobber...

"We're going to have to tell Rex, aren't we?" Pitch called up from the examination table where he was laying with his hands over his chest. It was his best imitation of a dead body laid out by a natborn mortician for display (a rather strange mourning ritual that disturbed him to no end, once he'd learned about it).

"We told the others." Kix pointed out, seeing no reason to stall any further in terms of bringing this up to their CO. "If we keep it from him for too long, he might not take kindly... As medics it's our job to be the responsible ones and report any kind of trouble..."

"Not to mention we also told Ahsoka, general Nu and general Che..." Twitch added, never once looking up from where he was focused on giving Beau the best scratches of her life. "The captain will definitely be a little sore if we don't tell him that one of his troopers has turned into an exotic frog..."

"Yes, because approaching the captain with this topic without sounding absolutely insane is going to be oh so easy..." Sponge's muffled response was full of bitter sarcasm as usual.

"Usually, yes we'd sound like we're on Spice. But we do have proof vod'ika." Coric pointed out, giving his legs a break by sitting right next to Pitch on the examination table. "I doubt Rex would think we went to the extent to tattoo a frog just for the sake of a practical joke..."

"Doubt even Hardcase would go that far." Pitch agreed. "And he's done some pretty outlandish things to get back at Jesse and Fives..."

"And we also have eyewitness accounts." Twitch added, recalling everyone that had seen Dogma growing sick in the mess hall, and then the group that had seen him transforming. "Oh, and probably security footage from the medbay..."

Coric felt bad for the poor sod who'd have to go through that footage during inspection day. They were, without a doubt, in for a shockingly gross surprise once their shift began.

As it stood, they were all pretty much at a standstill. Basically just sitting idle while waiting for something to happen (new developments perhaps? Some miracle solution to come down from the heavens? A request for them to somehow be able to extend their leave so that Dogma wasn't left alone in his current condition?).

Ask and the Force shall provide. Or however that saying went...

The door to the medbay opened up and in walked the captain himself and their padawan commander. The former looking somewhat bewildered by something currently unknown to them, while the latter had a wide grin upon her jovial face for reasons also unknown. Whenever Ahsoka Tano was in this good a mood, the medics had learned to either be alarmed by whatever may follow, or to look forward to something quite grand.

"Good news boys! Master Nu might have found something in the Archives!" The togruta proclaimed, causing all medics to perk up and turn to face her (or, in Sponge's case, lightly readjust Beau's position so that they could see past her chest fluff).

"The general found a way to cure Dogma?!" eyes wide with both hope and excitement, Twitch practically ran over to meet with the two new arrivals. A light bounce in his step.

"About that..." Rex frowned, sending the medical staff a stern glare as he crossed his arms in typical 'I'm not angry I'm just disappointed' fashion. He was clearly not too pleased with not having been in the know. "What's this about Dogma turning into a frog...?"

Kix and Coric both winced audibly, while Pitch quickly looked away so as to not face Rex when he was displeased with them all. Twitch was the only one who didn't seem deterred, even when Sponge fidgeted uncomfortably at getting caught being sneaky. Usually they weren't too bothered with incurring the captain's wrath.

Tonight was proving to be very astounding indeed.

"We were going to tell you sir. We just hoped we wouldn't have to so soon while we didn't have definitive answers..." The younger medic explained. "And it's a good thing too. If there's a potential cure, then you really didn't need to worry about it in the end!"

"....Any of the men I'm responsible for turning into frogs under my nose, is still something I should DEFINITELY worry about. Even if there is a cure..."

"Hold your fathiers, I didn't say it was a cure!" Ahsoka interjected while holding her hands up in the universal show of getting everyone to back up a bit. "But it might lead us to one, since it is something the Force itself might be able to do after all..."

"Still better than nothing!" Pitch pointed out optimistically, an easy smile on his face. "Information is information... Oh, and if we're going to the general about this, we should go get Dogma. I'm sure he'll want to hear about this. It might do him some good since he's been a bundle of nerves all day..."

The others seemed to agree. Coric himself also agreed.

With how much their kih'vod had been reacting to stressors, it really might ease his mind if he saw that they were on the right track to getting him fixed up.

The warning they'd been given by the Master Archivist and Healer still rang fresh in their mind. And, knowing that something so small like a frog could easily die from complications due to stress, keeping Dogma's anxiety to a minimum was a must.

The Jedi knowing something, even if it was just some kind of a anecdotal tale, might get him to ease up a little.

And thus their trek back towards the barracks was a little noisier than they intended it to be. In spite of that, no one would fault them for their sudden boisterousness. After Dogma, the medics had all been just as tense about this whole ordeal as the transformed trooper himself was. If not more so, due to the enormous responsibility that fell upon their shoulders.

Waking up a few brothers in the process of retrieving the little frog trooper from his safe spot in the terrarium, would not be too bad in the grand scheme of things.

Only, there was just one itty bitty little problem with this. Dogma was nowhere to be seen. The terrarium they'd built for him with so much love and care, was noticeably uninhabited.

"Ok very funny, who took him?!" Sponge whipped around and glared accusingly towards the bunks, while Kix went to turn on the lights before dashing over to the terrarium they'd all helped construct to keep Dogma safe and happy.

All around them resting vode began to rouse from their fitful slumber with loud complaints and angry grumbles. Some either sat up to glare back at the cantankerous medic, or simply turned away and hid their head beneath their pillows and blankets to shield themselves from the assault of light and noise.

No one answered the question. Which only aggravated Sponge even further.

"Quit moaning about getting your beauty sleep interrupted! Which of you di'kuts took Dogma?!" Sponge barked back. Impatient and clearly displeased with what they assumed was a prank in bad taste.

"What are you talking about...? No one took Dogma..." Fives rubbed at his eyes as he sat up sleepily. Echo sitting up slowly beside him and looking somewhat dazed from being woken up so rudely.

"Oh really?" Sponge growled, flashing their teeth at the ARC trooper with the goatee and numeral tattoo. "Then why the hell is his tank empty?!"

At this, the others began to shake off the drowsiness to look towards the terrarium for confirmation of their statement.

Coric and Kix were both pulling a few of the decorations aside to see if maybe the aforementioned frog hadn't just hidden under them to rest somewhere quieter. When they still ended up empty handed, their concern only doubled.

Pinched expressions and tense body language evidence enough that Sponge wasn't just picking a fight out of general crabbiness. Not that they were prone to just randomly start things in the middle of the night. The others just couldn't be too sure of how stable their mood was when they were so clearly stressed out with worry.

Jesse and Hardcase both hopped out of their own bunks and moved over to help. They seemed just as confused and worried as the senior medics. And not without reason.

"That's... He was right there when we went to sleep..." The usually hyperactive heavy-gunner commented aloud while looking at the tank. He seemed utterly perplexed by this unexpected situation. "I remember giving him a little cricket and everything just before calling it a night..."

"He can't just have vanished!" Sponge huffed and puffed as they watched other clones begin to join the frantic search.

They were all looking under bunks and behind trunks, upturning anything that may hide a small critter. All trying to figure out where their now-amphibious brother had gone to while they'd been sound asleep.

Tup (who had yet to say anything) slowly crept out of his bunk to join the group surrounding the terrarium, but paused when his bare foot touched something slightly moist that sent a cold jolt up his leg and spine.

Looking down, the long haired trooper noticed a small trail of mud leading from the base of the table where the terrarium sat, to a vent that had wide enough bars that something small like a rat or a frog might be able to pass through.

Putting 2 and 2 together, he quickly realized what this meant.

"Dogma!" At his cry of alarm, every other trooper in the barracks (and Ahsoka) turned to look at Tup. Seeing how he ran over towards the wall and crouched in front of the vent in an attempt to peer inside into the vast darkness within its confines.

Exchanging knowing glances, no one had to say anything more on the matter. The captain held up his comm and began barking out orders to whomever had been assigned the night shifts. The base would be on indefinite lock-down until they could locate and safely retrieve their wayward vod.

Starting with figuring out where that vent might lead to, which might require some extra help from someone who could give them that kind of information...

-

Fox was not having a good night.

An understatement, as it was rare that he ever got a good night at all. But this particular one was certainly one among many that left him feeling surlier than usual. Mostly because it had been too quiet, and that often heralded trouble for him and his Guard.

And then, of course, he'd gotten cosmic confirmation that his paranoia was not uncalled for, in the form of a call from a certain someone who only ever remembered he existed whenever he needed a favour or two.

Rarely did he ever get to have normal social calls that didn't involve some kind of shenanigans orchestrated by his blond kih'vod'ika...

"Slow down Rex." Pinching the bridge of his nose, the marshal commander of the Guard took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice level.

As much as he hated the recent indifference his batch had shown him in terms of staying up to date on communications, he didn't need to take it out on his vod'ika who did stop to ask him how he was doing whenever he had to drag one of his men out of the Drunk Tank by the ear.

Fox knew better than to push away one of the few GAR boys that still cared enough to make polite idle chatter with him. Even if the little sheb'ika came to him with some of the weirdest requests he'd ever heard in his entire service record. And little gods only knew how many weird requests Rex had come up with, since he'd become Skywalker's second in command.

Not even a a promotion in sight and the kid was somehow doing better in terms of reputation than the actual clone commander of the 501st...

It did mean Fox interacted less with his general however, which was a pro in all of his books rather than a con, no matter how demeaning he thought it might be for his vod to be reduced to an errand boy or pet fool. Skywalker was nothing short of insufferable (and a liability) after all, and Fox preferred to avoid him like the plague.

"What's this about ventilation blueprints?" Fox ran a hand over his cropper hair, having only just had the time to shave and bleach it prior to preparing to get it dyed. He was thinking a nice teal to contrast all the blood red he had to see on the daily. Be it his paint or a suspicious amount of actual blood on his person, that he couldn't quite (nor wanted to) account for. "Hm... A frog...? Uh, depends... Some of the vents on this planet are older than the actual levels themselves and have their own very rudimentary self-maintenance systems... If your boys lost a pet in there, it's probably already been turned into minced meat..."

He winced slightly as his ears got bombarded.

"I said probably, not definitely. I don't know if your boys or the natborn officers that should be manning the GAR, actually set the vents to clean up regularly enough that.... Oh... Yeah uh, you should look into that then. You really do not want anything hazardous to actually climb out of tho-- Alright, alright! Just take a deep breath vod'ika, you sound like you're going to have an aneurysm over the comm..." Fox began to pace around his office as he continued to listen to his younger brother prattle on about a missing pet frog or whatever this was.

He sounded far too distressed over something so trivial like that.

Sometimes people (and many a clueless rookies) just lost their pets on Coruscant (it was far too common an issue with Senators even, which wouldn't be so bad if not for the fact some of them had very exotic and dangerous preferences).

Heck, Fox himself had lost a tooka he'd taken in a while back. Then again, for all he knew it had just moved on to the next sod who'd fed it more consistently. Touché Mr Socks...

"Look, maybe it wandered into the vents and got out before hopping off or whatever it is frogs do..." The commander sat down on the chair his men had gifted him. It was an armchair, rather than an office chair, soiled by years of use and weeks of being out in the curb. But the Guard had made due with what little they could salvage and, despite it's hideously stained appearance, it was actually quite comfortable and clean. "This entire planet's infrastructure has vents inside of vents inside of vents. Even if I gave you blueprints for the GAR headquarters's ventilation system and all its maintenance shafts, you would still never find-- What do you mean hang on?! Vod'ika I'm bus--Oh don't give me that attitude! Fine I'll hold on..."

Tapping his fingers impatiently against his desk, Fox waited for Rex to return. Being put on hold over a frog seemed incredibly silly (not to mention downright insulting). It was still better than attending to one of Orn Free Taa's long-winded speech practice sessions. Taking the call had at least gotten him a way to weasel out of THAT indignity...

He stopped tapping once he heard Rex's voice again. This time he couldn't keep the irritation out of his own voice.

"What do you mean you're coming to pick me up?!" Hand running down his face, Fox groaned. "Why do I even put up with you...?"

He stared blankly as he got a reply to his question.

"....'Because I love you' is NOT an answer, you absolute miserable pain in the shebs!" He hissed into the comm as he hung up, wasting no time to collect his bucket and march out of his office. Much to the confusion of everyone else he passed by. He might as well go outside before the damned gremlin showed up to drag him into whatever misadventure he'd conjured up this time.

Cody would rue the day he ever took pity on the little CT that he'd found out in the rain, looking like a pathetic sopping wet womp rat.

Fox would make sure of it, one way or another...

It turned out to be a good decision to leave ahead of time because his vod'ika was not alone. And (taking stock of who was with him) Fox doubted the group he was with would be greeted with open arms by any of the veterans of the Guard.

Everyone who'd ever worked the detainment shift had a list with photos of repeat offenders, and there were at least three faces in the crowd that were usuals at the Drunk Tank.

It almost made him turn around, march up back into the Guard headquarters, and lock the door behind him. Almost.

Sadly he doubted that whatever Rex (and the rest of his ragtag team of rabble-rousers) was up to, could go unsupervised. It was common knowledge at this point that whenever that particular shade of blue shell was anywhere outside of the GAR's facilities, that it usually ended in quite a few calls from grouchy civilians that weren't particularly grateful for the clone army's services.

It fell upon him and his commanders to make sure the 501st didn't make every single clone a target of hatred due to their carelessness while on leave.

Which is what kept Fox from fleeing for his sanity.

"What is this?" He cut to the chase, leveling the captain with a stern glare beneath his bucket. One he knew for sure Rex could guess was being cast his way, from being raised alongside Fox's batch. "It's well past GAR curfew."

"I'm well aware commander." Rex responded calmly. He'd managed to compose himself on the way. Good. He didn't much feel like dealing with his fellow bottle blond while he was a bundle of nerves. "But I do have a good reason."

"Ah." The marshal commander crossed his arms behind his back, regarding the 501st captain with some disdain. He wouldn't call whatever this was a good reason. At least not from what little he knew of what actually was going on. "Do clarify why requesting documents that are not entirely free to the public, specifically to rescue a pet frog, would be considered a good reason? Or a reasonable waste of my time? I was in the middle of Senate duty."

He wasn't about to admit he'd been dying to find a reason to ditch Senator Taa. He couldn't give all his cards away or express gratitude. Rex, sneaky bastard that he was, would try to cash in on that favour later if he knew. His vod'ika had learned from the best after all...

"That's the thing... He's not a pet frog. Or a frog... A real frog I mean." Rex tried to explain, only for one of his men (a medic, if the symbol on his pauldron was anything to go by) to step in and interject.

"What the captain means, commander Fox sir, is that there was an incident this morning concerning one of the 501st's newest sergeants." The bald medic (there were a lot of medics in the group now that he was looking at them) with the faint scar over his left eye, stated calmly. "We are not entirely sure how this happened, and we are assuming that it has to do with the Force itself experiencing some kind of a 'glitch'... But, to put things simply, our man was transformed into a frog."

"I know it sounds strange, and insane, but when you work with the Jetii you grow used to strange nonsense involving the Force." Rex continued after nodding gratefully at the medic. "Either way, I wouldn't have bothered you over a lost pet. But, as this isn't a pet..."

"Maker give me patience..." Fox shook his head in disbelief. Ok, a trooper had been turned into a frog by 'Force Osik'. That made a little more sense as to why he'd be called in to help. He supposed. "And you think he's still in the vents?"

"Well... We're not sure?" One of the other medics, this one looking younger than the rest of the group (with some rather garishly decorated armour to boot), admitted. "I mean... He couldn't have gone far, but then we have no idea why or when he left..."

"Yeah, I mean, we even built him a terrarium that was absolutely frog heaven. And we gave him lots of food, and whatever a frog might need to thrive like the generals told us to!" Another trooper, Jesse (one of the Drunk Tank usuals), pointed out. "If I was a frog, I wouldn't have wanted to leave all of that to go into some dirty vent..."

"Yeah same! Seems kind of like a downgrade to me..." Fives (another Drunk Tank usual), agreed with a nod. "Makes no sense..."

Fox stared at the two with an incredulous look that they couldn't see, but the way he slowly turned his head should be more than indicative of the mood. That said, he doubted they could sense the amount of disgust he felt at their obliviousness. What truly bothered him about this situation, is that the rest of the group didn't seem to be seeing the same glaring issue that he had no trouble zeroing in on.

"You're kidding right...?" Dropping the decorum, Fox stared (really stared) at them all with nothing short of barely contained anger. Foot tapping away on duracreet, as he tried to keep himself from shaking any of them until they heard their own idiotic words rattle inside their thick skulls.

"Uh?" Fives blinked, surprised at his curt response.

"A downgrade? Makes no sense?" Fox shook his head. "Look, if what you said is true and your sergeant turned into a frog, then I'm pretty sure he ran into the vents because he felt belittled."

"Belittled...?" The bald medic's brows furrowed slightly. He exchanged a look with the others, some of which seemed to slowly grasp what it was Fox was getting at. Good, there was hope for some of these men yet...

"If you woke up one day as a frog and you were put on display and fed like a pet for everyone to see, would you not feel demeaned in any way?" He carried on, putting as much resentment and disapproval into his words as possible.

In reality he (and the rest of his men) could relate with this situation far too easily. It disturbed him that the 501st had grown far too comfortable in the presence of natborn officers and Jetii alike, that filled their heads with empty promises. Grown so comfortable with people that didn't care for clones other than how they could be useful to them, that they'd forgotten what it was like to be regarded as anything but what they were:

Owned property.

Clones with no rights and no legal representative in the Senate, or public acknowledgement of their obvious sentience. Holding the same sort of value as a well trained massiff or (if you were unlucky enough to catch someone's eye) a very fancy show bantha to be displayed.

The idea of suddenly having your form changed into something that could be easily lorded over by others, and have no means of communicating your distress to anyone but yourself? Fox knew that feeling all to well as well... Sans the transformation part, of course. He was no stranger to having the rights he did not legally have, so terribly violated by someone much more powerful and so heedlessly loved by hundreds of millions.

That was his life as marshal commander. Suffering so that no one else he cared for had to.

"We were just trying to look after him..." Interposed the medic with the intricate lightning bolt buzz and fade "When we couldn't figure out what to make of Dogma's situation, we sought help from the Jedi Temple and were told to be mindful of his needs as a frog. We even researched what to do to fulfill those needs."

"Yes, and while it's admirable that you took charge and went to someone more qualified to deal with the issue, it doesn't erase the fact you might have gotten a little carried away in your care." Fox pointed out, watching the medic's face fall slightly. "Even with good intentions, it would feel fairly dehumanizing to be put into a situation like this. Having all your agency taken from you by people you should be able to trust in."

One by one, each of the 501st vode seemed to at last fully understand what he was telling them. Their expressions slowly changing into concerned frowns as they likely began assessing their last few interactions with the aforementioned sergeant. And, like a light suddenly cast in shadow, their previous missteps finally became painfully clear to them.

In all their worrying over trying to keep Dogma from stressing himself to death, they'd indeed gotten too caught up in treating him like you'd treat one of the frogs he had become.

They never even considered what he might feel about that.

"It's like with what happened at the zoo..." The second ARC trooper, the one with the hand print on his chest plate, muttered to no one in particular. "When Fives said that the frog in the tank reminded him of Dogma because it looked so grouchy..."

"It was a harmless joke to the rest of us, but he didn't see it as that." The younger medic nodded, seeming to know what the ARC was talking about. "And he took it to heart because every time someone makes a joke about him, it's not usually lighthearted..."

"No, usually people just make fun of him because they think it's funny to get a rise out of him..." Jesse looked away in shame, no doubt having been one of those people as well. From how his shoulders fell, Fox could at least tell he was genuinely regretful of that.

"We made a dumb joke, we laughed, and he overthought it to the point he skipped out on late meal and blocked out everyone who came check up on him..." Hardcase slowly curled his arms around himself and fidgeted uneasily as the guilt settled in. "Kriff, I think we've been looking at all his reactions wrong... He was upset because we kept talking about him like he wasn't there, and instead of paying him mind we just ran about thinking we knew what was best for him..."

"You weren't thinking about what was best for Dogma." Rex shook his head, clearly a little mad at his troopers. Fox didn't fault him. He'd be just as furious if this had happened to his men instead. "You should have come to me and general Skywalker the moment all of this happened. I know you were doing what you thought was right, but if you'd have just come to either of us, we could have avoided this entire misunderstanding..."

They all fell into silence. Inwardly processing all of this to the best of their abilities. Then, the trooper with the tear drop decals and messy topknot gasped loudly.

"That's it!" He exclaimed, startling everyone else in the process. "I know where Dogma went!"

Rex turned to face the trooper, both surprised at his sudden exclamation, and curious as to what he might have in mind.

"Are you sure, Tup?" he asked.

"I know Dogma like the back of my hand, and that's exactly the problem. Because he wasn't acting like Dogma, I didn't pay enough attention because all of this just wasn't typical of him... Of my idea of him." Tup continued, wringing his hands together as he looked at the captain. "He gets stuck in his own head sometimes, withdraws and hides when he doesn't know what else to do. And it got worse after Umbara... But... Even in one of his stupors he would have gone where he thought he'd be needed. And since he's been turned into a frog..."

"The zoo!" The medic with little to no paint on them smacked their on face in frustration. "Haar'chak... That self-deprecating clever little sheb'ika..."

"Yeah..." Tup smiled sadly "We treated him like a frog, so he'll accept that's what he is now and go where you'd find that type of frog. Since he can't exactly pilot a ship to wherever these ones come from, the zoo is the next best option."

"Right." Fox carried on, crossing his arms once more behind his back as he watched the group. "Does this mean I get to go back to what I was doing?"

They all stared at him impassively. Wishful thinking on his part. He knew in truth that (considering the zoo was closed at this hour) he wouldn't just be able to go on with his night.

It was still worth a try to get the hell away from this gang of misfits.

"Very well... Lets go then. But you owe me big for this one, Rex..." The marshal commander of the Guard growled lowly, making sure to glare at his vod'ika who seemed entirely unfazed by his rising frustration. Brat.

"I always pay my debts ori'vod."

It takes them a few lift trips to get to their destination. Then only a few swift clicks and turns of the lock-picks Fox legally does not own on record. He has them for many very good reasons, but that is Guard business and not something to be discussed openly where the wrong person could hear.

If it bothers any of the 501st boys currently trailing him (his vod'ika included), they don't dare say it to his face. It's his particular set of skills and street smarts that are getting them this far anyway, and their silence and gratitude are expected as much as they are well deserved.

All savoir faire aside, he does make a note of how easy it is to break into the zoo's security system. It's a fairly rudimentary thing. Consisting of mostly manual locks and just a few cameras and ray-shields. Tubie grade toys that anyone can crack into, and that is clearly just there for show.

He supposes things might be different in the more exclusive areas that require a fair bit more credits to get to experience, but it is no less annoying to know someone could just waltz in and steal something like an exotic and highly venomous creature...

He already has enough issues controlling the feral runaway pet population on Coruscant. He doesn't need this as another potential problem to the ever expanding roster.

"There. Go in quickly and don't stall." He motioned for the group to carry on with their business. The quicker they found what they were looking for, the better. Best they not linger around for long.

"Thanks Fox... I really do owe you." Rex gave him a courteous nod as he let the others run on ahead.

"Yes you do, you little shit." A flick to the nose was the best he could do for now, but Fox was definitely going to cash in on that favour later. There were certain things the GAR could provide him after all, and the captain was in no position to deny him any requests of his own. Especially not after dragging him on this clown show. "Just don't let them make a mess in there. I'd rather not have to be called back here in the morning because your lot trashed the place..."

-

Dogma found it infinitely ironic how incredibly easy it had actually been to get as far as he did.

Coruscant (which was more of a maze planet than a city planet in his oh so humble opinion) was often fairly difficult for him to navigate on a good day, due to all of the constant foot and hover-transport traffic. No matter how much planning he did ahead of time, or how much attention he paid to street signs, he had always managed to get turned around and it had frustrated him to no end.

As a frog no bigger than a nerf patty, it should have been trice as difficult to get to his destination. And yet, somehow (perhaps by sheer will and determination), he'd managed to sneak out of the GAR headquarters, traverse the dank and dark Coruscanti streets, and then gotten into a locked up entertainment/educational facility.

Oh, and he had also climbed into an already occupied frog exhibit without distressing his new roommates too much. That had also been bewilderingly easy, and also indicative of very lazy security measures that he was fairly certain weren't up to standards.

Although, to be fair, he doubted any of the city levels were OSHA compliant with just how much more infrastructure had been added on over the years, rather than the governing forces opting to reclaim the sub-levels. Very few sentient beings alive right now had likely ever seen the absolute basement level of the planet itself. The Jedi likely included.

All thoughts of needlessly complicated architecture and standards of building aside, maybe the underwhelming nature of his trek was just how life as an animal generally went. Overly simplified with little to no nuances or stressful aggravation (aka the human condition), or obstacles of their own making.

Maybe Dogma just had to get used to going unchallenged, now that he was an insignificant little frog. An amphibious creature with little to no value, other than being something curious to gawk at from behind a glassy barrier. A mere tidbit of knowledge shared at a party as a random trivia fact.

His new "friends" seemed to live with that just fine.

That said, he yearned for something more fulfilling in his every day life than just to sit around looking as unsightly as he did right now. Like a game of high stakes dejarik (playing for shift swaps and favours was exhilarating, even if he knew he shouldn't encourage dishonest behaviors while on duty); a meaningful conversation about things he'd learned from the few holobooks he'd managed to read in the last couple of months (mostly encyclopedias with all kinds of useful knowledge, for a future he wished for but couldn't hope to ever have); or maybe even the closeness he no longer had with any of the vode he'd left behind (he yearned for a vodpile like a starving man lusted after a Braised Shaak Roast)...

He wondered if the other frogs ever felt that sort of itchy longing in their limited thinking span. Hard to tell when those beady little eyes of theirs glanced out at nothing with a sort of vague vacancy that inspired little to no level of intellect at all.

Honestly they were just regarding him as if he were another flat surface or other such fixture of their tank. New but familiar in a way that told them this was a normal addition to their little world, and nothing to really concern themselves with. Perhaps if he willed it enough, his consciousness would leave him faster and he'd be just as dense and carefree as them.

The frog instincts that had arisen in him through out the day and caused him so much trouble, had yet to fully set in and take his ability to think from him. As a result, the overwhelming fear he'd felt at that possibility was suddenly gone from his mind.

In fact, he felt somewhat impatient now. Left to wonder when exactly Dogma would seize to be, and the geometrically marked frog would finally take over.

Settling down upon a decorative piece of driftwood and watching the other inhabitants of the tank with a minimal degree of sadness, Dogma sighed to himself and lay as flat as he could on his pudgy little belly. The one that he'd filled up with way too much food prior to his departure from the familiarity of home base. Silently he pondered on the past few days he'd experienced before finding himself where he was now.

He was maybe even considering the sleep he'd denied himself for the sake of escaping, when a noise in the building startled him into the full alertness he was trained to rely on out in the field. The other frogs quickly took offense to the sound and dove into the water to find better hiding spots away from view. Their instincts telling them that a sharp noise not made by themselves, was often indicative of danger to be avoided.

Only Dogma stood his ground to investigate further. He was still thinking too much like a soldier, something he'd need to change soon if he wanted to fit in with the rest of his new kin. But that could wait a few more minutes.

The once proud clone trooper sat still, listening in on whatever was making such a racket in the middle of the night. Fully aware that no one would be inside the facility at this hour. No one that should be there at least...

The idea of a thief breaking into the zoo to steal some of the animals did cross his mind (although he doubted they'd be so bold as to try to take something like an oggdo).

The noises were steadily growing closer, becoming progressively louder as a result of proximity. Dogma could make out a lot of footfall, so it was most definitely a group rather than a singular individual. He couldn't, however, tell if they were speaking. Their running a bit too frantic to catch any potential voices.

And then the door on the far side of the room opened up, and he saw a flash of familiar white and blue. Wasting no time, he dove into the water himself and joined the other frogs in hiding. Unwilling to be seen by the very same people he'd been running away from.

What could they possibly be doing here at this time of night? More importantly, what could they possibly want from the zoo?

"Fives, do you see him in there?" Hardcase called out as he made his way towards the budgett's frog enclosure at a slower pace than the aforementioned ARC. Fives practically had his face pressed to the tank's glassy surface after bounding over to inspect it. But (from what Dogma could tell at least), he didn't seem to be able to see him in his hiding spot among the other frogs.

It didn't really surprise him. Hiding in groups was a classical tactic to avoid scrutiny from trainers, Kaminoans and upset superior officers alike. Employing the same strategy as a frog proved to be just as effective, since the color and size variations between them weren't too drastic.

That said, his mind began to fill with questions anew. They'd come out here to look for him? Why? Last he checked they didn't particularly care for him.

That said they had seemed fond enough of the idea to keep him as some kind of mascot, which was a thought that filled him with a modicum of bitterness. To think he was more likeable to them as this...

But how could they have known to come here to look for him? Was he that obvious, or was it something else? It had to be something else.

Maybe he'd left some kind of a trail without meaning to...

"All of the frogs are in the back hiding under stuff... I can't tell if he's in there with them..." Fives replied after squinting in silence for a few seconds. "I don't fancy my chances of poking them without getting bit..."

"It's not like they're venomous." Hardcase joined his side, and Dogma pressed himself further back, eyes focusing on the two troopers that were covering his view of whom else might be coming to check the tank. He squeaked in apology as he bumped into one of the other frogs, causing it to puff up slightly and stare menacingly at him. "Just lift that off and have a better look. A bite or two won't kill you!"

"If I mess with the exhibit, I'm pretty sure commander Fox will kill me." Fives winced. "I'll be on my knees getting executed Mafia style faster than you can say 'supercalifragilisticexpialidocious'..."

"...What the hell does that even mean?" Hardcase raised an eyebrow at the bizarre and rather long word. Funny, Dogma didn't peg Fives for the musical sort.

"It's just a fancy way of saying wonderful." Fives shrugged "Either way, I am not karking around with the exhibit. I value my life, thank you very much..."

"Yeah?" Tup huffed as he pushed past the two of them to look into the exhibit himself. "Well I value my twin's safety!"

"And Fox isn't going to execute you 'Mafia style', stop being dramatic..." The captain joined the trio. Looking all kinds of put-off by this situation. "Now help me pull that up to have a look. If he made it out here on his own, he's probably tired and we shouldn't overstay our welcome anyway..."

From his hiding spot, Dogma stood frozen in shock.

Tup was worried about him? Worried enough to come looking for him at all? It didn't make sense. Not with how distant he'd been lately... And he'd also been very unwilling to believe Dogma was still Dogma because he'd been acting like a frog (which, fair, if Tup had also eaten a live grub he might have thought his twin was possessed by some kind of bizarre insect-eating spirit).

Honestly he'd half expected to never see his batchmate ever again after tonight. He'd also assumed it would probably be good for the long haired trooper to not have a defective batcher holding him back anymore...

Well, not that he was doing that prior to being transformed into a frog. They hadn't been as close as they'd once been, especially after Umbara had happened. A little before that they had already begun to cross towards very different paths. Drifting apart ever so slightly as they tried to get accustomed to being a part of their new battalion (their new family, as Tup had put it).

The truth was that Dogma was entirely at fault for this. And he knew he was.

As a cadet he had always been bad at endearing himself to others. An issue that did not resolve itself as he grew older, no matter how hard he tried to follow his twin's advice on dealing with his awkwardness. Tup, on the other hand, was absolutely excellent with this particular subject matter. The social butterfly of the squad they'd been adopted into (because Acronym had also been somewhat shy, and both Bully and Jawbreaker stuck to each other more often than not).

Tup was just the kih'vod that everyone smiled at whenever they both walked into a room. In contrast, no one was ever excited to see Dogma. But they always lit up at the sight of their Tup'ika.

And that had undoubtedly both frightened him, and filled him with a tremendous jealousy that just would not go away, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that his feelings were irrational.

Deep down, he had always known that it was just a matter of time before his twin turned his back on him, and began hanging out with literally anyone else.

Hang out with vode that didn't dig their heels into the sand at the thought of being anything but compliant to the standards; who had better more interesting hobbies than keeping up to date on topics that bored others to near death; who weren't opposed to breaking the rules whenever they had little else to do; and who knew how to be absolutely comfortable in their own skins. Who were confident in their own senses of self.

Vode that were nothing at all like stiff killjoy boring Dogma...

The idea hurt more than any jeer or punch anyone ever threw at him, when he was still small enough that his control over his tantrums and crying fits was little to none. And it had also made him a little clingy and overprotective of his twin. Selfishly trying to insert himself into Tup's space, and hold up both his time and attention because he was too scared of losing his only friend.

Sithhells, he'd dragged him along on Umbara too. Nearly setting him on the same destructive path that had made Dogma so much of a detestable sight to the rest of their battalion. Fives's hateful glare and Jesse's snide remarks still oh so clear in his memory. But of course Tup had been smarter than him in the end. He'd made the right choice while Dogma had allowed himself to be played for a fool. He'd dug his own grave and made himself dar'vod.

If anyone had a reason to leave him to this froggy fate of his, and not look back, it was certainly Tup who'd suffered through years of Dogma's self-centered nonsense. Because Dogma was a limpet stuck to his side all their relatively short lives, and wouldn't it be better to just not have a blood-sucking parasite leeching off of him for a change?

Knowing all this, his tube-twin's presence and obvious concern really made little to no sense at all. It was frustrating how other people rarely made sense.

"We can't just... Look these things get stressed easy! And if they die on our watch we're all screwed big time." Fives continued. "I really don't want to be on the marshal commander's shit list... I hear he kicks harder than even commander Cody... And commander Cody can kick the head off of a B2 like it's nothing!"

"I'm not gonna break anything, and I'm not gonna mess with the frogs." Tup settled Fives with a stern glare. "If it was Echo in his place, would you hesitate to do look for him if he'd run off because everyone else acted like shabuirs without noticing?"

"I... Of course not." At that the ARC backed off, seeming taken aback. He'd likely not thought about it from that angle. "Fine... Here let me just..."

Dogma pressed himself flat against the tank wall and turned away so he wouldn't be facing the other troopers. As much as Tup being here (any of them being here actually) made his little heart flutter with something akin to hope that maybe (just maybe), someone did tolerate him enough to want him back, he couldn't go back on his decision now. This is where he belonged.

They had to understand that! He was no good to them like this!

He closed his eyes tightly as he heard something move above his head, and promptly ignored the angry startled shrieks of the other frogs who were now pushing into him as they puffed up and screamed at the intruders.

His tattoo would make him easily identifiable among the riled up crowd. If they couldn't see it, they wouldn't know it was him. And then maybe they'd just give up and leave before they actually broke something and got into trouble for it. He didn't want them getting into trouble because of him.

"You know...All the grumpiness and dying loth-cat noises aside, they're not as ugly as I thought they were..." He heard Fives comment as he probably stared at all the upset frogs currently screaming their heads off at them. "They're like... It's like Echo said. They're ugly cute. Like naked voorpaks."

"He's gonna be all smug that you agree with him as soon as he finds out that you changed your mind~" Hardcase purred in that pleased sing-song kind of way that always got everyone else groaning with exasperation. His 'up-to-no-good' voice as Dogma liked to call it, because he usually was up to shenanigans whenever he employed it.

"That's why Echo isn't going to find out." Fives retorted.

"Too late, I could hear you from way over there with how much your voice carries in this place." Dogma assumed that was Echo and, even though he was turned away from them, he could tell the ARC was likely smirking smugly as Hardcase had suggested.

Everyone had probably surrounded the tank by now with just how loud the other frogs were getting. He laid down flatter in an attempt to both better hide from their gaze, and to try to drown out the unbearable cacophony that was making his inner-ears ring.

Please, if there really was some kind of a merciful god or entity out there, let it have some kind of sympathy for him. Let it make his brothers give up and just leave him be, so that he could get on with this new life of his.

But of course, if there really was such a higher being out there, it did not grace him at all with anything but disdain.

"Dogma... Dogma I see you." Tup sounded relieved. "You're in the back playing possum."

"Uh, you sure it's him?" He wasn't sure who was asking and he didn't dare turn around to confirm Tup's guess.

"Well, from what Coric, Kix, Pitch, Twitch and Sponge read up on, these frogs are incredibly aggressive and are responding to us as they would in the wild." Dogma cursed himself as he listened in on Tup's logic. He hadn't thought that him playing it cool might be a little suspicious. Now that he thought about it, it made sense that he was never very good at playing games like hide and seek. He was bad at concealing himself in general. "Dogma only freaked out whenever anyone said something he didn't like, or when anyone tried to grab him unexpectedly..."

"Like when Pitch suggested making a terrarium to put him in, or when Sponge grabbed him from behind where he couldn't see their hands." Twitch, because it could only be Twitch with how incredibly chipper he seemed about this, added to confirm Tup's suspicions.

"Dogma wouldn't want to bring attention to himself, so he'd just stay still and try to hide in plain sight." Tup carried on. "Which, because he's not acting like everyone else, only brings attention to him."

He couldn't help but let out a low hiss as he looked up at the group with what he hoped was an angry glare. Annoyed at his predictability, his obvious mistake, and the fact that somehow his twin had still been able to get a read on him and his finicky nature even as a frog.

Tup's eyes only lit up the moment he caught sight of his tattoo.

"I knew it." He smiled a clearly pleased smile, which only elicited another low hiss from Dogma. "Sorry vod'ika, but I just know you too well."

He shrieked in protest, flashing the few sharp teeth he had to show just how peeved he was. Yes, Tup had gotten it right, but that didn't mean he'd go with them willingly. For as much as he claimed he knew him well, Tup seemed to not understand that Dogma didn't want to be some kind of battalion mascot.

At that Tup's smile fell.

"I mean that in a good way Dogma... If I didn't know you as well as I do, we might have never found you." the teardrop tattooed trooper's tone became less affable and a little more saddened in response to his negative reaction.

"He's right you know... We wouldn't have thought to look for you here." Echo stepped a little closer to the tank, stopping only when Dogma turned to hiss at him as well. The ARC seemed to understand he didn't want them to come any closer than they already had, so he backed away once more to appease him. "I guess we deserve that... We've been causing you a lot of grief recently..."

Fives, Jesse and Hardcase nodded in agreement, a look of regret on their faces as they fidgeted and fiddled uncomfortably in place. Seeming unsure of what to do with themselves at the moment, while the medics looked down at their own feet in shame.

It made Dogma pause in his aggressive display, regarding them with slight curiosity.

"We haven't been very good brothers to you..." Rex spoke up, eyes sad as he carefully held the hollow log he'd removed from the enclosure. It felt like a long time since he'd actually spoken to his captain. How long had it been? Since he'd gotten sick, maybe? "I haven't been a very good older brother at least. I let something like this slip under my nose, and I can't tell you how sorry I am that I wasn't there to give you a hand."

"We're all very sorry." Coric added. "We were so afraid of causing you any distress that we went a little overboard with generals Nu and Che's advice. We knew you weren't really a frog, and we shouldn't have assumed that treating you like one was the better thing to do."

No, it hadn't. If anything, it had made him feel downright awful. Especially when they ignored his desperate cries of disapproval. And assumed they knew how he'd been feeling, when they'd gotten it completely wrong...

Dogma let out a softer croak and turned away slightly. Even if they were sorry, he was still angry at them. He'd likely be angry for a long time too.

Tup sighed and then took a deep breath. Presumably to collect his thoughts before speaking up again. He seemed determined.

"I'm not sorry about the frog thing..."

At that, Dogma turned back around sharply to stare at his twin in surprise. The others seemed just as startled by his affirmation, staring at him in question.

"Tup...?" Fives gawked.

"I'm not sorry that Dogma got screwed over by the Force." Tup continued defiantly. "It sucks yeah. But..."

He sighed again, running a hand over his hair and tugging on the hair-tie that was barely holding the sloppily pulled up top-knot. His locks falling over onto his shoulder in a messy tangle of knots.

Usually Tup looked well put together appearance wise. He'd always been rather vain, which meant he put a lot of work into being presentable for any occasion. Seeing him like this was a bit of a shock, and indicated to Dogma that his twin had a lot on his mind. Enough so that he'd neglected his hair-care routine.

"Things happen for a reason, right...? At least that's what the Jedi say whenever something goes wrong..." The more sensitive of the group carried on in his explanation. Seeming a little unsure of his own words at first, before shaking away his doubts and continuing strong once he managed to make sense of things. "Maybe the Force saw that we weren't doing good by Dogma and thought we needed to try harder."

Dogma blinked slowly as he watched his twin. Tup stared back at him with clear sadness.

"We still messed it all up, anyway..." Tup's frown deepened. His eyes were a little shiny from unshed tears. "I messed up and now you don't want to come back home, do you...?"

Dogma's eyes widened. How had Tup messed up? If anything, Dogma had been the one ruining everything since day one! From Kamino to Umbara to this very zoo.

None of this was Tup's fault in the slightest!

"I promised I'd still protect you once we left Kamino, and then I let you down..." Tup gulped noisily as he tried to fight back tears. His ori'vod had always been a crier. Even now as a capable soldier he couldn't control how emotional he got. "I should have included you more whenever I wanted to do something new, now that we didn't have to worry about bullies and trainers and all those assholes that kept tormenting us growing up. I should have seen you were struggling with integrating into the 501st, because everything was so different from what we were used to and you didn't feel safe. I sh-should have known K-Krell was using your loyalty against you from the mo-moment he kept assigning you tasks a-away from the rest of us... I sh-should have t-t-tried to reach out to you w-when you were st-struggling to figure out who to t-trust... I sh-sh-should have n-n-never pointed my bl-blaster at you w-when you were co-confused and af-afraid... I..."

Dogma squeaked in distress as Tup began to openly cry while he recounted his perceived missteps.

No, no no no no! None of that had been his fault!

He moved away from the other frogs, shoving past them rudely to get closer to the glass. Closer to Tup. To his crying batchmate. His only batchmate.

"I... I'm so sorry M'ika..." Tup sniffled, reaching into the tank to pick him up. Dogma didn't hesitate to climb into his hands, croaking softly in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "I shouldn't have j-just left you on your o-own after Umbara! I wanted to talk to you b-but I was so ashamed! I b-broke my promise and m-made a mess of everything! Bully and Jawbreaker are g-gonna be so disappointed! A-Acronym would be s-so disappointment!"

Croaking softly up at Tup, Dogma felt his own eyes begin to sting.

It was odd, because frogs couldn't really cry in the same way as people did. But he still felt the burning itch of tear ducts reacting to his emotional distress. And seeing Tup so wracked with misplaced guilt was definitely making him want to cry as well.

It was awful that he couldn't reassure him. Couldn't tell him that, no, he hadn't done anything wrong.

Umbara had been rough on all of them, and Dogma had deserved to be left to his own devices away from the brothers he'd hurt. Deserved to be tasked with the herculean chore of earning back trust and forgiveness, that everyone else was free to choose whether or not to give him.

Tup had done well not associating with the likes of him, even if it had hurt deeply that he'd done so wrong that even his twin shunned him. He hadn't broken his promise. At least not in Dogma's eyes.

Carefully placing one clumsy hand on Tup's left wrist, Dogma croaked up at his twin again as he tried to reach with his free hand. Maybe if he braced himself he could stand up and try to wipe some of the stray tears running down his brother's face?

He grunted in slight irritation as his attempt ended with him flopping uselessly onto his back, rotund belly up and useless limbs kicking about as he flipped himself back onto his stomach.

The stuffy gross snort that followed his clumsiness made him stare back up at Tup, slightly insulted.

"S-sorry... That was kinda funny." At least he had the decency to apologize for laughing. The others were trying to cover up their amusement and failing badly at it, which only elicited more angry hisses from him. "S-some things never change... Even when you're the one who should be upset with me, you still go out of your way to try to make me feel better instead."

Dogma huffed, vocal sack inflating slightly in the same way his chest would puff up at hearing something so obviously absurd. Of course he'd try to make his twin feel better! What else would he have done?

Since he couldn't wipe his brother's tears from his face, he opted with trying to pat his wrist. The awkward little wet slapping noises were a little aggravating, but not the worst sound he'd made so far. And it seemed to do the trick.

Tup smiled softly and raised him up slightly closer to his face.

"What would I do without you? Maker only knows you're the expert crybaby wrangler around here..."

There was a lot Tup could do without him honestly. But... Maybe he didn't have to?

Looking around at the present group, it occurred to Dogma that everyone had gone out of their way to look for him in the middle of the night past standard GAR curfew. And to apologize for hurting his feelings no less.

Even Fives, Jesse and Hardcase who'd openly mocked him before, all seemed incredibly relieved that he was safe and sound and not lost to them at all. Had he perhaps misconstrued what they thought of him this entire time?

It did seem like the likely conclusion.

He'd mistakenly believed Tup's avoidant behaviour to be something it had not been, so maybe the other day at the zoo was a misunderstanding as well...? And then Fives had been trying to apologize during early meal, hadn't he? Before Dogma had thrown up all over him, that is?

He felt a little dumb now that he thought about this with a much clearer head. He croaked up at them in embarrassment.

"As touching as this is, we should really get going." Rex pointed out as he glanced towards his comm unit. Probably looking at the current time on the chrono feature. "Fox is trusting us to not mess anything up, and I'd rather not disappoint him. Otherwise Fives's dramatics might actually become a reality, and he'll hunt us down one by one for giving him more problems to deal with in the morning..."

"Right, we should uh, put these back in." Fives agreed, moving over to help put the decorations he and Rex had pulled out of the exhibit. Placing them back into their rightful and proper place. Much to the relief of the frogs they'd upset.

As they did so, Tup brought Dogma closer so that he could bump their foreheads in a slightly disproportionate kedalbe. Leaning into the touch, the frog trooper sighed contentedly and closed his eyes to relish in the warmth and love he could feel radiating off his closest brother. His best friend...

Only to suddenly find himself and his twin sprawled out on the floor in a tangle of flailing limbs and startled yelps.

"AUGHCK!!!" Tup gasped as he was pinned under the full weight of a very human Dogma, who was left coughing and spluttering from the sudden shock of finding himself transformed back in a quick flash.

No horrifying flesh-melting and nightmare-inducing sequence required.

"Holy shit! He changed back!" Hardcase gasped in amazement, watching his two kih'vode struggling on the ground with wide eyes.

"Aaaaaand he's naked." Jesse covered his mouth. Both to try to hide his shock, and to stop himself from saying anything else that might make things any more awkward than they already were.

"I mean..." Twitch winced, looking at the others with a bewildered expression. "We weren't really uh, expecting him to change back and grow a set of brand-new clothes... Right...?"

"That'd be creepy... But I am more concerned as to how and why he just changed back." Sponge shrugged, accepting that Twitch was right and they shouldn't have expected anything else. "We never even went to the generals to see what they'd found out..."

Dogma shook the disorientation off and slowly took stock of himself before fully sitting up. He was practically on Tup's lap, having suddenly changed back while still in his brother's cupped up hands. Thankfully neither of them were injured from the experience.

He also noted the odd chill he felt, which gave him goose flesh that made him shudder ever so slightly. Glancing down and finally registering his brothers's words, his eyes widened and he immediately tried to hide his shame by crossing his legs and placing his arms in front of his modesty.

"Why me...?" he whined pitifully as he tried to desperately ignore the heat overtaking his face and ears. His own voice felt almost foreign to his ears. It had, after all, been a while since he'd last been able to speak at all.

"Oh, hey don't cover up on our account little brother! We've all seen what you're packing in the mirror!" Hardcase grinned, attempting to lighten the mood with good humor.

"That's not overly helpful..." Dogma shot back, clear annoyance plastered on his flushed face. This time there was no room for misinterpreting his state of mind.

"Or a welcome or appropriate comment..." Sponge hissed in disgust, clearly finding Hardcase's joke to be a little too crass for their taste.

Rex rolled his eyes and approached the younger set of twins, helping them both up onto their feet before tapping his chin in thought. He seemed to be worried about the same glaringly obvious issue, that Dogma was dreading to have to soon face.

"Alright... How are we sneaking a very nude clone into the GAR headquarters, without someone calling CorSec on us for streaking...?" The blond captain asked, only to be met with absolute silence on everyone else's part. "... You know, as much of a privilege as it is to work with the Jedi, I really hate getting caught up in Force Osik..."

-

A nice steamy hot shower had never been more welcomed in Dogma's fleetingly short life. More so after the absolute roller-coaster of emotions he'd been put through that excruciatingly long day, due to circumstances they all still didn't quite understand (and they had consulted the generals too, which just gave them a brief notion of something about testing bonds and true love's kiss coming in all shapes and sizes, whatever that meant).

Between the stresses of being rendered a diminutive creature that could neither speak or move around in a very coordinated fashion, and also falling prey to instincts that had been very against Dogma's actual nature, he certainly deserve the few extra minutes he'd spent under the warm spray. He wasn't one to overly indulge or hog the hot water privileges, but for once he thought to treat himself since there was really no one else around at this time of night who'd even need to wash up.

After his 15 cheeky minutes (5 more than his usual, he'd been feeling generous) were up, he turned off the shower and quietly padded towards the bench where he'd left his towels and clean body-glove.

One towel was swiftly wrapped around his midsection. The other was put to use vigorously drying his hair. And while Dogma busied himself with that, he couldn't help but to hum in delight at the soft texture of the pristine fabric. The towels he'd picked up from Requesitions were still fairly new, so they hadn't become the unpleasantly rough rags that most clones often had to contend with during shower time.

And he really, really, hated the feeling of those warn out towels. It was like taking sandpaper to his entire body, and it often left him feeling itchy and irritated. Chafed skin was a right pain in the shebs to deal with, especially when you had to wear a full body garment like the body-gloves.

Thoughts of unpleasant textures and damaged skin aside, the clone sergeant sighed contentedly. He felt refreshed and relaxed. It took him very little time to dress himself and even less to give himself a once-over on the mirror.

He was human again. That was a great comfort to him. And to the vode currently waiting for him.

Storing his hygiene kit away in his locker, and putting the used towels in the bins that would be taken to be washed in the morning, Dogma calmly retreated out of the showers and made his way towards the barracks.

The halls were empty of any foot-traffic as was to be expected at this particular time. The only movement really being that of himself, and a few mouse droids that were going about their own business. It was perfectly peaceful and he was grateful for that. He didn't need any more excitement after everything that had happened. At least not for a good long while...

As he crossed the threshold separating the halls from the barracks, he was met with a welcoming sight.

"There you are, Dogma!" Tup greeted him enthusiastically from where he was currently standing, motioning for him to move over. "Come help me sort this blanket out, I can't get it to sit right!"

Dogma rolled his eyes as he approached, passing by other brothers who were currently preoccupied with their own parts of the 'projects' they'd decided to construct.

He stood opposite to Tup and took hold of part of the blanket.

"That's because you're not tucking the corners right." He pointed out as he began to tuck his side of the blanket beneath the mattress of the top bunk. The way he was doing it made it drape over the bunks like a curtain. "Here, like this it won't stick out oddly..."

"You're usually the one who does it..." Tup shrugged, kneeling down so he could begin tossing pillows into the bottom bunk and the mattress laid out in front of it.

"Because I do it right. Honestly, a blanket fortress that's poorly constructed won't offer much comfort or privacy." He huffed, before stepping back to admire his handywork. "Are Echo and Fives back with the pilfered snacks yet?"

"It's not pilfering if you skipped all of four meals!" Tup grinned.

"I technically ate late meal, so it was actually only three..." Dogma pointed out before sitting down on the bunk. With all the extra padding and blankets it felt like laying on a field of cotton.

Or perhaps a fluffy cloud? Whatever the case, it felt nice.

"They're on their way." Jesse sat down next to Dogma, holopad in hand. "And the holo's nearly done downloading."

"Fives said this one's good! Something about a creche master lady that's taking care of a rich senator guy's younglings, and lots of singing and fantastical shenanigans." Hardcase jumped up onto the bunk, knocking into Jesse who subsequently bumped into Dogma.

Both scowled at him but readjusted their positions so they could sit more comfortably.

"Sounds interesting." Tup smiled lazily as he too joined the trio on the bunk. He wrapped an arm around Dogma's shoulder, pulling him closer so that he could rest his head against the crook of his neck.

He found himself leaning into the touch with a pleased sigh.

All around them several vode sorted out their own blanket fortresses and the likes to settle into mini vodpiles. Some already had snacks that they'd been stashing for one such occasion. Others had holos they were being lulled to sleep by. Comfortable, warm and safe at home base. Away from the horrors of the field for another night.

Dogma even caught sight of the medics draped over each other in a corner, having set up a makeshift cot out of mattresses and pillows. They had been so exhausted that they'd just fallen asleep sprawled out. Kix and Coric curled up at the edges to form a protective barrier between the world and their younger siblings.

He could see Sponge snoring away while their barghest lay on their chest. A dark patch of drool steadily forming over where her jaws had contact with the body-glove. Twitch in turn, was pressed up between Sponge and Pitch, one hand tangled in Beautiful's fluff.

Dogma's gaze soon fell away from the resting medics and onto the one piece of evidence of that day's misadventure. He wondered what they'd be doing with the terrarium, since it wasn't like they needed it anymore. Honestly he really hoped they would just give it back to whomever had lent it in the first place, because no one needed any more incentive for Hardcase to beg for an actual battalion mascot.

And Dogma seriously did not want them to get a frog after he'd been one himself, even if it had been for only a singular day.

It would feel a little weird. More so than his lingering craving for insects that he really didn't want to mention to any of his brothers. At least not right now (and it wasn't like this was the worst side effect he could have ended up with after becoming an animal).

"The Snack Cavalry has arrived!" he looked away from the empty terrarium to glance over at Fives, snorting when Echo shoved him for the noisy entrance he'd made.

"There's people trying so sleep, you di'kut!" The more sensible of the Domino Twins hissed, making his way over towards their group's blanket fortress.

Feeling Tup chuckle at his side, and then seeing Jesse and Hardcase trying to hide their grins as they watched Fives make stupid faces behind Echo's back, Dogma couldn't help but feel completely at peace for the first time in ages.

This is where he belonged. Alongside his twin and the rest of the 501st. He wouldn't dare forget that anytime soon.

[drunk-on-dk]

[10:05 pm] | Kim Mingyu (m)

✦pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

✦genre: smut (minors do not even think ab reading below the cut)

✦wc: 956 words (rly tried to focus on making this a shorter drabble/timestamp)

✦summary: One look and Mingyu is addicted, his sinful desires leading him back to you every night.

✦warnings: no pronouns, but female anatomy used; reader wears a garter; unprotected sex (no mentions of wrapping it before tapping it, but u should); rough sweaty sex; nightclub worker; profanity; a lil fingering?; reader is called a doll & siren; a bit of a facial and cum eating; etc (pls let me know if i miss anything, i know i always accidentally leave things out)

Mingyu wasn’t one to indulge in sin, especially not repeatedly. However, he did indulge when it came to you, lusting over you becoming a nightly routine of his. He became greedy and gluttonous, constantly giving in to his desires.

Mingyu was quick to deny and cancel plans ever since he first found you. A celebratory drink after closing out a business deal at a dive bar became a visit to the local nightclub. You were one of those dancers caged in and placed on a pedestal like a little doll on display, untouchable to the crowd as you danced to the beat of whatever track was playing. A Go-Go dancer of sorts, glorified bottle server at best. Half of your job had been to pour shots down the throat of paying club-goers, dirty cash being shoved into the costume garter that clung tightly to your thigh.

Mingyu was absolutely entranced by you, eyes glued to your every move as you paraded throughout the club and served various groups of men who hooted and hollered your way. When you finally made your way over to Mingyu’s table, he realized you had him hooked around your tiny little finger. You were like a siren, pulling him in with every movement of yours.

Maybe that’s how Mingyu found himself back at this club almost every night of the week, just to have a lick of an interaction with you.

Although Mingyu radiated confidence, he was quite timid, pouty bottom lip jutting out as he glanced nervously around the club before spotting you. He’d find himself loosening up when you’d come by though, pretty eyes twinkling as you’d ask if he’d like a shot of whatever liquor you were carrying. Of course, he’d oblige, handing you the cash as your fingers delicately wrapped around his jaw, the slight pressure of your nails digging into the skin making his whole-body tingle as you opened his mouth. The second the alcohol would hit his tongue he felt euphoric, invincible, opening his eyes up to you staring down at him like a vixen as he gulped down the bitter liquid.

No one aroused him like you did, any movement you made had blood shooting right down to his dick. He’d have to refrain from palming himself for relief in the middle of the club, breathing heavily as he’d gulp down whatever beer he had ordered earlier in the night.

He almost thought it was shameful how much money he spent at this club, giving you copious amounts of cash each night as he’d yearn for your attention. However, it seemed to work in his favor when he ended up pressed tightly against you in the private rooms late one night. You must have lost yourself to your own desires as well, and Mingyu was proud of that. All the lingering touches as he’d hand you money had you giving into the dark stares that promised you pleasure.  

Now here he is, cock buried deep inside your cunt as he fucks you against the velvet walls of the powder room in the far back corner of club. Your two sweaty bodies pressed feverishly against each other, whilst his large hand covered your mouth to muffle your screams, pounding relentlessly into you and whiny moans slipping past his own lips as he desperately chased what he needed most.

You gripped onto him tightly as he hammered into you, pulling out far enough just so he can slam back into you, hitting you right in the spot that made the coil inside of you tighten and burn. Your makeup had to have been a mess, the smoky eyeliner trailing down your cheeks as you cried into Mingyu’s hand.

He’d love it though; pulling his hand away, thumb trailing your jaw over where your lipstick was smeared, just so he can slip two fingers into your mouth. Of course, you knew exactly what to do, sucking at his fingers as he groaned out, “fuck, you’re perfect, don’t know if I could find anyone else like you.”

He’d fuck you so senseless, Mingyu holding your body in his arms as his fingers trailed down your torso to the space between you two. He looked so gorgeous, sharp canines biting into his bottom lip as he focused on thrusting in and out of you, fingers working at your clit as he moaned in relief. You became impossibly tighter, walls squeezing from the extra stimulation.

The heat between you two was maddening, fucking you so hard that you almost bounced on his cock even though he was doing all the work. He’d make sure you’d cum first, one hand holding up your body as it began to collapse whilst the other worked relentlessly at your clit. You’d see stars every time he’d make you cum, the pleasure incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced.

The way you’d tighten around him, walls pulsing as you came would have him cumming in an instant, pulling you off him to push you down to your knees. He’d release himself all over your face and breasts. The ruined makeup from your sweat and tears only becoming more smeared from the way he’d run his fingers through his own cum and pushing it into your mouth for a taste.

Mingyu thought you were stunning this way, his addiction to you only becoming more serious now that he’s had a taste of you and your body. Mingyu would continue visiting you nightly, his unholy desires leading him right back to you at the same club. He knew exactly where to find you, greedy for your attention and pussy every night. Not that you could complain, you’d indulge in sinning if it meant you had him as well.

[goldengoddess]

i worry about you - kaz brekker

request: ok what about kaz sending inej to check up on his s/o every night and then his s/o catches inej one day and confronts kaz about it and he basically admits he gets worried about them and needs to know they’re okay before he lets himself fall asleep

a/n: this was kind of cute and very in character for kaz so i love it <3

warnings: none i think 

at first you hadn’t noticed it. you hadn’t really picked up on the fact that every other night inej would walk you to your room at the slat or that she would knock on your door for something random like, ‘oh what time are we getting up tomorrow morning’. inej’s sudden interest in your nightly routine and nightly where abouts hadn’t made you suspicious, the two of you were good friends after all.

but then, on the nights that inej didn’t stop by your room, you felt like you were being watched. you would pace around your room, open and close the door after checking if someone was standing outside, and you’d make sure the blinds of your windows where closed every night.

then one night, you caught her. maybe she was being clumsy that night or maybe you had been so paranoid recently that you were able to notice the Wraith’s movements.

“inej come out of the shadows please” you had sternly said, your arms firmly crossed across your chest.

you heard a small sigh and then suddenly inej materialized from the shadows. she wore a sheepish grin like a child who was caught taking candy after dinner.

“hey y/n what are you doing here” she lightly joked.

you almost let yourself smile, this girl. but you kept your fake stern face on, “inej, what are you doing in my room? it’s almost midnight and i saw you like an hour ago.”

she let out another sigh. she thought for a moment. and the spoke, “look i was just checking in on you. you seemed sort of down at dinner and i wanted to make sure everything was okay, honestly.”

you had let yourself smile at her then. it was so sweet that she had noticed.

really, you had been bummed out all night because kaz seemed to be in and even worse mood than usual and his moods always affected yours.

“i’m okay inej, just an odd night. i appreciate the fact that you checked in, but for future reference, i’m perfectly okay if you decide to use my door like a normal person”

she grinned while walking backwards to your window, “you know that’s not my style y/n.” and then she flipped out the window like the spider she was.

but that wasn’t inej’s last visit. and she didn’t use the door like you’d told her too. now that you knew to look out for her, it was easier to notice when she slipped into your room and then slipped out.

she’d stay for a couple of seconds and then leave. in and out like a ghost, leaving no trail of her being there. but now that you’d seen her you couldn’t un see her. and this wasn’t some friendly check in, you weren’t sad or in a bad mood every night. and she came into your room every night.

after about two weeks of this weird unexplainable routine of inej’s, you decided to say something.

you were sitting on your bed reading when you let out an exasperated sigh and closed the book. you blew some hair away from your face before saying, “saints inej please come out.”

you got deja vu as she walked out of the darkness. “you heard me again?” she said to you, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

you shook your head, “i’ve been able to tell every time you’re in here since the last time i caught you. don’t forget you’re not the only spy here Wraith.”

she stayed silent, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“tell me why you’re here. why you sneak into my room every night” you said.

she took a seat on your bed next to you. “i’m checking in on you” is all she gave you.

you threw your hands up in frustration, “why inej. you know i’m fine why do you feel the need to check in all of a sudden. are you okay?”

she laughed at your concern, leaning her head on your shoulder. “im checking in because kaz told me to check in on you.”

you pushed her off of you in shock, “kaz brekker? the kaz that we’re both friends with ? both work with?”

she nodded her head, “the one and only.”

you shook your head in disbelief, “why would kaz ask you to do that?”

she shrugged and pushed herself off the bed, shuffling towards the window. “i’m not sure. he told me to do is a few months ago and-”

“months?!” you interject.

“-and he takes it very seriously. i always have to go upstairs and tell him everything is okay.”

you were confused to say the least, you didn’t understand why kaz would ask inej to check on you every night. so you stayed silent. inej took that as her cue to leave, slipping out the window the same way she had weeks before.

you waited a few minutes. you mulled over your thoughts and memories, looking for any reason that kaz might need to know your location at night. had you done something wrong ? did he suspect you were betraying him? you felt a little hurt at the thought. you and kaz were close, closer than he was with the rest of the crows. he should know that you would never leave the dregs, they had saved your life. kaz had saved your life.

you shook your head and walked out of your room. why not just ask? it couldn’t hurt right? kaz may never give a straight answer in his life but maybe he would tell inej to back off.

by the time you made it to his door you were slightly angry, possibly annoyed. what right did kaz have to spy on you using one of your own friends. was there no such thing as privacy ?

you knocked on the door and waited for kaz’s ‘come in’ to step into his room/office.

he was sitting at his desk, hunched over a couple of accounting books from the crow club. you knew him well enough to know he was double checking every transaction to make sure there were no mistakes.

he looked up and pushed the papers away from him when he realized it was you. “oh y/n, it’s you.”

you huffed and walked over to him, standing in front of his desk. “yeah it’s me. i need to talk to you about something.”

he leaned back in his chair, motioning with his arms for you to go on.

you took a deep breath, “why have you asked inej to check on me every night?”

his eyes went wide slightly, and he sat up straight in his chair. all of his relaxed energy gone.

you went on, “because frankly it’s disrespectful. i don’t do anything that would make you suspicious of me. you know i would never leave or betray the dregs. so why do you ask my friend of all people to check on my location at night time kaz this is an invasion of my space and i can’t-”

“that is not why inej checks in on you” he interrupts.

you placed your hands on your hips. “okay so tell me brekker, why do you need inej to check in on me?”

he ran a hand through his hair. it kind of seemed like he was having an internal battle with himself.

“because i worry about you.”

you narrowed your eyes at him, your eyebrows creasing in confusion. “what?”

he was staring at his gloved hands, anywhere but you. “i worry about you. i want to make sure you get home okay or that you’re relaxed. i don’t make her check because i think you’re out working with another gang. i ask her to check to make sure you’re safe. especially if you came back from a job.”

you stayed silent for a minute. you had come in here ready for a fight, not this. you were prepared to fight or endure kaz’s passive aggressive energy for a couple of hours, you most definitely hadn’t prepared yourself for his honesty.

“but why would you want to know i was safe?”

he chucked darkly. “it’s not that i want to. i need to. unless i know you’re okay i can’t sleep. i’ll stay up for hours overthinking your job and how i wasn’t sure if i had seen you at dinner or playing cards with jesper. and then my mind wanders into all of the things that could have happened to you or could be happening to you. so inej tells me when you’re in your room safe and not in pain and only then can i fall asleep.”

neither of you said a word. you fidgeted with your fingers as a distraction. you were in shock. you were flattered. the blush on your cheeks far too hot. you were feeling so much.

but mostly you felt loved and cherished by kaz.

so you said, “sometimes when you’re in a mood. i get in a mood. it’ll ruin my whole night because i know for the rest of my day i’ll worry about you. and whether you’re feeling better or not. thinking about what made you pissed in the first place. thinking about all of the people who could make you happy in that moment.”

he deserved your vulnerability back.

when it became clear that kaz wasn’t going to say anything, you made your way to his door.

“wait”

you paused at the door

“i’ll tell inej to back off”

you turned towards him and he was finally looking at you.

you smiled at him, “thank you kaz.” you paused for a moment. “maybe tomorrow night, and the night after that, and the night after that, i’ll come in here and say good night? right after my jobs and when i’m heading to bed. would that be okay?”

if he needed the reassurance that you were okay to sleep, then you would happily climb two flights of stairs to give him that peace of mind.

plus you couldn’t deny the excitement you felt at the prospect of saying good night to kaz.

kaz had a small grin on his face too. “yeah,” he whispered, “that would be fine.”

you opened the door and before you lost your courage you said, “and kaz. you can always come down to my room to say goodnight. i like knowing you’re safe too.”

you stepped through the door and closed it behind you.

“good night brekker” you called out behind you.

[iidigestive-readerii]

I really love your work, you're an amazing writer. I've got a funny one-shot obitine idea. So you know how little kids can be brutally honest, like they're not trying to be mean/offensive or anything, it's innocent, it's just that there just isn't a filter. There could be a situation where Obi Wan and Satine have to deal with a brutally honest youngling that seems to follow them around like a duckling, who honestly wants to hang out with them, they just ask way too many questions that hit a bit too close to home. Also the thing where sometimes if you're friends with someone of the opposite gender, kids ask if they're your boyfriend/girlfriend, which may or may not be one of the questions the youngling asks. Anyway I hope that you have a fantastic day 😊

Aww, thank you! @fwtcanimelover

Sorry it's so late, I had a longer than anticipated day at work. Anyways - onwards!

*

The first time Obi-Wan met Mara Jade, it was a rescue mission. The Order had received Intel that Palpatine had been training Force Sensitive kids as assassins of sorts. She was feral, fearful, and threw a mean punch.

She was seven.

The rest of the kids were more willing to follow, especially with the promise of a warm meal and a roof over their heads.

Mara ran back into the ruins of the planet they had found themselves on - and Obi-Wan followed. Found her hiding spot, and sat, talking and sharing stories until she followed him back to the ship.

She fell asleep against his shoulder.

And that's how it became. Mara would find Obi-Wan. Somehow. Everywhere in the Temple...and sometimes out of it as well.

Obi-Wan was enthralled with her, always entertaining her questions...as uncomfortable as they were. Like right now, as he broke apart from kissing his wife in greeting to blink, stunned at what was just said. He hadn't felt her presence until the little voice popped up.

"Pardon?" Satine asked, turning to look at the youngling. Her face was neutral, though her eyes glimmered with amusement.

"I asked if you wanted another kid," Mara said with a shrug, swinging her feet idly as she sat on a crate. "You have four, what's one more?"

Obi-Wan blinked, unsure of how to answer. He swallowed reflexively a few times, opening his mouth to speak before closing it. "Mara... that's not something you can just ask people. It's a very private and personal decision between a couple - or whoever is child-rearing."

"I'm not saying have another baby." Mara wrinkled her nose. "Gross."

"...then what - " Satine began before she heard the stampede that was her three daughters. Abandoning the question, she knelt to embrace the tornados.

Obi-Wan raised a hand in greeting to the crechemaster that had dropped them off, turning to say something to Mara - only to discover she was walking away.

***

"What do you think Mara meant?" Satine asked around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Obi-Wan sighed, pausing his reading. He knew this was bound to happen. "I've been told Mara isn't happy at the Temple."

"I don't blame her, growing up the way she did. Poor girl must be traumatized, trying to retrain her brain at such a young age."

"Mmm hmm."

Having finished her nightly routine, Satine turned the 'fresher lights off and strode to the bed, sitting on the edge. There was gray at her temples, but she looked as beautiful as ever. "Jinn seems to like her. Freya and Lily too. I'm sure having friends helps.."

With another sigh Obi-Wan put the datapad aside and sat forward. "I fear we're making the same mistakes with Mara that we made with Anakin."

Satine studied him for a moment, then covered his hands. "Spit it out Obi."

"...Mara tried to run away from the Temple the other day. I found her...and bought her lunch instead of bringing her straight back. Dex made her laugh - it's the first time I've seen her laugh."

"She closed up like a clam when returning?"

He nodded, pressing his lips together. "She follows me around like a duckling whenever she has the chance... You see how happy she is whenever she spends the night as Jinn's guest."

"She wants a family." Satine shook her head, unsure what to say. Then she chuckled, pressing her lips to his hands. "Well...if the Council agrees... what's one more?"

[hollowedwing]

Isekai-ed into Hawk's Life

Hawks x gn!winged!Reader

Warnings: ⚠️ Death!(at very beginning, it is an isekai), mentions of death throughout, some angst(??maybe not yet??), slight cursing

THIS WILL NOT FOLLOW A SPECIFIC TIMELINE IN THE MANGA

(so sorry i just, love, love, the idea of having wings)

(this is all my art, it is on IG, im just too embarrassed for people who know me irl to potentially find this xD Even though none of them have tumblr 👀 if you somehow recognize it...props to you?)

_________________________________

tbh, I can’t decide if I want this to have more than 1 part. 

Word count: ~1,800

_________________________________

You were on your way home from a long evening at your part time job. Before that you had already taken 2 finals that morning too.

You dragged your feet, exhausted, as you headed towards the crosswalk. Stopping at the edge as the traffic light turned green, you decided to pull out your phone and decided to watch a speed paint from your favorite artist who recently released a new video.

It just so happened it was a Hawks speed paint 👀

The light turned red and you slipped your phone into your pocket as your started to make your way across the street

little did you know this would be the last time you'd cross the street

A wild driver came barreling down the road, no regards for civilians or traffic lights, probably drunk or high or just someone out for blood.

You stood there like a deer caught in headlights as your life flashes before your eyes

You can barely comprehend what's happening as you felt pain engulf your body and suddenly you were unconscious

________________________________________

Keigo tiredly stumbled into his large apartment, kicking off his shoes and shrugging his jacket off by the door

He wants nothing more than to just flop down and pass out. The HPSC has been giving him hell lately about god knows what.

He let out a long sigh and headed towards the bathroom to do his nightly routine

As he finishes up, he drags his feet towards his bed and flops down face first into the comfort of his pillow and sheets

Keigo falls asleep almost instantly after getting into a comfortable position, worn out from a long day of work

What he wasn't expecting was a loud "thud!" coming from the main room. He jolts up from his bed, feathers ready to attack.

*******

Reader's pov(?)

*******

You groaned as you hit the floor. Your head was spinning and it feels like a truck just hit you

oh wait...

You suddenly became more alert, looking around in a panic, expecting to either be on the road and injured or in a hospital of sorts. What you didn't expect was a wooden floor inside of a random apartment.

You felt around your body for any signs of injury, but all you found were a set of wings on your back- wings?? Hold up. Why did you feel wings what kind of sick joke was this?

Your thoughts were racing as your breathing picked up. What was happening? Didn't you just get hit by a vehicle? Why are there wings in your back? Where are you even?

Feeling around in your pockets, you found your phone and whipped it out, trying for anything. You turned it on, the harsh light of it illuminating your face, you tried to send a text to your best friend, but alas, it wouldn't go through. Actually nothing on your phone seemed to work. You checked your location settings, for some reason it said Musutafu, Japan.

Wasn't....Wasn't that the location that most of Boku no Hero Academia took place?? This can't be right, this has to be a dream right? There's no way that you could have actually ended up here unless...

Then it hit you.

You read your fair share of isekai series back when you were alive in your realm. Mostly manhwas of characters getting reborn into another person's body, but, never actually reincarnating as yourself into another world.

That was the only thing you could think of. You must have been reincarnated into the Boku no Hero Academia world. Except as yourself.

In all honesty, this is not how you thought you'd go out. You didn't know what to expect after death, but this definitely wasn't it. After all, this was a fictional setting, wasn't it?

Well, not anymore because now you're living in it! Smh.

That would also probably explain the wings on your back. This was you now. You have a bird quirk.

Now, all you have to do, is figure out where the heck you are.

Just as you are about to stand up, feathers zip towards you, pinning you to the ground

You hear footsteps begin to come towards you. You don't know if you should be scared for your life considering you've already died once or ecstatic because, you knew for a fact, this could be none other than Hawks' apartment.

The winged hero finally emerges and stares down at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

He says in a low, gravely voice from sleep, "Who are you, and how did you get into my home?" You stare back up at him and nervously chuckle.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me if I told you." You nervously sigh out.

"Try me." He demands, sounding a little more irritated now. You sigh in defeat and start to explain your situation.

"Do...do you know what an isekai is?" You said sheepishly while turning your gaze away from his. He kind of gave you a confused head tilt and just a vibe that said “No”. You sigh again and explain it to the best of your ability. Hawks becomes more and more interested and confused as you talk, but nods a long slowly. 

“So...you were reborn here, but as yourself? Wait- does that mean you died before!?” He asked, disbelief and fear ran through his eyes. You looked at him in bitter amusement.

“Apparently I did. The last thing I remember of my world was getting hit by some truck or car. The dude clearly did not know how to drive. I had the right of way I was pretty sure at least. I mean, the light was red, usually that means pedestrians can cross the street? And plus he was going wayyy over the speed limit,” you begin to ramble on, the reality of actually dying setting into you. Hawks noticed the panic beginning to set into you and released you from his feathers. He crouched down next to you and grabbed your shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey, look at me, you're ok now, right? You're here, and not dying in the middle of the street still. You're here. In Musutafu," he said trying to calm you back to reality. Well, what was your new reality. Your mind was racing. Trying to put together a coherent thought. 

You look up to him, with a panicked look still in your eyes, thoughts started to come out of your mouth as your brain was trying to catch up with the situation. "I'm... I'm in Boku no Hero Academia and, and you’re Keigo... standing... right in front of me..I have wings. I have wings? Jeezus I have fucking wings. And I’m dead in my own world. I don’t know anyone, well, wait, technically, I do know people, just-Oh gods! I’m so sorry, that name slipped out! I- I, I’m really sorry Hawks." Even in your wild state, you noticed Hawks tense up at the sound of being called Keigo by a total stranger, and were able to get out an apology. That was progress? You were slowly coming back to reality.

Hawks froze up a bit at the sound of hearing his real name mentioned. At first he wasn't sure if he believed your tale of the isekai situation, but after this he might have to reconsider it. He opted to shake off that weird feeling for now and focus on different matters. 

" I-I don't know what I'm supposed to do now? I have nowhere to go or to stay. I'm in a whole different freaking universe! My phone doesn't even hardly work here. And I have a pair of wings on my back!" You puffed them out angrily. Hawks glanced behind you and his eyes widened a little. You in fact, did have a set of bird wings. Kind of owl like wings. Not near as big as Hawks', but definitely big enough to fly you around.

Before Hawks could process the words coming out of his mouth, he was already asking you, "Would you maybe like to stay with me? I can help with your quirk too." He glanced away awkwardly. You looked towards him in disbelief.

"Dude, are you sure? We literally just met like 10 minutes ago? I mean, I'm all for it, I have nowhere else to turn to, but if you really really don't want me here, I will politely step out of your life." You so badly wanted to accept his offer on the spot, but being the considerate, mostly sensible human you were, you gave him the option to back out. Hawks shook his head.

"No, no, it's alright. You can crash here. Uh- I mean- stay here! Sorry!" You giggled at his comment.

"Well thank you very much!"

"It's all good. I have a spare bedroom you can occupy for the time being. I'll give you some clothes to sleep in that'll hopefully fit. Accidentally bought a couple things in the wrong size without looking. " (a/n: just...just assume its your size, or oversized, whatever's comfy idk) He jumped up and headed towards his room to grab you the clothes. You still sat on the floor. Still amazed at everything that was occurring.

Hawks walked back into the room and tossed you the clothes. "Hey uh, you know, you can get up now, sorry for holding you down earlier.."

You blushed and scrambled to stand up, "Oh no! It's ok! I understand. This would definitely warrant that kind of action. Some random stranger crashes into your apartment at like 1am. I completely understand. Honest."

He let out a small laugh and wearily brushed his fingers through his hair. The adrenaline of everything finally wearing off. He could feel the tiredness setting into his aching muscles again. “Ah, well, I’m going to head to bed now. The room is down the hall at the very end that you can stay in. I’ll take you out training tomorrow evening if that’s alright?”

You gave a nod of understanding and followed him down the hallway. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sang as he walked into his bedroom. He gave a hum of acknowledgment and closed his door. 

Making it into what was now your room, you changed out of your clothes so fast, eager to rid yourself of the past hours events. 

Not gonna lie, you could not figure out how to properly get your new wings into the shirt, even with the holes and snaps in the back. Your mind was too exhausted to even process this new skill. So you ended up going to bed without the shirt on and just settled for putting the sweatpants on. 

You figured it’d be good to just pass out asap. You were sure if you tried to recount the recent events, you’d spiral into a panicked mess. 

You shut your eyes tightly, willing yourself to sleep, trying to only think of positive outcomes for the future. But to be honest, you didn’t know enough about anything in this realm to think rationally about anything good. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I prooobably didn’t proofread this as much as I should have

[ironwoman359]

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 4

Navigation: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6

Summary:  As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince, side Moxiety and Dukeceit

Content Warnings (overall): arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst Chapter 4 Warnings: possessive behavior, verbal and physical abuse, angst, allusions to abuse and murder 

Word Count: 4067

Read on AO3: here!

A/N: Co-written with @5-falsehoods-phonated​, check out his masterlist here and check out mine here! 

---

“And when I tried to get down, Remus spooked the pony and it bolted, with me still clinging to the saddle for dear life.” 

Virgil snorted, then immediately brought his hand up to cover his smile. 

“You wound me!” Roman said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Eight-year-old me was certain that his life was going to end, and you’re laughing?” 

“I can’t help that the mental image of you dangling off the saddle of a pony and screaming your head off is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Virgil replied. 

“Be nice, Virgil!” Patton scolded, even as he fought back giggles of his own. “I’m sure it was very scary at the time!” 

“You’re telling me,” Roman agreed. “I wouldn’t set foot near the stables for a month.” 

“I can’t believe that after all that you somehow grew up to be a competent rider,” Virgil said. 

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my older brother Remy. He started taking me with him when he went out on his rides; I felt a lot safer riding double with him than I did by myself.”

“Your brothers sound wonderful,” Patton said, smiling. 

“Oh, they’re the absolute worst,” Roman said. “But also I love them more than anyone.” 

“I hope we’ll get to meet them at the wedding!” 

Roman’s smile went brittle around the edges, and he forced himself to nod. 

“I hope so too,” he said quietly. 

Patton’s brow wrinkled, and Roman knew that look, that was Patton’s “I’m worried about you” look, and as much as he had come to view Patton and Virgil as his friends, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to get into the whole “my twin brother ran away from home to escape noble life and I haven’t seen him in years and might never see him again” topic with them just yet. 

“Well this has been great,” Virgil cut in suddenly. “But it’s getting close to midday; I need to get back to work, and you need to get to your little lunch date.” 

“Excuse you, it is a perfectly professional business meeting!” Roman protested, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure it is. That’s why you meet with Logan every single day and always perk up or get this silly smile on your face whenever you mention something that he said, most of which has nothing to do with business.” 

Roman gave Virgil a deadpan look. “Do you really want me to retaliate right now?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Patton. 

Virgil’s cheeks flushed pink, and he waved Roman away. 

“Go on, then!” he said. “Go have your perfectly professional business meeting.” 

“I will!” Roman said primly, but as he stood to leave, he shot Virgil a grateful smile, and Virgil nodded in return. 

After parting with Patton at the house’s entrance, Roman made the short trek down to the library alone. He hadn’t been sure how he would manage living at the Howard Estate at first, but his life had settled into a predictable yet comfortable routine since the engagement banquet. 

Patton brought breakfast to his room every morning, and after Roman insisted several times that he preferred the company, Patton now stayed to eat with him most mornings. After breakfast, Roman changed into his riding clothes and the two headed down to the stables together, where Virgil was waiting for them with Angel. Roman took his morning ride, and Patton and Virgil did whatever it was they liked to do when they were alone together. 

When he returned, Roman helped Virgil groom Angel, and the three of them often fell into easy conversation with one another. At midday, Roman took his lunch in the library with Logan, and he spent the afternoons on his own, exploring the mansion or indulging in his creative hobbies. All in all, his days were mostly pleasant, until dinnertime, of course. 

His nightly dinner with Lord Howard was, to his disappointment, the most boring and uncomfortable part of Roman’s day. It became clear to Roman after a few attempts of engaging with his fiance that Lord Howard wasn’t even slightly interested in talking with him; what he wanted was somebody to talk at. Roman sat, night after night, and listened to the earl rant about frustrating business partners, idiotic city officials, and even tiny annoyances like a scuff on his boot or a fly in his office. It was difficult to not feel like an emotional punching bag, and Roman always left dinner exhausted from playing the polite, doting fiance that Lord Howard expected him to be. 

Roman stepped into the library, and smiled when he saw Logan sitting at a table beneath a window, the afternoon sun casting golden beams of light through his long hair.

At least there were more positives than negatives to living at this estate. 

“Ah, Roman,” Logan said, smiling as he approached. “Excellent timing, I was just beginning to review my weekly report for Lord Howard. Would you care to assist me?”

“Always,” Roman said, sitting down across from him. 

They poured over the receipts and summaries and work orders together, and Roman couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of work that Logan did every single day. 

“Honestly, Logan, you do almost too much for the earl. Especially considering what he pays you.” 

Roman had seen the payroll receipts for all the staff, and he couldn’t help but be a little insulted on the servants’ behalf. One of the ways Lord Howard kept costs down was clearly at the expense of his staff. 

“While I may agree with your sentiment, the fact of the matter is that if I did not do all this, the estate would fall apart,” Logan said. “And regardless of any...personal feelings about his lordship, there are far too many people who depend on him and his estate for me to consider stopping.” 

Logan paused, frowning as he scanned a document, then sighed. 

“For instance, his lordship neglected to sign off on a shipment of new armor to the city guard, despite my reminding him to do so three times in the last week.” 

He scrawled something along the bottom of the document and set it aside, and Roman raised an eyebrow. 

“Was that Lord Howard’s name you just wrote?” 

Logan fiddled with his glasses, and he glanced around the room before answering. “This is...not the first time that his lordship has neglected his duties on what he perceives to be minor issues. I, uh...take the liberty of correcting such oversights for him.”

“You can forge his handwriting?” Roman translated, and Logan nodded sheepishly. “That’s amazing!” 

Logan blinked, looking up at Roman in clear surprise. “I...it is?” 

“Are you kidding me?” Roman exclaimed. “Of course it is...you’re so talented, Logan, really. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’re wasted as a secretary.” 

“Oh...well, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I must admit, you also have far more potential than his lordship would care to acknowledge.” 

“I’ll get him to see sense soon,” Roman insisted. “Then maybe together, we can make some real changes around here!” 

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Logan said with a sigh. “But I am glad to share your company, at least.”

It was Roman’s turn to blush, but before he could think of a reply, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Patton approaching their table. 

“Sorry for interrupting, Kiddos, but I’ve been asked to fetch Roman here and get him ready.” 

“Get me ready?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded. 

“His lordship requests your presence at a business meeting he has in an hour with other estate holders. I’ve been instructed to dress you for the event and bring you to his lordship.” 

Roman forced down the twinge of discomfort in the back of his mind at the earl choosing an outfit for him like he was some sort of doll, and grinned as he got to his feet. 

“You see, Logan?” he said. “This is our chance!”

“If it is a meeting with other nobility, then I’m afraid I won’t be present,” Logan said. “Lord Howard does not wish for...commoners to be present at such negotiations. He instructs me on what measures need to be taken afterwards.”  

“That’ll be the first thing we change then, once I make him see reason,” Roman said. “You’ll see, this is going to be the start of something great!” 

“I hope you are right,” Logan said with a small smile. “Good luck, Roman.” 

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman said as he followed Patton out of the library. 

I’ll certainly need it. 

--- --- ---

Roman fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, shooting a glance over to the earl to make sure he hadn’t noticed. The silky fabric that his pants were made of stuck uncomfortably to his skin and made his legs itch horribly, but he had been in similar attire before and had had plenty of practice in the art of keeping his poise while screaming internally. Thankfully, even though he was seated right next to Lord Howard, he had yet to draw his attention. Howard had been too occupied bragging about his various business exports for most of the meeting to pay much attention to him. 

Even through his discomfort, Roman had been learning a lot about his fiance, dutifully keeping mental notes on everything he heard, from which parts of land he had inherited to which ones he had bought or negotiated into owning. Overseas businesses and local investments both let his power reach farther than one might first suspect, and all that put together was what kept the Howard Estate with its acres of land, sprawling mansion and extensive grounds and highly specialized staff all running smoothly. 

It was a lot to manage, so it made sense that Lord Howard had Logan figure out most of the work and only signed off on the most important things himself. Having someone as competent as Logan run things in the background so the true estate head could make the actual appearances as the business leader was a strategy many nobles used to keep their properties under control. 

Craning his neck to look up at his fiance from his lower seat, Roman furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered just how much Logan did that the earl never saw anything about until he reaped the benefits of it. Sure, Logan was extremely capable, but relying entirely on one person to manage everything seemed a bit foolhardy to Roman.

Tuning back into the conversation, Roman perked up as another lord gestured stiffly at a stack of documents in front of him, smooth calculation clear in his tone of voice. Negotiations were something Roman had always prided himself in handling, and handling well. He had often spoken circles around his own father in their practice debates, and it was rare that Roman participated in a discussion without gaining something in his own favor. 

As neither party at the moment looked particularly stressed, Roman figured with a slight twinge of disappointment that such measures shouldn’t be needed this time. He would have liked to show off just a bit and make Lord Howard see what a useful asset he could actually be in their marriage, but he supposed that could wait until a more appropriate opportunity.

“I have most of the influence in this field anyway. Signing your bit of land over to me now would cause fewer problems for you in the future; especially if I don’t have to take it by force when I’m looking to expand.”  Punctuating his statement with a firm tap to the papers, the opposing lord sat back with a satisfied smirk.

The icy glare Lord Howard fixed him with was enough to wipe the smirk fully off his face, however, and he tilted back slightly as the earl leaned forward to fold his hands smoothly in front of him. 

“I’m not in the habit of signing away what’s rightfully mine, Lord Rilken, Baron of Vilvik.”

Roman flinched slightly at the way he practically spat the other man’s title…a title he shared, and had never once felt insecure about until this very moment. The way he spoke to these men, these people in positions of power, like they were nothing but dirt to be brushed off his own much more impressive riches- it was enough to make Roman want to run all the way back to his own estate and beg for another way, plead to wait for someone else to ask for his hand or to find someone himself. He stiffened in his seat and shook the irrational thoughts away. 

No, this is how one played the game when negotiating important matters. Put up a cold and intimidating front until the other person backed down or bent to your own suggestions. If anything, Lord Howard's act was admirable; it almost immediately shut down any arguments, even if it hardly held any semblance of tact. Realizing this would be a good opportunity to show his skills, Roman leaned forward and placed his own hands on the table in front of him, gaining the attention of the opposing business owners quickly.

“It might prove advantageous to you both to simply form a partnership and share the land and business potential it holds. With as much power as the both of you hold over this branch, you’d be able to expand much faster and reap more benefits than you would if you spent all of your time attempting to take control over the others’ sections.” Pleased with himself, Roman glanced over to Lord Howard, expecting at least to have impressed him since he hadn’t really had the time to explain all that he had been trained in and what he could bring to the estate with their union. 

However, as he met Lord Howard’s eyes, ice ran through his veins. The earl was glaring, staring him down like a particularly resilient bug that he could hardly wait to smash beneath a steel-toed boot. The room went so quiet that Roman could swear that the other nobles were holding their breath, and glancing around in his peripherals, he saw everyone sitting around the table gawking at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Had he really said something so wrong? Was this not what was customary, nay, expected behavior of the soon to be co-owner of the estate? Shrinking down slightly as his ears burned red, he finally lowered his eyes as the earl turned away. Roman heard him take a deep breath before saying in a deliberately controlled voice:

“You must forgive my fiance, he hails from a country estate you see; he isn’t accustomed to the way things work here yet. If you would be so kind as to excuse us for just a moment so that I may explain a few things?” Not waiting for an answer, the earl stood and held out his hand for Roman to take. “If you would step into the hall with me, dearest?”

Recognizing the order under the request, Roman stood quickly and took Lord Howard’s hand, wincing at how tightly he was gripped and practically dragged out of the room. The door was opened just a bit too forcefully to calm his nerves in the slightest and he watched as Lord Howard seemed to barely refrain from slamming it back closed, instead closing it with deliberate calm before whirling around to face him and jerking his hand out of Roman’s to tower before him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, you do not speak out of turn in these meetings. You do not speak above me or-”

“But I didn’t! I was only-” Roman didn’t register what the dull smacking sound echoing in his ears and making them ring was until pain bloomed and spread from his lower jaw to his entire cheek. Raising his hand to his face in disbelief, he felt a bit of wetness and looked to see blood on his fingertips. Fear and horror twisted in his gut as he realized one of Lord Howard’s rings must have caught on his cheek and opened a cut. His jaw ached and his teeth felt numb; the blow had been hard enough to rattle them in his skull. Romans looked up and flinched as he saw Howard’s hand still raised to strike should he choose to speak again, and he shrunk in on himself in an attempt to seem too small to expend more energy on.

“You,” The earl spat, “do not speak above me, or make suggestions on my behalf. You are not here to offer up useless opinions that were not asked for or needed. You were brought into that room to sit obediently and look pretty on my arm and that is the full extent that your role will ever be. Have I made myself clear?”

Roman hesitated for just a second too long, and Lord Howard reached down to grip his chin, tipping his head so he had no choice but to look his assailant directly in the eyes. “My dear, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

Biting back a whimper Roman nodded as much as he could with his face trapped in the steely grip. “Yes my lord, I understand perfectly. I apologize for overstepping, it won’t happen again.”

The answer, as demeaning as it had felt to say, seemed to appease the still seething man, and Howard dropped his chin and stepped back with a wolfish smile. 

“Very good, see to it that it doesn’t. Now, I believe we’ve been here long enough. If you’re done blubbering, you may join me.”

Startling a bit at the choice of phrasing, Roman hesitantly reached up to touch his face, wincing as he realized there was more than just blood on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he carefully wiped the tears away before plastering on a small smile and moving to stand just behind the earl. He was loath to go back into the room like this, humiliation and blood reddening his cheeks, but he didn’t dare speak up for fear of more punishment. As Lord Howard opened the door and moved back to his place at the head of the table, he hardly spared Roman another glance, and Roman had no choice but to meekly follow. 

Sitting down, Roman realized most of the people at the table were staring at him like one would a fresh kill, their expressions a mixture of pity and approval while they averted their eyes. Sinking down even lower as the meeting resumed, he realized this was to be the second part of his punishment. He was to learn and remember his role as Lord Howard’s betrothed and eventual husband. Sit still and look pretty, step a toe out of line and be punished, and make sure everyone in the room knew that the power held over him was just as absolute as the power the earl held over everything else. 

“I’m pleased to know some people still know how to keep common folk in line. Truly, the disrespect-” Roman’s ears rang as someone close by whispered to another just loud enough for him to overhear, making him want to sink down even lower and let the floor swallow him. 

The meeting continued on for what seemed like forever, but unlike before, Roman didn’t absorb a single word of what was said. The voices of the other lords washed over him as he sat as still as he could, hands clenched in his lap to keep them from trembling. When at last Lord Howard stood, Roman almost stood up next to him, but caught himself just in time and sent a questioning glance up at his fiance. 

Lord Howard’s lips curled into a smile, and he held his arm out to Roman in invitation. Roman swallowed down his revulsion and stood, slipping his arm into the earl’s and schooling his face into a pretty smile. Lord Howard covered Roman’s hand with his own, and Roman’s skin burned at the touch. 

“Well gentlemen, this concludes our discussion for the day, I do thank you all for coming.” 

One by one the nobles stood, nodding to Lord Howard as they filed out of the room. Roman’s cheeks heated as several of them swept their eyes over him as they passed, their gazes lingering on the bruise blooming on his face. When at last, every one of them was gone, Lord Howard turned his attention to Roman, all false pleasantries gone from his expression. 

“I trust that after today, any...confusion about your role here has been cleared up?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. 

“Yes, my lord,” Roman whispered, and the earl smiled. 

“Good. Now go clean yourself up. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp, and I expect you to look presentable.” 

“Yes, my lord,” Roman repeated, and as soon as Lord Howard dropped his arm, he practically bolted from the room. 

He hurried through the corridors of the mansion, head down and eyes stinging. When he finally reached his room, he all but slammed the door behind him, and collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he released the sob he’d been holding back for the past hour. 

He let himself cry, for how long, he wasn’t sure, not only for the sting on his cheek and the shame that came with it, but for every doubt, every grief, every pain that he’d pushed down and bottled up over the past month.  

After everything he’d been through, everything he’d sacrificed, was this really his fate? Chained forever to a man who only saw him as something to own, to display, to use... 

Roman lifted his head slowly. 

“Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine." 

His father had taught him everything he knew about business, about politics, about matters of the state. He knew how to act with decorum, how to spot an opportunity, and how to charm a room while negotiating, all thanks to his father’s teachings. 

But now, with tears running down his face and a bruise blossoming on his cheek, he remembered another set of lessons. 

Lessons his mother had given him as a teenager, after time had run its course and he was no longer the slightly awkward, gangly kid he had once been. 

“You’ve grown into a handsome young man,” his mother had said to him on his eighteenth birthday. “Your father believes that when you are married, it will be purely for political reasons. You need to know that this may not be the case.” 

Roman had tried to forget the lessons his mother had passed down to him, had told himself that he would never need them...but here he was, sobbing on the floor, the first of what he knew would be many marks on his skin if he didn’t tread carefully. 

Roman learned everything he knew about running an estate from his father, but he learned everything about acting from his mother. Thanks to her, he knew how to conceal his emotions, how to smile when his stomach rolled over and how to sigh when his skin burned. He knew how to mold himself into the perfect husband, because if he did not let himself be molded he would find himself broken before it was too late. 

“Too late for what, mother?” the younger him had asked, eyes wide and horrified, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before. 

“Did I ever tell you the story of how your grandfather died?” 

Roman knew what situations were most likely to result in “accidents,” what weapons were easily concealed and what poisons were difficult to detect. He knew how to pluck a nose hair to bring tears to his eyes and slap his cheeks so they appeared flushed. He knew how to appear calm and collected when he was suffering, and how to appear stricken with grief when all he felt was relief. 

He had been preparing for marriage his whole life...every kind of marriage. And now that he knew the kind of husband that Lord Howard really wanted, he knew exactly what kind of husband he was going to be. 

Even if he wouldn’t be one for very long. 

--- --- ---

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[thetravelingmaster]

Short Story: A Voice in my Head

For months now, I’ve had this voice in my head... At first it was barely a whisper. Something I confused with my own inner voice, but now I know it wasn’t. It started off so innocently.... Small whispers that felt like my own sub-consciousness giving me little boosts of self-esteem. Most of the time, I didn't even hear the words, but the pleasurable push was still felt. For example, ​I would dress myself in a tight little number to go out at the bar and look myself over. Then, the more I would admire myself, the more I would feel microscopic spikes of pleasure... And a sort of whisper in the back of my mind... Complimenting me... What started as sporadic praises eventually evolved to gentle nudging. Soft words that seemed to stick in my thoughts even if I didn't consciously hear them as they echoed in my mind. 

Pretty soon, every time I sat in front of my mirror and started to apply my make up, I would feel it as it offered different combinations shades instead of the ones I was about to use. I didn't always bother to listen or consider the strange and annoying ideas I felt pop in my head, but when I did... I felt this spark of deep joy...

Without really realizing it, that amazing feeling nudged me to listened to the foreign words more and more. When I finally woke up one morning with the conviction that something WAS happening to me, I started to fear that I was possibly going mad! That the whispers I was hearing were some type of mental illness. But I soon disregarded that fear when I realized that voice was only there to help. It was just guiding me. Praising me... Before I truly realized it, the voice was whispering every day. Especially in the mornings when I got ready or in the evenings when I took care of myself. In fact, I suddenly realized one morning, as I listened to the whispers compliment me on my outfit, that I was starting to rely on the voice to know exactly how I should dress. Especially since the voice always seemed to know what was best. And that each time it praised me for following it’s suggestions, I would feel the now familiar joyful high bubble up from deep within me. Of course, I wasn’t a total dummy... I noticed that the voice constantly nudged me towards sexier outfits and skimpier underwear, but I was a good looking girl so why shouldn’t I be proud to show it off? I work hard to maintain my looks so I figured I had to right to enjoy it right? Maybe it was wrong of me to indulge and start relying on the voice and MAYBE I might have been able to change what was happening to me. But at the time, it just felt so easy and good to listen to it’s words and follow it’s lead. More and more I would hear the voice as it continued to guide and praise me during the day. Before I knew it, I was even letting the voice guide my diet and exercise routines! Why wouldn’t I when listening to the voice gave me such a peaceful and docile feeling of happiness? Besides... Each suggestion only served to boost my health and moral. After months, the voice progressively took over my habits until I would actively wait to hear it’s guidance before taking any decision related to my looks or meals. Even if the voice wasn’t my own, I felt like it had become part of me none the less. I’ve never been healthier or sexier in my entire life! If anything, I was extremely grateful to the strange and wonderful voice for keeping me so focused. And so euphorically happy! Every day the voice urged me on and guided me to be prettier and sexier. I found myself almost addicted to the docile joy I felt when ever I agreed or listened to the voice’s increasing demands. So much so that I never even thought to question it when it started to whisper sexual things when I lay down in my bed at night. The calm joy would buzz in my mind as the voice described erotic scenes while I drifted off to sleep. ​I wasn’t always able to fully grasp the scene it was painting for me, but I felt like I could feel it... Experience it... I would wake up in morning having a deep conviction that I had erotic dreams. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for my nights to get a little hotter than they usually were. The voice gently nudged me to touch myself as I listened to it’s erotic voice and like everything it suggested I do, I didn’t fight it and obliged. Which felt even more amazing than when I listened to it’s wardrobe or diet requests. My dreams became clearer and every morning, I would wake up with the most delicious of arousals as it spread to cover my entire body like some warm afternoon sun. And the more I indulged, the longer that feeling lasted as I went about my day... After a few weeks of this, I found myself spending every waking moment in a sort of deliciously docile haze of arousal has the voice in my head spoke to me more and more. Eventually, I started to realize that the voice never suggested that I let my nightly masturbation session find their release. So of course, I ended up edging instead of chasing my pleasure to its rewarding conclusion. Did it play into my euphoric feeling and constant arousal? Most certainly... But the voice didn’t tell me to indulge and make myself cum so I didn’t. In fact, it praised me when ever I got close and stopped myself before the pleasure became too intense. Which only made me happier because I craved the voice’s praise and the euphoria it brought. Somewhere along the line, I had completely fallen for the voice in my head. It’s constant guidance and praise had transformed my life and I felt incredibly grateful that it had. By listening to the voice, I had gained a killer body and spent my entire day on a cloud of constant sensual arousal. I had never been healthier or as beautiful. I felt incredible good about myself and the incredible sex appealed it all generated just served to prove that I had done the right thing by listening to the voice in my head. I had fallen in love with that voice and I didn’t even know who it was. But that was about to change... This morning, the voice finally asked a question. After months of praise and guidance, it actually asked me a question. It never had before... Even when I would find myself talking to it and asking if it liked the outfit I had chosen. Or even before that when I still worried that I was mad and I would ask it point blank who it was and why it was speaking to me. It had always ignored my questions and simply guided and praised... Until today. “Do you wish to meet me?” it asked seductively. I was taken aback by the sudden change. The voice had never been so clear in my mind and I paused to appreciate just how intense is truly was. But I didn't savor it for long. The voice had asked a question and it always felt good to be nice and docile for the voice. It wanted an answer and I wasn't going to deny it. Of course, I said yes. So I listened and obeyed as it called out to me. Guiding me through the city as I made my way to the source of the wonderful voice in my head. Who ever it was... They had guided and nurtured me for months. Slowly chipping out the bad and refining the good so that I became the best and sexiest version of myself. They had been with me every step of the way to praise and help me become what I am today. And it had all felt exquisitely amazing... So naturally, I was determined to explore what ever they had in store for me. I knew I had already submitted to the voice because it had shined a light on the docile euphoria that was struggling to bloom inside me. I knew that the arousal I felt had nothing to do with the physical nature of sexual intercourse because it went so much deeper. I knew that my happiness and joy had everything to do with the owner of the voice in my head because in comparison, I had never been truly as happy as I was now. And as I listened to the voice and slowly undressed before the door it had lead me to, I knew that I had been craving to give myself to the owner of that incredible voice for the last few weeks... Because deep down, I wanted to give myself over to the exquisite freedom of never having to decide anything for myself again...

[wallwriterstuff]

Still Learning ||Demetri Volturi x Female Reader||

Part 1: Little Rabbit 

Warnings: None, this is fairly fluffy for once. 

Words: 3161

Summary: A part 2 to Little Rabbit as requested by @clowence. 

It’s been a few months since Demetri took you in now, and you’re starting to realise he’s more than just a mentor to you. 

3 secretaries, 2 weeks in the dungeons for each one, and 1 one very patient man.

That was the brief version of your time with the Volturi so far. Demetri had been enraged when the Masters’ sent you to the dungeons the first time, though he had reluctantly let you go without a fight when it happened twice more. You had tried your best to be good, really you had, but the secretaries had just smelled so good and you were so thirsty all the damn time...

“And that is why you never lose focus in a fight.” Felix’s fist was like a sledgehammer against your jaw, shattering the porcelain skin. You hit the floor hard, a hiss escaping your throat. Felix had been assigned to train you by Demetri himself, since he trusted very few people to be around you, but Felix trained you hard. Your daily routine consisted of being his punch bag for a few hours, but it gave you something else to focus on other than the grating thirst. It was like a constant itch in the back of your throat, one that grew worse and made your throat raw when you were thirsty but was slowly dimming to background noise as the months passed.

Demetri had kept a close eye on you for the nine months you had been with him. Not once in all that time had decided to tell you you were his mate of course, seeing your obvious struggle with day to day existence and not wanting to add to that. The Volturi was not a place for newborns. It was a coven of much older, experienced vampires who had harnessed their gifts and their thirst – you were very much an outsider. Constantly teased, constantly under siege by your own instincts, and yet…you made him proud every single day. He made sure you had the room next to his, Aro not denying you that privilege of living amongst the higher guard after seeing Demetri’s thoughts on the matter.

Silently, he had watched you try to adjust to your new life, and after seeing your evenings were the hardest to deal with he had set up a nightly routine of visiting you when he didn’t have a duty assigned to him or something to do. You quickly picked up the Italian he taught you, your new mind quick to recall everything you had ever thought or seen from the moment you had awoken in this life, and he had been pleasantly surprised by your eagerness to learn some Greek from him to, completely oblivious that it was an attempt on your part simply to show him a little gratitude and interest.

The truth was, he knew you better than you knew yourself in this life. The moment you started to have a little wobble Demetri was at your side like he had never left it, and the intensity of the flurry of emotions he invoked was too much for you to bear some nights. After months spent in his company, nights where reading together became nights you spent curled up next to him as he read to you, casual touches began to linger, his hand on your waist as you moved past one another in the halls or your hand touching his as you passed books between you. He no longer held you back by the shoulders as he tried to teach you some restraint as you fed (your weekly trips to Florence something you very much looked forward to as it meant a bit of alone time with him) but by the hips instead, his lips playing along your hairline distracting you more than anything so you weren’t always sure if it was your actual self-control getting better or if you were just growing more aware of Demetri.

Felix had your back pressed into the floor once more, his hands gripping your head lightly.

“And now I can take your head off of your shoulders. What is distracting you today?” he asked. You groaned, struggling weakly until Felix let you up.

“I just am.” You grumbled. How was you supposed to tell him his best friend was invading your thoughts? You couldn’t. Felix would absolutely rip you apart.

“Distractions always have a root cause.” He pointed out neutrally. A flash of irritation made you hiss quietly before you took a breath to collect yourself. Felix smirked ever so slightly, sensing your frustration and silently lowering into a half-crouch to try and tempt you to take it out on him. You ignored him and ran a hand through your hair.

“I’m making no progress.” You huffed, a complete lie. Felix seemed to know it was a lie to but he let you get away with it, tilting his head slightly in what you thought was going to be a nod before it became a shake. You frowned.

“You have made a lot of progress, even if you don’t think that you have. I have been fighting newborns for over two millenia Y/N, most would not stand up to me like you can,” He assured you, “When your heads in the right place.” He added with a smirk.

“You’ll have a chance to prove you’ve made progress tonight.” Alec’s voice was a welcome one, even if you didn’t quite get on with the twins all the time. Jane was nowhere to be seen today but Alec stood tall in the doorway, arms folded over his chest. Your frown only deepened, mind racing a million miles ahead as to what that might mean. Did they want you to fight Felix in front of them? A mission maybe? Newborns didn’t go on missions, you were told so by a very upset Caius when you had first come to Volterra and asked what you might be doing to repay them for giving you a room.

“Put the poor girl out of her misery Alec, her mind is wandering today.” Felix chuckled.

“Heidi will be returning early today, Master Aro has extended an invitation to you to join us for feeding time.” Alec informed you. If you weren’t tense before you were now, your entire body freezing up a little. Feed with them? In the main hall? You had so little experience feeding around other vampires, your control still not perfect, what if you made a fool out of yourself in front of the entire guard?

“If vampires could go pale…”Felix grinned wickedly, obviously enjoying your discomfort. You shot him a glare.

“I’m hardly a pro at any of this!” you protested. Part of you were sure this was a test, or maybe a punishment. Caius had been very upset with you for killing their pilot and every secretary you had accidentally slaughtered had only kept you further and further out of his good graces. This had to be some sort of test for you, and you feared the dungeons more than anything. The smell was awful and the dark was constant, the groans of fellow prisoners a constant echo in your ears. You didn’t want to go back there.

“Y/N stop panicking, I’m sure with all the hard work you and Demetri have put in you’ll be fine.” Felix promised.

“I need to shower.” You murmured, fleeing the room before either of them could stop you. It was a lie, of course, vampires couldn’t sweat, but there was still something so calming about the hot water flowing over your frozen skin that for a few moments, you could simply escape your troubled thoughts. When you were done you sat on your bed in nothing more than your towel, staring distractedly at the door you were sure someone would come through to fetch you when Heidi arrived. Sulu didn’t let your mind drift too long, hopping up onto your bed and nosing at your hands in an effort to get you to stroke him.

Sulu’s tongue lolled out of his mouth, tongue wagging and pounding the mattress. What was Aro playing at? What could he possibly gain from making you feed with the others tonight? Was Demetri aware of this plan? Did he think you could do it? Would he be with you? Sulu licked at your hand, his big brown eyes questioning even if he couldn’t physically ask you anything. With a quiet sigh you leaned down to nuzzle him before crossing to your wardrobe, picking something appropriate to see the Masters’ in. You didn’t want to let Demetri down today, that was your biggest fear. He had helped you so much, given you so much of your life back when you thought it had been lost to you forever. The soft sound of scratching made you look up, slipping some socks on as you padded back to your room. Demetri lay on his side, fingers scratching at Sulu’s tummy.

“Heidi will be here any moment.” He said by way of greeting. You internally flinched. Not the news you wanted to hear. Apparently your silence was disconcerting to him and Demetri looked up with a frown, his eyes raking your body slightly while you avoided the dark burgundy irises, knowing they would see through every façade you put on.

“Great.” You murmured, moving towards your shoes by the door. You had barely jammed your feet into them when warm hands pulled you into a sturdy chest. The familiar softness of his lips found your temple, and you unwittingly relaxed into his grip.

“Stop worrying so much, you will be fine.” He promised. The affection was a tad overwhelming to your already overworking mind but you let yourself drown in it anyway.

“What if I mess up? I don’t want to go back to the dungeons.” You whispered, voice wavering slightly. Demetri squeezed your hips.

“You have nothing to fear. I will be right there with you.” His reassurances were sweet in your ear and before you knew it he had led you hand in hand to the throne room. Exchanging a long look with him, you squeezed his hand tighter in the hopes he’d know not to let go. The rest of the guard had already assembled, the Masters’ stood waiting to greet their tourists. Alec and Jane glanced towards you, Felix sending you the briefest of smiles. A few murmurs went up around the room and Demetri silenced them with a fierce glare.

“Ah, young Y/N. How wonderful to see you again. I have heard good things from the others.” Aro greeted you with an extended hand and you silently wished he hadn’t, wanting to keep your worries private. Still, you knew it wasn’t a request. Aro rifled through your thoughts like it was a slideshow put on just for him, and you dared not make eye contact as he chuckled. He neither confirmed nor denied your fears, simply let Demetri lead you away towards his station in the room. His hand was tight around your own.

“You will be fine darling, just remember all you have learned. No one is expecting perfection.” He promised you.

“I am.” Caius muttered, a sadistic grin spreading on his lips. You tensed up, hearing the familiar click of Heidi’s heels. It was followed by a gaggle of voices, a thousand beats of thudding hearts and the crash of blood rushing through veins, a similar sound to what your hazy mind could recall hearing at the Niagara Falls once when you visited. You tightened your grip on Demetri’s hand, holding your breath as he had taught you to do. His thumb moved in slow circles over the back of your hand. It felt like a small stretch of eternity had passed before Heidi even opened the doors, flashing you a bright grin as she went and introducing the end of the tour. Aro stood, all beaming smiles and clapping hands.

“Welcome! Welcome friends, to Volterra!” he cried, spreading his arms wide. You could shut off your lungs but not your ears. A cacophony of heartbeats and breathing and shuffling feet grated on your ears, every little sound rattling against your already frayed nerves. It was difficult to focus on Aro’s speech as it rambled on and on, Demetri squeezing your hand every now and then the only thing really grounding you – that and your fierce determination to prove every smug guard looking your way wrong. Clearly nobody expected you to last, and you couldn’t honestly blame them. Your patience was wearing thin, your throat feeling like someone had shoved a red hot poker down into its depths.

“Easy, Y/N, try to think past your thirst,” Demetri murmured. You hadn’t even realised you’d leaned forward until you were pulled back against his chest, his arms wrapped around you tightly. “Do not let them win, you are stronger than this.” He whispered, so low only you would hear. You grit your teeth, tearing your eyes away from the throbbing skin of a woman’s pulse.

“I can’t.” you hissed.

“You can.” He said firmly, tightening his grip on you. It was a horrific feeling, being unable to stop your mind from slipping away from you, but you could feel the frenzy taking hold, taking root in your mind. It was impossible to think past the roaring in your head and you instinctively began to struggle against Demetri’s hold, the warmth of his embrace starting to feel suffocating.  There was a man across from you, a living, breathing human, with blood flowing beneath the surface of sweat dewed skin and a heart that was pounding in your ears, a tattoo in your brain you couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“And so concludes your tour…I do hope you enjoyed your stay.” You could hear him, but Aro’s words had no meaning in your head, no definition connected to any of them. They were empty, meaningless. Demetri’s grip suddenly disappeared and your head snapped around, teeth bared. He smiled slightly, giving you a nod.

“Now?” you ground out.

“Go ahead my love.”

You were away like a bullet from a gun, turning and launching yourself at the human opposite you. You’d never fed in such a public space, so many people around you, so many onlookers, but it didn’t seem to matter to you in that moment as instinct took over. You were lost to that first, hot burst of blood, drowning in complete ecstasy as a maelstrom of violence erupted around you. Your mind slowly filtered back to you as you drank, the fire clearing and conscious thought becoming easier. Picking your next target was more strategic than the first, since you had to avoid Santiago’s deadly glare as you did so, and by the time your woman of choice was limp in your arms there was a warm body behind yours.  You sank into him immediately, falling back against his chest. His breath was still warm on your ear from the blood of his chosen victim.

“How bad do I look on a scale of one to ten?” you mumbled as the last of the screams died away. Demetri chuckled.

“To me, cara mia, you are always Aphrodite personified.” He promised. You smiled slightly, sure you would blush if you still could. Demetri was always dropping little compliments like that, and they almost always succeeded in making you forget where you were. It wasn’t until Aro’s slow applause echoed about the room that you remembered exactly where you were. Your head snapped toward him and you swallowed, glancing down at your shirt. You weren’t…messy, per say, but you certainly weren’t as spotless as the others.

“Well done young one, it seems Demetri has taught you well; I expected nothing less, of course.” He glanced to the tracker who stood a bit taller behind you.

“She is wearing half of her victim.” Caius sneered. You ducked your gaze a bit in embarrassment.

“But her control was applaudable, I admit I was betting against you.” Alec’s voice was warmer than usual and that mischievous sparkle was in his eye once more – he clearly enjoyed proving Caius wrong.

“Er…thanks?” you replied uncertainly. Demetri chuckled.

“If you would excuse us, Masters’, I think someone needs a fresh change of clothes.” He teased. You groaned softly but let him lead you from the room when Aro granted permission to do so. The walk back to your quarters was silent, but the air between you was charged. There were so many thoughts and feelings you had accrued in your head over the past 8 months, so many things you hadn’t actually said to him.

“Thank you.” You figured it was a good place to start. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“For what? You did that all on your own.” He pointed out. You shook your head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear and grimacing when your hand came back bloody.

“But you taught me to do that. You’ve taught me a lot, actually. I just...thank you, for giving me a chance to learn and not just…you know.” You trailed off awkwardly. Demetri paused, seemingly deliberating what he wanted to say before with a quiet sigh, he clasped the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“You were the only one to survive you know, the only newborn that lived that day, because I selfishly could not imagine a world without you in it. Everything I do I do to keep you by my side, my motivations are the most selfish…you have no reason to thank me.” He murmured, his expression soft and adoring. You blinked, sure you were seeing and hearing wrong, but his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly as if to confirm his words. So he wanted you huh? The news warmed your soul, or whatever was left of it. It felt like the right moment.

“I love you.” You whispered. A hint of a smile crossed his lips.

“I have waited for those words.” He confessed, moving his lips from your forehead to his own.

“I love you.” You mumbled, already intoxicated by the merest brush of his lips on yours. Demetri hummed.

“One more time.”

“I love you.” You smiled, winding your arms around his neck. Demetri’s kiss was all consuming, deep and desperate in his effort to show you exactly how he had felt for the past 8 months since the day you had met. It was an outpouring of love and devotion and all the good kinds of things that made your toes curl, your heart soar.

“You need another shower.” He murmured, but his lips didn’t relinquish yours. You giggled, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. His low growl made your knees weak.

“In another moment of selfishness, are you planning on offering me yours?” you questioned. Demetri had lifted you off of the floor in a matter of seconds, grinning now.

“I’ll be as selfish as you let me my love.”

[ladykissingfish]

Bedtime with the Akatsuki (Part 1/2)

Pein Nagato worked hard to put together the group known as the Akatsuki, but he works even harder to keep them all together. It’s difficult, considering the group contains so many clashing sets of personalities, so many different desires and beliefs. Nagato has read before that sharing a meal can foster a sense of bonding and communication within a group of diverse people, so he makes it a rule that whoever is home in the evenings must sit together at the table and share dinner together. The others balked at this at first, but after several first disastrous attempts (and several wonderful meals put forth by Konan) it quickly became something everyone looked forward to. For an hour, negativity could be dropped, rivalries and grudges temporarily forgotten as the group broke bread with one another. The Pein-body doesn’t eat, but Nagato listens through him, and is able to see these people that he chose to serve his cause, as PEOPLE. After dinner, after making sure that everyone is clear on the next day’s upcoming missions, the Pein-body goes to his room, and shuts down for the evening; and Nagato spends the night in much-needed sleep. Sasori Sasori doesn’t eat, so unless he’s feeling particularly bored/in want of some company, he won’t join the others for dinner. Sasori partakes in bathing rituals every night, although not in the way an organic human does; he keeps himself clean with scented wood-centric polishes. He’s surprisingly vain of his red hair, and will comb/wash and dry, with real shampoos, each night. Also spends a lot of time cleaning up Hiroku, as this is the main form that everybody sees him in. What’s “bedtime”? This man/boy/puppet doesn’t sleep. However, if asked Sasori would state that nighttime is his favorite time of the day. Everybody else is either asleep or on an overnight mission, meaning the hideout is quiet and Sasori can work on his puppets uninterrupted. If he knows that he and his partner have a mission coming up the next morning, he will sit with the maps and carefully plot out the quickest, most convenient route for them to take to reach their destination. During the long night, or during a lull in his work, Sasori might pause and go outside, sitting on a tree stump and staring up at the inky sky. Evenings remind him of happier times with his grandmother, who used to tell him stories about the Gods who resided amongst the stars. Foolish, maybe, and made-up, obviously; but still immensely satisfying to a little boy who needed to be distracted from the pain of missing his mother and father. Sometimes Sasori will be joined by the insomniac Itachi, and the two will sit quietly side by side, both lost in their own thoughts (but grateful for the company). Deidara Besides being young, there’s another reason why Deidara is so slender; he barely eats as much as he should, or when he should, or WHAT he should. If left to his own devices at night, the kid will sit on his bed and eat snacks. Chips, candies, pastries; Deidara has almost as bad a proclivity for sweets and junk food as Tobi, although he would never admit this. If it’s one of the fabled Family Dinner™️ nights, he will join the others ... but between him and Hidan fighting to make their voices the loudest at the table, neither gets much food into their mouths (which is a shame, because whatever Konan makes is always delicious). Beauty like Deidara’s doesn’t just happen; it takes a lot of meticulous prep work and a very disciplined routine to keep the blonde looking the way he does. While he saves the majority of his work for the morning, one thing he can’t neglect in the evenings is his hair. Dividing the locks into sections, combing, oiling, and brushing until it shines; by the end Deidara’s arms feel ready to fall off ((again)), but it’s worth it. He also takes care of his eyes; nobody knows this but Deidara has suffered from severe dry eye since he was a kid. He puts in eye drops each night, and gently massages the muscle to keep them vital. As he goes through his routines, he (very softly) sings. To the others,

he’s always maintained that he doesn’t remember anything about his parents; but in reality, he can vividly remember his mother. And mom liked to sing. Before bed he also likes to get in some exercise (push-ups mostly, as he’s trying to strengthen his arms back up). If he’s in a rare good mood, he’ll allow Tobi to sit on his floor and talk to him for a bit. He’s been made to work with this guy for a while, and he stills knows almost nothing about him. Sometimes Deidara thinks he’s just a simple-minded buffoon, but sometimes he seems like ... more. Sometimes the veil is lifted and Deidara sees glimpses of a very different Tobi. A calm Tobi, a quiet Tobi. A Tobi who had a damn brain on his head. Sometimes Deidara thinks that the guy might be — but then the idiocy comes back in full force and Deidara just sighs and tells the kid to go to bed. It takes FOREVER for the artist to fall asleep (his thoughts are always racing so fast that it’s hard for him to shut them off entirely), but once he does, he’s down for the count. He’s learned the hard way that when he sleeps he has to wear gloves on both hands, because the mouths on Lefty and Righty have the unfortunate habit of drooling, and Deidara doesn’t like waking up in a soggy mess. He’s also learned that he has to lock his door, or he risks the chance of being visited by prankster Hidan or Mr. I-Had-A-Nightmare-Senpai-Can-I-Sleep-With-You- Tobi. Itachi Itachi is not much one for eating a big meal at night ... well, at ANY time, really. He can be coaxed by Kisame or Konan to eat snatches of things at the beginning or end of dinner, but you’ll never see this guy with a full plate (or a full belly). After “dinner”, one of the few joys in the young brunette’s life is an occasional nightly bath ((as opposed to his normal routine of morning showers)). Steaming hot water, scented oils, time to wash his hair and moisturize his face — the only time anybody has ever seen Itachi lose his cool calmness was the time that Tobi broke the bathtub and Itachi couldn’t take a single night-bath for the week. But as for sleep, well; Itachi has been existing off of three hours a night, MAX, since before he’d even joined the Akatsuki. Nobody can figure out how he lives like this, unless the Sharingan gives the guy some sort of magical staying-awake powers. And to make matters worse, he’s an ultra-light slumberer; even the tiniest of noises will have his eyes wide open and his ears straining in the darkness to identify possible danger or threats. To compensate for the lack of good rest, Itachi will spend a good deal of time BEFORE laying down in meditation. Being able to put his mind fully at ease, even if he can’t achieve the same for his body, is what keeps him from going completely insane. Although he doubts that the others care about his well-being, in truth everybody expresses some mild concern for Itachi’s worrisome habits. Kisame has even approached Sasori, who is a master herbalist, about making a sleeping pill that he could slip into Itachi’s nightly cup of tea. Sasori won’t do it, because he has no desire to drug his fellow teammate — but he IS working on a tea variant itself that might help Itachi catch a few more Zzz’s per night.

[catxsnow]

SPITFIRE J.T.

Summary: Maybe working with the Red Hood wasn’t as bad as you thought it was going to be. 

Warning: Suggestive Sexual Content but nothing major. Jason getting his ass kicked

A/N: I love Jason Todd more than myself. Welcome to my TED Talk

getting 100+ notes on my Puppy Love absolutely warmed my heart, thank you for the support!!

GIF is not mine - I’ve always been a fan of Matthew Daddario as Jason I’m sorry if think otherwise!

Word Count: 3.7k

The thing about being a hero, was that you never felt like a hero.

No matter who you took down, it was never going to be enough. There was always going to be someone to replace the person you caught.  Always someone bigger, badder, and harder to defeat than the last. After years of going through the motions, it was hard to see that your tactics changed to being more violent, more aggressive, but never lethal.

When you first started the game, you would try to make sure that no one would get hurt - including the people that you were going after. Now? Well, you'd have to wipe the blood off your suit and hide the bruises on your knuckles. You were dangerous, but that didn't mean that crime ever feared you.

The first time you saw him, you wondered who dared to try and take your city away from you and your protection. It wasn't hard to find him with his shining red helmet and the echo of ricocheting bullets. You were pissed to begin with that he was there but the fact that he was using guns as well? That just ticked you off.

Your first encounter was bloody, bruised, and maybe even broken. He was standing on the roof top, watching the people down below to see what was going on. After being in the hero game for a while, it was a little too easy to sneak up on people. He was just as surprised to feel a boot slam into his back with such force that he fell forward.

Your costume was sleek, skin tight, and as dark as the night itself. It took him half a second to realize that it was just a girl that had taken him down. His brief moment of underestimating you had been a mistake and you had taken the opportunity.

In a quick, precise, sequence of attacks, you took Jason down in seconds. You knew that one of his shoulders were popped out of place and the wind was knocked out of him. Your foot pressed into his chest the second he landed on his ass. His guns were knocked out of his hands and he was rendered defenseless by someone he didn't even know.

"Get out of my city," You nearly threatened him. This red helmet guy never said a word and you left without another. If you could take him down that easily the first time then you doubted that he was much of a threat - especially when he was hiding behind guns as a weapon.

Jason was in awe of you the moment that he saw you standing above him. However, he was also extremely pissed off - and that was something you should have been worried about. But, after not seeing him again for a week, the thought of him was out of your mind and you didn't think that he was going to come back.

That was your mistake.

Jason Todd was not the kind of person that someone should have messed with and you had pissed him off the second you laid eyes on him. While you thought he was gone from your home, he was actually picking up on your nightly routine. Where you would go as a vigilante, what your fighting style was like, he knew you just as much as you knew yourself.

You had been in the hero game for a while now. After seeing kids being slaughtered on your last day of high school, you wanted to make sure that no other kid had to go through that as well. Instead of going to like post-secondary like you had wanted, you had trained and trained until you knew that you could take down anyone that stood in your way.

Ten years later and you were standing there about to face your greatest foe yet: the Red Hood.

After not expecting to see Red Hood again, you were taken down by surprise while out on patrol. Jason had pulled the same trick on you that you had pulled on him. He had sneaked up behind you and pinned you to the ground. You didn't think that you would ever see this man again, yet here you both were.

Jason stood above you the same way that you had all those weeks ago with the exception of having a gun pointed at your head. "Who are you?" He asked with a modulated voice. As much as he had discovered about your fighting style, he never learned about your personal life or anything about who you really were.

"Get that gun out of my face and I might tell you," You snapped. Jason didn't budge. Using your elbow, you jammed it into the side of his knee with every ounce of strength you had. Thankfully he became off balanced enough that you could get out from under him and back on your feet.

The gun that Jason held was forced out of his hand and into your own. The moment that he realized you held one of his weapons, he had pulled out an identical gun. The two of you had the guns raised at each other. You couldn't see his expression, but judging by his body, he seemed laid back - like he knew you weren't going to shoot him.

After a moment of hesitance, you grabbed the gun by the chamber and held it out for him to take back. He grabbed it out of your hand, stepping back so you were out of arms reach. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Seeing you, in that suit and holding his gun? Jason was more smitten than he wanted to admit.

"Red Hood," Jason told you upon realizing that you weren't going to attack him again. You couldn't see his face from under his helmet but he was eyeing you up like a next meal. Jason was attracted to you without even knowing what all of your face looked like.

"I thought I told you to get out of my city," You sneered at him. Jason holstered his guns and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re going to get your ass handed to you if you don’t learn to listen to me.”

"I have some business here. The sooner I'm done, the sooner I'll leave," Jason gave you a vague answer. His business had been delayed after you made an appearance in his life. An idea popped into his head. "You know this city. Give me a hand and I'll be out of your life for good."

You hated guns. You hated what they could do to people and you hated being reminded of that terrifying, awful day at the high school every time you heard a shot go off. Yet, some how, up on that roof, you agreed to help this gun slaying vigilante so that he could get the hell out of your city.

After thinking for a couple moments, you stuck your hand out for him to shake. "Deal, Red," You squeezed his hand with a little more force than necessary. "You hurt one innocent civilian in my city and I won't hesitate to kill you myself. We get your guy and then you get the hell out of here and don't come back."

"I think you and I are going to get along just fine, spitfire."

><

You hated to admit it, but you and Jason got along a little too well while working together.

It took another week and a half to gather enough information about the man Jason was after. The two of you scouted and researched during the night, stopping a few criminals along the way. Jason would watch your six and you would do the same for him. In the short time that you worked together, it seemed that you were unstoppable.

Working with him had been an experience that you weren't expecting. On the streets the two of you were vicious, nothing and no one was going to stop you. However, when the two of you were in his hotel room, trying to figure out the connections of everything going on, the air felt lighter.

He would tease you, trying to get any sort of reaction out of you. Normally, you would hate when a man would do that to you, but with Red Hood, you couldn't help but tease him right back. You only hoped that under that helmet that he was at least smiling to your jokes.

He was.

Fighting a bunch of thugs alongside of him was more fun than it had been on your own and it looked like you guys had been at it for years.

You moved in sync with him and without even having to communicate that much, he had your back and you had his. It was as if the two of you were made to fight crime together. The time that it took to find who he was after had gone by far too fast and the night that you went after him finally arrived.

It was down by the docks, a new shipment of whatever he was trying to transport being brought in. You assumed guns, weapons, maybe even drugs. Never in your time in the city had you ever seen anyone try to smuggle in shipments. The bay that you had was small and big ships never made it in. Crime lords never found it worthy to bring in such small shipments until now.

You didn't know who the man was, or what he was bringing in but it had to have been bad. The night that you and Jason went after him was cold and rainy. However, the weather wasn't going to stop all of your hard work of trying to catch this guy.

There weren't many men. Being such a small area, you had to assume that they wanted to gain the least amount of attention as possible. Even only a dozen armed men, it still caught the attention of the Red Hood, and now, you too.

You and Jason quietly and efficiently took care of all the guards protecting the ship. Once again, the two of you fought so well and you were cherishing that this was going to be your last fight together. Jason was leaving you after tonight and you were a little disappointed.

You didn't know anything about him. Not once had he ever taken his helmet off in front of you or gave you any information about who he was. You were much the same, though. Your mask stayed on and he didn't even know your vigilante name - he continued to just call you spitfire.

So why were you so upset that you were never going to see him again? You didn't know the man, and yet you found yourself wanting - needing - to know more about him. To fight crime with him like this every night.

By the time that you reached the man that Jason was after, everyone that was protecting him was unconscious on the ground and he was left unguarded. Easy to take him down and easy to see what the hell he was trying to bring into the country through your city. He gave up like a scared puppy with his tail between his legs.

You and Jason looked intimidating above him. Between his broad shoulders, wide stance, and weapons laced up his legs and your arms wrapped snugly around his neck, he was terrified.

The shipment he was trying to bring in was destroyed with the help of Jason's tech that he carried around. It was hundreds of kilos of drugs and there was no chance that you were going to let that anywhere near the people of your city. The man and his crew were tied up and awaiting the police.

You and Jason got out of there before they showed up and ended up on the same roof top that you had met. "Guess this is goodbye," You crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Thank you, Hood. I would have never discovered that shipment in time."

Jason shrugged. Upon arriving in the city, he didn't care if those drugs had gotten into the city - he cared about the guy in charge and how he could lead Jason one step closer to taking down Black Mask once and for all. After spending time with you, and seeing how much you cared for the city, he knew that he couldn't let those drugs get loose.

"Do you want to get a drink?" You asked, suddenly. "I like to think that my liquor collection is quite extensive and to be honest, I could use a hand to finish up some bottles."

Jason knew that going for a drink would mean that he would have to reveal himself to you. However, he also knew that you would have to do the same. As much as he didn't want to expose himself about his real identity, he also knew his curiosity of who you were under your own mask was to great to let go of.

So, he agreed.

The two of you jumped from roof top to roof top until you finally stopped on the roof of an apartment building. The two of you used the fire escape to sneak into your home, making sure that no one saw either of you.

Jason was in awe as he saw your home. It was a decent size studio apartment and the decor you had was simple, elegant, and nothing like he expected. Out on the streets, you were ruthless, didn't hesitate to break a few bones when necessary, and you didn't have a fear of getting your hands dirty. Your apartment didn't share the same appearance.

While you left to get out of your wet suit, Jason looked around your place. He picked up the variety of mugs that you used, wondering why you had picked each of the different designs and how much they matched your personality. Leaving your small kitchen area, he looked at the pictures you had around your home.

The picture of you and your parents caught his attention. He could tell that it was you, without your mask you were drop-dead gorgeous. Jason admired you from the picture, still shocked that you were willing to trust him with your identity. He nearly dropped the picture as you came out of your room.

Your black suit had been replaced with an old shirt with your high school logo on it as well as a pair of cotton shorts that were a little too short to wear in public. Jason was thankfully that he was still wearing his helmet, at least then you couldn't see his eyes latched onto you.

"Guess it's time for a proper introduction," You told him, sticking your hand out. "My names (Y/N) (L/N)."

Jason finally brought himself out of daze. You watched as he brought his hands up to his helmet and lifted it off his head. Your breath caught in your throat, under that intimidating red helmet was the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life. Black hair with the smallest tuft of white in the front. Bright blue eyes locked onto yours.

His jawline was sharp and he had high cheek bones that put yours to shame. You already knew just by looking at him that under that dripping wet suit of his, that his body was incredible. Broad shoulders, muscular thighs, you had to assume that his torso was just the same.

Holy shit, you had no idea he was going to be this attractive.

"Jason Todd," he finally shook your hand. "If I would have known you were this beautiful I would have tried to get you back to your place a long time ago."

"Trust me, I was thinking exactly the same thing."

><

You woke up the next morning completely naked at a strong arm wrapped around your waist. There was a slight pain in your head, but not nearly close to the worst hangover that you've had. Jason. Jason had come over and the two of you had drank away a couple of the nearly empty bottles of whiskey you had.

The night was filled with stories of the horrors each of you saw on the streets and the life threatening wounds that you had received. It felt as if it was a competition to who had seen the worst and had the worst done to them. Jason had won, easily, when he announced that he had died and come back to life.

You didn't question who had done it, or what his life was like before he died. The look in his eyes told you enough - he didn't want to talk about it. You couldn't blame him. You were basically a stranger to him and although he might have trusted you enough to not let him die, he didn't trust you with his secrets.

Jason brought the topics to something more light. He talked about the places he had seen, the people he got to meet - and even some of the iconic Justice League members he worked with. Though you thought that it was incredible that he knew someone of the biggest heroes in the world, he made sure that you knew that they were nothing like they were projected to be.

One thing led to another, drinks upon drinks, and you had ended up leading him into your bedroom. Jason proved your point that in fact every part of his body was just as incredible as you thought it would be. You had sex quite a few times, but he was easily the best - and biggest - that you've ever had.

The moment that you stirred awake, Jason's arms pulled you tighter against his bare chest. You absorbed the warmth his body radiated. Waking up like this was a rare case for you. Often times you had to leave with a walk of shame or had awoken and left your home before whoever was in your bed was would wake.

This morning with Jason felt different. Everything with him felt different. You didn't feel the need to prove yourself to him or run away in shame. From what you learned about him the night before, Jason was the kind of man that saw the flaws in a person, but he was also willing to accept them.

Jason saw your flaws and instead of running from them, he embraced them. He saw you for the person that you were, not the kind of person that you showed yourself to be in front of everyone. He was quick to realize your facade and cut through the bullshit of it.

Soft kisses trailed up your back and your neck. The warm air suddenly felt cool and a shiver raked over your body. Jason couldn't get enough of your taste, you noticed that the night before and it was the same that morning too. His lips constantly only any bare skin he could find.

"Jason," you breathed out. The moment you rolled over to face him his lips were on yours and you were succumbed into the same trance you were in last night. The warmth in you chest, between your legs, god, his touch was addicting. "Jay," you broke apart trying to get his attention.

He was supposed to leave that morning. Jason came to your apartment last night to have a drink to say goodbye and today he was going to be gone and never to return. You didn't want to get more addicted to him than you already were in the short two weeks that you worked together.

Jason met your eyes. He pushed the loose hairs out of your face and kept his hand cupped on your cheek. He didn't want to leave you that morning. Not when he felt something other than anger and frustration since he came back from the dead. He wasn't aware of what this feeling was, but he knew he needed more of it.

But you wanted him out of your city. You told him that when you agreed to help him take down this criminal. As much as he didn't want to heed to his promise, he knew he needed to. Messing with you was something that he didn't want to do. He knew how deadly you were, and he didn't dare want to get on your bad side.

Just because you slept with him, didn't mean that you wanted him to stay. At least, that was what he thought.

"How do you feel about sticking around a little longer? I could use your help to take out some more guys," You suddenly asked. Your fingers trailed up his bare chest and then began to play with the scruff on his face that had grown over the few days. It was risky to ask him, you didn't want him to think that you were clingy, but you wanted to get to know him. You wanted to appease your cravings of him.

Jason held shock in his eyes but kept from making any faces with your question. He thought you would want him gone, out of your life forever. He wasn't going to be good for you - not when your ideals of how to save the city were different. He was just thankful that your line wasn't so far back as Batman's.

You knew that sometimes, lives had to be taken to solve any real problems - you just didn't want to admit it. You knew that you could never take a life, but you also knew why Jason could. Maybe you could learn from each other, maybe you could both learn yourselves to become more suited to the world you lived in.

Maybe that feeling in your chest when you were with him was meant to be more than just an addiction. Even after all these years you had so much to learn - and not just about crime fighting, but about life too. And maybe, just maybe, it was going to be Jason that was going to be the one to teach you these things, to learn these things with him.

"I was hoping that you'd keep me around, Spitfire."

[mathom-box]

May I ask for 26, 32 and 53? 💜💜

26: What are you craving right now?

I am craving macaroni and cheese (it's almost suppertime) and a moment to write. I have so many requests, and I love them all, and I want to work on them so badly!

32: What is your favorite color?

Ehh I love midnight blue as a color, but I like all my things to be grey or black. Sometimes a light green.

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

I think I was playing cards with my family. That's sort of a nightly routine. 😄

Thanks for the asks, my friend! I see you use the two hearts like I do, and it makes me happy. 🥰 I actually started to use them when I realized I was ace, because that was the first lgbt label I ever used. It was so freeing to discover. But then, the hearts just sort of became a signature. For whatever reason you used them, I feel like I have a buddy now! 💜💜

[darkpinkyreturns]

I’ve been having a lot of thoughts about this, so here’s a post about my theories and headcanons on Dark Pinky’s telepathy! I’ll talk about where it came from, how it works, and why I think it’s vitally important to his character. Under a cut because this is pretty long.

We know the normal Pinky already has some types of superpowers. There's his telekinesis in "Fly", and his implied limb regeneration in "TV or Not TV". The telekinesis even makes a second appearance in Animaniacs #19.

Personally, I headcanon these powers aren't something he just naturally has, but a result of lab experiments. It's believable enough as a project Acme would undertake. I mean, why not try and give a mouse psychic powers? And that's where the telepathy comes in. Before I talk about Dark Pinky's appearances, there's actually another comic that's relevant here: Animaniacs #45.

If you haven't read it, the plot is that Brain's, well, brain, is expelled from his body and he and Pinky need to find a way to get it back in. Despite his disembodied brain not having any way to speak, they still manage to communicate throughout via telepathy.

It even works at a distance!

Additionally, at one point Pinky has to speak on Brain's behalf, implying that perhaps he's the only one who can communicate with him like this.

I believe that this isn't a power Brain somehow gained after being disembodied. It's all Pinky. This experience, being unable to speak with Brain via voice and needing another way to know what he's thinking, is what awakened his ability to read minds. Neither he nor Brain questions this in the story because they're rather distracted by the bizarre situation they're in, but I believe it's another manifestation of the superhuman (or supermouse?) abilities he's been granted by being experimented on.

My theory is that this story, by unlocking Pinky's telepathy, is the beginning of the Dark Pinky timeline. In the normal timeline, this never happened, that power stayed undeveloped, and he remained the kind, carefree Pinky. He had no idea at the time, but this silly adventure is the beginning of his descent into villainy.

This part is all headcanon, but here is how I think things went after that. Not long after this story, Pinky started hearing other people's thoughts from time to time, both from Brain and anyone else he was near. This time it wasn't anyone intentionally trying to communicate with him, and he picked up all sorts of things. The ability became more and more intense until his head was crowded by other people's thoughts and feelings 24/7 and, not used to this, he hadn't developed any way to control it and had no idea how to turn it off.

Pinky was now stuck in unending sensory overload, and it started taking his toll on him. Too much exposure to the feelings of others made his formerly strong sense of empathy become numb with overuse and he had to stop caring about anyone to endure it. He was perpetually exhausted and becoming more bitter every day.

In terms of his relationship with Brain, it just wasn't the same anymore. They could no longer do their classic "Are you pondering what I'm pondering?" routine because Pinky was pondering what he was pondering, involuntarily, all the time. He now also had a front row seat to all the fallacies in Brain's thinking, all his internalized issues, and the way he constantly made the same mistakes over and over again. Pinky's affection started waning as Brain became boring and annoying to him.

Eventually, Pinky couldn't take the now-agonizing nightly routine anymore and took control of all the plans, relegating Brain to a sidekick he only used for his technical knowledge. With him in charge, they succeeded very quickly and Pinky now ruled the world. Once in power, he reshaped society into a comic book theme because if there's one think about him that didn't change, it's that he still loved comic books.

And yes, here we are at Dark Pinky. At the point we see him, he has gained control of his powers somewhat and as long as he keeps a level head, can push the thoughts of others into the background unless he chooses to focus on them.

And now I have one last thing to talk about: the scene where he reads the normal Pinky's mind.

I don't think this has to be a "Pinky is an idiot so his mind is a madness-inducing void" joke. I have a far more interesting theory. Notice how he gets the idea of making Dark Pinky read his mind right after having a tender moment with Brain. What he intentionally broadcast into Dark Pinky's mind wasn't nothing. It was his love for Brain, which he knew would devastate Dark Pinky, especially after he'd just killed his own Brain. It worked and took him out of commission easily, because he absolutely cannot handle experiencing that love again, for the first time in who knows how many years.

For further evidence towards this, just look at what he says the next time we see him.

He says it himself! Reading Pinky's mind made him desperate to meet Brain again. That incident revived his love for him and his erratic antics in #25 are just him coping with that very poorly.

I hope this was interesting! I’ve got even more thoughts about Dark Pinky because this evil little mouse lives in my brain at this point but I think this is enough for today.

[deancas-fanfiction]

A Daydream Away

Chapter 1/?

Summary: After multiple couples go missing from a resort in northern Minnesota, Dean and Cas are forced to pose as a couple to investigate the mysterious entity. As Dean and Cas navigate their fake relationship, it leaves Dean questioning what's real and forces him to confront his feelings for Cas.

A story in which Cas is human, Dean is sometimes an idiot, and Sam acts as matchmaker.

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: fake relationship, case fic, sharing a bed, human!cas, Sam ships Dean and Cas, fluff, eventual smut

available on ao3 Read Ch. 2 Here

“I think I found us a case,” Sam announced, entering the Dean Cave with his nose buried in his laptop.

Dean sighed in irritation, pausing the movie he and Cas were in the middle of watching. “This better be good, if you’re interrupting our movie night. You know we’re in the middle of Half Blood Prince, and Cas hasn’t seen it.”

“Metatron did upload the movie content into my –” Cas argued, but stilled at Dean’s murderous glare.

“Being told what happens and actually experiencing it are two very different things, Cas. You have to experience it firsthand.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue but didn’t get the chance, as Sam interrupted him by loudly clearing his throat.

“Are you two done?” Sam looked at the two of them in irritation and Dean had to stifle a laugh at the almost stern expression on his face.

“Sorry, Sammy. The floor is yours. Tell us about your case.”

“Okay, so get this. There’s this resort called Grand View Lodge in Nisswa, Minnesota where couples have reportedly gone missing. In the past month, three couples have disappeared without a trace. No evidence of foul play and all of their personal belongings were left behind as were their vehicles. None of the other guests saw or heard anything.”

“That does sound suspicious,” Cas agreed. “Did the missing persons have anything in common?”

“All I can ascertain from the articles and social media posts is that the couples were very happily in love and were staying there on their honeymoon. But there isn’t a lot of information out there. I think we need to check it out, but we’ll need to pose as a couple if we want to gather information and attempt to lure whatever entity this is.”

“Go for it,” Dean shrugged. “When are you and Eileen leaving?” Dean noted the sudden look of discomfort on Sam’s face as he awkwardly shifted the laptop to his other hand.

“So that’s the thing…”

Dean groaned. “Of course.  It’s never that simple.”

“Eileen is on a hunt in Ohio right now. She just got there, so she won’t be back in time.”

“What about Jody? Or Donna?”

Sam shook his head. “Neither can get off work. Claire and Kaia are both out on a hunt, too. That leaves just the three of us.”

“So…?”

“So, that means you and Cas will need to pose as newlyweds, and I can come as backup. The resort is looking for temporary help for the holiday season so I can work at the front desk and interview the employees for information, while you guys can lure the entity and interview the guests.”

Dean choked on his beer and barely managed to sputter out a response. “You want me…and Cas… to pose as a couple? Are you serious?”

“Fine.” He shrugged.  “Me and Cas will pose as a couple then, and you can get a job there. I just thought you’d prefer not to work at a customer service desk.”

Dean felt a flash of irritation surge through him at Sam’s suggestion. The idea of Sam and Cas posing as a couple left a bitter taste in his mouth. Imagining them holding hands or having a romantic dinner just the two of them caused him to involuntarily clench his teeth and form a fist. He wasn’t jealous. No really, he wasn’t. It just – wasn’t right, okay? Sam and Cas probably wouldn’t be able to even pull off posing as a couple. So really, for the sake of the case, Dean should agree to pair up with Cas. All for the sake of the case. That’s all.

Suddenly Deans thoughts consisted of posing as a couple with Cas. Well, not just a couple, but Cas’ husband. Dean’s mouth went dry and oh. Okay. That scenario suddenly seemed a lot more pleasant. They’d have to hold hands, but really, that wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe add a few lingering touches and cutesy nicknames into the mix. But that shouldn’t be too bad, he’s used to Cas being in his personal space. In fact, he’s sort of grown accustomed to it at this point. Cas has always gravitated towards Dean’s personal space. While it was a mild irritation at first, it evolved into a comfort as it was something so expected. Besides, since Cas became human with the help of Jack, they’ve spent much more time together. Movie nights were nearly a nightly occurrence at this point. Their thighs always pressed against each other as they fight over the shared bowl of popcorn. Or in the mornings, when Dean rests his hand on Cas’ lower back for balance so he can reach a mug from the top shelf. Or when Dean tries to teach Cas how to properly play pool by standing behind him, helping him aim the cue. Really, the list goes on. So, pretending to be married shouldn’t be that much different than their current dynamic.

Huh. That’s a new revelation. Before that thought can cause too much panic, he buries it deep inside and ignores the way it made his stomach swoop. “No, no. You’re right.” Dean cleared his throat in an attempt to hide the way his voice sounded borderline frantic. “I would be a terrible employee. I would probably be fired for flirting with the guests or yelling at my boss.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Okay, great. So, you and Cas can pose as newlyweds, just as I suggested. I’ll book the cabin and we’ll head out early in the morning.” He stomped out of the room and Dean mirrored his brother, rolling his eyes in return.

Cas wordlessly grabbed the remote and pressed play, leaning back into Dean as the movie resumed.

---

The next morning, they were on the road much too early, in both Dean and Cas' opinion. They stayed up later than was probably wise to finish their movie. Then Cas had questions, to which Dean had to patiently answer and suddenly it was nearly two in the morning. Meanwhile, Sam was bright eyed and happily sipping his thermos of coffee as he lowered himself into the Impala.

"Dean, if you wanted to keep sleeping I could --"

"Don't you dare." Dean warned. "I'm driving, now shut your mouth." He heard Sam sigh in response and turned the key, feeling the car rumble beneath him. He pulled out of the garage and turned onto the road, getting a start on the nine-hour drive to Nisswa.

The first hour of the drive was nearly silent. The radio played quietly in the background as all three occupants took the time to fully wake up. Every now and then Cas would nudge Dean's arm from the backseat, his silent way of asking for Dean's coffee. Dean would roll his eyes, but nevertheless pass him the thermos with a smile tugging at his lips.

The silence wasn't broken until Cas complained that Dean finished the coffee. This, of course, prompted into an argument over who was entitled to the last sip of the coffee, only to be broken by Sam's frustrated interjection.

"Guys. Cut it out. You can get more coffee when we stop for gas."

"Gas station coffee is not the same as bunker coffee."

"Yeah, they don't have almond milk at gas stations, Sam."

"See? Not the same." Dean chirped, enjoying teaming up with Cas against Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and changed the subject. "We should probably discuss the case in more detail before we arrive."

"What's left to discuss? Couples went missing while banging on their honeymoon. Probably a routine salt and burn of some pissed off ghost."

"Delicately put, jackass." Sam scoffed. "I was thinking, we should discuss your relationship with Cas."

"My what?" Dean's pulse quickened and he internally cursed his body for betraying him.

"Your relationship with Cas. You know, for the case. We need to come up with a back story so that way if someone asks how you met, Cas won't say 'I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition.'"

"That is how we met, though." Cas insisted.

"Dude, you can't just tell people that!"

"We just need to think of a way to twist it, so it sounds normal." Sam explained. "So, for example, Dean could say he met Cas during a bad time in his life and Cas saved him."

"That's putting it lightly," Dean commented. "Cas? Does that work with you?"

"Fine."

"You're grumpy today." Dean observed, meeting Cas' eyes in the rearview mirror.

"I'm not grumpy. I'm tired. And I didn't get my full amount of coffee."

"You drank your whole thermos and half of mine. How much do you normally drink?"

"More than that."

"You have a caffeine addiction, you know that?"

"Well, at least you two already have the bickering of a married couple down." Sam half joked.

Dean rolled his eyes and focused back on the road; lips drawn into a straight line.

"What else do we need to cover?" Cas resigned, breaking the silence that once again settled over the car.

"Length of relationship."

"Ten years." Cas answered easily.

Sam pursed his lips. "Why don't we say you've been together for 5 years, and friends for the first 5. That will make you fit the same profile as the other missing couples a little more closely."

"Jesus, Sam. We'll be fine, we've been in situations like this before."

"I just don't want your cover blown. We have no one else to fill in. We need to discuss what your wedding was like, who proposed, how long you were engaged --"

Dean cut him off with a sharp look. "The wedding was small, just close family and friends. No one proposed, we both talked about it and together we agreed to get married. The engagement was short, less than a year. How's that for our cover?"

"That's great. Cas, did you get all that?"

"Yes. Can we stop and get more coffee now?"

"I thought gas station coffee wasn't good enough for you?"

"It's not. There's a Starbucks at this next exit. I saw a sign."

"Cas, we're not even halfway there yet. Dean's not going to stop yet."

But sure enough, Dean was already turning towards the exit, cataloguing the way Cas' lips turned up at the corner.

The remaining hours of the trip passed rather quickly. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in tune to his Zeppelin tape, Sam read lore in preparation of the case, and Cas happily watched the passing snow-clad landscape while sipping on his venti coffee.

As they neared the town of Nisswa, the scenery gave way from a frozen landscape with nothing but bare trees and the occasional truck stop to boutique shops, rustic restaurants, and log-cabin-like structures that served as hotels and cafes. As they neared their turn off the highway, Sam requested to be dropped off in town so he could secure a car rental and check into his own hotel. Sam would be interviewing for the seasonal front desk position early the next morning, so he couldn't be seen arriving with Dean and Cas.

"Oh! Before I forget --" Sam paused after stepping out of the Impala and dug around in his bag. He retrieved two gold bands and handed one to Dean and Cas. "Your wedding rings."

Dean slipped his on and scowled at his brother. "Where did you get these?"

"A pawn shop," Sam said sheepishly. "I grabbed them when I went out on a supply run last night. Don't lose them - I'm pretty sure they're actually gold."

"It's probably a knock off and will turn our fingers green."

"No, Sam is right," Cas observed. He held the ring close to his face, carefully scrutinizing it. "It's 24k gold. It's actually quite good quality."

"Thank you, Cas." Sam said pointedly. "You two better get going and check in. I made your reservation under "Smith." I'll be at the resort tomorrow morning for my interview. I made a very persuasive resume so I should be hired no problem. Just keep your phones on you and check in with me occasionally, yeah?"

"I know how to do my job, Sam. Cas and I will get settled in then we'll talk to some of the guests at breakfast tomorrow morning. Don't worry about us. Worry about your interview," Dean said with a wink. "Cas, you've been upgraded to shotgun, let's go."

With that, Sam stepped away from the car, making room for Cas to climb in. "Be careful, guys."

"Yeah, you too," Dean replied. Cas then shut the door and Dean pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the highway. "You ready for this?"

Cas nodded, fidgeting with the gold band on his finger. "We met 10 years ago and started dating 5 years ago. A few months ago, we decided to get married and we had a small wedding with our closest family and friends. Now we're on our honeymoon."

"Yeah, that - that's good."

Dean cautiously glanced over at Cas. His hair was tousled from leaning against the window, with the left side matted down and the right side sticking straight out. He had an air of contentment radiating from him, no doubt from the dangerously high levels of caffeine racing through him. Since becoming human, Cas formed a very dependent relationship with both coffee and sleep. Sleeping became his favorite pastime as he was finally able to experience dreams. However, that meant he would often sleep for the better part of the morning, only begrudgingly getting out of bed when Dean would pound on his door to inform him breakfast, and more importantly coffee, was ready. Even then, Cas would be grumpy until he was halfway through his second cup of coffee.

Dean would never admit it to anyone, but he always enjoyed his morning routine with Cas. Cas would silently sit at the table, watching Dean dish up breakfast. Dean would slide a fully loaded plate of eggs and bacon towards him and watch as he took his first bite. Cas would always groan in appreciation (which okay, maybe Dean enjoyed that part a little too much, but he would never admit to that either) and then Dean would refill Cas's mug. At that point Sam would enter the kitchen, just back from his run and openly making a disgusted face at the heaping pile of bacon on Dean's plate. Ignoring him, Dean would sit next to Cas, and Cas would scoot closer to Dean, soaking in his body heat due to the endless cold draft in the bunker. That's the only reason Dean would lean back into him. No other reason, whatsoever, regardless of the knowing look on Sam's face.

Dean ended his train of thought there and signaled for the coming turn which featured a large stone sign with "Grand View Lodge" neatly printed on it. The road was illuminated by string lights and lanterns along it and Dean could see cabins in the trees along the road, with warm yellow lights illuminating the darkness around them. The Impala's headlights shone on a sign directing them towards the main lodge for check-in. The resort grounds seemed beautiful and very quiet. Dean could understand why it was a popular destination for newlyweds. The cold winter air made the glowing cabins seem all the cozier. He could imagine the resort in the summer, filled with families and children running towards the lake with sunscreen and beach towels in tow. It would be quite the opposite than it is now, in mid-December with below zero temps and not a single person in sight.

The first sign of life they saw was the dozen cars parked outside of the main lodge for check in, otherwise no one was out of their cabins. "It's going to be hard to talk to the guests when it's this cold. No one will want to leave their cabin." Dean frowned.

"Sam said there's an optional itinerary over the weekend for all of the guests. We'll have to sign up for some activities so we can interview them."

Dean sighed. "As long as it involves free food, I'm in." He put the car in park and traded the warmth for the frigid cold. It was a sharp cold that hurts your lungs as you breathe it in. It was the kind of cold that you don't spend time in unless you have to. Dean pulled the jacket tight against him and motioned for Cas to follow him inside.

The main lodge was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. The interior was covered in dark wood, with large leather couches set in front of a roaring stone fireplace. A small gift shop was off to the side and there were large rustic chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Dean could hear silverware clattering and subdued conversation which hinted to the presence of a restaurant down the hall. The front desk was near the doors and they quickly approached to check in.

"Good evening," The receptionist beamed. Her name tag identified her as Brenda. "Welcome to Grand View Lodge. Have either of you stayed with us before?"

"No, Ma'am," Dean responded, leaning against the desk.

"Well, welcome!" She said cheerfully. Dean could already anticipate that she and Sam will get along perfectly once he’s hired. "Here's a map of the resort grounds for your reference. It shows all of our cabins and the four restaurants we have on site. You can dine in or order room service. All of that information is on the back of the map. Now, can I get the name your reservation is under?"

"Dean Smith."

Brenda typed in the name and clicked a few times then looked up at Dean and Cas grinning. "You should have mentioned you were on your Honeymoon! Congratulations, love birds!" Dean felt his face heat up and avoided eye contact with Cas. 'Minnesota Nice' was very real and it was making Dean very uncomfortable.

"Thank you," Dean choked out. "Could we get our keys now? We just had a really long drive and we're tired."

"Oh, of course! I don't want to delay your honeymoon activities," she stated not-so-subtly. She opened a drawer and handed Dean two key cards. Then she grabbed their resort map and circled their cabin number.

"Do you have a list of activities you offer?" Cas questioned.

"Oh! Yes! This weekend we offer both wine and bourbon tasting, depending on your preferences. We also offer couples' cooking classes, and our spa is open for couples' massages. I see you’re staying for a week so here's a pamphlet of all the activities we're offering this month," She explained as she handed over a brochure. "We also have an ice rink which is open until 8pm and free to all guests."

Cas opened his mouth to assumingely ask a question that would only drag out the check-in process, so Dean interrupted him.

"Great, thank you. We appreciate your help," He then grabbed Cas by the hand and pulled him back into the cold.

"She seemed nice," Cas observed.

"Too chipper. Sam will love her."

Cas laughed at that. It was the kind of laugh that shows his perfectly white teeth and makes his eyes slightly crinkle. It was the kind of laugh that was Dean's absolute favorite.

Dean glanced at the map, noting where to drive to get to their cabin. It appeared to be a short drive from the main lodge. He started the car and turned back onto the gravel road they entered on. Following the signs, they were led along a winding road towards the south end of the grounds, where the now frozen lake is located. The trees were dense, and the cabins were growing sparser as they continued along the road. At last, they pulled up to a quaint log cabin that matched the number on their keys. The cabin had large windows and a wrap-around porch that would be perfect to utilize in the summer and fall. The porch light was on, illuminating the front yard which was littered with large pine trees.

He put the Impala in park, and they grabbed their bags out of the backseat. The night was still and silent. There were no lights except for those on the porch. A large expanse of stars and sky nearly took Dean’s breath away. Growing up, Dean would always take solace in the night sky littered with millions of stars. With the ever-constant change of living on the road, the stars were always there. When John would drink too much or be gone too long on a hunt thereby forcing Dean to parent Sam, he would step outside of their usual run-down motel and take a deep breath, taking in the stars. As they got older and Sam’s nerd tendencies began to develop, he would tell Dean all about the constellation. They’d sit on the sidewalk with their backs against the brick motel and Sam would just talk. He’d point out the shapes in the stars and talk about the history and the namesakes behind each one. It was a most welcoming distraction from the constant shit in Dean’s life.

Even now, as he looks up at the brilliant set of stars unhindered by city lights, Dean can’t help but feel grateful for where his life is. Sure, his kid is basically God. And he’s helplessly in love with his best friend who was an angel but is now a human and probably doesn’t feel the same way about him and now he has to pretend to be his husband at a romantic resort, which can only go poorly. Then there’s the fact that his mom was dead, then she was alive, and then she was dead again. Really, just piles and piles of trauma that he’s had to deal with. But God, Dean still feels lucky. Because he has a family. He has Sam, Cas, Jack, Eileen, Jody and the girls. During those years growing up he always assumed he’d be dead before living a life like this.

A gust of wind whips across the yard, stinging all exposed skin which pulls Dean out of his spiraling thoughts. Cas is mirroring Dean from moments ago, also gazing up at the night sky. “I’ve been alive for so long yet the beauty and wonders of this life will never cease to amaze me.” Cas simply states, as if that wasn’t the most poetic shit to ever come out of someone’s mouth.

At a loss for words, Dean clasps Cas’ shoulder and leads him through the snow and into the cabin. He unlocks the door and welcomes the immediate warmth radiating from inside the cabin. The cabin is incredibly cozy. The walls are a dark wood, with leather sofas next to a large electric fireplace and a big fluffy rug. The kitchen is off of the living room, which on a normal occasion would be perfect to cook some proper meals. Then there is a beautiful wooden table in the dining room with dim lighting that would be perfect for a romantic meal. Dean cut off that dangerous train of thought before it went anywhere that made this situation even more complicated.

Speaking of complicated, Cas was no longer by Dean’s side. Frowning, he walked down the hallway that led towards the bathroom and bedroom. It was in the bedroom that he found Cas hovering in the doorway and oh.

Oh.

There was a king size bed in the center of the room with rose petals scattered over it. An ice bucket with a bottle of champagne rested in the center of the bed with a box of chocolate next to it.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Cas looked at Dean questioningly. “Who?”

“Sam. He told them it was our honeymoon! Then this happened.” He gestured at the array of items in the room.

“I see no problem with this behavior. They needed to know we were on our honeymoon for the sake of the case. And we got free champagne and sweets. Usually, you’re all about the free stuff.”

Dean sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just – never mind. It’s late and I’ve been driving all day. Guess I’m tired.” Cas just nodded and set his bag down. “So, uh –” Dean started, rubbing his hand over his face. “Want me to take the couch tonight? We can switch off every night or something.”

“Dean,” He sighed. ”You said yourself that you’re getting too old to be sleeping on couches and pull outs. Hence, the memory foam in the bunker. Besides, we’re playing the role of a newlywed couple this weekend. We should probably keep up with appearances and not make it seem like we’re already sleeping in separate beds like unhappy middle-aged couples who are too stubborn to admit they need a divorce.”

Dean barked out a surprised laugh. He loves when Cas goes on his weird tangents. “Yeah, okay Cas. That bed is huge, so it shouldn’t be a problem anyway.”

Cas just nodded and began digging around in his duffel bag. Meanwhile, Dean removed the ice bucket with champagne from the bed and set it on the dresser. Then he brushed off as many rose petals as he could, determined to clear the bed of any romantic connotation. When he was satisfied, he began stripping out of his jeans and flannel. It was a long day of driving and his body was no longer accustomed to sitting for so long, so he was ready for bed at this point.

Dean stopped mid-action, catching sight of Cas doing the same. Cas removed his jeans and then lifted his shirt over his head. Dean swallowed, trying to

tear his eyes away from his best friend’s body but holy shit – Cas is toned. As he bent over to put his discarded clothes back in his bag, the muscles in his back and legs jumped out. His golden skin was completely on display and as a result Dean’s brain was short circuiting. Panicking, he grabbed his toothbrush and locked himself in the bathroom as an attempt to get his breathing and body back under control.

So much for uncomplicated.