couldnotpersuade: (rex)
Happy Halloween! this is my final fic-or-treat, this time for[personal profile] southernmedicine for "characters from the Fallen Order and Survivor games". This one was so fun it became a triple drabble because I really wanted to make up explore some Nightsister culture. You can also read it on superlove and ao3 :D



They return to Dathomir once, after everything was done. Bogano was compromised, and they needed somewhere to lay-low. Merrin suggested it, she never quite got to say goodbye, never got to put her sisters to rest.

By some coincidence —Cal would say it's the force— they land on Dathomir on an arcane-day. Merrin realises this when she steps off of the ship and hears an echoing silence over the mountains. It doesn't take long for her to realise why, when she sees the black ribbons tied around the trunks of the grave thorns the lack of Nighbrothers guarding the cliffs.

Each coven would observe the day of the Fanged God differently, but the Nightbrothers all the same —with silence and respect to fallen Nightsisters. Merrin steps off of the ship into silence and turns back around. She is quick to push everyone back inside and hit the ramp button behind her.

"You can explore tomorrow." She tells Cal, serious enough that he doesn't question her. Cere goes back to her reading and Greez never looks up from his plants.

She refused to disturb the Nightbrothers in their silence, they deserved that much. Her own coven, her sisters, would have raised their dead today. Watched as the veil between life and death and magick thinned with each hour towards midnight. They didn't feast, or play music, but their dead would dance —for life or to celebrate death, Merrin never knew— adorned in pale white fabric that rustled as they moved.

Her dead had already been risen for too long, she wouldn't raise them for just herself anymore. She would observe with the Nightbrother's silence and a new families company. She smiled at dinner, and when she closed her eyes she could see them dancing, shadows of white fabric and soft steps.


couldnotpersuade: (cassie sandsmark)
fic-or-treat for [personal profile] linky for the prompt 'missing scene' and michael holt. also on superlove



She's got guts Michael thinks, as the reporter —as Superman's girlfriend— storms out of the room. She's clearly scared, clearly ready to do something stupid, but she insults Guy's stupid haircut which is a point in Michael's book.

He kind-of already knew what he would do when he saw Superman's location pin-pointed to Fort Kramer. When curiosity started to creep in and the urge to save reared it's head. He leans forward in his chair, digs his fingers into the back of his skull and knows the decision is made.

So it's easy to stand, grab his jacket, walk out.



couldnotpersuade: (cassie sandsmark)
fic-or-treat drabble for [personal profile] james for batfam and trick-or-treating. also on superlove :D



Tim waits perched on the low wall that lines the street of old Gotham townhouses. Orange and red leaves have been brushed up against the wall, and somewhere he can hear a child laughing. It's peaceful, for now. Almost normal. Dick told him to meet here, to wear his costume and bring a bucket. It would be ridiculous, seeing Robin in a neighbourhood known for low crime rate, if another Robin hadn't ran by.

The sun is low, the Halloween chaos will start soon. But Dick's walking down the street, bucket in-hand, and ready for the calm before the storm.
couldnotpersuade: (rex)
fic-or-treat for [personal profile] peasina for the prompts Leia and parties on a strange planet. This ended up as a double drabbles hehe, It's also posted on superlove :D



War hurts. Leia knew that, her father told her so when she signed up for this fight. Her friends laughed around her, giggling with a strange and heady alcohol in their hands. They weren't there for the hurried transmission in bathroom, didn't see the panic behind her every breath during the diplomatic dinner.

Her first loss hurt in her lungs, squeezed behind her eyes. One of the girls said something, passed her a glass with a laugh like nothing had ever gone wrong and Leia thought maybe she didn't have to let it hurt.

This planet is humid, hot even with the four moons risen, and filled with the floral scent of perfume. The arch she lent on was an orange, so far from Alderaan, and the alcohol was a sparking blue that shimmered in the warm light. It tasted like salt and sugar and buzzed like nothing mattered.

Suddenly, the music that was ringing before is beating with her pulse. Suddenly, the laughter that felt taunting beckons her to join. She can find it in herself to join the conversation, to grab a friends hands and pull her to dance.

War hurts but maybe she could pretend it doesn't.
couldnotpersuade: (jiwoo by melo)
my second work for fic-or-treat, for the prompt something with nmixx lore!, again for [personal profile] luckyzukky, you can also view it on superlove



Water laps at Haewon's ankles, up her calves, soaking through her jeans. Somewhere her heart burns, perhaps in her chest, perhaps in her throat, anticipation for what's too happen. She's in love and she sits alone at a table for two.

Haewon thinks she's been waiting for her whole life for her to meet her here. She misses her in the cavity of her chest, misses her like the sand dunes miss the sea.

She's running towards Haewon in the darkening light, running late but looking for her. Glowing like the city lights on the horizon. Turning the world golden.



couldnotpersuade: (Default)
my first drabble of fic-or-treat, for the prompt stephcass and seperation, for [personal profile] luckyzukky, you can also view it on superlove



Sometimes, in her exile, Steph dreams. It's not quite an exile and it's not quite dreaming. But she lies wide awake on her bed in the burning heat, hears cicadas sing the day away, and imagines they know she isn't dead. She'll eat her lunch and daydream that Cass called her last night, that they argued, but that she was coming home.

Cass follows her through each day, silently watching the vaccinations, telling Steph when a kid looks more uncomfortable than usual, when she needs to stop talking and wait for a patient to be ready in their own time. Steph wonders if she would be ready herself, if she went back. If Cass would be waiting for her to be alive, or if Steph would be chased by ghosts until she dies again.

In her dreams, while she watches the mosquito net flutter in a barely-there breeze, she imagines she's back in Gotham. Cass sits next too her on the edge of the bridge, thigh-to-thigh, takes her hand and presses, knuckle-to-knuckle. She never says anything, watches Steph as their breaths match and their hearts keep beating. In this dream Cass rests her free hand on Steph's thigh, leans in.