#the night shift fanfiction

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 30.

the day before the concert, tara and i spent hours putting together our perfect Falling in Reverse concert outfits. with the two of our closets combined, and with the help of Jake and Johnnies too, but they don't need to know that, we were finally content with what we were going in. clothes were scattered everywhere, but we'd worry about that later.

Tara decided on a mini skirt with 3 different belts that we had found in jakes closet, which she had stacked strategically. she took one of my blinged up hot pink crop tops that i hadn't worn since 8th grade and had that as her top. she threw a fur coat over the top of everything. she threw on her chunky black boots with spikes and a cute pair of leg warmers on to finish the look. she had been planning on the makeup she was going to do for months, but all it was was her usual makeup with pink eyeshadow and eyeliner stars on her cheek.

i ended up wearing [outfit of your choice] and paired it with [makeup of your choice].

johnnies outfit was jaw-dropping. he chose his black lace button up and obviously wore it halfway unbuttoned. he layered about 10 different necklaces and rings. he also decided on wearing a new pair of dark red skinny jeans with his usual black boots. he tied it all together with his leather jacket. for johnnies makeup, he smudged red lipstick under his eyes and streaked black eyeliner down his face.

jakes outfit was just as cunty as the rest of us; he wore a cropped black tank top paired with his favorite pair of flared jeans. he also chose his belt with bullets on it. he decided on not even bringing a jacket with his reason being "he has tattoos for a reason." he also wore platform shoes and an arrangement of bracelets, some i had never seen before. jake decided to wear no makeup to the concert.

tara slept over so it'd be easier for all of us to take the 4 hour drive early in the morning. we had decided to rent a hotel so we could all get fucked up during the concert and not have to worry about driving home when we could just call an uber. all of us were restless that night, but forced ourselves to sleep so we were really ready for the concert.

i woke up the next morning wrapped in johnnies arms, per usual. the alarm was reverberating in my ears as Johnnie was also starting to stir awake. he opened his eyes and squinted them to look at me, a small smile forming on his face. "mornin'." his groggy sleep voice greeted.

"good morning. you excited?" i asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. i climbed out of the bed and stretched, making a million different bones in my body crack at once. "we gotta hurry up and take our showers since everyone else needs to, too."

Johnnies eyes scanned over my body. he sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. "do you want to just take a shower together? it'd save time." he smirked, gently squeezing my hand before he began fidgeting with my fingers.

"i like that idea." i placed a gentle kiss on his lips before dragging him out of bed into the bathroom.

i started the shower, making sure it was nice and warm as Johnnie got undressed. i wasn't far behind him, getting undressed myself before stepping into the shower with him. the warm water on my back woke me up as much as it was relaxing. i watched as the water trickled down Johnnies body and seeped into his inked skin. he ran his moist hands down my body and grabbed the body wash. he squirted some into his hands and began to wash my body. he had nothing but admiration in his eyes as they trailed over every part of me. he made sure no part of me was unwashed before going to wash himself. i did the same for him, helping him wash every inch of his pale skin. he shampooed and conditioned my hair, and while i wash washing mine out, he cleaned his own. he kissed me softly, but passionately before turning off the shower and climbing out. he wrapped me up in a soft towel, as well as himself.

we made our way back to our bedroom to pack our 1 day trip bags quickly. i stole johnnies pair of chunky pajama pants to wear on the drive, as well as my Lana Del Rey tee that was beaten up and bruised from all of the use. i packed all of my makeup and my concert outfit. i didn't bother packing an outfit for the second day there since we were leaving and heading home as soon as we got checked out of the hotel. Johnnie packed pretty much the same thing as i did, the only difference being he did pack an outfit for the second day. he threw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a My Chemical Romance tee shirt to wear on the drive there.

there was a small knock on the door before tara's bright voice called out, "you guys up?" we both answered yeah at the same time. she opened the door and greeted me with a hug. "morning!" she greeted excitedly.

i hugged her back tight. "morning, Tar." i heard the shower start from down the hall. "damn, is Jake just now getting in?"

"yeah, it took me, like, 20 minutes to actually get him out of bed. he snoozed his alarm 3 times before i had to go in there and drag him out of bed myself." she sighed, sitting on the bed next to me.

Johnnie shut down his PC so it wasn't wasting electricity while we were away. "well, that's Jake for you."

tara rolled her eyes. "yeah, well, he needs his beauty sleep, anyway."

"did you get your bag fully packed?" i asked, tossing my bag over my shoulder.

"duh, i got everything ready." she smiled.

the three of us moved down to the living room, bringing our bags and everything else we needed with us. Johnnie sprawled himself out over the couch. i made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of water bottle and a few snacks for the road, putting them in one of my goat bags and setting it with the rest of our shit. Jake ended up joining me in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"okay, slut." i mumbled under my breath jokingly. i walked back out of the kitchen to join Johnnie on the couch.

"i know you are not talk to me, skank." he snapped his fingers and grabbed his zyns and decaf coffee off of the counter. he threw that shit in the microwave like it was nobody's business. he leaned against the counter and went on his phone.

i rolled my eyes, "is your bag even packed?"

"no," he answered nonchalantly before taking a selfie. i realized later on that he had posted it on his instagram story.

"that's wild that you're worried about your coffee right now, then." i laughed, "what if we're late to see Ronnie?" i over exaggerated.

he pursed his lips, "well, Ronnie can wait for my coffee." he smiled, taking a sip before heading up to his room.

tara had hopped in the shower immediately after jake did. she always took extremely long showers, but she made it quick today.

Jake made his way back downstairs with tara by his side less than 10 minutes later. with all of our bags and shit we needed on hand, we headed out the door.

Johnnie and I climbed into the back seat while jake and tara took the front. tara had music privileges for the first hour of the drive. her music taste was definitely different from mine, but I didn't mind it.

I leaned my head against johnnies shoulder and stared out of the front windshield, watching as all of the buildings and cars sped past. he wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand resting on my hip as he went on his phone to scroll through tiktok. my eyes flickered to his phone, watching as he reposted silly edits of himself, and of me and him, that fans had created.

Jake and tara had begun bickering about her lip smacking that annoyed jake ever so much. I felt johnnies shoulders jiggle, signaling that he was laughing. I quietly laughed along, aswell. they fought like a married couple, sometimes.

I could feel myself becoming drowsy as the car lulled me to sleep. my eyelids felt like bricks. it was way too early in the morning for this, especially when I was in and out of sleep all of last night. I gave in, letting my eyes fall shut as I slowly fell asleep on johnnies shoulder.

I woke up about an hour and a half later. johnnie was now watching Netflix on his phone. tara was passed out in the front seat, and jake was next to her, gently bobbing his head to the slower song playing on the radio. johnnie had felt me stir awake and began to rub my hip gently.

johnnie cleared his throat, "was that a good nap?" he teased.

I stretched my back before placing my head back on his shoulder. "Actually, yeah. your shoulder is a great pillow." I placed a kiss on his cheek, nuzzling my head further into his neck. "we should stop and get breakfast somewhere."

"I second that." jake stuck up one finger before rubbing his tummy. "I could eat a horse pussy right now."

his weird comment made tara finally open her eyes, as she had been stirring for a while. "what a great sentence to wake up to, jake."

he patted her knee, "sorry, sweetie."

we pulled into the closest McDonald's and bought breakfast. jake ate with one hand as he continued to drive, nearly fisting the breakfast sandwiches he had gotten. Jake and I both got coffees and the same breakfast sandwiches, a mcgrittle. we were practically twins at that point. I smiled at johnnie as he happily munched on his breakfast next to me. he smiled back.

by the time we were all done with our breakfast, we were about an hour out from the hotel. jake and tara switched seats since she offered to drive the rest of the way.

the rest of the drive was silent except for the soft music on the radio. I could tell we were all pretty tired from the long drive, and we'd all probably need a nap whenever we got to the hotel. to be fair, the coffee did wake up me and jake, though. honestly, nothing slaps like a good McDonald's coffee with extra creamer this early in the morning.

we had finally made it even earlier than we expected. I climbed out of the car and stretched, cracking my back before grabbing my things out of the car. Jake got the key card for the hotel while we unpacked the car, although there wasn't much to unpack. we brought all of our bags inside and made out way up to the hotel room.

the room was extremely nice. there were two beds, a large window with a beautiful overview of the city, and the usual hotel room accommodations.

I threw myself onto the bed I was claiming for Johnnie and i. I watched as jake filled the mini fridge with water bottles. we all took our concert outfits out of our bags so they wouldn't get wrinkled from staying cramped up for too much longer.

Jake and I ordered lunch from the hotel, although it was a pretty late lunch. the three of us started on our makeup, which influenced jake to actually do his own. he ended up smudging eyeliner in his waterline before calling it a day.

none of us changed into our outfits. we all sat on our respective beds and ate our lunch-dinner while watching some random ghost hunting show on the channel that was already on whenever I had turned on the TV.

before taking another bite, I spoke up. "are we going to leave as soon as we're ready so we don't have to wait in a long ass line to get inside?"

Jake gulped down what he was chewing. "That's what I was thinking, yeah." Tara and Johnnie agreed with him. 

after finishing our food 10 minutes later, we all got changed. I smoothed out my outfit in the mirror.

Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "you look great, baby." he smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"thank you," I turned around, hooking my arms behind his neck and kissing his lips softly.

Tara's chunky shoes clumped down the hallway as we made our way to the elevator. "over here sounding like a fucking elephant, damn." jake teased her, gently shoving her shoulder.

she shoved him back harder. "shut up, they're cute!"

Johnnie gripped my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. I scanned his whole body, admiring how good he looked in his outfit. fuck, he looked hot. I smirked slightly before turning away. a blush was painted across his face as he smiled.

Jake called the Uber as we waited out front of the hotel.

"why did you just now call it? why couldn't you have called the Uber when we were getting ready, it would've been here by now." I scolded, not actually caring, just wanting to complain and annoy jake.

"because I didn't know how long it'd take you ladies to get ready. don't act like I haven't heard the conspiracy theories about girls taking forever to get ready."

"conspiracy theories?" I repeated, "conspiracy theories is wild."

"well, they seem to be true." he crossed his arms, popping his hip out to the side.

"like you don't take 2 hours in the bathroom every morning playing with your hair." I retorted, looking around to see if the Uber was close.

"okay, well, that's different." he rolled his eyes.

"mhm, right."

the Uber arrived eventually. we all piled in the back, pretty much sitting on top of eachother. we were all buzzing with excitement, and we weren't even buzzed yet.

"I think my first goal when we get there is to get a drink," I admitted with a sly smile plastered across my face.

"I second that." Tara was fixing her makeup in her phone camera.

"me too." jake and Johnnie responded in the same tone at the same time.

the 20 minute drive to the stadium felt like a 20 year drive, but I knew that was just the excitement and eagerness getting to me.

whenever we arrived, it took us 30 minutes to get inside, which was much better than it could've been.

we wandered around the stadium, looking for a good bar that had been set up. we ran into 3 before finding one with a good menu compared to the other ones.

we hurriedly ordered our drinks and made our way to our 'seats,' although none of us would be sitting during the actual concert.

we were an hour and a half early, or at least an hour and a half early for the openers. I had high hopes for the concert, I mean, it was a rock, emo, whatever you wanna call it, concert after all.

I sat back in my seat, propping my feet up as I sipped on my drink. to say it was strong would be an understatement, even though I was far from a lightweight.

"wanna try a sip of mine?" johnnie offered, handing me his clear plastic cup.

I gratefully accepted, handing him mine in return. I hummed at the taste of his, "I think I like yours more."

"honestly, me too." he laughed. we ended up trading drinks.

tara took a video of the four of us. "holy shit, falling in reverse!" she screamed over the hundreds of other people in the stadium that were most likely saying the same shit. she ended up posting it on her story.

the openers came on with a bang. smoke covered the stage before a much smaller artist, I wasn't sure of the name, strutted onto the stage.

the crowd cheered, but not as loud as I knew it'd be whenever Ronnie came on.

the small band played 6 different songs, and they were all surprisingly good. they were more of a nu metal band compared to Falling in Reverse. I mean, I wasn't complaining.

the four of us spent majority of that time taking pictures for our Instagrams. I mean, obviously. what else would you expect?

Jake and I were on drink duty. we sped back to the pop up stand and ordered everyone the same drinks they had had before, except me and johnnies were flipped.

we made it back just in time for the openers last song. it was a bug finale, to say the least. the LED screen behind them flashed before everything went dark. the crowd roared with excitement.

we were left in the dark suspensully. i was practically shaking with excitement as i heard the low murmurs of the crowd. the LED screen turned to a dark red moments later.

finally, Ronnie walked out onto the stage with the rest of the band members following. everyone cheered and shouted as they came out on stage. johnnie and jake seemed over the moon with excitement. but, so were me and tara.

Ronnie greeted the crowd, earning a screaming mess of greetings back. he laughed before getting into the very first song.

of course, he had to open with one of his most popular songs, 'The Drug in Me is You.' I knew this song like the back of my hand, just like every other song by him.

I gripped johnnies hands, shaking him as I screamed the lyrics in his face. I was as dramatic as I could possibly get, and he returned the same energy.

Johnnie took out his phone and recorded a snippet of the first song before flipping the camera to us and pulling me in, kissing me on the lips before ending the recording. I knew his fans would eat that shit up whenever he posted it.

we went just as hard for the next few songs before another one of my favorites came on, 'Get Me Out.' I practically screeched whenever I heard the first few words of the song.

to say everyone's hair was a mess at this point in the concert would be an understatement. Me, Johnnie, jake, and tara were sweaty and dirty, but that didn't stop us in any way.

Johnnie gripped my waist tightly as we screamed the lyrics out into the crowd and towards eachother, our energy never fading.

there was a short intermission, which gave me and jake just enough time to run and grab more drinks. to be fair, all of us were pretty drunk at this point in the concert, but who was there to tell us no?

we scrambled back to our seats as we heard the drum rhythm for 'I'm not a Vampire' begin.

I could see johnnie singing the lyrics as he watched the performance on stage. since we were still a bit of a walk away, I took a picture. seeing him in the stadium lighting was heavenly, and he seemed so into the music, it just made for the perfect picture of him. I planned to set it as my lock screen as soon as we got back to the hotel.

there was not much different about the last few songs, except for the fact that I was exhausted and out of breath. I had a feeling I wouldn't have a voice in the morning, either.

as the last chord of the song rang throughout the stadium, Johnnie gripped my waist and kissed me passionately. I reciprocated, kissing him back with the same intensity. he pulled away, his eyes sparkling. "I love you."

my lower lip quivered as I couldn't help but smile. "I love you, too."

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 5: Doubt

Summary: Tav tries to be a hero. Astarion is himself.

Chapter Warnings: PG-13. Tav has a panic attack but it happens from afar and is only vaguely described. Descriptions of gore and violence. Full tag list on AO3.

Tag List: DM me or reply to a chapter if you would like to be tagged in any updates!

1 . 2. 3. 4.

There was shouting up ahead. How fun. Perhaps there would be a fight, Astarion hoped. 

“Give us back Mayrina! We know you have our sister!”

Two loud angry men have cornered the doddering old granny from the Grove against an ancient tree. One braces a pitchfork threateningly at the unarmed old lady, the other clumsily brandishes a meat cleaver. It’s obvious to Astarion that these men are farmers, not seasoned highwaymen. Then the old woman spots Tav and the pleading begins.

“Petal! Please help me, I have no idea where their sister is,” she warbles feebly. It’s not enough to move Astarion, but Tav instantly jumps to the rescue. 

“Leave Auntie Ethel alone, she’d never hurt anyone!” Tav declares. Ethel, that was her name. 

“She’s with the hag!” One of the men yells. He lunges for Tav and Astarion springs into action, plunging his dagger into the man’s side. Beautiful blood spurts across Astarion’s leather doublet and the man crumples before him with a cry. It was going to be a good day. 

“Thank you so much sweetness,” Auntie Ethel coos once the two men lay dead before her. “They were looking for their sister, Mayrina, the poor girl who’s-“ she pauses for a moment, then her face splits into a crooked grin. “-The poor girl who’s staying with me.” Tav’s heartbeat picks up, hammering in her chest. Behind her, Gale, Shadowheart, and Astarion all exchange a dark look. 

“Do stop by my house. I’d love to thank you proper.” Auntie Ethel’s feline grin splits even wider as she vanishes in a puff of foul green smoke. Tav whirls around, immediately locking eyes with Astarion. 

“Holy shit. Auntie Ethel really is a hag, isn’t she?” Tav’s eyes are wide, her voice frantic. Astarion shrugs.

“I don’t spend a lot of time around old ladies. I take it this isn’t normal?” Astarion says. Shadowheart rolls her eyes. 

“No, it’s not normal to disappear in a puff of smoke after tricking a group of adventurers into killing your enemies!” Gale shoots back. 

“We just killed innocent men.” The color drains from Tav’s face as her body begins to tremble. “I need to sit down,” she says. Gods below. They were two strangers who attacked them. There are worse crimes. Astarion sighs and crosses his arms as Tav leans against a tree, trying to collect herself. This was a far cry from the girl who had fearlessly insisted they investigate a desiccated tomb, who had threatened Mizora until she left their camp in a blaze of flame, who had helped Lae’Zel bully a tiefling just yesterday. After a moment Gale follows her and begins speaking to her in a low, comforting tone. Shadowheart and Astarion exchange another look.

“Here I thought Tav was proving to be capable,” Shadowheart says to him in Elvish.

“As was I. She better pull herself together soon or I’m going back to camp,” he returns.

“Really? You’d abandon your meal so quickly?” Shadowheart gives him yet another withering side-eye.

“Of course not. I still need her,” he replies under his breath. The soft golden light of a Calm Emotions spell envelops them and they turn towards Tav, whose heartbeat is slowly returning to its resting rate. She straightens up and makes her way back towards them, Gale in tow.

“I’m sorry about that, everyone. I made a bad call,” she admits. Her face is still flushed with shame.

“The old woman is clearly a hag of some kind. Hag deals are notoriously deceptive and unfair, but even so, it could be worth listening to what Ethel has to say about our parasites,” Gale interjects. 

“We’ve come all this way. Might as well,” Shadowheart agrees, speaking in Common again. 

“She sounds powerful, too,” Astarion adds, also in Common.

“And Mayrina is with her,” Tav says. Astarion shoots her an annoyed look. “I’m not saying we have to help her, I’m just saying we should check it out,” she explains. 

“She’s ‘staying with Ethel’ because she almost certainly made a deal with her,” Astarion counters. “Mayrina is exactly where she wants to be.”

“Maybe. But let’s see for ourselves,” Tav urges. Astarion frowns, but it isn’t worth the fight. She will see that he’s right when they get to Ethel’s house. 

~

They pick their way through the sunny marsh in silence. Tav leads the way, followed by Shadowheart, then Gale, and finally Astarion, who brings up the rear. Tav’s kindness had served him well so far, but as Astarion trudges through the sticky, sucking mud he decides that Tav’s kindness is getting out of hand. He doesn’t like how willingly she extends her kindness to others. It makes her weak, easy to use. So far that had worked to his advantage, but would they be running after every lost soul they met on their travels? At least the hag could help them. What could this Mayrina do? Unless she knows how to control ilithid parasites or she has experience killing powerful vampire lords, Astarion doesn’t care what happens to her. 

Maybe he was wasting his time with Tav. Maybe she didn’t know what she was doing after all. Maybe her sweet, soft heart would only get her killed. Or worse, get him killed. He cozies up to Gale, who has hiked his robe up around his knees to avoid the muddy bog. 

“I’m enjoying our long walks together, aren’t you, Gale?” Astarion says warmly, lowering his voice to a sultry hum. Gale looks over at him, confusion written plainly across his face.

“I am. In silence,” Gale says firmly. Astarion rolls his eyes. Wizards. Tav looks back at them and Astarion sees a clear flash of hurt flicker across her face. His stomach plummets and he feels a sharp stab of hatred for himself, but this is what he has to do. If Tav is too weak to handle this excursion, if she’s too busy fussing over strangers to advance his interests, then he will find someone who will. It doesn’t matter how nice she’s been to him. Or how well they get on. His literal skin is on the line. Unbidden, his mind conjures an image of what Cazador will do to him once he has him again and he grips the handles of his daggers until it hurts. Never again. 

Despite the bright, warm sunlight the wetland is eerie. There’s a marked stillness about everything that makes the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stand. Astarion realizes that it’s completely silent: there isn’t a single note of birdsong, not a hint of animal life. A soft breeze ruffles his curls and he smells it: fresh blood.

“What’s that?” Shadowheart points to something up ahead just beyond a wave of marsh grass. Tav crests the small hill and stops dead.

Blood drenches the remains of what must have been a quaint little camp. The bedrolls are ruined, the linens stained beyond repair. The fire has long since guttered out, half-cooked sausages smoldering on the coals. Uneaten food and abandoned packs sit ripe for the taking amidst slick pools of coagulating blood. Curiously, there isn’t a single carcass to be seen. Tav picks her way gingerly through the mess, picking out a blood spattered lute from the wreckage.

“Care to play us a song?” Shadowheart jokes. Tav gives the instrument an idle strum and winces. “Not like this, it’s out of tune,” she quips. She slips the bloody lute into her pack and turns away, rifling through the soiled supplies. They silently join her despite the grisly scene. Times are hard and supplies are thin.

“What do you think did this?” Tav asks lightly. She’s trying to sound calm, but Astarion can hear the subtle strain in her voice. She’s scared.

“I don’t know,” Gale answers as he pockets some cheese. “But we shouldn’t stick around to find out.” They all murmur in agreement and quickly move on, picking a new path through the swamp. Whatever it was, it wasted all that lovely blood. 

For a while there is only the sticky slosh of their sodden footsteps through the muck. Astarion is sure his boots are ruined by now. Tav better buy him new ones. Then, the soft baa baaing of sheep reaches them. Sheep? In a swamp? The echoes bounce across the water in bright, distorted peals. Tav pivots them towards the sound.

The sheep are strange little creatures that toddle oddly over the grass. They almost seem sick. As Tav approaches them she bleats a loud, tremulous cry. One sheep baas back, a clumsy retort. Tav’s face stiffens and then reality as they know it melts before their very eyes. 

Rot assaults their nostrils as the grass beneath them withers and dies, sinking into thick, black muck. Warped, petrified trees spring from the ground to pierce the endless sky, which leeches to a stony gray. Fog begins to roll in, settling into an ominous haze that obscures what little they can still see. And the dumb faces of the sheep crack and splinter apart, revealing the hateful eyes of ravenous redcaps.

No one moves. The fey glares at Tav, fangs bared. Its companions size them up them but make no motion to attack. Tav takes a deep breath. 

“BAA!” She yells, her cry echoing impotently throughout the bog. 

The redcap’s face contorts. “Baa,” it growls back with barely concealed animosity. Tav strides confidently past the creatures and they all follow close behind her, Astarion giggling all the way. 

Once they are out of sight Tav’s self-assured composure collapses and she whirls to face them. “You saw that too, right?” She whispers, gesturing to the mire. 

“Oh yes, her spell is well and truly broken now,” Gale says. “A fancy bit of illusion magic that falls apart at the slightest inspection.”

“Almost like she wants it to,” Astarion says. 

“It’s an intimidation tactic. Lure in the fools but scare away those smart enough to see through her,” Shadowheart observes. 

“So which are we?” Gale asks.

“We’ve come too far to turn back now,” Tav says. Her brow is set, her jaw is firm. But her eyes dart about the swamp as if looking for an escape. “Unless you want to confront those redcaps again.”

“Then by all means, lead the way, Oh Fearless Leader.” Astarion gives her a mock bow and gestures forward with a flourish. Tav curtsies back, bending deeply at the knees and twirling imaginary skirts. But she swiftly brushes past him, her sweet heart rabbiting in her chest.

~

“Please Ethel, I just can’t eat anymore!”

Mayrina’s begging is getting on his nerves. Usually he likes it when someone other than him is forced to beg, but Mayrina’s whining is neither pretty nor amusing. It’s just pathetic. What else did she expect? She made her bed and now she has to lie in it. 

Tav seems to disagree. “You’re hurting her,” she says. “Do you treat all your guests like this?”

“She’s eating for two,” Ethel says contemptuously, her grandmotherly mask slipping. “But you should watch your tone, sweetie. That worm isn’t going to remove itself.” The threat is there, sharp and pointed. Mayrina snuffles loudly, drying her eyes on a handkerchief. Her hand rests protectively on her pregnant stomach. Tav eyes her, not completely cowed. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tav asks Mayrina gently.

“Busybodies are not welcome here. I’ll talk about your wriggler, but that’s it. Last warning,” Ethel interrupts. Something in the atmosphere drops and Astarion can feel the vibrating hum of wild magic in his fangs.

“She is a pregnant lady in distress. We can’t just stand by and pretend she’s not here!” Gale insists, his quiet fury palpable.

“You’re making it worse for her,” Astarion hisses. Auntie Ethel will punish Mayrina for their insolence. He knows the signs. “Let’s not make trouble for strangers. We have our own problems.”  Tav hesitates, considering his words. 

“Can you really remove it?” Tav asks Ethel.

“Quicker than you can say ‘yes Auntie.’ What do you say?”

“That depends on the price.”

“And that depends on the job. But I like you, petal. For you?” Auntie Ethel pauses, pretending to think. “I’ll take one of your pretty little peepers.” 

Tav recoils in horror. “You want one of my EYES?”

“Don’t be precious. You have two, don’t’cha?”

“Absolutely not! The deal is off,” Tav says. Astarion, Gale, and Shadowheart all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Please Auntie, can I just-“ Auntie Ethel gives an irritated wave of her hand and Mayrina vanishes in a flash of green. 

“That brat has had enough pampering for one day,” Ethel says scornfully. “Well then. Best be on your way now if there’s nothing I can do for you. But you know where to find me if you change your mind.” The old woman smiles her mean, fey smile as she shows them the door.

“That was a complete waste of time.” Astarion whines as they descend the stairs to Ethel’s house. “Can we go now?”

“Mayrina is still in there,” Tav says. “We can’t just leave her to the mercy of a hag.”

“I agree,” Gale says. “If that’s how she treats Mayrina in front of guests, then Auntie Ethel must be something truly special in private.”

“This place gives me the creeps. Whatever we do, let’s just wrap up our business here quickly,” Shadowheart says primly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Unless one of you wants to trade an eye for a dubious cure.” No one seems particularly keen.

“Darling,” Astarion begins, “I know you want to play hero like in one of your lovely little songs, but this is none of our business. The girl’s already made her deal.” Tav chews her lip.

“I know, but she’s made a bad one. Auntie Ethel is clearly hurting her. I can’t just walk away without trying to do something about it.”

“And what do you intend to do exactly? Kill a hag?” Astarion scoffs. On second thought, that might be pretty fun.

“I don’t know! Maybe, if it comes to that.” Tav swallows. “Maybe we can make another bargain for her or something. But if we leave now then we leave Mayrina to her horrible fate, a fate which we accidentally sealed.” She pauses, takes a deep breath, then continues. “We killed her brothers. We murdered innocents who were just trying to protect their sister. They may have been the only family she has. If we don’t intervene now, then no one will. We owe it to them and we owe it to her to help.” Astarion scowls.

No one had helped him. No one had intervened for him. His family, his friends, his colleagues, and his lovers had all left him to rot. No one had stopped Cazador from doing whatever he had pleased with him. Why did Mayrina, a foolish little stranger, deserve mercy and not Astarion? 

“I agree with Tav. We can’t simply turn aside,” Gale says. 

“As our leader commands then,” Astarion sneers as they all trudge back up the rickety stairs to Ethel’s home.

~

Astarion had been in worse places than Auntie Ethel’s Tea House, but not many. Auntie Ethel was a woman who delighted in tormenting people, who offered them hope, then twisted her help into a grotesque punishment for her own sick amusement. Astarion knew her type well. 

The depths beyond Ethel’s fireplace were both a prison and a torture chamber, where Auntie Ethel kept her brutalized victims suspended in magical bonds. Tav reviewed each cell with her characteristic thoroughness, poking around where she definitely should not. Gale’s eyes roamed Ethel’s chamber of horrors with a grim, clinical eye that belied a deep fascination with her magic. Shadowheart remained quiet, silently cataloguing Ethel’s creations with disgust. However, there were moments where Astarion thought she almost seemed impressed. 

But Astarion was right: there was nothing they could do for the hag’s victims. Tav tried to approach the only conscious victim, an elf, who was huddled in a corner whispering to himself. Tav bent down next to him, speaking sweetly in a soft tone. “Mindflayer!!” He shrieked, curling in on himself in an inconsolable ball. Astarion wanted to feel smug but he only felt a hollow emptiness as they left his elven kin quaking in the mud.

They followed the grotto, pushing past Ethel’s magic door and into a fetid, overgrown tunnel that spiraled into stinking depths. Clouds of poisonous fumes lingered in the cavern, choking them as they carefully picked their way forward. Eventually the tunnel opened up into a subterranean cave that shimmered with the light of bioluminescent stalagmites. Thick, twisted roots wound their way throughout the cave. Above them, a rotten cage hung suspended over a black abyss. Inside, Mayrina hiccuped and sobbed.

“You come into my home, interfere with my business, and now have the gall to barge into my private playhouse?” Auntie Ethel shrieks, materializing seamlessly out of the shadows. The sweet grandmother dissolves and a haggard, spindly witch lurches out of the darkness in her place. Her mouth gapes and yawns, her numerous teeth shining like terrible needles. “I’ll rip your spine out your arsehole!” She screams. Tav shoots Astarion a look and he nocks an arrow in his bow. “I’ll spice your blood to make my stew!” He pulls back the drawstring. “I’ll-" He lets the arrow fly and it strikes true, skewering Ethel where she stands. 

“You little shits!” She snarls, bilious blood gushing from her wound. The hag unravels and splits into dust. How easy, Astarion thinks.

“You want the girl so bad, take her!” A disembodied voice screeches as Mayrina's cage explodes in flame. Four new hags rematerialize from the darkness, each one of perfect copy of Auntie Ethel's hideous form.

“We have to act fast!” Shadowheart cries. Gale conjures a deluge of water, quenching the flames as a rush of black smoke fills the cave. They all cough and hack, momentarily blinded. Ethel strikes, clawing Gale across his abdomen. A sour, noxious scent fills Astarion’s nostrils as the wizard bleeds. Gale gives an agonizing cry, but rebounds quickly with a hard rap of his staff to the hag’s skull. The illusion unravels and splits, dematerializing back into the smoke. 

Meanwhile Astarion crouches down, easily blending into the smog. “Got some rat still stuck in your teeth, slave,” the witch whispers in his ear, her breath warm and rancid on his face. Ethel’s taunt hits him through his heart and he whirls around furiously, jabbing his dagger into any flesh he can. The mirage simply vanishes with an ugly chuckle. 

“There she is!” Shadowheart points across the chasm, unleashing a bolt of radiant magic into the air. This time Shadowheart strikes true and Ethel is sent reeling across the mossy floor. 

“Pretty clever, but not clever enough,” Ethel snarls. She gestures with her claw and suddenly Mayrina is cowering before them, transported from her wet cage. Her face warps and splits into multiple copies, an awful kaleidoscope of flesh. Each Mayrina cries and begs them not her hurt her. 

“I’m the real Mayrina!” One sobs. 

“Don’t listen to her, I am!” Another one chokes out.

“Mouthier than an arse and twice as full of shite,” Tav bellows. Ethel’s mask slides away as she recoils from Tav’s mockery. The real Mayrina collapses to the ground in a fit of hacking sobs. Astarion lunges towards the hag, putting his full weight behind his dagger as he plunges it into her stomach. 

“You’re one thirsty night away from betraying everyone!” She screams, ripping Astarion off of her. Astarion stumbles back and falls to the ground, his daggers clattering out of reach. Her words fill him with a torrent of awful emotions: rage, shame, despair, recognition. If he unpacks it all now he may die. 

Gale blasts the witch with Magic Missile and she severs herself again into three more copies, the real Ethel dissipating into invisibility. Suddenly Astarion’s limbs wrench themselves outwards of their own accord, locking him into place. He tries to fight it, but he’s trapped within the grip of a Hold Person spell, expertly cast by one of the hag’s shadows. He watches in frozen horror as another shoves Gale, who teeters on the brink of the pit. Shadowheart hurls flame at yet another, missing the hag by centimeters. A hag lunges at Tav, rending her open with its wicked claws. The enticing smell of Tav’s spilt blood fills his senses and he thrashes desperately in his magical bonds. He’s pathetic, helpless to do anything as they’re all slaughtered. 

Gale rallies himself and casts another round of Magic Missile, aiming his projectiles towards each individual apparition. The phantoms all shatter on impact, releasing Astarion from his magical bonds. He falls to his feet, snatching up his knives. 

Clutching her bleeding side, Tav pivots sharply and casts Faerie Fire, throwing the spell as widely as she can. The pink light of the ring illuminates Ethel’s hideous face, her invisibility spell broken. Shadowheart raises her hands for the coup de grace, necrotic energy sizzling in her fists. 

“Wait, lovelies,” Ethel gasps. “Killing me is a waste of time. I’ll find a way to return. Always have, always will.” She licks her thin lips. “But it’s unpleasant. So let’s be civil about this. After all, I have something you want.”

“Hah!” Tav barks a laugh. “This should be good.”

“Just wait until you hear my offer,” Auntie Ethel purrs. “Let me leave with the girl and her babe and I will give you power!” Her claws begin to shine with the sickly green glow of her magic. Now Ethel has Astarion’s full attention. “You want to be smarter?” She looks at Gale. “Wiser?” She turns pointedly to Shadowheart. “More dexterous?” She gestures to Astarion. “More charismatic? Done! It your choice, sweetness.” Well, well, well, what a delicious turn of events. 

“If you want your worthless little life, you’ll give me everything,” Tav orders, her voice like sharpened steel. “I want the girl and the power.” She advances on the hag, placing the blade of her rapier against Ethel’s bobbing throat. The air crackles with psychic energy, wreathing Tav in a vicious violet halo. 

“You greedy little shite,” Ethel sneers, sizing her up. There’s a moment of terrible stillness. 

“Fine.” 

Ethel reaches up to her oily scalp. There’s a wretched tearing sound and the hag hurls a chunk of something wet and hairy at Tav’s feet. It glistens in the muck. 

“But what about our deal? What about my husband?” Mayrina pleads. Her bloodshot eyes are ringed with smeared kohl.

“Deals off you dumb cow! And you have this one,” Auntie Ethel jerks a thumb at Tav, “to thank for it.” Mayrina rounds on Tav, rage flashing in her eyes. “But not to worry,” Ethel continues, “I’ll find another one just as plump and ripe. People always need lotions and potions,” she smiles wickedly.

“Good luck, auntie.” Tav jeers.

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” She gestures to the sickening clump of skin, “It’s only the deal that counts,” Ethel replies. “Bye, bye, petal. I’ll not soon forget this,” she threatens ominously. Ethel disappears for good in a flash of foul green light. 

Tav bends down and plucks the slimy piece of hag scalp from the cave floor. Astarion considers her, regarding her with dark appraisal. She’s soft, but she has an appreciation for power and an eye for opportunity. Potential. He remembers how fascinated she had been with the Necromancy of Thay. Maybe she just needs some of his guidance. Some shaping. Together, they could take so much more than magical trinkets. Perhaps this hadn’t been a waste after all. 

“You miserable bitch!” Mayrina howls, rounding on them all. “You’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined everything!”

“We saved you from a hag!” Tav yells back, incredulous. “She was mistreating you, we all saw it! Aren’t you happy to be free again?”

“I don’t want to be free! I want my husband back, alive and well!” Mayrina wails. 

“Ethel was never going to help you. I’m sorry Mayrina, but it’s the truth,” Tav replies adamantly.

“Yes she was! Soon my child would have been born and this nightmare would have been over!”

“I’m sorry, your child? You were going to give your baby to the hag?”

“Don’t you dare judge me!” Mayrina hisses. “I have nothing. My baby would have been raised in rags. This is the nicest dress I own.” She gestures to her filthy emerald shift. “Ethel would have given my child a good life. Taught them magic, even! More than I could have done.” Mayrina leans against a gnarled root, sagging in defeat and despair. She places a hand on her abdomen, rubbing soothing circles on her swollen stomach. She seems so young. 

“No she wouldn’t have, Mayrina. Hags never truly give you what they promise.”

“I didn’t bloody ask you!” Mayrina shouts, incensed once more. “Now I’ll never see my husband again. And I’ll have to drag his coffin and our baby back to our empty house through the mud all by myself! I hope you’re fucking happy!” Mayrina storms away, disappearing with her unborn child into the overgrown tunnel and up into the world. 

“Did we do the right thing, or did we just ruin that woman’s already miserable life?” Tav asks. She’s caked in dirt and blood. She doesn’t seem proud or heroic, she just seems tired. 

“Well, what’s done is done,” Astarion offers. “There’s no point dwelling on things you can’t change now.” 

Tav sighs. Astarion knows that she feels responsible for this mess, but in his experience it’s better to simply not reflect on things. If you don’t reflect, you don’t have to feel.

“Grief can be a bitter wound. It’s too fresh now, but once Mayrina has time and space to think she’ll see the great service you did for her,” Gale says soothingly. “With our help, of course.” Gale doesn’t wink, but Astarion can feel it in his smug voice. Tav smiles weakly back at Gale and Astarion almost pushes him into the chasm himself.

“It’s true. Most don’t see loss as a gift at first. But in time, those that accept my Lady’s blessings will find comfort in her embrace,” Shadowheart recites.

“Thank you, Shadowheart,” Tav sighs. Shadowheart says her lines dutifully but Astarion can see, perhaps clearer than the others, that her eyes are far away. 

“Besides,” Astarion chimes back in. “Just look at the delicious little snack you have now.” Lice skitters across the scalp, disappearing into the dirty hair. 

“Yummy,” Tav says flatly. 

“Unless of course, you’d rather give it to me?” Astarion pouts playfully. He’s joking, but he would also snatch the horrible scalp up in a heartbeat. 

Tav bumps him with her hip. “No way, it’s mine! Go find your own,” she laughs. He supposes it was worth a shot. 

~

Even the putrid air from the foul swamp seems fresh after Ethel’s lair. Everyone is exhausted and covered in refuse. All of them need at least two baths. They begin the long walk back to camp when a particularly disgusting wave of air hits them. Everyone recoils, but Astarion recognizes the awful smell: ironvine. A monster hunter is nearby. His lip curls. A Gur.

~

Chapter 6: Found

[sweetrevxnge]

Ghosts In The Snow

Chapter Five

Pairing: Vampire!Kylo Ren x Reader AU

Summary: Six long years had passed under the reign of the First Order. The bitter winters grew longer, and as they did, hope faded from the hearts of the citizens of Hosnian Prime. As a lieutenant in the Resistance cavalry, it was your duty to nurture that ember of hope. After a mission takes an unexpected turn, you are taken prisoner by a commander in the First Order, a mysterious man with an insatiable appetite—for violence, power, and you. In the coming days, you must keep the spark of your own hope alive from the dark confines of the Commander's castle.

Warnings: sexual content, violence, blood kink, gore, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 3k

Chapter-specific CW: compulsion, light emotional manipulation (but it's ok bc he's a hot vampire)

A/N: "how am I supposed to live laugh love under these conditions?" -y/n to kylo probably

───────── ❅ 🦇 ❅ ─────────

“After you, my dear.”

The threshold of the doorway was all that stood between you and the prospect of freedom. Or at least, so you thought.

Moonlight peaked through the dark clouds above, flooding the spacious courtyard Ren had brought you to with silver light. Disappointment sank through you like a stone—not that you were expecting him to loosen your invisible lead enough to allow you to roam an open area of the castle’s property. All things considered, this was generous.

Tentatively, you stepped out into the night, disregarding your lack of footwear as you followed the ivory tiles lining the path. Short, frostbitten hedges surrounded you, perfectly manicured despite their leaves being brittle and sparse. Snowflakes dusted the earth, falling like tiny, frozen kisses on your skin.

Woven throughout the foliage were dozens of rosebushes, their thorns now all that remained of their beauty. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the garden in bloom, with rays of sunlight bathing the roses until their petals unfurled, inviting bees to collect pollen from each colorful bundle. But spring had long since passed. The stems had morphed into skeletons, their wilted petals cracking under the blanket of frost. It was oddly beautiful; something that was once so vibrant, now faded and cold, preserved by winter’s embrace.

Around you stood the high walls of the castle, with elegant archways and stained windows. Everything felt venerable, even down to the footsteps immortalized in the tile from centuries of tread, aging the fortress well beyond the Empire’s rule. Judging by the weathered state of the walls encasing you, the castle was likely constructed during the Grand Republic’s reign, dating it beyond the past three hundred years. To think that there was a time when its halls had been occupied by diplomats—ones who placed the interests of the people above their own aspirations. Much like the garden, their memory had faded in the presence of the First Order.

You stopped in front of two black iron benches arranged in the center of the court. They accented the focal piece of the garden: a pond, sheathed by a layer of glistening ice. You pictured a family of ducks paddling through it in the summer, creating tiny ripples as they splashed the cool water onto their feathers. The irony of peace existing in a place of such violence.

“What do you think?” Ren asked behind you, joining you in observation of the frozen water.

Releasing a long breath, you answered bluntly, “It’s hard to say. Everything’s dead.”

He chuckled at your honesty. “Yes. But even now, there is a certain beauty to it, wouldn’t you agree?” He stepped closer, pressing his chest flush against your back, offering you no heat. There was nothing warm or soft about him. For all you knew, he was made of marble beneath the layer of black fabric—his body temperature suggesting as much.

You instinctively pulled away, turning to face him. Quick breaths passed through your lips, the wisps of vapor lingering in the air like ghosts. Ren was frightening and beautiful, making him the most dangerous kind of monster. Not the kind that mothers warned their children of through tales, hoping to deter them from venturing too far into the woods, but the kind that the ladies at court would gossip about. The handsome devil.

“From a certain point of view, I suppose,” you finally said, turning your back on him once again. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing—even if he had heard your inner dialogue earlier.

Ren walked alongside you as you continued to meander through the garden. Even the slightest brush of his arm made the hair on the back of your neck stand. Although, in fairness, the culprit could very well have been the winter air, too.

You considered making conversation with him, less because you were interested in what he had to say, but rather as a pleasantry in return for the change of scenery. When you opened your mouth to speak, you found that the words were lodged in your throat, impossible to push out. Perhaps it was the icy air burning your airway, or another force entirely. Regardless, you continued to walk in silence, sorting through your thoughts—as you suspected he was, too.

It seemed as if the tile path had transformed into shards of glass by the way your feet ached, each step sending a wave of pain through your nerves. Determined to stay outside as long as possible, you ignored it, slowing your pace to accommodate.

“You’re shivering,” Ren stated, as if you were somehow unaware of your chattering teeth.

“Yes, I know.”

“Would you like to go inside?”

You froze in place, but unlike in the forest, this was not his doing. He came to stand in front of you, tracing your face with eyes as black as obsidian.

“I doubt that decision is mine to make,” you countered. The illusion of free will—as if you weren’t trapped in this castle because of him.

“You would be dead if it weren’t for me.”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, yes, how could I forget? The man who slaughtered my entire squadron—my savior.”

His jaw tensed. “It’s not as if I was acting of my volition. I was merely protecting my men, keeping my oath. Surely that is something you can understand.”

Of course it was. But you had failed to do that, and now you would spend a lifetime being haunted by it.

“Enough,” you said, tearing your eyes away from him as you turned to face the withering garden. The frayed threads holding you together snapped, allowing the flood of emotions to pour in. As it did, you wondered if it would always be like this. Reminded of the carnage every time you laid eyes on him. Sentenced to a miserable existence with the man responsible for your nightmares.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder. You shuddered at the touch. “For what it’s worth, their deaths were wholly unnecessary.” There was a trace of remorse in his words, quickly replaced by his usual tone. “But such is the nature of war, my dear.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your tongue before you could say anything else. When you opened them again, Ren was standing in front of you, close enough to hide the moonlight behind him. 

“Why did you do it?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, fighting desperately to hold back your frustration.

He furrowed his brows, confused by your question. “The Supreme Leader’s orders were clear–”

“No,” you snapped, a harsh edge replacing the weakness in your voice. “I mean, why did you capture me? How is it fair that I should be the only survivor, condemned to live out the rest of my days under your thumb?”

As soon as the words had left your mouth, you wished you could reach out and shove them back into the depths of your mind. He didn’t deserve to see you like this, brimming with raw emotion. It was a state you reserved only for those closest to you, those who you would likely never see again.

Ren was silent, stoic. In a moment like this, you wished you possessed his ability to probe minds. Instead of offering you an answer, he cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone and jaw, tracing a line as light as a whisper over your skin.

Immediately, the tension in your shoulders dissolved, washed away along with every concern occupying your mind. Despite his cool touch, warmth rose to your cheeks.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that this arrangement could liberate you in ways you’ve never imagined?” His voice was silky, falling on your ears like a symphony of angels. A soft cloud settled over you, eliciting a strange feeling within your chest as you gazed up at him, searching his black eyes for an answer to his question.

“I have not, my lord,” you whispered, the words leaving your tongue like a prayer.

Ren’s lips parted, revealing brilliant white teeth as he grinned, amused by your response. “Of course not. And why should you have? Such thoughts have no place in a mind as troubled as yours.” He swept his fingers over your cheek again, soothing you.

You nodded into his hand. The cold that gnawed at your fingers and toes was nothing more than a distant sensation, an ache quelled by his touch. He glanced down at your figure, frowning at the sight of your dress. In the time that the two of you had been standing outside, a light layer of snow had melted into the thin fabric of your gown, clinging to your skin. With deft fingers, he tied the strings of your cloak into a small knot and smoothed the fabric over your shoulders.

“Now, let’s go inside. I can’t have my bride freezing to death,” he said in a low tone, leaning closer to your lips. “Next time, I advise you to wear more fitting attire.”

Next time. Intoxicated by his words, you nodded in agreement, your eyes still fixed on his.

As if you were a sack of feathers, he hoisted you off the ground, holding you as he did in the forest. Only this time, there was no fear in your heart, no panic closing off your throat. With your hands clasped behind his neck, he carried you back into the castle, moving swiftly through the courtyard. Although the taste of freedom was dwindling with every step he took, you were content—almost pleased—to be returning to the safety of your chambers.

Your head felt as light as the cushions of the chaise lounge as Ren set you down upon it. The memory of where his hands had gripped you remained after he released you, leaving your skin tingling at each spot. In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to see him moving through your chambers, an issue remedied by a fire roaring to life in the hearth.

Satisfied with his work, Ren stood behind the sofa, peering down at you laying across it. Golden flames flickered in his eyes, softening his strong features. Your cloak had shifted, exposing more of your nightwear than you would’ve preferred. But you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked it—how the sleeves had fallen past your shoulders and the hem of the dress had gathered above your knees. You felt ethereal, basking in the glow radiating from the hearth. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been this relaxed.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you relished the warmth spreading through your toes. “Who should I thank for starting this fire—you or your magic?” You made a vague gesture with your hands, wiggling your fingers as if you were casting a spell.

He chuckled quietly, moving to sit in the chair across from yours. “Neither. Thank the tinderbox that was left on the mantle.”

Propping yourself up with your elbow, you turned to face him, letting your dress drape over your hips. The knot at your neck loosened with every movement you made until you finally grew tired and pulled it free, shedding your cloak onto the sofa. Under any other circumstance, you would be scrambling to cover yourself. This was completely unlike you—to allow anyone other than your handmaid to see you like this. Harlot, your mother would say in her scolding tone, coupled with a scowl. But she wasn’t here—only Commander Ren.

“I find it hard to believe that you’re incapable of starting a fire, given everything else you can do.”

“Unfortunately, I was never any good at it,” he said, his eyes wandering to the golden flames. “Pyromancy, however, has always been one of my strongest suits.”

The conversation stalled for a moment as you watched his fingers glide over the armrest, hypnotized by the patterns he traced in the black velvet. His veins mingled with tendons as he moved—an intricate dance beneath his ivory skin. Somewhere deep within you, an ember flickered to life, its warmth spreading throughout your being. It was unusual, but not unwelcome.

“How can you do these things?” you asked, your voice floating through the air like the wisps of a dandelion.

He sighed, rolling his tongue over his teeth in thought. Finally, he said, “I was raised by witches.”

Your eyes widened—not in shock at his answer, but because he had answered at all. Rey’s words echoed in your mind. Commander Ren is a very private man.

“Witches? As in, multiple?”

He snickered softly. “Just two.”

“I see,” you whispered, watching him intently. There was something inherently alluring about him, an appeal that had drawn you in the instant you laid eyes on his portrait. An indescribable—yet persisting—quality. A charm.

After the success of your first question, you found the courage to pose another. “What were they like?”

A beat passed before he spoke, unease filling your stomach as you waited. The look in his eyes told you that your valiant effort was in vain. “What else did the handmaid tell you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his seat.

His words hit your chest like a thousand stones, shattering your confidence. Rey had warned you—begged you—to not discuss the matter of the Commander, fearing the consequences awaiting her if she did. Guilt crashed into you.

“Nothing. She said nothing else,” you stammered, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. With pleading eyes, you turned to him. “I swear it by all the gods.”

Ren stood to his feet, shushing you as he strode toward you. “There’s no need to call upon the gods, dear. I believe you.” His long fingers caressed your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. “I also believe that the girl is sensible enough to want to keep her head attached to her body. You asked her about me, didn’t you?”

Your heart slammed into your ribs, as if it were attempting to leap out and crawl into Ren’s hands. There was no use in arguing—he already knew the truth. The outcome of your fate depended on any ounce of respect you could earn from him. Lying now would be a disservice to everyone involved.

“Yes, I admit, I asked her to tell me what she knew of you, but she refused. It was only after I continued pressing the matter that she finally answered. Please, have mercy on her, she is innocent–”

He silenced you by pressing a finger against your lips. “If I beheaded every servant who spoke ill of me, the castle would be swept by ghosts.”

You said nothing, an unspoken understanding passing between you. While you believed him, there was also validity in Rey’s fear. Even the servant boy cowered in his presence. If one thing were true in this life, it was that rumors carried weight, and at times, merit.

“Why do they fear you so much?” you asked as his thumb brushed over your chin.

Ren let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers down your neck, pausing at your pulse point. “People fear what they do not understand.”

The air grew thick in the silence. A familiar sensation embraced you, igniting every fiber of your being under his touch. Much like the fire in front of you, the ember in your belly became an inferno. Your gaze fell to his pillowy lips, imagining what they would feel like against yours—what they would feel like on every inch of your skin. As soft as sin, probably. His eyes were coals, twinkling in the amber light, a tell that your thoughts were not as quiet as you had hoped.

“What do you fear most, darling?” he asked, his voice low and inviting. “I imagine that a woman like yourself doesn’t fear much, but everyone has their weakness.” He tilted your head slightly to the side, eyes wandering down your neck. “What is yours?”

Blood rushed in your ears, making you dizzy. Through the haze in your mind, a tiny voice broke through, begging you to resist him—resist the urge to bend to his will. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to barricade your thoughts, and as his eyes bore into yours, irises now a deep shade of red, his devilry won.

“Purpose.” The word passed through your lips like a specter, carrying a cadence that was foreign to your ears. “I fear a life without purpose.”

Satisfaction radiated off of Ren. “I see. And that is exactly why you were the only survivor.” He stretched his hand over your throat, applying gentle pressure to either side of your neck. The rhythmic drumming of your heart pulsed through his fingertips. “Because your purpose is so much greater than serving the Resistance.”

“What do you believe my purpose is, Commander?”

The backlight of the hearth cast a halo around him, deifying him. Ignoring your inquiry, he said, “The night is almost over. I suggest you get some rest.”

With that, he left you, somehow more cold and alone than you had been before. As the latch clicked shut, the haze lifted, quickly replaced by dread. Your vision tunneled on the fire in front of you, the black edges snuffing out your surroundings, narrowing your view to only the flames dancing over the logs.

As you stood from the lounge, your knees buckled, forcing you to summon all your strength to reach the bed before collapsing. Chest heaving, you stared up at the canopy, hoping to find anything but flecks of light dancing across your eyes. The voice in your head was shouting now, building to a deafening pitch, its message clear.

In the wake of his presence, two things remained: your distrust of Commander Ren and the strange warmth that had settled in your stomach.

[redgoldblue]

for the drabble spotify wrapped game, if you want: i rolled my rainbow d10 twice and we have a 75 🌈

❤️ 🌈

75: America's Sweetheart by Elle King

uh. I don't know where this came from. i apologise, my partner-in-fluff 🫡

Also I am obviously not abiding by the technical 100-word definition of drabble here, but instead the much looser 'short piece of writing'.

spotify wrapped drabbles!

Steve doesn't know when he stopped caring about killing people. It didn't bother him until he started caring again.

It's not anyone unusual, is the thing that gets him. It's a nameless, almost-faceless drug smuggler that he didn't even mean to kill, but he shot with intent to disable and a little too much carelessness in a rush to stop the ship they came in on, and when he finally loops back around there's a pool of blood and a corpse with a busted femoral artery.

He's kneeling down, checking a pulse even though it's clearly absent, removing weapons even though he'll clearly have no use for them, when his fingers brush against a thin edge in the inside pocket of the off-the-rack grey suit jacket the guy's wearing.

When he pulls it out, it's a photo. He has to look down to check that it's the same guy in it, partially because death rictus changes a face, especially when your comparison is smiling and happy, and partially because he just hasn't looked at his face properly. It's the same guy, his arm around a similarly smiling woman shoulder-height to him and so close in features she has to be his sister, with a chubby-cheeked frizzy-haired kid straddling his shoulders and holding onto the woman's hand.

One of the first things the military teaches you, explicitly or not, is to erase personhood. Your own, and your enemy's. Numbers, statistics, body parts and targets and usefulness.

He puts the photo back into the dead man's jacket and moves away. A tech comes at some point, body-bags him, and Duke is there and the rest of his team have it well in hand, so he goes back to where their cars are parked, boosts himself onto the hood of the truck, and waits.

Kono walks past at some point, but they're still in the midst of cleanup and HPD handover, so even though she does slow and ask, "You okay, boss?", when he replies in the affirmative she nods and keeps moving.

He remembers himself before. He remembers when it would never would have occurred to him not to think that every person with a bullet in them is a person with a family. A person with a life, at least before they were a person with a death.

He doesn't bother trying to count. The impulse washes over him, but it would take hours with military records and Five-0 reports to calculate anything even close to accuracy.

Himself before was decades ago, but also not that long ago. It was target practice at the Academy and work behind computers in Military Intelligence and crawling through mud with a similarly young Freddie by his side.

Himself after, apparently, is sitting on his own truck at the edge of his own city watching his family and his family's family and his friends and his friends' friends move efficiently through shipping containers and body bags.

Eventually, Danny finds him. He takes one look at Steve's face; he doesn't say anything, just leans against the hood next to Steve and waits.

Eventually, Steve finds the words. "I don't think the military would like me anymore, Danny."

It's not all that new a state of affairs; he got driven by revenge and tattoos in non-regulation places and too many personal attachments and he remembered how to have fun in quiet spaces and how to love in loud ones. He started caring again.

"Good," Danny says, harsh and definite, and Steve realises with a start that the things that would debase him in the eyes of his country are probably exactly the same reasons Danny - not just Danny, his whole family - would cite for loving him. Except the tattoos, maybe.

He can't bring himself to be upset about it in the face of that.

[gingkos-eldritch-secret]

Fanfiction Commentary and Recommendations: Lex Luthor´s Ascend from Supervillainy to Fatherhood Part VI (chapters 26 to 30)

The Original story by @halfagone can be found here.

The previous parts of the commentaries can be found here:

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VII

So, just to begin with: we still continue where the last part cut off. This will include discussions of injury, blood, torture and death. Also, discussions about the morality of killing someone, even in self-defence.

Many good and interesting and also important discussions happen in these following chapters. Which is very, very nice, but also makes for a bit of an emotionally exhausting bit to read. It´s absolutely wonderful, but at the end I lay in my bed and was like 'how. How do I even feel now? What should I feel now? What?' So yeah, be prepared for that.

Now included: Memes and (hopefully) gifs. You´ll see if it worked. As of now I have no clue. And with that: have fun with the commentary :D

○○○••○○•••○○••○○○

So: Dick is still floored by Lex just leaving after admitting that he forgives them for their behaviour. And has the same opinion as me: That he´s a freaking miracle worker. Good for him! He really DOES deserve Alfred´s cookies for this.

And now we get back to the interrogation. I mean. It should be just Gordon doing this, but Batman has been allowed to stay. And knowing how the bat behaves in such scenarios I´m not really sure that that´s a good idea.

A fun fact: the bats are ALL listening in to the conversation. And as I already know how this will go I´ll just say: they´ll be facepalming. A lot. Or will be commiserating with Danny in a way. Because god damn, he kinda verbally eviscerates Bruce. And Bruce freaking deserves it.

I mean, true, Bruce has made it clear that he´s not offering any input. But it´s Bruce. Even if he wanted to, can this man even hold back his opinions and questions?

Jason and Dick hide it out on the roof - more or less in a mix of civilian and vigilante outfits, having their own conversation while listening in.

And listening in they do. I´m not sure that 'What´s one more bad memory in a hospital?' is a wonderful conversation starter, but god damn. It sure sets the mood. You can decide what that mood is, but I´d say a mix between resigned, shifty (if that even is a mood and not a state of being) and exasperated. So Fun mix.

At least Jim doesn´t seem all too happy about the conversation either? Small mercies, I guess.

At least there´s a lawyer present.

(If I´m very wordy in this: blame the mix of melatonin and caffeine that is unique to night shifts. I am VERY giddy right now and that translates weirdly into commentary. It´s weird to write while kind of dancing to a space documentary YouTube video lmao.)

The first question is just. Basic. 'What happened? Begin from the kidnapping'. That was the moment I decided that I needed popcorn. Because with how done Danny seemed from the whole situation to begin with that could only go so well.

So, it begins with Danny beginning at the. Well. Beginning. With him running off and befriending the crazy local lesbians (I love them your honour) and how he spent his time there, how he doubled back after the explosion and the whole Van business happening after that. All the while Jason is still reeling about his relationship with two ex-Villains. But really, should he be so surprised about that? It´s Danny 'i'mma rehabilitate villains' Luthor we´re talking about.

Then he tries to explain why he thinks the Joker targeted him - he brings it back to his connections with said man´s ex and her new girlfriend. Which is understandable. I doubt he knows that he was mistaken as a Robin when he was taken.

And then we get into the nitty gritty. The things that happened after the camera was shot and the stream was ended.

And just oof. There had just been a whole freaking table full of torture instruments. FULL OF THEM. None of them like that revelation.

And of course, Batman interrupts and asks if the camera was shot on purpose. What the fuck man. WHAT THE FUCK. YOU ASK A TRAUMATIZED CHILD IF HE SHOT A CAMERA ON PURPOSE AFTER BEING BOUND AND TORTURED ON A LIFESTREAM? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU????

Danny stays calm. Only just. He explains how he´d meant to get the man in the shoulder or the back to run as far away as possible. How he still managed to get away and knocked out any goons he met on his way. How he found bomb equipment and used it against the bad excuse of a clown when he got too close to a hiding spot. How he´d tried to shoot him in the back and just met his chest instead. How the Joker just LAUGHED and tried to kill him then and there because 'two killers killing each other'. Really. Fuck him.

Jim, bless his soul, just gently prods at what happened next. Which Danny lies about. Says he just tried to drag himself away, but was slow because of the blood loss and the wounds. That Red Hood came soon after that. It´s a good lie. And it´s nearly the truth. But we all know what went on was just a tad more eldritch. Not that he can tell them that. Who´d ever believe it after all? Or react well to that? No one. that´s who.

Now Gordon tells Danny that the goons were all found dead. All of them. Danny … does not take this well. At all. Even the lawyer asks if they should stop for now, but … well. Then they´d have to do it a second time and I highly doubt that would go any better.

And now the million-dollar question. Where did our boy learn how to wield a gun? This is where the bad parenting choices of the Fentons come in. And how they led to Danny and Jazz chasing each other around the house with loaded guns. In a playful way…. Now where is that Danny protection squad. I need a membership.

And of course, Batman asks why they taught their children how to use lethal guns. He´s still not holding himself to the earlier 'promise' of: he´ll stay out of the conversation. I´m still mad at him for that. And I will continue to be mad at him for that.

Go Jason. Own that cringe at the behaviour of your father figure. Though we´ll all agree that the Fenton parents are, in fact, fools.

So, while Danny tells them that he learnt because he had to, that he never liked guns. Which Batman then uses against him with his next question. And Gordon is not happy about THAT either, trying to interrupt. But of course, the great batman just ignores the head of the police force and asks why Danny chose the gun instead of any of the other weapons.

Danny´s just like 'What? Should I have taken a melee weapon? With the joker? How´d I have gotten away that way? It would have been so much harder?'

And Bruce, not understanding or not liking the reasoning is just like 'You could´ve just ran away'

Like. Danny´s right. He´d been trying to do that from the start? Why´d Batman suddenly fault him for this? For self-defence? I repeat myself: WHAT THE FUCK BATMAN?

Now the man is trying to talk Danny into a corner so that he may 'confess' or whatever the hell is going on in his head. Because why ever else would he hide somewhere? If not to just ambush the Joker?

Which is, I think, when Danny gets really fed up and was also the time I was sitting there like

Batman be like 'I just need to know why' and Danny? Has had ENOUGH. Jason may find his eyes creepy at this point. And I do imagine him letting a tiny little bit of his ghostliness slip through. Because all of those accusations? I´d have had enough of that much earlier than Danny.

And that´s when Danny eviscerates Batman. How do you ask? Well. Because he researched. Everything from crime rates to rogue statistics and even looked into the rogues themselves. And the Joker would´ve had the death penalty several times if it was not for his 'plead to insanity'. He´d left behind half a baseball stadium full of bodies. And nothing was ever done? He told about the second Robin´s death and how he enjoyed it. And batman says things about death and playing god by choosing who dies.

And he asks the real questions:

“You talk about how people play god by choosing who dies, but aren’t you playing god by choosing who lives?” Danny sneered; teeth bared. “Who do you go for? The civilian in need or the criminal who caused their suffering? Who’s the priority to you? Who do you chase after first?”

God damn - going right for the metaphorical throat.

He continues. Calling out that bullshit mentality of 'choice', when the Joker still would´ve just gone back to Arkham after killing him when he´d not even wanted to be there in the first place.

Talks about how there´s people who can be reformed. Who can live normal lives again. But that there must be a life for them to get back to and that the Joker had nothing else. He simply had nothing to live for except for his 'jokes'. And even if they´re reformed. They´d have to live with all the people who have heard of their exploits looking at them with scorn.

There´s just so many good points to this conversation, I love it :3

I kind of think that Jason really needed to hear all of this as well if we go by his reaction. Poor man´s been going through the wringer that day.

When Cass and Tim find the corpse, she´s not sure what to think. Should she be upset that Danny has killed? Should she even be upset that it was the Joker in the first place? Sould she be relieved? I think it all depends on the why´s.

In the end. Nearly all of them had killed before. So, what makes Danny all that different?

Meanwhile Bruce is just having big thoughts and would like to be alone for now please. I think what he actually needs is a hot bath with some scented candles. Self-care, my man. It would do you a world of good. Also: introspection. Always good.

But in the meantime, Bruce and Jason talk things out and it´s beautiful. Some parts of it are quite funny - always trying to ease the mood this one. But in the end Bruce is right. He´s not Jason´s therapist, but he´s his father. He just wants him to be well.

And if things have to be talked about for the going well part? It must be done. Even if it very clearly is hard for either of them. But that´s what family is for, is it not? To be there for each other even when things get uncomfortable …

I cried at some parts of the conversation, but Bruce nearly puts his foot in his mouth so many times … like Jason tries to understand, but Bruce doesn´t make it any easier.

They talk about why Bruce feels so tense at Danny being the one to kill the Joker. Why he´s so insistent on Danny. How it shouldn´t have been Danny. But if not Danny, who then?

Jason? Dick? Bruce? Any way has it´s pros and cons. Who´d have been able to live with it? Who´d have come out of it unchanged? Would the Joker even have been able to reform? No. Not in this life. Never in this life.

Jason´s question threw me out the loop a bit because 'Since when do you talk about these things?' is a very justified question xD

Then the talk shifts. Towards Dick, towards the 'golden boy' and how it was originally Jason who gave his older brother that title. Not Bruce or anyone else. And how Jason has always been the favourite.

Jason predictably doesn´t believe that. Which is of course his right, but it made me just so freaking happy? How he disbelievingly tried to make any of his other siblings into the favourite while Bruce just explains that no. The child who´d so earnestly tried to do well in school, who did his homework without asking, who was excited to stay with him, who didn´t leave freaking scars (and god damn Dick you feral child) and who didn´t fake an uncle so that he´d not be adopted.

And Bruce? Just says that he´d never be mad at Jason because he tried to steal the cars of the Batmobile because it gave him Jason in the end. And that really let me tear up a bit there. Cause that´s just so wholesome? My poor little heart.

Then the impossible actually happens: Bruce apologizes. He actually apologizes. That he´s sorry to make think he was never loved, but that he´s his son and it never should have been thought to have been otherwise. That it never changed to begin with. That he loves him now and god damn I´m a puddle on the floor now. I died of family feels my friends. Bury me shallow though. I have the feeling I´ll be back.

After Danny is released from the hospital, him and Lex go to a Diner for some food and conversation. And let´s just say Lex would like to have a TALK with Bruce Wayne still.

He´s also very happy about Danny´s healing factor as that means his boy will be pain free much sooner than he´d be if he´d been human… well if he´d been completely and utterly human he´d probably be dead because he would´ve taken a much longer time escaping his bonds … anyways

Though this also lets Lex think about how Danny had explained his healing factor. How it´s emotion-bound. And how sometimes when the emotions are right and good, he´ll heal, but when he feels bad or if the wound had emotional damage attached it would heal slower or even leave scars. Though the latter would only happen if the psychological damage went over a certain threshold.

And because he´s a dad he won´t beat long around the bush and tells him about his talk with Dick, about how he knows he collapsed after seeing Jason and if he knew why that was and then they talk about cores. And how the 'parasite' may not have had one, but it had certainly reacted to the proximity to one.

Soon after Lex goes outside to talk with Bruce. Bruce apologizes directly to lex - noice. He really needed to do that in person, otherwise it´d have been quite insincere.

Lex compliments Bruce in how his children care for him. How they certainly do care for him, because otherwise? They wouldn´t even bother.

Lex still warns Bruce that he´ll it slide this once and that if it ever happens again? There´ll certainly be hell to raise. Which is quite understandable. If my child had faced what Danny has faced I would not in any way be calm either. In fact, I´d be furious. So, the little warning is certainly appreciated.

While Bruce is surprised by how well Danny already looks since he´s only been out of the hospital for a few hours, he wants to apologize to Danny. And the little shit? Just says 'I´m waiting'.

Honestly, this man xD

Bruce actually, really, honestly apologizes with a whole explanation of why they did that how he´s also sorry that they did not take his trauma response seriously. He´s also understandably confused when Danny asks if he´d taken a blood sample.

And when Danny emphatically asks if he´d tried? Well. Let´s just say that a little of the eldritch energy slipped through and Bruce got a whole lot more attentive. Danny can be creepy. As a treat.

And when Bruce says 'yes`? And sees the reactions has to that? He realizes that Danny´s afraid. Honest to god afraid even though this could not be as bad as his confrontation with the ex-clown. He also doesn´t know how to feel when Danny warns him about trying it again.

Though here I´ll have to throw something in. Bruce may not have gotten a sample. But do you remember that Danny´s been tortured? With knives? And that there´d understandably been blood from his wounds all around the warehouse? And that the hospital probably also had some of his blood from the bullet removal as well as the cleaning of the other wounds? Let´s just say it will come into play later. I completely forgot about the left in my first read but god damn. This just makes the situation so much worse. But first it´ll get better. I swear this is like a roller coaster ride of emotions.

Where were we? Ah yes. Danny asks about the parasite. And if they´d taken it into the Batcave. Bruce is. Not amused. The first question out of his mouth was 'how' and the second was 'did you tell lex Luthor'

Dannys reaction´s just a wrinkled nose like 'ew, why would I do that?'. Which is honestly kind of adorable. And Danny does this whole spiel about secret identities and how they´re not his to tell and that he´s not exactly following lex´ agenda at all.

And after that rant Bruce just focuses on the word 'parasite' like a confused puppy. Danny´s just like 'yes. It´s a parasite. No, I don´t know how he got it' *thinks about ectoplasm* … 'was it a green liquid’ the instant reaction of 'LAZARUS PIT KNOWLEDGE' is funny as frick if you ask just always me. He just always assumes things first before he asks. Let me remind you peeps: To assume makes an ass out of u and me.

And then Danny explains how his parents used to work with 'something like that' and that it´s the reason his blood probably wouldn’t even ping as human because of all the contamination.

As Bruce asks if that´s the reason he´s so shifty about his blood samples Danny´s just like 'Nah. I just don´t trust you with this sort of information. Someone would get it and then they´d just use it maliciously. I KNOW that. Already lived through that'

Then this heartbreaking part follows:

There was only this soft, sad expression on Danny’s face as the boy said, “Oh, Bruce… There is no fixing me.” And then, Danny looked away, gaze falling to the half-eaten plate now. “Not anymore, anyways. Had someone tried a decade earlier, maybe it would have worked out but… No one bothered to try when I was still worth saving.”

I just want to put him in a blanket burrito and hug him until he´s happy and safe and no one will harm him anymore …

Bruce wants to talk about that topic further, but Danny just deflects back to the parasite. He talks about ectoplasm! Achievement unlocked! Knowledge about ectoplasm gained! Congratulations!

Bruce is fascinated. Danny is horrified that Jason was basically put into extremely unhealthy sludge that´s just a very bad representation for Ectoplasm. He´s not surprised about the side effects it had though. Which. If you think about it. I wouldn´t be either. I mean that stuff runs on emotions. And you can´t tell me that the League of Assassins has many positive emotions. Especially around the pits.

And then everyone´s just horrified that the parasite is sentient. Not as horrified that it´s not sapient. Can you imagine a green sludge parasite being sapient? God that sounds like some horror movie stuff.

Now the million-dollar question: Why isn´t Danny as affected by the whole thing? Easy answer? Because he´s been surrounded by that stuff since before he´s been born. It´s integrated in his DNA. Of course, it won´t affect him the same. And of course, there´s no fixing him. But his parents never did realize, did they? They never did understand what they´d been doing to their own flesh and blood. But their work was more important in the end, I guess.

And then we´re back with a mixed bag and some sadder emotions as the talk swaps to Danny´s parents and then to Lex and the situation at the hospital and Damian´s reaction and Danny´s 'mask' being just as much of a mask as Brucie is and. So much information in such a short time. Ouch :')

Good emotions. But too many D:

And now Cass has switched in! She´s taken Bruce’s seat and they ... Talk. Cass is not really all that jazzed about Danny knowing their vigilante secret. She´s also not happy about how the whole situation came about. Not sure what to think about Danny having killed someone.

And … Yeah. She has killed before. Has seen how the life of a man left him and decided: never again. She was raised as a weapon. Only a weapon - that leaves it´s traces.

And then she came to Gotham. She came to Bruce and became a vigilante and there´s the no kill rule (not that it always stops them from killing someone). And Danny just killed someone.

But it was the Joker. He´d done horrendous things to both Danny and her family. And in the end, if it´d been a member of her family who´d done the deed she would still feel not quite right about it. But the kill was not done out of some twisted sense of revenge or someone thing else. It was self-defence in the end. It was accident. So …

And in the end: she can´t be upset about all of that. She wouldn´t have wanted to lose Danny either. Even if she´d always had the feeling of not understanding him.

But that´s the thing about relationships isn´t it? They´re hard. They´re a work in progress. You can never know another person as intimately as you know yourself. We go into a relationship, any kind of relationship, with the intent to learn more about another person. Maybe also to learn more about ourselves. But at the core relationship works out if both people want to see the other for who they are and how they can make it work as a team. The same is true for friendships and family relationships. And there´s always more to learn.

Also. They´re just cute. Cass then asks what his parents did to Danny and his eyes just flash green.

There is no further information before the scene changes to the fathers trying to be subtle about spying on their kids through the window lmao

He recounts a number of their neglectful behaviours, their questionable morale standards, their involuntary hurting their children and just. Not once did they ever question themselves. Not once did they try to change or apologize. And then in the end? They used their blasters on him and he just ran. Danny´s so tired of running. So, so tired of it. He just wants somewhere to belong. A home without the danger of his own parental figures turning on him every second he´s there.

Cass is just so sweet as she gently reminds him that he´s not less important just because he hurt someone. Because in the end no one´s life is worth more, than one’s own. That she´s just glad she´s safe and god, I’m getting diabetes.

AND THEN THEY KISS. It´s all very romantic and cute and the fathers want to protest, but Tim is just sitting next to them with a camera making photos of the whole scenario because he wants to show them on their future wedding party. I understand you, my man, I understand you. That´s just the sibling in you. As well as the photographer. Those two go remarkably well together!

Tim be like:

While going home Lex and Danny make a pit stop at Harley´s and Ivy´s house where Harley and Lex badger Danny into going to therapy for the low price of Lex repairing their home and them basically becoming Danny´s Wine and Vodka aunts. Ahhh yes. Found family at its finest.

Danny also gets permission for a pet from Lex. LONG LIVE THE KITTEN EYES.

Of course, the public has already been informed about the death of the joker and how Danny had been involved. Gotham is throwing a party for him and they´re showered in confetti on their way to the airport. It´s all very heroic and nice. Until the antis come out. But they´ll always come out the little buggers.

And then. AND THEN. My favourite parts about this fic: one of the social media chapters. God damn.

It starts with their excitement about Danny coming to Gotham, worrying about the Joke r and then Danny in his custody, Danny’s health status as well as his being saved by red hood, people worrying about the joker, people being confused at Danny talking with Bruce in a diner, people insta-shipping Cass and Danny and being just so damned happy for them? It´s adorable. The social Media peeps are just CUTE.

And when they find out that Danny killed the joker all hell breaks loose. The stans, the antis - there´s fights breaking out over it, there parties, there´s just so much joy about that little fact.

And then people freak out about a pic Harley shared with the sirens and Danny and Bud and Lou during the Uno game. The Fanart is adorable and people are just joyous about Harley being like 'I´ve only known Danny for a day and a half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself'. Which. Yes. Dany protection squad RISE UP.

People are not comforted hearing the 'nah don’ worry I’ve had worse' comment upon being asked about his wellbeing.

The exact way Danny revealed that Danny and Cass are now dating just absolutely adorable. It´s so fucking sweet. The whole family is exasperated and the PR team probably wants to cry but god damn, it´s cuuteee

[anna-hawk]

I love how I keep lying to myself, like, “Okay, I'll just finish this chapter before I turn in for the night.”, when I already know that I'm going to read the whole fic and complain about being tired the next day.

[inciting-chaos-series]

The Night Shift Masterpost

☽✧ The Night Shift ✧☾

➢Author: Ghostiewvlfpack & JTheGhost

➢ Rating: Mature

➢ Pairings: Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n

➢ Themes: Slow Burn | Coworkers To Lovers | Angst | Holiday | Mutual Pining | Fluff | Smut? | Hurt/Comfort | Soulmates | Fake Relationships | Miscommunication | Forced Proximity | Found Family |

➢ Warnings: Crude Humor | Suicidal Jokes/Ideation | Drinking | Smoking |

➢Summary:

You work the night shift at a local dog kennel for boarding and daycare. You love the peace and quiet of the shift, but just when you get comfortable- a few break-ins happen around town, and upper management decides to place your quiet, brooding, shift lead on the schedule with you.

☽✧ Chapter Links ✧☾

1☾ A Change Of Plans 2☾ Hesitancy 3☾ Musically In Tune 4☾ Fun & Games 5☾

➢ Links:

✦ Fics Masterlist ✦ AO3 ✦ Wattpad ✦ Art ✦

✦ Requests Masterpost & Guidelines ✦ Request Trope List ✦ 。:゜:.*∵✧∵ ☽ Submit A Request ☾∵✧∵*:.゜: 。

[fiveht]

Disarm You With a Smile - Chapter 3

Me: hey daddy 😈

Daddy: Oh no

Daddy: Hi baby

Me: what are you doing right now

Daddy: Proctoring an exam

Daddy: Sitting at a desk facing 14 of my students in a very quiet room

Me: how's your poker face?

Daddy: Excellent

Chapter 3 of Disarm You With a Smile, and it's 13k words, because brevity is the soul of wit and I am a potato.

[nolanscheeks]

Working the night shift and it’s chill and I’m bored. Also super in my soft thoughts about Jack. Indulge me and send your soft thoughts!!

[becaexists]

"I took over a year off to cut you bitches some slack

tell a friend to tell a friend

he’s baaaaaaaaaaaaaack"

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

chapter 3.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

The party was at 5, so I made sure to wake up at 3 to get ready. I dug through my closet, romaging around the very bottom drawer where I put the shit I don't wear anymore. I eventually found the dress I wore to homecoming my senior year. To say it was slutty would be an understatement. I was against wearing it at first, but why not go into the new year with a bang. Ew, I hate that. 'with a bang.' whatever. I slipped on the dress and it fit better than it used to.

I did my usual makeup, just adding eyeliner and darker lipstick to match the dress. I pulled out my phone and texted johnnie.

y/n: ready when you are

johnnie: alr, me and Jake should be on our way soon I think, idk

y/n: lol ok just lmk when you're here

johnnie: ofc :))

I slipped on the beat up converse I've been wearing since middle school and waited in the living room for them to get here. I was a little nervous for the party.

my phone dinged.

johnnie: herrrreeeeee

I read his message and ran out the front door.

Who I assumed was Jake sat in the front seat, while Johnnie leaned against the car facing me. "hey." I smiled.

his eyes grazed over my whole body. "you look really good."

"thank you." I smiled, tilting my head down towards him. he was wearing a pair of ripped, black skinny jeans with a white button up that he didn't tuck in. Something clicked in me, maybe because he was wearing something other than pajama pants, but I shoved that feeling down.

he smiled sweetly and opened the backdoor for me. I hopped in and was quickly followed by johnnie. "Damn, Johnnie, leaving me to sit in the back of my car with a pretty girl."

"shut the fuck up, fuck face." he rolled his eyes.

"sorry, we've never really met. I'm jake." He reached over the seat and stuck out his hand.

I shook it. "I'm y/n. it's really great to meet you. Johnnie has talked about you."

"yeah, talked shit." Johnnie joked.

"Johnnie has talked about you too." Jake replied nonchalantly. Johnnie's gaze quickly met Jake's. He gave him the death stare before returning to his phone.

"you've never been to a party?" Jake asked me, beginning to drive off of my street.

"yeah, my parents kind of kept me locked in a cage my whole life." I looked out the window, watching as snow began to fall to the ground. The bright white snow contrasted against the dark sky, making it extremely visible.

"you're going to have the night of your life." Jake said with a southern accent.

I turned to look at johnnie, who was still on his phone. I admired the way his dark makeup contrasted against his pale skin. ill admit, he was just as gorgeous as the snow. I smiled slightly to myself before responding to Jake, mimicking his accent. "Let's hope so, little missy."

johnnie looked up at me with a goofy smile on his face. he had a certain look in his eye that I couldn't quite read. my stomach errupted with butterflies. I was usually able to read anyone, it didn't matter if I knew them or not. Johnnie was different, and it was confusing.

Jake had turned up the radio and I looked back out the window, racking my brain for what that look was for. was it because I was being funny? was I getting along with Jake more than he liked? was he happy I was getting along with jake? I came up with every possible answer, but none made sense. whether positive or negative, why would he look at me like that?

we eventually arrived at the party, parking down the street from the house. "I'm going straight for the drinks." I commented. "I will never be the one to turn down free alcohol."

"I second that." Jake said, sticking up his pointer finger and pursing his lips.

loud music radiated from the house. it was still decorated for Christmas. lights were strung all over the house while the roof held a porcelain Santa and reindeer.

I grabbed Johnnie's arm. "Look! no one told me Santa was still in town!" I made a shocked face.

he began to jump up and down. "oh my god, Santa! Jake, it's my dad!" he said in a childlike voice.

"you're finally reunited!" Jake patted his back, making two rough slapping sounds.

we waited on the doorstep while Jake was talking to someone out on the yard. "it's nice seeing you not so stressed because of your job."

"I guess I do seem pretty stressed." I admitted. "but I do love my job."

"still, I've never seen you in something other than jeans and a t-shirt with an apron." he smiled.

"well, I've never seen you in anything other than pajama pants. you look very-" I paused, thinking of a not so obvious word to describe him. "good. sorry, I'm not the best with compliments."

"it's the thought that counts." he playfully nudged me.

"A for effort, I guess." I rolled my eyes at him.

"those shoes look like they've been through hell and back." he looked down before making eye contact with me again.

"I mean, technically they were. I wore them in middle school." I kicked a rock out from under my foot.

"I dropped out in middle school." he snickered as Jake walked up to us.

"Sorry, guys. the ladies love me."

"I'm sure they do, jake." I replied sarcastically.

[lavenderfluorite14]

A Taste of Plums | Astarion x Female!Tav

Chapter 8: Fight

Summary: Secrets are revealed. Not everyone is pleased.

Rating: PG; Warnings: None

Read on AO3. Chapter 7 ❤️‍🔥. Read from the beginning.

At first light, Lae’Zel scouts smoke off to the west. Judging by the plumes there must be a big encampment close by, perhaps just beyond the ridge. Goblins. The Druid, and hopefully the answers they seek, are within reach.

Gale ladles scoops of a hodge-podge breakfast scramble onto the chipped plates they’ve scavenged. It looks appetizing enough, so Astarion impulsively grabs a plate. He no longer needs to eat but sometimes he tries. It always tastes like ash. The only thing that tastes good to him now is rich, fresh blood. Everyone eats in uneasy silence while Tav finishes dressing in her tent.

“So, Gale,” Karlach begins. “When were you going to tell us that you need magical items as part of a well-balanced diet?”

Gale visibly balks. “That’s none of your business!” He splutters. “Were you spying on me?” Gale demands, leveling an accusatory glare at the group.

“Your tent lit up like a purple beacon. It was less spying and more observing,” Shadowheart lies.

“That’s still no excuse to invade my privacy!” Gale reiterates.

“So you’re not even going to try to deny your insatiable lust for magical trinkets?” Astarion teases.

“I wouldn’t call it an ‘insatiable lust,’ per se,” Gale counters, ever the pedant. “It’s more like a….king, paying tribute to avoid invasion by a powerful neighbor,” he explains.

“What does that even mean?” Karlach asks.

“It means that my condition is serious and should be given proper care and respect,” Gale says loftily.

“You can’t make analogies like that and then expect us to not have questions,” Shadowheart presses.

“It’s a rather personal matter that I would have preferred be kept quiet, but it seems the proverbial tressym is out of the bag,” Gale concedes, deflating a little.

“So how does a wizard become literally addicted to magic?” Wyll asks.

“That is a tale for another time,” Gale answers evasively. “But until then, I just ask that you keep an eye out for any magical equipment that you might discover in our travels. And if there is anything that you can share, I would deeply appreciate it. My condition is not to be-“

“We’ll part with what we can spare. But we are keeping the valuable spoils,” Lae’Zel announces on everyone’s behalf.

“You may want to reconsider that. As I was saying, my condition is volatile at best. I fear that if I do not absorb another item soon, then something bad may happen.”

“Is that a threat?” Astarion starts.

“It’s not a threat. It is unfortunately a consequence,” Gale answers ominously.

“No one is being threatened,” Tav interjects quickly, stumbling over to their huddle. Her hair is still mussed from sleep, her leathers still unbuckled. She looks like she dressed in a hurry. “And no one is going hungry. We still have time to get another item. And now that we all know about Gale’s condition, we can all keep an eye out for one.” She scans the group for any dissent. Astarion openly scowls but does not voice any complaints.

“But he can’t keep giving us sinister explanations and expect us to drop the matter!” Shadowheart complains.

“I thought you of all people, Shadowheart, would have understood the need for privacy and discretion,” Gale says coldly.

“My secrets are my own. They concern me and my life, they don’t threaten anyone else, unlike what you have implied!” Shadowheart accuses.

“So you assume. You can’t remember what they are, can you?” Gale shoots back.

“My memories are-"

“We all have some secrets and that’s ok,” Tav interrupts forcefully. “We can tell each other when the time is right. But until then, we need to respect-"

“Only cowards cannot admit to their deeds,” Lae’Zel cuts in. Shadowheart’s frown deepens and Gale crosses his arms, obviously hurt. Even Wyll shifts uncomfortably.

“Lae’Zel, that is not a fair thing to say,” Tav says.

“But it is the truth,” Lae’Zel counters. “And it’s time you admitted your own secrets.”

“What are you talking about?” Tav demands, her irritation finally showing.

“Kaincha! You used the illithid connection!” Lae’Zel accuses. “We all felt it. You used it to commune with Astarion!”

Astarion freezes. “And what exactly did you feel?” He asks. It’s bad enough that Tav felt how weak and vulnerable he was. He would be mortified if the rest of the group felt it too.

“Not a lot, honestly,” Shadowheart says. “We felt a disturbance, but it was hard to determine what it was.”

“Given our circumstances, there was only one thing it could be,” Gale says derisively.

“You all felt that?” Tav presses. She gestures to Wyll, Karlach, and Lae’Zel.

“Just a little touch. Enough to feel that you were using the tadpole, but not enough to feel what you were doing with it,” Wyll confirms. Karlach looks between them pointedly.

“So. What were you doing with it?” She asks.

“It doesn’t matter!” Lae’Zell exclaims. “These parasites are not to be indulged! The more you use them, the more susceptible you become to their influence. They are to be resisted at all costs, lest you become ghaik!” She narrows her eyes, looking between Tav and Astarion. “There’s nothing that could be so important that it warrants using these abominations.”

“Not even winning in battle?” Tav remarks.

“Especially winning in battle,” Lae’Zel returns haughtily. “If you could not have won on your own, then you should have fallen.”

Tav scoffs loudly, rolling her eyes. Astarion laughs contemptuously.

“What care I for honor,“ Astarion jeers. “If this tadpole gives us an edge, then-“

“It is an edge that you will cut yourself on!” Lae’Zel vehemently asserts. “Your recklessness puts us all in danger. If you give in to the tadpole, you will become ghaik.” She rests her hands upon the hilt of her sword, already strapped to her side. “And if you become ghaik, I will not hesitate to end you.”

“No one is ending anyone,” Tav authoritatively commands. Her words are firm, but Astarion notices that she is making a placating gesture with her hands.

“That remains to be seen,” Lae’Zel threatens.

“Well, then it’s lucky we do not intend to transform,” Astarion parries.

“K'chakhi,” Lae’Zel spits. “These parasites do not care what you intend. They will take until you are no more than a mindless thrall.” Astarion’s lip curls. What does Lae’Zel know of being a thrall.

“She’s right, you two,” Wyll seconds. “These things in our heads are not to be trusted, as tempting as they may be. We don’t need to use these disgusting worms. We already have quite the talented team already.” Wyll shoots them all a valiant, conciliatory smile, but it is met with angry glares.

“Besides, you didn’t exactly use them in battle,” Shadowheart reveals.

“No you did not,” Gale agrees. “You used them to have a private conversation of some kind.”

“It was a necessary private conversation,” Tav insists.

“And frankly it was none of your business anyway,” Astarion sniffs.

“It becomes my business when your secret drags us all into battle,” Gale counters.

“And I shared my secret once the situation had been dealt with,” Astarion smiles thinly. “Such a change from yesterday. I thought we were a team, Gale. So much for supportive friends.”

“I do support you, Astarion, and I’d stand beside you again. But that doesn’t mean that I will tolerate anymore secrets.”

“How about this,” Astarion considers. “I’ll tell you all my sordid little secrets, when you do the bloody same!”

“Alright everyone, let’s take a break,” Tav slowly steps between them. “No one is entitled to anything. We share things when we’re ready and when we feel comfor-“

“Oh, because I was so comfortable yesterday?” Astarion yells. Tav closes her mouth. “I confess to you all that I was a slave to a sadistic vampire lord for two hundred years, and no one else can spare me the same godsdamn honesty?” He glares at Gale and Shadowheart in particular, but is quick to round on the rest too. “And don’t you three play dumb. You weren’t there, but I’m sure you heard all about it.” No one contradicts his suspicion that the camp had been gossiping about him.

“I’m sorry that it happened like that,” Tav says. “You should have had a choice. You should have been able to tell us when you were ready.”

A bolt of rage rips through him, loosening his tongue.

“I’m using the tadpoles,” he declares. “And I don’t care what any of you say. A power freely given is a power freely gained.”

“It’s not freely given. These awful things come with a steep cost,” Shadowheart insists firmly.

“I agree. I do not fancy becoming a Mindflayer, nor do I want to see anyone else become one either,” Karlach adds. She looks Astarion in the eye and he feels a flash of guilt, which he instinctively wrestles down.

“We should at least wait until we know more about them,” Gale offers. “I’m all for a little experimentation, but we need to find out more before we accidentally hurt ourselves irreparably.”

“What you propose is lunacy!” Lae’Zel exclaims. “There is no experimentation. There is no way forward that does not end in your deaths! The only way forward is purification, which can only be achieved at a Githyanki crèche!” Lae’Zel is positively fuming now. “How many times must I repeat myself. And how many more times must I be ignored!”

“And how do we know that we won’t be slaughtered the moment we arrive at your crèche?” Shadowheart asks nastily.

“I have already told you that I will vouch for you as my servants,” Lae’Zel answers shortly.

“How kind of you,” Shadowheart shoots back.

“It is. You would do well to appreciate it.”

“You don’t use our names. You don't even like us! How can we trust you to do what you say?”

“I offer you a cure but you are upset that I refer to you as istik?” Lae’Zel mocks. “You think like an istik. You act like an istik. You are an istik.”

“Ok, we don’t have to all agree, but we do have to be polite to each other,” Tav interrupts. “I won’t tell you what to do with your own bodies. If you don’t want to use the tadpoles then that is fine. If you do want to use the tadpoles then that is fine by me too. Astarion and I want to use them, so that’s what’s happening.”

“After all my warnings. You would still listen to the words of your lover over words of reason.” Lae’Zel says disbelievingly. She regards them both with a deep disdain, pointing to Astarion. “That one will lead you down the road to ruin. And you will follow like a lovesick fool.”

“Aren’t you green with envy,” Astarion says snidely.

Lae’Zel swears in Githyanki and draws her sword with a slick scream of metal. Everyone else immediately follows suit. The campsite hums with magic, the air glints with blades. All of them had come to breakfast armed to the teeth.

“If you turn on one of us, you turn on all of us,” Tav warns, magic crackling at her fingertips. Lae’Zel is formidable, but she’s outnumbered. She sheathes her sword with another swear. Everyone else slowly lowers their weapons.

“This leniency is madness. You are all fools for tolerating this,” she speaks directly to Wyll, Karlach, Gale, and even Shadowheart. She turns to Tav. “And I will not stand aside as your foolishness puts us all in danger. I will not watch as you succumb to the parasite. I am leaving, as I should have done a week ago.” Lae’Zel storms towards her tent, leaving her unfinished breakfast to cool where she left it.

“I won’t stop you, but I wish you’d stay,” Tav calls after her.

“As if you could stop me,” Lae’Zel spits. She doesn’t turn around.

“Then safe travels, Lae’Zel. I hope you find your crèche,” Tav says. Lae’Zel chks and begins packing up her things.

“I told you she would abandon us,” Shadowheart says loudly to Tav. “You were wrong to trust a Githyanki. I’m just glad we all still have our heads.”

“Finish getting ready, everyone,” Tav orders, ignoring Shadowheart. “Today we infiltrate the goblin camp and we’ll need all our wits about us.” Tav quickly retreats, returning to her interrupted morning ablutions. Astarion feels a tug at his mind.

Are these things really worth it? Tav sends to him. He can feel her doubt, embarrassment, anger, betrayal. All the emotions she is trying not to show right now.

Absolutely, my sweet, Astarion sends back. They have to be.

He wonders if she can feel anything from him.

I’m sorry she said that to you. A warmth creeps into the connection. He touches it for a moment, just out of curiosity. Is she trying to comfort him? He recoils quickly in shame.

I’m fine, darling. Lae’Zel’s bark is nothing compared to her bite.

He is used to others looking down upon him, he is used to others disparaging his thoughts and ideas. Of course it stings. But he’s alive and that’s what really matters.

A dark flower unfurls itself inside of him as he realizes that Tav had powerfully advocated for his interests, exactly like he had wanted. It begins to wither when he realizes that it came at the cost of Lae’Zel, who had made it very clear that she doesn’t think he is good enough for Tav.

He can’t say he completely disagrees with her. But this is what he has to do. Tav is a free woman. She made her choice. No one here is innocent.

He plans to thoroughly reward Tav tonight.

With the terrifying efficiency of a career soldier, Lae’Zel is soon gone. Wyll sighs as he watches her disappear over the ridge. “I can’t say I blame her, given her people’s history with Mindflayers,” he says. “But I don’t want our group to keep dwindling. Let’s all promise to do a better job of taking care of each other in the future.”

Astarion shoves another ashen forkful of egg into his mouth.

~

Notes:

Kaincha: An expression of dismay or regret

K'chakhi: Idiot

~

Chapter 9: Derailed

[literallyjustanerd]

Fives And Echo Try To Make It Through One (1) Single Night Shift (or, Fourteen Is Not The Limit)

Based, unfortunately, on personal experience.

Summary: Fives sneaks an admittedly cool, but still very contraband, switchblade into the GAR barracks, and both he and Echo end up on night shift as punishment because the Domino twins are nothing if not a package deal. Fives finds a way to make the night worse than it already is.

Words: 1514 Genre: Comedy

           Echo drums his fingers on the side of his seat, the rhythmic focus currently the only thing keeping him from nodding off for a third time. Soft music drones from the subspace radio in the centre console, no longer enough to keep his mind occupied. Not even the thrice-refilled mug of caf beside him can do anything to stave off his exhaustion by now. Bleary eyes drag sluggishly down to the chrono, tracking streaks of neon blue in their wake. The light of comms display casts a blanket of haze over them, one Echo would be more than happy to curl up and sink into. A few deliberate blinks force the chrono back into focus. Another hour and their shift is finally over. Outside the sealed-off comms room, their bunks wait for them, warm and (relatively) clean and –who is he kidding– he would happily sleep on the floor of the mess hall in full armour if it was offered. Helmet included.

“Nearly done,” he says through a yawn, head lolling in Fives’ direction. Facing away from him, hunched forward over the console, Fives gives an uncharacteristically brief and quiet hum. Come to think of it, the past ten minutes have been utterly peaceful. Fives must be even more drained than Echo if he’s run out of words to challenge the silence. Oh, well. He deserved it.

            This was the last time Echo would be taking the fall for one of Fives’ bantha-brained stunts. Sure, he’d made that particular declaration going on fourteen times now, but this time he was drawing his line in the proverbial sand. There were only so many times a man could be relegated to night shift comms duty or fresher maintenance before he found his limit. And, it seemed, fourteen was Echo’s. At least he got to learn something about himself while he suffered. Although… admittedly, if they were going to be reprimanded for anything, smuggling in a contraband pocket vibroknife wasn’t the worst possible reason. Fives had surreptitiously picked it up at a black market on their last posting, secreting it away in his pack before it could be questioned. The blade itself shone an impressive duochrome in the light, and switched easily away into an obsidian casing of a quality weight and sculpting. Okay, it was a cool knife. Echo was a big enough man to admit that. And sure, maybe he’d had his turn to try it out, flicking the blade in and out of its handle, making a few testing swipes. Just to get a feel for it. And he supposed maybe, if he really thought about it, he might have made some comments to Fives that could have been misconstrued as challenging his knife-throwing skills. But on the whole, as usual, it was all Fives’ fault they were in this mess. After all, it wasn’t Echo who had mistimed a throw that ended in Tup very nearly losing an eye. That was all Fives. And yet, package deal that they were, both had been reprimanded and sentenced to two weeks of the graveyard watch.

            He’s snapped from this particular meandering train of half-conscious thought when the radio picks up a heavy, stuttering bassline that has a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Haven’t heard this one since back on Rishi Outpost.” Lowering his feet from where they were propped on the console, he swivels his chair towards Fives. “Kept us going on night shift out there, too.” He gets another bare grunt in response. Fives barely moves. In fact, his limbs seem stiff, awkward, the angles of his back and legs too harsh to be comfortable.

“You good over there?”

“Fine.” At least that got a word out of him. A lie, but a word nonetheless.

“What’s going on, Fives?” Echo’s voice is a warning now, one that Fives reacts to with his usual poise and grace under pressure.

“Nothing!” he sputters, much too fast and far too loud, posture straightening like someone had just grabbed his neck and yanked backwards. Apparently sensing how suspicious it was that he was still facing away from his vod, he, with an alarmingly deep breath in, pivots his chair in short scoots around to face Echo. His hands are jammed into his lap, shoulders raised. A moment after their eyes meet, he gives a pathetically unconvincing smile. “Just tired. That’s all. Almost done, right?”

The silence that Echo rewards him with speaks a thousand words. Most of them curses. Because while Fives tries his level best to look like a man who isn’t in a tremendous amount of discomfort, Echo catches a glint of duochrome on the console behind him. A few drops of something dark and viscous coat the tip of the blade.

Oh, karking hell.

An impressively long test of will ensues as the two stare at each other. In time, though, Echo’s narrowed gaze melts through the already thin ice of Fives’ resolve. It only takes a momentary lapse, a tiny glance downwards, and Echo has his answer.

            Fives grows instantly frantic when Echo stands from his post and makes the three short strides across the room to his brother, wrenching Fives’ hand from where it had been pressed firmly against the gap between his cuisse and his crotchplate. In the space underneath, there’s a short gash in his blacks. A whimper of pain escapes through Fives’ clenched teeth. Echo can do little more than shake his head as blood wells up to darken the polyweave fabric where Fives’ palm had been stemming the flow.

“You kriffing idiot.”

“You can’t tell Rex.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“Or Kix. Please don’t tell Kix.”

“I can’t believe you still have it, let alone that you–”

“It was an accident! It’s not like I meant to–”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to stab yourself? Well that makes it fine!” It isn’t even solely anger that drives Echo’s voice high and blows his tone wide and mocking. The absurdity of the situation gets to him, and he can’t help the laugh that roughs the edges of his words, because of course this is how their shift ends, because of course this would happen to Fives.

“How long?” Echo demands, massaging the bridge of his nose to cover his smile. Fives gives a nervous chuckle, but when Echo repeats the question in his I’m-done-playing voice, his brother’s shoulders sag.

“Ten minutes ago.”

“And you just… sat there?”

“We were so close to being done, I–“

“You sat there with a stab wound for ten minutes.” The insanity of the situation leaves Echo at a loss for any worthy comment, so he resorts instead to gesticulating frantically to Fives, to the open wound, to the room around them and the general mess they were now in. Fives gives his own exaggerated shrug, as best as he can with his hands once again set to the task of trying to stem the bleeding.

“If I’d said anything, they would have sent me straight to medbay.”

Echo cocks an eyebrow.

“Right. A terrible place to be when you’ve been stabbed.”

“It’s been a long night, Echo. A full med eval, filing an incident report, sitting through another reprimand? It could take hours.”

Echo opens his mouth to protest, then stops. Closes it again. Fives can tell when he has an in and he takes it.

“Or…We wait it out just a little longer and we’re done. We go back to our bunks. We sleep.”

Turns out, fourteen isn’t the limit after all.

            The morning lighting sequence is just beginning to take effect when Jesse comes to relieve the ARC troopers and take the next shift, yawning and cradling a mug of caf. In the split second when comms room doors slide open, a flurry of movement ends in Fives and Echo standing side by side, sporting matching grins, posed in a grotesque mockery of what they must think passes for ‘natural.’ Under Fives’ strategically placed arm, Jesse can see the edges of several haphazard strips of tape on his blacks at the top of his leg. There’s a roll of it on the console beside them, along with what looks like wadded up flimsi or tissues, some of it stained with what Jesse has decided to believe is ink.

“…Survive the night, fellas?” he asks carefully. He gets an overloud chorus of greetings and affirmations in reply. With a sigh of resignation, he wonders if the inability to lie to save their kriffing lives is just a 501st trait or if all clones suffer the same affliction. Either way, he decides to take his plausible deniability and cherish it.

“Well… enjoy the rest, then, boys. See you in the barracks.”

“Sure thing, vod!”

“Have a good shift.”

“We’ll save you a seat in the caf.”

“Don’t work too hard!”

            The pair of them hustle out of the comms room like they’re fleeing a losing battle, their babbling audible even as they disappear down the hall. Jesse tries not to notice that Fives is limping the whole way.

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hiii! Are you aware with the glee cover ai of klaine singing Night Shift? This was from a bunch of requests and I’m wondering were there fanfics where they sung this and that leads to many people requesting it or was there a discussion about it that I’m completely missed in the fandom 👀

Thank you I appreciate you!

Hi I'm assuming it's the Lucy Dacus song "Nightshift". I haven't seen any discussion of it on tumblr, nor am aware of any fanfics relating to it. Is anyone else aware of any? ~ Jen

ETA: This is Lynne. I just found it and WOW. AI is freaking me out!! It's actually really good.

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

🍋 Lemon Boys 🍋

Sparked from the Season 2 poster of Sebastian wearing Augur uniform and the idea that Sebastian might move in with Styx. I like the idea of him staying with Styx and feeling safe because of Styx's magic.

Key, latch, door. *Thud* Bag.floor.

As Seb dropped his bag he could feel the floor rushing to meet him, but two hands grabbed him first.

"Hey hey" then more gently, edged in concern "Bas?"

The Irish lilt brought his mind back from blankness, as he realised he was only half standing, propped up by Styx. Eyes closed, arms lead-heavy at his side. Seb didn't even attempt to move, what's the point he'd probably just end up on the hallway floor.

"mmfine"

Seb went to move away but as soon as his head lost contact Styx's shoulder, he lost contact with reality. A single hand guided him back, the other hadn't let go of his jacket. 'I should take that off' Sebastian thought vaguely.

"Like hell you are! you're dead on your feet! Whatd they make you do today?"

No answer, but Styx could feel Sebastian grimace against his shoulder and his own jaw tighten in response.

"Yea yea NDA blah blah. Come on let's get this off ya"

Styx started helping Sebastian roll the Augur jacket off his shoulders. The jacket bit was easy, swapping out Seb's shirt? That was harder, it relied on Seb being able to stand unaided and right now that seemed alot to ask.

"mmjust" Seb paused waiting for his breath to catch up "mmjust tired"

"Yeah, and I'm just old. Whydya have to and sign the flamin contract anyway ya eejit?"

No response. Not that Styx had really expected one. Just as he hadn't been expecting the new bruises making a patchwork of new and old across Seb's torso. It's hard to believe there was even space for new ones.

"Easy. Easy does it." Styx could have cursed the person responsible... would have if he knew who... or even where. Instead he settled for hissing through his teeth.

"Mmmfinedontworry" it came out more slurred than Seb had intended.

Does it count as slurring words if you sigh them all together? The thought floated through Seb's mind, as he sounded about as coherent as the rest of his world. Styx pulled an oversized shirt on to Seb ignoring his tired attempts at reassurance.

"You gonna sleep tonight?" Styx half asked, half instructed.

"You ever feel you've outlived your usefulness? Like maybe on the ship I ..."

"Fuck off with that right now."

"I just mean, sometimes feel like yea I survived ... but was I meant to? I feel like now I'm in a timeline that doesn't want me ... you know?"

"What I know is that you're here and that there's no use tryna guess what the 'universe' - or whatever - thinks of that."

Silence.

"Come on you'll feel better after you've slept." Styx threw a pillow at Seb.

Sleep. The word itself seemed to have a soporific effect on Seb and he felt his eyes welling up at the thought of being able to go to sleep.

"Look ya don't have to sleep in the bedroom, I was gonna watch something - if I can get the feckin screen to work - you can join if ya want."

Seb crumbled into corner of the sofa mumbling something about 'wards' and 'staying up' as sleep took over.

"Yeah, yeah, don't ya worry about that. I'll stay up and keep em goin" though Styx wasn't entirely sure whether Sebastian heard. Throwing a blanket over Seb, Styx glanced at the TV screen

"Yeah. No. Fuck that piece of shite."

He pulled a book from the stack on the coffee table and settled in to 'keep watch'. What did missing one night's sleep matter, he had forever to catch up anyway.

[one-piece-aus]

Whumptober Day 9

Sabo x Reader

You could say it is the sequel to this story but that's up to you.

TW: Survivor's guilt

"Get up lazy bones," Koala orders, shaking Sabo awake.

"Huh?" Sabo stirs but becomes less sleepy when Koala hits him on the head with his pillow. "Ow! I'm up, I'm up."

"It's your turn to watch," Koala states dropping the pillow next to him before going over to her sleeping bag.

"Right... right..." Sabo rubs his eyes, trying to remove the tiredness from his body.

The blond sits up and reaches for his top hat. He glances over at Koala who had already fallen asleep in no time. Sighing to himself, knowing he'll be alone with his thoughts, Sabo stares at his hat now in his grasp, specifically the two photos inside. His hand takes the pictures and brings them out so he could see them clearly in the fire's light.

One is of Luffy and Ace all grown up, surrounded by the elder brother's fire that protects them from the marines. The other is of [Y/n] who is cheerfully reading a book to a few rescued children. Sabo half smiles gazing over the photos, seeing the people he loves with enthusiasm, yet his heart is squeezed at the sight since he knows Ace and [Y/n] are gone. While an excuse could be made for why he wasn't able to save Ace, nothing could be said for the loss of [Y/n].

"Why... why did I let you die, [Y/n]?" Sabo asked as if you could hear his words, yet only silence responds. The blond brushes the rim of his hat as he thought back to the event. "I was there, I could've..." He paused, unsure what he could've done to stop your death. Sighing to himself, figuring he best not ponder on the matter any longer tonight, he placed the pictures back in his hat.

"Sabo..." 

"Hm?" Sabo glances over at Koala, thinking the feminine voice was her, but the redhead continued to snooze away. Sabo narrowed his eyes at the girl before placing his top hat on his head. "That's rather strange."

Sabo did his best to ignore his speculating thoughts of where the voice came from. He tried distracting himself by manipulating fire, but he had begun to grow uneasy, feeling eyes on his back. The area seemed to have dropped in temperature as he shiver when chills ran across his arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"Sabo..."

"Who's there?" Sabo inquired standing up.

"Sabo..."

Cautiously, the fire human glanced around, trying to identify where the voice came from. He couldn't be imagining it if there was a source. Picking up his pipe, he extended his flames to his weapon and waved it around like a torch.

"Sabo..." the voice called once more, this time sounding a little distant away from him.

Sabo headed in the direction of the haunting voice, determined to know the source. He wished to know why it called to him. The voice continued to lead him by whispering his name, luring him to darker and colder areas. Sabo wasn't aware how far he had strayed from camp until he tripped and faceplanted into the soft ground.

"Wait..." Sabo lifted himself up and analyzed the ground. "Snow? When did-"

"Sabo..."

The blond looked up to see you standing in front of him. His eyes widen as a mix of emotions filled him when he laid eyes on the woman he never had the chance to fully love.

"[Y/n], what- what are you doing here? I thought- I thought you- you..." Sabo didn't want to say it.

"Sabo..." Your lifeless eyes bore into his and you place your hands on his shoulders. Arrows begin to stick out of your arms and the poisoned tips leak their substance down your flesh and onto Sabo's. Tears run down your eyes as ice freezes him in place. "Why did you not protect me?"

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

"Sabo! Sabo! Snap out of it!" Koala cried, frantically shaking the poor blond awake.

"Koala? When did you- I- [Y/n]-"

"Calm down, Sabo," Koala tells him and makes him lie back down. "You were muttering in your sleep again, crying this time too."

"Oh..." Sabo pressed his fingers to his cheek and felt the damp trail that his tears left.

"Uh... anyway, it's your turn to watch-"

"Actually Koala, could you get Hack to do it instead?" Sabo requested, and pulled his cover back on. "I don't think I'm in the right state of mind to keep watch."

Sabo could hear the girl protest but had already zoned out of his surroundings as he laid eyes on you standing in the distance.