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mshermia · 4 years ago

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LYKHIW Timeline - WIP Page

Welcome! This post records the status and progress of my work expanding my Post-Endgame (MCU) series to “Like You’d Know How It Works”.

I left the cinema post-Endgame incredibly mad and disappointed. After I aired my immediate frustration with the movie in two One-Shots, I decided for my own peace of mind, I had to try and salvage the mess that was Endgame somehow, because I simply like the characters too much, not to. A week after I started writing, I published the first chapter on AO3. About a year later, I felt the need to expand on the original fix-it. I have and will continue to add to this timeline, writing different adventures that will mostly focus on Tony Stark and Peter Parker.

Genre: MCU fanfiction

The Fix-It

Like You’d Know How It Works (completed)

Setting: sets in right after the battle at the Compound is over, supersedes the concluding events of Endgame.

Premise: Straight after the battle is won - or lost, depending on your perspective - Peter tries to convince the Avengers to save Mr. Stark by going back into the Quantum Realm.

Tropes: time-travel, quantum realm, protective Peter

Mood: grief & loss, hope, family

Someone had organized this room at Metro General hospital for them to sit and talk. Sitting was not an option for Peter though. He couldn’t bear to sit. He couldn’t bear to have anyone look at his injuries either, not when there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“You said that whatever we do in the past will not change our present!” Peter’s fist hit the table with a crash. They simply weren’t listening. His face felt grimy and tight in places where the dirt from the battlefield stuck to the tears he had cried over Mr. Stark’s body. Maybe he should have thought of washing the traces off his face before confronting a few of the Avengers and Doctor Strange. It might have made him seem a little more collected. A little more rational. “That’s what you just said!”

Chapters 9/9 | 42 K | Teen and Up

Follow-up Shorts and Multi-chapters

Just Outside The Door (completed)

Setting: Days after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise: Peter did it. He found his mentor and brought him back, but sometimes it all just seemed too good to be true. Sometimes, his mind played tricks on him and he just couldn’t sleep, wondering if he had really brought Mr. Stark back or if it had all just been a desperate dream.

Tropes: nightmares, PTSD, protective Tony, Whumptober 2020: No. 23

Mood: fear, working through trauma, comfort

There was only silence in his room now unless you were to count the frantic beat of his heart and the deep shaky breaths he sucked in and blew back out. It hadn’t even been a nightmare this time, not truly. He hadn’t really fallen asleep in the first place. Exhaustion was tugging at the edges of his consciousness and that’s where his thoughts had started to spiral.

Mr. Stark was okay. Peter was… he was pretty sure of that. He had succeeded, had brought him back home and now he was okay. But there was a little voice in the back of his head that kept nagging, that kept telling him that maybe… maybe he was wrong. Maybe it had all been a delusional dream, too good to be true, Peter wishing something into reality that was unobtainable. He had seen his mentor die after all. He had died right in front of him, the memory etched into his memory, right there whenever he closed his eyes. Dimensions, time travel… was that really real?

Chapters 1/1 | 4.2 K | Teen and Up

Nothing Left To Lose (in progress)

Setting: 2 weeks after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

The reversal of the Snap added an additional 3.5 billion people back to Earth’s population. 3.5 billion more people to house somewhere, 3.5 billion mouths to be fed, 3.5 billion people who return to a world that was not expecting them to ever come back.

Tropes: food shortage, starvation, looting, blurred lines of good and evil; Whumptober 2020: No. 3

Mood: anger, desperation, conflicted who to help

Tony groaned, rolling his stiff neck from one side to the other as the gate clicked shut behind Pepper. “Remind me again… Why did we agree to this?”

Pepper didn’t bother to send him a scolding look as she wrapped the security seal around the gate’s locking mechanism. “Because we’re good neighbors?”

“We are?” He smelled like damp fur. When did wet fur and barn animals become his life? “Since when exactly? Was there a house meeting? Did I miss it?”

“Mh… do you need a reminder of the process of negotiation?” She took a step towards him, one hand twisted in his shirt pulling him close against her, their lips almost close enough to touch. “You smell like wet alpaca.”

He pulled in an affronted gasp. The hand that was still holding his shirt pushed him away from her, her lips stretched wide in amusement. “Come on, Cesar. Maybe I’ll remind you after a hot shower.”

Chapters 1/2 | 3.4 K | Teen and Up

Unnamed WIP (unpublished)

Setting: 4 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

For months, Peter has been commuting between the city and the Stark’s remote cabin in the woods. But now that life in NYC has regained some normalcy, he really wants to show Morgan what the greatest city in the world has to offer.

Tropes: power outage, panic attack, PTSD; Whumptober 2020: No. 27

Nope. “Not going down that rabbit-hole, Parker,” he muttered to himself.

“What rabbit-hole?” Morgan was sitting opposite him, munching on the cookies Pepper had put out.

“Nevermind.” Peter scooped two tea spoons of sugar into his coffee, then added another one just to be safe.

“Mommy says coffee corrupts the soul.”

“Please, like you even know what ‘corrupt’ means….”

Morgan tilted her head to the side, just like her mom would do. “I know it’s not nice.”

Peter gave her a look. “Well, your dad says it’s the elixir of life.” And Mr. Stark would know. Peter gave his head one hard shake. Tony. Tony would know. One sip of the black brew and Peter’s teeth hurt. Definitely too much sugar. “Okay, remember what we talked about?”

Morgan sat up straight, her eyes wide. “Ask mommy first!”

“That’s right! Make sure you use those puppy eyes, too.” Morgan nodded along enthusiastically while he quickly nicked her glass of milk and poured a generous potion of it into his mug. “We wait till, you know, till Tony’s gone downstairs or something and then—”

“And then you’ll ask me what?”

Chapters -/2 | - K | Teen and Up

Christmas Eve - At Peace (completed)

Setting: 5 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Just a couple of months after they defeated Thanos, Tony and Pepper throw a Christmas party. Instead of a partying kid, Tony finds his Spiderling outside in the snow at the grave he has been trying to ignore ever exists.

Tropes: anger and grief, blame and fear, no prompt

Mood: wholesome, family, frustration

Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "I mean it!" For good measure, he took a healthy gulp from the cup, positively burning his throat in the process. But it wasn't until Harley threw his hands in the air and turned his back in defeat - for now - that Tony allowed his face to cringe at the sting. Those little trouble makers were not helping with his heart condition. Speaking of trouble... "Where is Peter?"

Harley crossed his arms in front of himself, his mind clearly brooding on a new strategy. "No clue."

Tony's next sip of the hot wine was a lot smoother than the first. "What do you mean, no clue?"

"It generally means that the person doesn't have any information about the subject that you are—"

"Alright, short stuff..." Tony's eyes were searching the room but the little spider was nowhere to be seen. "A bit less of the asshole routine please?"

"Listen, if you want me to babysit, same rules apply as they do for Morgan." Brazen in his brattiness, the little shit ladled a good helping of mulled wine into a new cup. "I'll need a heads-up and generous compensation that I'm happy to re-negoti— Hey!"

Harley tried to hold on to the cup that Tony once again just plucked from his hands. "You've had enough of this!"

"That one is for Rhodey," the boy scowled.

Chapters 1/1 | 3.8 K | Teen and Up

The Winter Air (completed)

Setting: 6 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Tony, Peter, and Morgan spent a winter day outside the Stark residence.

Tropes: accident, hurt Tony, hurt Peter, Whumptober 2020: No. 13

Mood: fun to fear, injury, accusations, blame

Well, it wasn’t that easy. Because things were apparently never just easy in the life of one Peter Parker. Turned out, there were still some assholes out there. Not the Thanos-kind. Not for now at least. The regular kind though and Peter for one saw absolutely no reason as to why anything should have changed in his responsibility to stop them from being assholes.

His aunt somehow disagreed more often than she didn’t. Annoyingly now though, she managed to drag Mr. Stark to her side a lot more than she used to, too.

Peter shook his head at himself. Tony. T-O-N-Y. It wasn’t that hard, was it? He still slipped up every so often. But as much as that bugged him, it was the others who bugged him even more. Colonel Rhodes and Hawkeye among them the most willing to tease Peter about it. Him, and Tony too, for his mentor never commented on it with more than a crooked smile. When it was just the two of them, that was often the only indication for Peter, that he had said it again.

It made the times when it really was just them so enjoyable. A new ease between them. They had never had this, this kind of bonding. Sure, they’d spent time together before everything had gone downhill on their little space adventure, in the lab or on a normal earth-bound mission. Not like this though, not like Peter staying over at the Stark residence for a few days at a time. Not like him sliding along-side Morgan on the ice on the lake, trying to catch Tony. Not like Morgan falling over and taking Tony right with her and the way Peter’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard when Mr. Stark’s sweet little Morguna drowsed him with two full hands of snow and he just hadn’t seen it coming.

Chapters 3/3 | 14 K | Teen and Up

Unnamed Multichapter WIP (unpublished)

Setting: picks up where The Winter Air ended, 6 months after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

First time all of the Avengers come together after the Snap was reversed. With Tony retired, Peter has to find his place in the team and learn to work with the other Avengers without Tony. Tensions are running high with the events of Civil War still largely unresolved and lingering resentments stemming from Peter’s multidimensional rescue mission to save Tony.

Tropes: Avengers mission, mistrust, growing as a team; Whumptober 2020: No.7

Tony’s eyes went wide. Was it possible that…

“Hey, FRI?”

“Good morning, boss. It’s 10:16 am on February 5th, 2024. The temperature outside is—”

“Yeah, just… can you stop for a moment?” He waved her off. “Send Dory out to the lake, would you. There’s some stuff still lying out there on the ice.”

“Right away, Sir.”

Tony watched as the little blue drone circled the lake, getting closer and closer to what he was sure were the Spiderling’s clothes still lying out there, where he had taken them off to—

“Hey, what are you doing out of bed!”

Despite himself, he twitched as Pepper made her way into the room. She had pushed the door open with her hip, balancing his breakfast on a large wooden tablet.

“Here, let me—” Tony stepped towards her, arms at the ready to take the tablet but she held it out of his reach.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get back in that bed!”

Chapters -/- | - K | Teen and Up

There... And Back Again (in progress)

Setting: about a year after Tony was brought back to life

Premise: The Starks drive upstate to the old Mansion where Tony grew up. To Tony’s horror, the trip takes him and the kids a lot further down memory lane than anyone could have predicted.

Tropes: time travel, Howard Stark’s A++ parenting; Febuwhum2021 Day 12 - Who Are You

“Pete, seriously…” Tony looked up into the review mirror trying to catch his eye. “Can you not? I don’t want Morgan up all night, terrified of some dumb ghosts.”

“Come on, it’s just a story, Tony. Morgan knows I made it all up, right?” Peter winked at her, then wiggled his eyebrows in a way that seemed kind of familiar.

“Yeah, daddy.” But Morgan was full-on ignoring Tony, her eyes on Peter trying to imitate the wink and wiggly eyebrows he had just sent her way. “It’s just a story.”

He could do little more than groan as Peter continued to spin a tale of spirits and witches, ancient pacts and promises that had to be kept, ransoms that the spirits had vowed to retrieve.

“It was a night very much like tonight,” Peter continued, his voice low and full of dreadful foreboding, “that the witches broke that pact they had signed with the blood of the innocent…”

“Morgan’s gasp morphed into a giddy giggle while Tony could only rub a hand across his brow and mumbled, "Blood of the innocent, give me a fucking break…”

Chapters 1/3 | 4,4 K | Teen and Up

Are We Out Of The Woods Yet?, (completed)

Setting: 4 years after Tony was brought back from the multiverse

Premise:

Peter takes Morgan into the depths of a National Park so she can collect samples for a biology project.

Tropes: Peter & Morgan, protective Peter, hurt Morgan, hurt Peter, Whumptober 2020: No. 12

Mood: disappointment, mistakes, anger, angst, comfort

“There are so many reasons why online classes are better than going to school.”

Peter shook his head. “And there are plenty of reasons why learning in school with other students is preferable. How it helps retain the material better than—”

Morgan groaned without even looking at him, her nose in the air, eyes on the leafy trees above them. “You can learn the same things at home, only then you could have dinner at night with us instead of in your stinky room in Boston.”

“Hey,” he craned his neck to see where she went, then walked after her. “My room doesn’t stink.”

“It’s a boy’s room.” She said it like that alone was a valid argument, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, the girl’s dorms he had been in—

He stopped himself. Not the time and place.

Chapters 2/2 | 8 K | Teen and Up

#wip #wip page #irondad #spider son #prompt fill #peter parker fic #tony stark #iron dad and spider son #mcu fanfiction #fanfic #LYKHIW-timeline

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ryqoshay · 3 years ago

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OTP Ask Meme (Impatient Edition) NicoMaki

Yeah, I know the point of these things is to wait for followers to Ask questions from the list, but reading though this one got me thinking too much. And, as the title implies, I got impatient and wanted to answer them all. Right away.

Anyway, credit to @lonelypond for this version coming across my dash. Reblog that version if you want to do this thing correctly.

Also, just because I’ve already answered these here, I’ve expanded on some for various reasons and left others short if I believe the reasons are obvious. So if you still want to do the whole interactive thing, you can still ask for clarification or whatever.

And finally, there will be spoilers ahead for How to Handle a Nico, both scenes I’ve written and posted, as well as some that remain in my Notes and WIP Warehouse. I’ll try to remember to link to the chapters mentioned.

1. Who wakes up first?

Nico, so she can make breakfast for her Maki.

2. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

Maki. Usually because she studies or works later and/or longer hours. She is also not above pulling Nico back into bed when she comes to wake her.

3. Who takes longer getting ready?

Usually Nico.

4. When they can’t sleep, what do they do?

Maki’s libido can pretty much always be counted on to at least exhaust Nico, if not both of them.

5. Who falls asleep while watching a movie?

Depends on who had a rough day or week at work/school, though Maki may get bored and either watch Nico or fall asleep during overly sappy romance movies.

6. Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small affectionate smile?

Either, depending on the stresses of the prior day.

7. Who comes up with the cheesy pick-up lines?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally.

8. Who gets extremely competitive playing Mario Kart?

They both are, though in different ways. This is depicted in Consolation Prize.

9. Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling?

Maki, especially if she is in an unfamiliar place.

10. Who sets the other’s ringtone to something loud and obnoxious behind their back?

Both, though Maki only in retaliation for whatever teasing Nico may have done.

11. Who rearranges the bookshelf/DVD shelf in alphabetical order?

Nico likes a proper presentation of her idol merch. Maki is too busy with other stuff to care about special organization.

12. Who does the hands-over-the-eyes “Guess Who” thing?

Nico.

13. Who points out a dog when they see one?

Either.

14. Who’s prone to road rage?

Maki, especially when she is trying to get to the hospital when called in at some odd hour, or trying to get home after a stressful day.

15. Who’s prone to wearing socks indoor (or to sleep)?

Nico gets cold easier. Warm socks help.

16. Who reminds the other to put on sunscreen before going to the beach (or pool)?

Nico, partly out of habit from doing it with her siblings and partly as an excuse to offer to help Maki put it on. Depicted in Sunscreen.

17. Who carries all the important documents while traveling?

Nico.

18. Who gets the window seat?

Nico. Maki traveled enough with her parents and is happy to let her girlfriend see the sights instead.

19. Who puts their cold hands/feet on the other?

Nico intentionally. Maki unintentionally, usually.

20. What do they argue about the most?

I don’t believe anyone has been brave enough to track the data for this.

21. Who’s clumsier?

Maki, especially in the kitchen. Nico has her moments though.

22. Who texts more often?

Nico. With heavy emoji use. (I need to depict this more in HtHaN somehow)

23. Who is better with kids?

Nico. She was the primary caregiver for her siblings for many years after all.

24. Who’s the better cook?

Nico. See above.

25. Who mistakes salt for sugar?

Maki. Even after Nico labeled the containers.

26. Who puts the fork in the microwave?

Maki.

27. Who cooks at 2 in the morning?

Nico. Maki isn’t allowed to cook without Nico’s supervision. However, this would be a rare occasion as Nico typically will prepare something ahead of when Maki is arriving home this late and leave it for her to reheat.

28. Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1 a.m.?

Maki, when she’s reheating whatever Nico made for her after arriving home late.

29. Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?

Both.

30. Who likes doing the dishes?

Nico, though it would be more appropriate to say she doesn’t dislike it.

31. Who has bigger cravings? What are they?

Nico loves her sweets. Maki loves her Nico.

32. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

Nico is highly attentive to Maki’s preferences in food. Knowing what Maki likes in restaurants lets her know what she can make at home. And food is definitely one of the best ways to Maki’s heart.

33. How do they eat ice cream? What’s their favorite flavors?

Nico likes sundaes with lots of sugary toppings. She also likes trying new flavors and will often get multiple scoops of different flavors. Maki is fine with a single scoop cone.

34. Do they go on dates? What are they like?

As often as their schedules allow. Maki likes quite dates like walks in a park or museum or sitting up on a hillside for stargazing. Nico likes shopping for outfits and idol merch, going to movies and bustling amusement parks. But both love watching the other enjoy their hobbies so they’re willing to go along with the other’s interests as well.

35. What do they smell when they smell Amortentia?

Nico smells her father’s aftershave, strawberries, and stewing tomatoes. Maki smells Nico’s special tomato curry, Nico’s shampoo, and the cinnamon sugar of the snickerdoodle cookies the Nishikino baker made for her to leave out for Santa.

Yes, two of Maki’s are directly related to Nico. What can I say? She’s addicted.

36. Which one is the secret snuggler?

Maki. The more tired or drunk she is, the clingier she gets.

37. Which one offers their jacket to the other when they complain they feel cold?

Maki. Nico gets cold easier, so Maki is usually the one to offer her jacket.

38. Who reaches for the other one’s hand while driving?

Yes.

39. Who leaves little notes in the other one’s lunch?

Nico, because she is the only one who makes lunch for them both; Maki isn’t the type to do such a thing even if she were allowed to cook more. (Bonus: What does it say?) Usually the messages are simple affirmations of love, but she is not above getting snarky if the two had an argument recently.

40. Who is the most affectionate?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

41. Who is the big spoon/little spoon?

Usually, Maki is the big spoon as she is quite fond of hugging her Nico like a teddy bear, though Nico will sometimes jetpack.

42. What is their favorite feature of their partner?

Maki loves Nico’s smile, particularly her genuine, unforced, non-idol persona smile. Nico loves Maki’s voice, specifically her singing voice.

43. What is the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

Nico starts teasing Maki more, no longer to “put the spoiled rich girl in her place” but rather to see more of the adorable reactions. Maki actively tries to deny her feelings, even to, or perhaps especially to herself, falling back on established habits of insisting that she doesn’t have time to date, all the while quietly continuing to seek more time with Nico.

44. What are their nicknames for each other?

Both exclusively use -chan with the other.

45. Who worries the most? Over what?

Early on, both are worried about losing the other for different reasons. Nico is afraid that should a scandal occur that ruins her idol career, Maki may blame herself and leave. Maki fears that a busy schedule of studying in medical school followed by long hours at the hospital may turn away someone like Nico, whose attention seeking seems infinite. Later, as they settle into their relationship, their concerns turn to more stereotypical adult fears; traffic or transit accidents, sever illnesses, etc.

46. Who initiates kisses?

Nico in public. Maki in private.

47. Who says I love you first? How did it happen?

Nico, by accident, as depicted in Spoken.

48. Who tells their friends/family about their relationship first?

Technically Maki in both cases, though with their friends, Nico was active in the chatroom, and with their mothers, Maki only beat Nico by maybe half an hour or so. These instances are depicted in Reconstructed Reunion and Telling Mama.

49. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Both have busy schedules, even as early as the years immediately following high school, so spending time away from each other is quite commonplace. This still did not stop Maki from going through a bout of depression during Nico’s first tour as a professional idol, as depicted in Homesick and Homecoming. From then on, Maki starts a tradition of visiting Nico during longer tours so as to break up their time away a bit.

50. Who gets overwhelmed by small acts of kindness?

Nico, as the more romantic of the two. This isn’t to say Maki doesn’t value sentiment, she just has other ways of expressing it than being overwhelmed.

#NicoMaki #How to Handle a Nico

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 4 years ago

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After The Dawn

Hello, hello! I am indeed still around, and sometimes even do non-work-related stuff. About, oh, 2 years ago, this got sent in as a prompt, so have a little 4 times + 1 thing, for the occasion of me processing my recent DS9 comfort-rewatch (by which I of course mean “mostly spending a lot of time gazing adoringly at Kira Nerys and crying”). As far as I recall, I’ve never actually posted anything from my giant decade plus WIP pile of Trek stuff, so this is a first - I hope it doesn’t disappoint.

The prompt was “five different sunlights”. So here are five snapshots of Kira Nerys from joining the resistance to DS9 and beyond, ~4400 words. Veers into Kira/Jadzia because I’m hilariously predictable. Also includes brief appearances by (in order): Lupaza, Furel, Shakaar, Damar, Garak, Kaksidy, and Jake. Mentions of several others.

Contains discussion of the occupation of Bajor and canon character deaths, but nothing explicit I can think of to warn about.

---

After The Dawn

1. 2356

The raid was long over but her fingers still shook – cold, always because of the cold, never from fear. Every so often they would twitch more decisively, as if recalling the sensation of the phaser rifle she was just barely big enough to hold jerking to life in her grip. But then they’d travel to her right ear of their own accord, tracing the lines of her new earring. A proper d’ja pagh all of her own, with the symbol of the Kira family emblazoned in the metal – echoing the beautiful engraving she’d always admired on her father’s.

Lupaza had worked through the night to make it for her, by the feeble light of one of their few still-working heaters, with skill that seemed otherworldly to Kira (who, though by far the youngest among them, knew better than to ask about anyone’s life before joining a resistance cell). Lupaza, who had looked at the scrawny thirteen-year-old hanging around their camp, and who’d chosen to believe in her, and speak up for her. Who’d presented her handiwork to ‘their newest member’ at sunrise, during the change of guard at the mouth of their current cavern hideout, letting the winter light glimmer on its silvery surface for all to see. And Kira had beamed at her, not caring about who’d been around to witness it or how young it may have made her look.

I’m in the Resistance, she wanted to shout over and over again until the reality truly set in, flooded and near-overwhelmed by the newfound sense of belonging and pride and brightly burning defiance mixing in her chest.

Again and again her fingers went – over the cuff hugging the shell of her ear snugly, down the single deceptively delicate chain, to the simple but beautiful main piece. She could almost believe it was still warm to the touch, heated by the orange-glow burn of Bajor’s atmosphere on Cardassian hull metal – made from stolen Bajoran ore, mined with stolen Bajoran labour. It was only right and just that it be returned this way. The rest of the beritium hull salvage they’d stripped from the ship would be used for lining the walls of their hideout, shielding them from sensor sweeps and the bite of the winter cold alike. But this small bit of it was a shield all Kira’s own.

It was a comforting presence, a slight but grounding weight with a depth of meaning that its size belied. Lupaza smiled at her fascination and distraction every time she happened to pass by, promising she’d get used to it. Furel agreed, for once without a trace of a joke in his voice, and slapped a hand on her bony shoulder with a gruff: “You’ve more than earned it, kid.”

Shakaar himself, in between whatever it was his leaderly duties entailed, took a moment to consider her. “It suits you,” was all he said on the matter, though if he meant the earring or the phaser Kira had for the first time stuck in her own belt instead of giving it back after cleaning was anyone’s guess. Then, turning to leave, he added, “Good job out there.”

There was something like sadness behind all of their eyes. Kira chose not to see it, or dwell on it.

She was in the Resistance.

She didn't even know if any of her (many) shots during the ambush had found their mark, but it didn't seem to matter. She could, she would help protect her father and his little garden, scrounged up, cobbled together, but growing. Protect her remaining brother, for the one she had failed to. She would honour her mother, the bravest woman I've ever known, Nerys. She saved us all, at great cost to herself.

Whenever her fingers floated back down and twitched for want of a rifle trigger again, she told herself to be patient. There would be more work for her, more chances to be useful, more chances to prove herself. No more sitting idly by, and no more fear.

2. 2369

Even after weeks on the station Kira had yet to manage to sleep through an entire night, but she sincerely doubted it was the bed's fault. Sure, the Cardassian-designed beds in the Cardassian-designed quarters on the Cardassian-designed station left much to be desired, but they certainly beat the ground of a half-frozen cave. And yet here she was, with endless damn bunking arrangements as one of the most frequently brought-up complaints among the crew body. Why and how those PADDs always seemed to end up on her desk was anyone's guess. She'd been prepared for a more administrative role, yes, but…

“The time is oh-six-hundred hours,” the computer helpfully informed her.

Kira huffed, and tossed aside another PADD with a blinking Request denied, then shrugged on her uniform jacket and made to leave her quarters for a quick breakfast.

It was still an odd thought that took getting used to: her quarters – hers alone; a viewport in the bulkhead, allowing her to see the stars and, when the rotation was right, Bajor’s own familiar sun from a very new perspective. Regular meals thanks to Federation engineers patching up Cardassian replicators and whipping them into shape. Shops and eateries opening on the Promenade. The ruinous mess the Cardassians left behind them slowly coming together again into something functional. Kira permitted herself a wry twist of the mouth at the thought – hopefully the planet the station had formerly orbited could manage to do the same.

The discovery of the wormhole brought fascinating, colourful crowds to the station so quickly and in such volumes, she didn't envy Odo at all. Even the small segment of the Promenade she saw on her way from her quarters to the replimat was enough to reinforce, every morning, that this was no longer Terok Nor: grey in every way imaginable, filled with throngs of terrified, beaten-down Bajoran workers and their Cardassian overseers, delighting in the former’s disposability.

The small but lively, chattering crowd in the replimat seemed to underscore all of her thoughts – no more waiting in line for gruel with the exhausted shift that had just left ore processing.

“Good morning!”

Instead, a friendly Federation face. The pattern of spots that ran down the sides of Lieutenant Dax’s face and down her neck was fascinating to Kira still – not Bajoran, and certainly not the grey, flared bony Cardassian necks that had made up most of Kira's world up until not so very long ago. She had to stop herself from staring often, even though, judging by that smirk, the Lieutenant did not seem to mind. She appeared to relish attention in general, of all kinds. Kira ducked her head, and tried to focus on the replicator instead.

“Something wrong? Quark interfering with the menus again?” Dax was right behind her, peeking over her shoulder, eyebrow raised, and smiling. Somehow she always seemed to be doing that.

“Oh, no, nothing like that, thankfully. Still not quite used to this, is all.” She shuffled her feet and made no real move to complete an order.

“Hm. Well, if I may, Major, I’d recommend the raktajino for early morning starts like this.”

“Raktajino?” Kira repeated oafishly, biting back the Early!? her mind had immediately supplied.

“Klingon coffee. Try it – I think you’ll like it.”

Kira was sceptical, but Dax seemed to be very sincere – so after a few button presses she found herself holding a large mug of something hot, dark, and quite thick. She wrinkled her nose and took a sip.

“It’s, uh… strong.”

“Hits the spot, right?”

The crooked, almost sly smile on the Lieutenant’s face was contagious. Kira didn’t even feel like bringing up growing up under an occupation-enforced famine as an excuse for her own lack of a developed or sophisticated palate or culinary taste in general.

The drink did have a real kick to it, and Kira took another sip. “Yeah, it does.”

“Just don’t go overboard with them – let me tell you, I made some grave mistakes there right after I became a host. Curzon,” Dax smirked, shaking her head, then waved at the table they’d found themselves next to. “Mind if I join you?”

Kira thought about it, but only for a moment.

“Not at all, Lieutenant.”

And ah, there it was then, as soon as they sat down: the small, incessant, bitter sting of you knew what they were doing to us and you sat by and did nothing that insisted on making itself known at very inopportune times. It was, however, becoming more bearable by the day and with every individual met, every new reassurance that they were here now, despite everything, to make a good start. Together.

When the Cardassians came they were helpful and charming too, nagged the little voice at the back of her mind. But this couldn’t be like that, and just looking at Dax was enough to… well, perhaps Kira was being a naive fool, but there seemed to be ground to build here, and she found herself willing to try. And after all, she knew she herself was ready to do anything, to lay her life down for Bajor. She just needed to be pointed the right way – or, rather, she needed to be able to point herself the right way. Now that knowing who the enemy was and who the enemy could turn out to be had gotten more complicated. Still, if nothing else: she wouldn’t let it be a repeat of anything, and she was prepared to be a thorn in anyone’s side, Federation or provisional government or otherwise, for as long as was necessary.

“You seem to be mulling over something grim already. Everything alright?”

The concern was genuine enough, but Kira had no idea how to even begin to explain all of it, even if she’d wanted to.

“Just thinking about some complaints about quarters I need to handle,” she lied smoothly – or what she hoped was smooth, anyway.

Dax caught on, and backed off. Lifetimes of experience to thank – or perhaps Kira was just that easy to read. A transcript of Trakor’s annotated ninth prophecy just waiting on a lectern, as Lupaza would say.

“Sure. Let me know if I can help.”

“With station admin? Aren’t you a science officer?”

“Absolutely. But it's in all our best interests to get this place running as smoothly as possible as fast as possible, right?”

Kira narrowed her eyes at her, entirely unconvinced. “Right.”

“Fine,” Dax threw her hands up in the air in a very silly, exaggerated gesture, “I admit it, I’m after juicy gossip. There’s bound to be quarter reassignment requests in there! What could be juicier?”

Kira couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, then. “You are ridiculous.”

Dax grinned right back. “Glad to be of help. Let’s get to Ops, you can tell me all about it on the way.”

When Kira got to her feet, both she herself and the entire day – if it could truly be called that on a space station – felt somehow lighter already.

3. 2372

It was swelteringly hot under the sun of some new, as of yet unnamed planet, in the midst of a survey mission that had already gone on longer than scheduled. Hardly Kira’s idea of a good – or productive – time.

The place was an unpleasant dustbowl broken up by stray glass-encrusted rock here and there, and Kira was surrounded by a bunch of bustling, tricorder-armed Starfleet explorer types she would have sneered at, not so long ago – but many of whom she’d now consider fast friends. She’d hardly consider herself an ideal choice for helming this particular mission, but Sisko had been insistent, and so here she was. It would appear that, if nothing else, it gave her time to indulge in reverie – a truly rare occurrence.

The unfamiliar stars of the Gamma Quadrant, unimaginably far from everything she’d ever known, could now be reached within seconds, thanks to the wormhole – more proof of how the Prophets kept looking out for Bajor in sometimes quite unexpected ways. And Kira, as Bajor’s official representative on the mission, was determined to do her best to facilitate and build upon their efforts.

“Take a look at this, Major!” It was Dax calling her over, her tricorder beeping over some bizarre green-magenta form of plant life she found beneath a rocky outcrop a little off the not-so-alien dirt path Kira was stomping down.

“What've you got for me, Lieutenant?”

“Some kind of elaborate root system stretches on for more than a kilometer underground, running beneath the very acidic soil, with an impressive – and perfectly symmetrical – array of large tubers.”

Kira shot the sensor readings a look. “Huh, could’ve fed a whole resistance cell for an entire winter on nothing but a few of those.”

She frowned as soon as the words left her mouth – Jadzia Dax, decorated Starfleet science officer and dedicated, studious initiate who’d earned the approval of the strict Trill Symbiosis Commission, certainly hadn’t had such prosaic, practical implications of her findings in mind. For a very, very brief moment, Kira felt a sting of embarrassment – but then her mind snapped decisively back into its standard guarded, resolute position: she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

Dax, as had somehow become a somewhat frustrating habit of hers, seemed to be able to encompass Kira’s entire internal dialogue with a glance. But somehow she did it… gently, without making Kira feel small or inadequate in any way. No smug Starfleet superiority here, even with all the accumulated bragging rights of all the lifetimes under her belt. And – perhaps most importantly – no trace of pity to be found. Instead, a wellspring of enthusiasm.

“Their composition is interesting, I agree. Starchy, and rich in several key proteins – this has potential for significant contributions to agriculture. I bet Keiko will love to get her hands on this – see what she can set up in one of the hydroponics bays.”

Her smile was as bright as the orange-tinted light of the unfamiliar sun, but Kira took up the challenge of matching it.

Jadzia leaned in, almost conspiratorially, “Help me catalogue it?”

“I, uh, don’t really know what the procedure–”

“No worries, I’ll walk you right through it. It’s fun!” Kira’s scepticism must have been written all over her face. “I swear it is! I’m not just saying that, you’ll see.”

“Not to mention,” Jadzia winked, “it’ll get us under some nice shade and right next to a cooling unit.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“And you love it.”

Kira couldn’t disagree.

4. 2375

The weak, grey light of Cardassia Prime’s sun filtered through the slits in the cellar windows – if they could even be called that.

Another very literally bleak dawn. No contact with the Federation. No hope of reinforcements, or extraction, or help of any kind. Negligible chances of news from Deep Space 9, of the fleet, of Odo’s health, of anything at all. And here, far behind enemy lines, Kira and her unlikely comrades presumed dead, their network of allies and carefully-hidden carefully-built-up resources destroyed, all three (three) survivors hidden away in the capital of a people she’d once have termed her worst enemies, relying on the goodwill of an old woman.

Kira, a veteran of hopeless causes, had been in worse spots – but not many.

Whatever Damar’s less… pleasant compatriots had thought, she found no joy in any of it. Not even a flutter of satisfaction at all the irony the situation was positively dripping with. It was enough that it meant that twice now she’d been witness to oppression and destruction on an immense scale – civilisation-ending, one might term it. It was wearing, and wearying, no matter who it happened to.

Would she have cheered for the destruction of Cardassia as little as a handful of years ago? Perhaps, if it would have meant Bajor being left alone. The moral quandary aspect certainly wasn’t something she wanted to be thinking about at the moment.

While the others seemed to still be asleep, Kira lay on her back on one of the thin blankets Mila had provided them, and thumbed almost idly through a list of signals intercepted nearby, identifying potential sabotage targets. There were still things three people with extremely limited resources could do to make themselves useful - or disruptive, depending on your perspective.

Two Jem’Hadar barracks complexes (a hatchery would be better, and far less dangerous). A comms central (they might not have the proper tools available to make it truly worth the risk). Long-term storage warehouses (they needed to maximise short-term effects on the Dominion occupiers, not minimise the chances of Cardassia’s eventual recovery). Weapons manufacturing plants (tempting security gaps during shift changes, but still far too well-guarded for the three of them to take on alone). A power distribution junction (...remote, potentially high-impact, and definitely worth looking into). Kira made a note to ask Garak for any further details he could muster about it.

She should have, perhaps, been saving her strength, getting what rest she could while she could. Restless, that was what she was, even with all her experience and her awareness that so, so much of a resistance fight was simply spent waiting, biding time. With another brief glance around the murky room, she gave up even the pretense of repose, and got up to stretch her legs and pace out her nerves.

Garak was asleep in his corner, or at least pretending to be. Whatever suited his purposes best.

“Commander,” came a low murmur from the other side of the room: Damar, sitting up on his own improvised bed, very much awake. The Starfleet rank still sounded strange to her, but Kira could appreciate the way Damar made sure to respect it from the start, and never allowed himself a slip. “There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about. If you have a moment.”

“Somehow I have both far too much and far too little time these days. What is it?” She asked quietly, stepping closer, though the chances of Garak actually sleeping through whatever their conversation was going to be were negligibly low – as were the chances of him ‘waking up’ before they were done.

“I know it might not make much difference. And I do not ask for your forgiveness, or understanding. But I wanted – no, needed to tell you this. I'm sorry – for what I did to Ziyal.”

Her mood miraculously sank even lower. “For murdering her, you mean,” Kira didn’t even try to hold back the bite, nor had she ever been one for softening any blows.

Damar’s lips twisted. “You are right to call it what it was. Hiding from the truth won’t accomplish anything anymore. I killed her, and I deeply regret it.”

Kira said nothing, and Damar continued. “I’m not asking you for anything, believe me. But I hope… she can become a herald, of sorts. Her presence can live on in our alliance, a spirit of cooperation, and a new dawn for both our peoples.”

It was hardly the first time Damar made her think there could be a future for Cardassia after everything, one of reinvention and coexistence. Even Kira, with her underdeveloped imagination (Jadzia's efforts notwithstanding – ah, there was the stab of that hastily half-handled grief), could let herself imagine it.

Kira nodded, and pursed her mouth. Forgiveness wasn’t something she felt was hers to give, even if she wanted to. Maybe it wasn’t anyone’s.

“Nice speech, Damar,” she said, flatly. Ground out, almost. “It’ll be good for you, to’ve had the practice.” Then, after a moment of consideration of what she was prepared to give: “I hope I'll get to hear you make more of those someday soon. And I hope Cardassia will get to hear them, too.”

It only took another tragically small circle paced before the weight in the room became unbearable. Kira decided to make for their somewhat improvised refresher and what little privacy could be scrounged up – and caught Garak watching her, lying motionless but as alert as ever.

She silently met his eyes, then turned away.

5. 2376

The first day of her long-awaited leave dawned beautiful and clear. It seemed a small thing, to be sure – but perhaps the Prophets, prompted by their Emissary, had had a hand in making it so. No matter the reason, the sun shone on a Bajor that was growing prosperous and whole in ways Kira had feared it wouldn’t ever be again.

The document that had just brought peace to two quadrants of the galaxy was called the Treaty of Bajor. There was talk, increasingly common and growing louder, of reactivating Bajor's suspended Federation membership application, and Kira had been made aware of the validity of her Starfleet field commission and the implications on her future career. The Vedek Assembly would be announcing their choice of the new Kai within the week. The soil beneath her feet was healthy, fertile, fully reclamated and ready for planting. There were now schoolchildren on Bajor who had never lived under the occupation.

And there was Kira, who had helped liberate it, and hadn’t lived on it since.

This was the first time she’d returned to her home planet after the formal end of hostilities with the Dominion, and all that that had entailed. The light of B’hava’el was strong but not harsh – the same sun Kira had spent most of her life under, but that had never hit her more differently than it felt now. B’hava’el, that she had now seen from so much closer and so much further away – had, in a horrifying, memorable incident, helped prevent the destruction of, even. Her! Not just scrappy little Nerys from the Shakaar resistance cell anymore, small enough to slip through narrow passages in the labyrinthine caves of the Dahkur province and gaps in the Cardassian sensor nets alike.

She was Colonel Kira Nerys, commander of Deep Space 9, and, as a dear lost friend had made sure she was aware a while ago, a public figure in her own right. Ah– her own importance was something she would need to confront some other time, perhaps, right after she somehow went head to head with her grief. Ezri had been dropping some suggestions, in her capacity as a counselor, for all of the senior staff and beyond. It would be foolish not to consider her recommendations, both as the commanding officer and as a friend.

Kira was well aware she had lost so much and so many. And she could sit down and catalogue the losses on a PADD, like freighter cargo inventory, but what for? She had gained, too, and lost again, and gained yet more. Like waves and eddies, pulling along a lightship on its way through the stars.

“Prophets help me if I try being a poet, too,” Kira mumbled to herself. Maybe she would take up writing tortured metaphors about the Prophets watching over and guiding ancient Bajoran star sailors on their journey all the way to Cardassia, for better or worse.

A stray breeze toyed with the chain of her earring, carrying the scent of ripening moba fruit, and as she crested the hill, the outline of a house well under construction came into view.

“I'm sorry, what was that?” Kasidy asked from just behind her, Jake right at her side, holding her arm.

“Just thinking aloud. Nothing important. Anyway… where did you want to start?”

Her two companions caught up to her quickly enough. The gasps of surprised joy at the sight of all the progress that had been made on the house were by themselves more than worth the trip planetside.

“Well,” Kasidy began, “we have all the plumbing specifications and details all worked out thanks to the local architect you recommended – thanks again, by the way. I think… the kitchen should be first.”

It was an obvious tribute. A longing and anticipation there, too. Kira's heart ached just a bit stronger then, for a beat or two. She nodded, scrolling down a PADD loaded with floor plans and interior concepts. “I know some people who can help with that, too. Ceramics and pottery artisans, and a few others. I’ve got some favours to call in.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Kasidy started, but didn’t get too far.

“Yes I do, Kas. We’re going to see this through, and we’re going to see it done properly.”

“Only the best for the Emissary?” Jake asked, pointedly. There wasn’t bitterness there, though Kira would have understood it, and perhaps expected it, from a young man longing for the return of his father.

“For a dear friend and his family,” Kira corrected. “But – yes, I’m sure they’ll be happy and honoured to contribute. Now, Julian and Ezri will be down with the next transport, just in time to meet us for dinner in the village. We have a few hours to handle things here, check on the progress so far, make notes – any complaints or requests you might have. Remember, I’m here to make sure they listen to you.”

They started down the path into the almost startlingly green valley, Kira catching herself marvelling along the way at the visibility of all the growth and healing made possible by the hard, dedicated work of so many. Who knew what could be in store for an old civilisation of artists, architects, and philosophers, forced to reinvent itself, and the sometimes tenuous connections to vast stretches of heritage that Kira herself had grasped at in various ways for most of her life, born into struggle and desperate, determined rebellion, like so many others.

Well. Nothing to stop her from trying her hand at poetry, after all.

She felt her lips twist wryly at the private joke – she knew her place and her strengths. And she thought she could say she knew herself, too – precious knowledge, by any accounting. She knew there'd be no rest for her, not really, as long as there was something to be done for Bajor, and for her station, and for her unlikely family, wherever they might end up, scattered among and beyond the stars.

But Kira allowed herself a moment, gazing up in what she imagined might be the direction of the wormhole’s entrance.

#kira nerys #star trek #ds9 #deep space nine #fandom: oath to the prophets #oathkeeper writes things #fanfiction #my fic #this is far from polished but #I'M PROCESSING #bless you angry space wife #always and forever #i'm also gonna tag the #kiradax #though i was using #jadzia x kira #really struggling to properly tag this

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noctisfishing · 4 years ago

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5 Works Tag Game

Rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

[Noct note: This includes headcanons and WIPs too! I hope I’m not spamming too much with fics and end of the year talk but I’d love to see everyone’s favorite creations from this year - even if you have one or two! Let’s celebrate the things that made us happy!! :D

If I tag you, don’t feel obligated to respond <3]

Tagging: @earlgreymon @tangledupblue @digidigi-monmon @patamon-ears @yoroyazu @calamansifresh @digitalworldbound @renchan7 @izzyizumi @ahiddenpath

I would love to read about your 2020 favorites! :D

My Five:

1) Takari Week Day 7: Comfort OR Healing/Taking Care Of

Takari Week was the first Tumblr Week event that I got to be a part of and it was SO MUCH FUN!! I loved all of my responses but this one is my favorite; I’m partial to angst.

2) Knives Out Headcanon

This was another first. Do you guys ever watch something and think ‘imagine the Digidestined in *this* setting��? That happens a lot with me.. and I thought putting them in this movie’s universe was so “out there” but I love those kinds of ideas ;)

3) "I’m never buying IKEA furniture again” (Koukari)

You know how you write a fic and you stop writing at the fluffy part because it was too cute to handle? Yeah, that’s what happened here. And it was amazing to see others feel the same way. XD <3

4) The Princess and the Dragon (Taiora, AU)

THERE WAS SO MUCH TAIORA (surprise, surprise) but I only wanted to choose one work. It was hard ranking my Taiora stuff personally LOL. But I’m going with this one because this one had hints of romance but was more about family love - Yagami siblings and of course, Papa Taichi and his baby girl <3

5) Effervescent Fires (Howl’s Moving Castle)

I hope to write more of this! I’ve been working on a fic about Calcifer. The idea of writing the story through the eyes of a cursed star/exasperated flame being is so fascinating to me. I can’t find the link to where I originally posted my excerpt (it was a few months ago but buried in the depths of Reddit, so I’m just going to post it under a cut. :D

The boy seemed to know this star's fate as he reached his arms up, holding out his palms for it to land. The star could tell as he settled with his gentle sparks leaving the boy's hands unharmed that this boy was no ordinary boy; this boy knew magic, and he could help him live.

The star could also tell that this boy wanted something in return. A contract? The star did not truly understand, but if it meant that he could avoid his fate for much longer, then he was willing to accept.

And so, with the boy’s inhale, the star was devoured and was met with darkness. It was a different kind of a falling, from all of the bright colors to none at all, until he stopped moving. After a moment’s pause, he felt a beat. A slow, steady tempo within him while his flames lit up in a soft blue.

The blue turned into bright orange as he flowed back out into the world and onto the boy’s palms once again. He was no longer a star on his way to the end; he was now a vivacious fire demon, entwined with the boy by the manner of his heart.

No words were spoken between them, but the fire gathered their introduction by contact.

The boy's name was Howl.

And his name: Calcifer.

#takari #taiora #koukari #digimon headcanons #au #noctiswriting #noct musings #5 works tag game

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calumrose · 4 years ago

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Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 7 || C.H

A//N: I feel like I haven’t updated in so long when in reality it’s only been 3 days. I’ve got so many WIPs right now, and I am so excited to post more! So keep an eye out for those! But yes, here is chapter 7 for all you lovely people! Thank you to everyone who has been reading this so far, I really appreciate it!

Word Count: 11.6k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

12 Days Left

The constant honking of traffic, the incoherent chatter of bystanders, and the smell of excess petrol had become comforting to Eloise over the years. It was the natural scent of the city she resided in; the smell always so unbearably strong that it practically embedded itself in the noses of the visitors the city welcomed every day. And as much as Eloise wanted to escape and explore new places, she knew it would be a smell she would miss, even if only a little.

Central Park had only ever been a place she visited with friends, typically because the likes of Paige and Jackson lived in that side of New York, it being quite literally on their doorstep, unlike the rest of them who had to travel in order to visit the well-known location.

“Fancy a trip to the zoo?” Calum’s question caused her eyes to break from the sight of the busker to her left as they entered the park. She looked in the direction of where his eyes fell, looking towards the zoo entrance in all its glory along with the crowded queue that was almost painful to think about.

“Maybe another time,” She chuckled, not really in the mood to stand in a queue for god knows how long and pay a ridiculous price just to look at animals for a few hours, “Why don’t we just find a place to sit and have a conversation like normal people?”

“Normal people?” Calum’s tone held fake surprise, “You mean to tell me that you, Eloise, want to have an actual conversation with me?”

“Shocking stuff I know, now c’mon,” She responded with the same joking attitude, nudging the back of his arm as they continued to walk through the park. It was a sight that never failed to relax her, the greenery and gentle atmosphere being enough to temporarily transport her to a state of believing she had no worries, like she had nothing to be afraid of.

The past week with Calum had been nothing like she had experienced before. It felt good to know she had a safe space other than her own apartment although she had begun to feel unsafe in her own home, fearing that an unwelcome individual would burst through her door at any given moment after discovering her little secret. But in Calum’s home, she felt like she could live, breathe, and embrace every moment that she felt her heartbeat in her chest.

Seven days felt like seven months when they would lay together in his bed, fingers interlaced as she would trace his tattoos that were painted on his brown skin. She’d ask a million questions about them, wanting to know every story behind each individual piece of art that littered his body. She had learnt the story of how the initials on each hand were for his parents, the name on his left forearm was his sister, how the thistle on his bicep was a homage to his Scottish heritage, and how the Roman numerals on his collarbone represented a year that his life changed. There were so many stories he had shared that she felt as though she wouldn’t remember them, but she found herself being able to recall every single one each time her eyes caught sight of the ink.

Late night conversations were full of questions about their pasts, asking about their childhoods and about stupid things they could recall from simpler times. Calum was a lot more open about his own memories than Eloise was, many of her own recollections being forgotten with purpose. She didn’t know if she was ready to dig them all back up just yet, and Calum respected that.

Early morning rises would be filled with the smell of coffee and fruity essences from the yoghurt Calum had added to his shopping list after learning of Eloise’s love for the strawberry flavour. He learnt of her tendencies of waking up in the unsociable hours of the morning, her body clock naturally seeming to have shifted since she started staying at his place on a more regular occasion. Before, she was lucky if she could sleep past 10am, now it was 7am. Calum often woke up and found her in the kitchen, legs crossed as she sat up on the countertop by the window, staring out into the city as the sun rose up, a bowl of yoghurt and chopped fruit in her lap as she enjoyed the peaceful silence of the morning. He never disturbed her when she was in that state, his body just standing in opening of the hallway, dark eyes on her that were filled with nothing but admiration.

He had come to learn that she was very appreciative of the small moments that she got to experience, figuring that a lot of that was due to the great deal of loss she had suffered over the years; wanting to absorb everything she felt as though she took for granted, like the sunrise; a beautiful sight that only a lucky few got a chance to see in all its glory.

An open patch of grass caught Eloise’s attention, her fingers gripping onto the fabric of the sleeve of his empathy hoodie, subtly dragging him along so she could claim the empty space before any other civilian who was found at the park.

“El, babe, slow down,” The nickname fell from Calum’s lips like butter, as if it were always supposed to. He had dropped pet names like those a few times throughout their time together, and she wondered if he truly noticed how often he let them slip. They were natural to him, feeling as though there was no other name that he knew for her other than what he felt suited her so perfectly. Eloise could swear her stomach flipped every time a simple nickname fell from his soft lips, assuring her that she wanted nothing else than to hear them a thousand times over.

“You’re the one who dragged me outside, so we’ll do things at my pace, that’s the deal,” She smirked to herself as she adjusted her jeans slightly before sitting down at the dry grass.

“Since when did I agree to that?” He raised a questioning brow, the slight upturn of his lip’s inkling on a borderline smirk. That smirk would get him in trouble one day, Eloise could sense it.

The sun beat down on the city of New York, speckles of gold seeping through the gaps in the tree branches as it painted the park with strips of yellow. It created a sight that Eloise could only wish she could see every day; the sight of Calum sat there with the sun beating down, the bright rays only bringing out how golden he truly was, as if gold met gold in the moment the sun connected with him.

Brown eyes cascaded over the park around them, Eloise’s gaze settling on a young girl who sat a few metres from them. She watched as the young blonde’s hand worked against the sketchpad in her lap, eyes flickering up to glance at the grand building that towered over the park. Eloise felt her back straighten almost inquisitively, her head tilting slightly to side as if to try and get a better view of the pad.

“What’s she drawing?” Calum asked, leaning back against his hands to keep himself up, eyes watching Eloise’s curiosity get the better of her. He had noted that she was a curious person, always watching what people were doing, always noticing people who were so submerged in their own world, especially those of the artistic mind. She seemed to have an eye for it.

Eloise watched as the pencil in her hand glided along the paper, imagining she could hear the soft strokes of graphite against the white paper as if she were sitting right next to her. She had a lot of respect for art, it always blowing her mind how someone could create something so beautiful with their own hands. She let her brown eyes look back to Calum, noticing how his eyes were sat on her own, admiring the interest she had shown in the stranger’s talent, before she responded with a smile, “I think she’s drawing the top of The Plaza, because if you look just over there,” She pointed in the direction of where the girl had been looking, “You can see the top of the hotel over the trees.”

“You seem to notice a lot of artistic people in the city for someone who doesn’t hold an artistic bone in her body,” Calum chuckled, remembering how they had discussed previously Eloise’s admiration for art but never having the ability to create any herself. He pulled his arm close to his chest in attempt to avoid her hand as it tried to smack him, his nose scrunching just a little as the smile on his face grew. “Did you ever have any hobbies when you were a teenager? Or anything that stuck and grew into a passion?”

Eloise shook her head, wrapping an arm around her right knee as it bent so she could keep it close to her chest as she responded, “I was that kid who always tried to find a hobby but gave up within a few minutes because it wasn’t as straight forward as I wanted it to be, and I also had zero patience.” Her free hand reached up to pull down the sunglasses that were resting on her head, setting them against the bridge of her nose so they shielded her eyes from the sun as the bright glare shifted direction in the sky.

“Ah, so you were one of those kids,” Calum spoke as if it all suddenly made sense, resulting in another playful smack against his arm from Eloise. She had definitely met her match when it came to teasing people, “And yet there’s still so much for me to learn,”

“About?” Eloise quirked a brow, reaching around her back to pull down the back of her shirt, the cool breeze against her spine signalling that the shirt had begun to ride up.

“You,” Calum sat upright, reaching down between his legs as he plucked a few blades of grass from the ground, eyes watching his hands before he reconnected them with Eloise’s own dark ones, “I’ve got an idea; quick-fire quiz with random questions about you, you have one pass and you’ve got to answer everything, got it?”

“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret agreeing to this stupid game?” A playful roll of her eyes were given as she shifted her body weight, turning to her left so she could face him head on, “Right, go ahead then if you must.”

Calum parted his lips slightly as he looked up in thought. He hadn’t even considered making up any questions to ask, not quite expecting her to give in that easily. Who was he kidding? She gave into almost anything he asked, he knew that, so he should have been more prepared. The hamster wheel in his brain seemed to run for a few seconds before a thought came into his head. Thank god for that.

“First question, your favourite subject in school?” He raised an eyebrow, throwing a finger in her direction as he pointed at her, awaiting her answer.

Eloise pursed her lips as she thought for a moment. Come on El, this whole point of quick-fire questions is that it’s supposed to be quick. She tapped her fingers against her thigh for a few seconds before giving an unsure answer of, “I’d probably say English even though I was awful at it, Maths was more of my strong suit but I wouldn’t say I loved it,” She threw a shrug of her shoulders at Calum, “Next question.”

“Favourite colour?”

“Easy, it’s probably red.”

“I have never seen you wear the colour red,” Calum commented, his teeth brushing against his bottom lip as he highlighted the third word, “You barely wear anything other than black or grey, babe. So, for that reason I am calling bullshit.”

“And how would you know? What if I’m wearing red underwear?” Eloise couldn’t stop teasing smirk, a coy pout playing on her lips as she saw his eyebrows raise at her remark. She knew that he was fully aware of what colour her underwear was, as he was the one who had enjoyed the task of removing it from her hands before she had the chance to get dressed this morning, before pulling her into the bathroom for a morning of strenuous activities.

She swore she could see the events of their morning playing in his mind, watching as his jaw worked while her comment echoed in his ears. She loved watching how flustered he got in moments like that; moments where a certain tone, or a sudden string of words had him silenced.

“Favourite artist?” His voice sounded raspy; he hadn’t cleared his throat before he spoke. Eloise’s tongue poked the inside of her cheek, noting how he tried to brush over what she had said, fighting the urge to poke fun at the avoidance, knowing full well that what she had said had taken its effect on him.

“Oh that’s a tough choice,” She pursed her lips, a little smug due to knowing what he focusing on right then, she swore she could hear the little voice in his head as it shouted at him to think of something else, “It’s got to be either Mayday Parade or The Maine.”

“Good choice,” He nodded, coughing into his fist as a way of attempting to rid the scratch in his throat. Calum could barely hold himself together and Eloise knew what hold she had over him.

Both knees were pulled to Eloise’s chest, her arms resting on top before she placed her chin down to settle against her forearms, brown eyes looking up at the handsome man she found herself with. She always thought about what they were, if they had a specific title for what they had going on. Did she even want to put a label on what they had? Was there a point in labelling it? It was still something she was trying to figure out; how quickly she felt so normal with Calum, how suddenly everything just seemed like it fit into place as if it had always been that way.

Calum and Eloise had talked briefly about what they were. Calum never rushed her into deciding what she wanted, assuring that he would go with what she felt comfortable with and what she felt ready for. Calum knew he wanted no one else, only having eyes for the girl who had his heart in her hands. He felt vulnerable around her, as if she could shatter his heart within seconds. And unfortunately, there was truth in that concern, as was there with Eloise’s matching one in regard to him. They both held such a strong connection that could be turned and used against them in the press of a button.

The only thing Eloise was sure of was that Calum was everything she had been looking for without even knowing it. He was all she could have wanted in someone; gentle, caring, understanding, forgiving, and so much more that she couldn’t put into words. She had admitted that to him a few mornings ago when they were lying in his bed together, limbs tangled within the sheets, her fingers combing through his hair as they stared at one another. Calum voiced his understanding over her concern for how she felt, suggesting they just say that they’re exclusive with one another, keeping it private, but known to each other that there was no one else in the picture, only the two of them who had eyes for the other.

The little pet names seemed to fall into habit rather quickly after that conversation, the next morning being the first time Calum dropped one in the moment, yawning before he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek before climbing out of the entangled sheets to make his way into the bathroom to get himself ready for work. Eloise had let it slide at first, assuming it was just a slip of the tongue, but then they grew to be more regular, and she couldn’t deny that they didn’t not get her heart going.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Calum spoke up after a few minutes, “My ass is getting numb sitting here.” Eloise looked up to find him standing already, hand reached out for her to grab onto.

“We’ve been sitting for barely twenty minutes and you’re already complaining,” She scoffed, a gently chuckle being sounded as she reached up and grabbed onto his hand. She couldn’t hold back the soft grunt she let out as she let him pull her to her feet, focusing on the warmth of his hand that held onto hers. She noted how he didn’t let go, adjusting his fingers so they slipped in between her own, his hand practically enveloping hers in warmth as they moved back onto the path that led through Central Park.

Calum’s hand was so much larger than hers, she couldn’t help but notice the difference every time he held her hand, the size almost laughable. Eloise cursed at herself at the way butterflies erupted in her stomach at his touch, the smooth skin of his palm against hers being enough to make her feel like she was walking on sunshine. It was almost sickening how much she had grown to love the feeling of his skin on hers in more ways than one.

“What time’s your shift tomorrow?” Eloise spoke softly as they walked, eyes glancing down at their hands swinging gently between their bodies meanwhile their feet walked at different times, her long legs surprisingly unable to keep up with his timely long strides. For a taller girl, she could never walk quickly, not with Calum anyway.

“I start at eight tomorrow,” He responded, eyes catching the small family picnic that was going on just to their right, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought of that possibility in his future. He had always been a family man, it only setting him up to be ready to eventually have one of his own with someone he loved, someone he could settle down and have a life with. “So, I was thinking, I’d give you a lift home tomorrow morning before I go to work if you need to grab some clean clothes and stuff, and then I could pick you up once I’m finished, take you back to my place and we could do something,”

Eloise’s eyes followed in the direction of where he had turned his head briefly, eyes falling on the young couple who sat with a child, he looked to be around four, as they laughed and smiled together. The open picnic basket was self-explanatory to Eloise, causing a cold shiver to run up her spine at the inkling of a memory she didn’t even know existed. She pulled her attention back up to Calum, hoping he didn’t notice her subtle shudder. “I was thinking I might stay at my place tonight for a change, my neighbours are gonna start being suspicious if they don’t hear me stumbling up my stairs at the crack of dawn soon,” She chuckled, squeezing his hand reassuringly, “It also means Duke can actually get some space in the bed for first time in a while, but I’ll come and see you tomorrow after your shift,”

“Duke’s gonna be upset that you’re leaving him in the house alone,” Calum pointed out, “I think he’s gotten quite fond of you sticking around during the day while I’m workin’, means he’s not on his own all day.” Eloise knew what he was doing; trying to subtly use Duke as a way of persuading – guilt tripping – her into staying at his place for another night. But Eloise knew she had to play this right, she had to go home at some point, she would have to submit herself to the clutches of the Gypsy Kings once again soon enough.

“And you can tell him that I’m very sorry but I have to,” She pouted her lips, leaning into Calum a little as they walked, “Or to make it up to him, I’ll make sure I bring a treat with me when I come back.”

“So, you’re going to bribe my dog?” He furrowed his brows down at her, glaring playfully at the brunette. Eloise puffed her cheeks briefly, eyes shifting out of Calum’s gaze as she focused on the floor for a second.

“Well, it’s the only way I can make sure that he’ll forgive me when I come back,”

“And what about me?” Calum tugged on her hand and pulled her to a stop, moving them out of the way on the path so they weren’t in anyone’s way. His eyebrows raised questioningly, a knowing smirk on his face as his spare hand found her waist, slipping beneath her jacket so he could feel the fabric of her oversized t-shirt beneath his fingers, voice barely above a gravelled whisper when he spoke, “How’re you gonna make sure that I forgive you for leaving me?”

“I’m sure a grown man like yourself can work out a few ways I can ask for your forgiveness,” She winked, giggling softly at the expression that sank onto Calum’s face, his head falling onto her shoulder as he let out a barely audible groan, although it was loud and clear in Eloise’s ears.

“I swear for the love of god,” Calum groaned out, grip tightening around Eloise’s waist as the hand that held hers awkwardly bent as he attempted to raise it. Eloise’s giggle echoed in his ears, the sound highlighting her awareness of how her words had affected him in public yet again. He was weak when it came to that girl, and it was as if she knew exactly how to play to his weakness, using it against him in a poorly timed place. “You’re cruel, and the fact that you’re not even coming back to my place tonight only proves my point,”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to amuse yourself without me,” She whispered, leaning her head so it rested against his on her shoulder, a soft smile creasing her lips as she stood like that for a minute. She wished she could pause time right there and take a picture from someone else’s point of view, to see them together. She tilted her head slightly, pressing a feather like kiss to the side of his head before she softly spoke, “Now c’mon, I’ll buy you a- Scott?”

Calum’s head shot up at her words, forehead creased as his brows furrowed, “You’ll buy me a Scott?”

Eloise didn’t even register his response, eyes looking over in the distance to where a scattering of people walked through the park. Her dark eyes spotted the familiar man in the distance, able to pick out his soft curls from anywhere as well as his particular walk.

“Wait here,” She told Calum, softly releasing his hand from hers and before she could even hear him respond she was running down the path towards the familiar body who had his back to her.

Calum stood there in place, watching as Eloise’s figure shrunk as she ran further into the distance, arms crossing against his chest as he moved along the path a little bit and found a tree to lean against. He pulled out his phone, trying to occupy himself as he waited for Eloise to come back, eyes shifting every few seconds between the screen in his hand to the pretty brunette as she attempted to catch up to her friend. He couldn’t help but feel protective, wanting to make sure she was alright at all times.

Eloise felt her chest get heavy as she ran down the path, a few eyes watching her as she ran past numerous runners; their eyes obviously judging her choice of attire for what they most likely assumed to be an afternoon run. Her eyes closed in on the familiar golden locks of her best friend, his leather jacket shining against the sun.

She reached her hand out as she caught up with him, panting lightly as she called out, “Oi Erikson, do I not even get a hello anymore?” Scott’s expression seemed almost dumbfounded when he turned around, his face relaxing when he registered her voice and saw the one and only Eloise stood behind him, hands resting on the caps of her knees as she caught her breath, bending slightly as she felt her heart hammer faintly against her chest before she could bring herself to stand upright, breath returning to normal after a few seconds passed.

“You’re seriously out of shape,” Scott scoffed, laughing at his best friend’s poor attempt at hiding her heavy breaths as she stood up. Eloise reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly, sending him a warning glare as she straightened up, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, and stood comfortably.

“Shut up, I’m in better shape than most of that lot,” She laughed, jutting her chin out in the direction of the park, directing her comment towards the others within the gang. Both of them knew which members she was silently talking about, a joint laugh escaping them both at the inside knowledge. “What’re you doing here anyway, last time I checked Central Park is a bit far out of Brooklyn, especially for the likes of you, Scott?”

Scott chuckled at her comment, almost nervously, as he raised his shoulders in a half-shrug, “Suppose I could say the same for you, you’re a bit far out of Brooklyn yourself,” Eloise couldn’t help but notice how his eyes were shifting, as if he were searching for someone or keeping an eye out. He seemed antsy, not an unusual occurrence when it came to Scott being this far out Brooklyn. “How’ve you been anyway? How’re things comin’ along with your cop friend?”

Eloise let out a quiet sigh, shifting her weight to her other foot as she answered, “I should be asking you how you are, you’ve hardly answered your phone and you seem to be ignoring my texts. Am I too lame to talk to now?” She scoffs jokingly at him, chewing the inside of her cheek as she continues, “I’m working on him, I’ve got some information that’ll be useful for Jay to know. I’ve also set up a few decoy details for him to take back to his precinct, so give me a few more days and we’ll be ready to go,”

Scott nods, taking in the words that Eloise had practically spoon fed him. She prayed he couldn’t see through it, praying that for a man she believed to know her so well, that he couldn’t see right through the lies she had just fed to him. She knew he would take her words back to Jay, informing him of the ‘work’ she had done. Scott’s eyes travelled behind Eloise, she had noticed he had done that a few times already, wondering what he was looking at.

“Take it, that’s him?” He jutted out his chin in the direction of the park behind her, eyes finding the dark ones of Calum who kept his gaze firmly planted on Eloise’s back, “Either that’s your copper or some big creepy dude has been staring at your ass for the past five minutes, and my money is the former.”

Eloise rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she glanced behind her, brown eyes finding Calum’s. She smiled softly at him, offering him a small wave as a silent act of reassurance that she was alright. She noted how his shoulders seemed to relax a little at her action, the muscles sinking as his eyes never left her, “Yeah, that’s Calum.”

“So, you gonna let me meet the guy who you’ve been spending all of your time with or are you going to keep me in suspense?” Scott raised an eyebrow, lips parting briefly as he glanced in Calum’s direction. Eloise thanked the sun for her helping her hide her flushed cheeks, making her cheeks and nose almost rosy at the thought of Calum and Scott meeting, the thought making her feel like someone had just dropped a lead weight in her stomach. Eloise couldn’t help but feel as though she was in a catch 22; stuck between her best friend who believed she was acting one way, and Calum who knew her to be acting in the opposite.

But that didn’t stop her from nodding, feeling Scott’s arm slip around her shoulders as they began to make their way to where Calum stood. “Be nice,” Eloise warned through gritted teeth as they closed in on the tree that Calum stood under. The air felt as though it thickened with the closer that they got, Eloise’s chest tightening as she tried to fight the feeling of anxiety that she could feel bubbling up inside of her.

Calum straightened up, sliding his phone back into the pocket of his jeans and walked over and met them halfway, a friendly smile on his face as he met Eloise’s uneasy eyes, noting how uncomfortable she must have been at the thought of Calum meeting her brother by association.

Eloise forced the discomfort in her stomach down, trying to ignore it as she stood with Scott by her side, arm still around her shoulders as he looked towards Calum, a rather unimpressed look on his face. She let out a small cough, clearing her throat, as she introduced them, “Scott, this is Calum, Calum, this is my best friend Scott,” She felt as though she wanted the world to swallow her whole as she felt Scott’s grip tighten ever so slightly around her, a natural tension he had around those he didn’t know and didn’t trust.

“It’s nice to meet you, mate,” Calum sent him a gentle singular nod of his head, a warm smile on his face as he reached out his hand for Scott to shake, “El’s told me a lot about you, you sound like a very important man.”

Eloise sent him a glance, silently thanking him for trying to play it cool, for being nice towards Scott even though the reaction he was receiving from the blond was anything but. Her eyes fell to Scott, sending a subtle kick to the back of his ankle as if to silently say, ‘Just shake his hand.’

Scott sighed as he reached out his hand, grasping Calum’s in his grip as they shook, a dry laugh coming from his throat as he tried not to roll his eyes. “That’s quite a strong grip you’ve got there,” Eloise couldn’t help it as she rolled her eyes at Scott’s remark, silently praying he would drop the act and just be like the Scott she knew, that he would act like her best friend.

“Comes with the territory.” The response was quick to come from Calum, it being instant much like the forced smile on his lips. Eloise knew he would be silently making his job known to Scott, even though he wasn’t trying to rupture Scott, she couldn’t help but want to move things along, trying to cut the interaction as short as possible to spare any unnecessary tension.

It’s not like there wasn’t plenty of it already.

“I was gonna suggest to Calum that we go and grab a hot dog if you wanted to join us?” Eloise offered, head nodding towards the exit of the park, the memory of the brightly coloured food cart outside the gates making her mouth water at the thought. “It’ll be my treat.”

Scott shook his head practically as soon as Eloise let the words slip from her mouth, hand coming up and shaking alongside his head, “I can’t stay long, I’ve got somewhere to be. I just wanted to come by and say hi,”

The awkward silence is almost painful. Cursing herself, Eloise wished she never agreed to letting Scott come over. She wished she had just said something along of the lines of how she’d rather keep them separate to save questions but of course she didn’t think this through. Nice one, Eloise.

She was about to open her mouth to speak, her brain scrambling as it attempted to create a sentence for her to use in order to break the silence before Calum beat her to it.

“So, how long have you known Eloise?” Calum asked, adjusting his stance as an attempt to be perceived as more friendly, trying to cut the clear tension that clouded them, hand resting over the outline of his phone in his pocket.

Eloise didn’t need to see the shift in Scott’s eyes as they fell to her, she could feel the burn in the side of her head along with the way his arm moved, it dropping from around her and returning back to his side, hand sliding back into its home inside his pocket. Eloise wanted to curse herself, knowing she should’ve warned Calum about one thing, but of course she didn’t think. She could only hope this helped her out, that Scott took it as a sign that things were working, that she was invested in the way she needed them to believe, that she was capturing Calum’s attention like they had intended. She just hoped that it wasn’t seen for what it really was.

She needed to slow down; she knew that she was getting too far ahead of herself. Scott was smart, but he wasn’t that smart.

“Too long,” Her voice muttered, a gentle smirk playing her lips as she glanced at Scott, playfully nudging him with her hip to try and go along with the friendly interaction.

“Uh yeah, we’ve been best mates since we were kids. The both of us went through some rough stuff growing up and we’ve stuck together ever since,” Scott nodded, throwing a casual shrug of shoulders into the mix with his response, “I just can’t seem to shake her off.”

“Fuck off,” Eloise laughed, raising a knowing brow, “You’d be lost with me or dead even. I have saved your life more times than you can count.”

It was true. There was more truth in that statement than what Scott wanted to admit. Eloise had helped him out a lot throughout their time together; throughout school, starting off in the gang, and just about every other occasion where things didn’t go to plan for the blond boy.

Eloise had been the one to help him talk his way out of situations he found himself in when he thought he was clever. She had also been the one to cover for him when he would get himself into messes and need a friend to pull him out. Eloise had always been there for him over the years and he couldn’t deny that.

Scott shot her a warning glance before letting a small laugh laced with nostalgia leave him, unable to hide the truth in the statement, “I was a bit of a klutz back in the day, and this one here helped me out a lot. I guess you could say I never quite understood what public embarrassment truly meant,”

“A klutz with a big mouth and shocking taste in women,” Eloise couldn’t stop the mutter before it was too late, eyes watching as Scott scoffed at her and he amusingly jabbed her with his elbow.

“On that note, I’m gonna take my leave,” Scott excused himself, taking a step back as he attempted to extract himself from the gathering rather quickly, “It was nice to meet you, Calum. Suppose I might see you ‘round if she keeps you for longer than usual,” A dry laugh escaped him as he made the remark, eyes catching Eloise’s glaring ones.

Eloise shook her head, the nod barely noticeable as she clenched her jaw and grit her teeth, a warning glare being shot at Scott, “I was gonna ask if you wanted to come by my place tonight and we could hang out, but just for that you can fuck off,” She sighed, raising her hand as she threw a middle finger in his direction.

Scott hummed, knowing she would still want him to come by her apartment. She never didn’t want him to come over when she had offered. “I’ve got plans tonight, some business I need to take care of for work. How about tomorrow night instead? I’ll call you when I’m on my way,”

Eloise sent Scott a nod, “Sure, see you tomorrow then,”

Eventually they bid Scott a goodbye, watching as his silhouette disappeared into the distance, vanishing out of the park as it merged into the crowds that were usually thought of when it came to New York. Eloise released a relieved sigh, the departure of her best friend making her feel as though she could breathe again, feeling the tension deplete with the great distance between them that grew as he was out of sight.

She turned in place, catching Calum’s eyes watching as she seemed to relax. God, she felt horrible for making him suffer through that. Scott wasn’t usually so… not Scott. She swore he was a nice guy but this just highlighted the arrogance that she tried to ignore every day, almost if she forced herself to be blinded to it, not wanting to believe he had it in him to act like that.

“I’m really sorry about him, he’s not usually like that,” Eloise apologised, figuring she owed Calum some form of an explanation as to why she shot off earlier without a second thought, “Scott’s been giving me the silent treatment for the past few days and I didn’t know why; he was avoiding my calls and ignoring my texts and it was bugging me because we used to never go a single day without talking to one another,” She was rambling now, “So when I saw him, I guessed it was a perfect opportunity to ask him about it and then he spotted you staring, asked if he could come and say hi, then he- “

“Eloise, it’s alright,” Calum cut her off with a laugh, stopping her in the middle of a ramble that not even she knew how long it would continue for, his hands placing themselves on her shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly, “He’s your friend, you’re allowed to go and speak to him,”

“Something’s not right with him though,” She sighed, feeling rather defeated, “He’s not himself and I can’t tell what it is. It’s almost like he’s changing, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“You can’t do anything,” Calum told her, slipping a comforting arm around her shoulder as they turned and began to make their way through the park, heading towards the exit, walking the opposite direction to where Scott had departed, “It’s probably whatever Jay’s planning just getting to his head. It’s a big scheme and a lot is on the line for them,”

“Thanks for reminding me,” She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily as they walked.

The colours of the food cart soon came into sight, Eloise’s stomach practically growling at the thought of some food. The two of them made their way over to the queue, standing in line and began to wait.

“Scott’ll be meeting with some the guys tonight,” She spoke out, “That’s what he meant by ‘work’, so he’ll be filling them in on our little run-in today,”

“And that’s a good thing, right?” Calum sent a questioning look.

“I think so, it’ll make them think that their plan is working,” She nodded, silently trying to convince herself of her uncertain response, “The fact that you called me Eloise will go a long way in convincing them, it’ll make them see that I’ve ‘wormed’ my way in,” She raised her fingers to use as quotation marks at the word wormed.

The confusion is Calum’s face couldn’t be missed, the crease in his forehead and furrow of his brows only solidifying the questioning look he continued to give her, “How is me calling you by your name helping?”

Eloise sighed, knowing she would need to explain. She cleared her throat as she looked ahead of the line, making a note of the few people in front of them that were still waiting to be served.

“Back when I lost my dad, it was quite hard to hear my name. People had been calling me ‘El’ for a while since I was a kid, but my parents almost always called me Eloise, and when I didn’t have them around anymore, my name just reminded me of them and how much I was hurting,” She explained, sighing as she threw a hand in her pocket, feeling Calum’s arm drop from her shoulder as it found her free one, his fingers lightly grasping hers as an attempt to comfort her, “So I started telling people to just call me ‘El’ so it felt like I wasn’t me, so I could pretend like it didn’t happen,”

Calum just nodded, brushing her knuckles with his thumb as he listened. Every time she mentioned her parents, he couldn’t stop his heart from hurting, almost as if he was feeling her own pain when she spoke of them.

“But certain people still call me by my full name, but it became sort of public knowledge with those I associated myself with that only certain people got to call me Eloise; like Scott, Han, my friends: Paige, Roman, and the rest of that group. And now you,” She smiled up at him, squeezing his hand as they took a step forward in the queue, “So, since Scott heard you use my full name, it’s gonna intentionally take this whole thing a lot further, almost securing their perception of what it is that they think I’m doing,”

The mention of Paige and Roman reminded Eloise that she still needed to introduce Calum to them, thinking of the endless stream of text messages she had received from Paige with requests of organising a double date ever since she found out about Eloise and Calum’s mutual agreement of being ‘secretly exclusive’.

She had tried to fight with the idea of Calum meeting her friends, trying to convince herself that it was a bad idea as it just made what they had feel even more real; like it was going last and they were going to be going places after the deal was done. Eloise wasn’t sure if she could bring herself to ignore the harsh reality and let herself fall into the self-made trap of pretending that she lived in a world where she and Calum would walk away from this with no repercussions, where they would be able to live as a normal couple.

Calum was about to speak, a voice laced with a thick accent stopping him as it called out, “Next! ‘iya sweetheart, what can I get ya?”

Eloise’s eyes turned to meet the rather large man in front of them, face a little red and shining an almighty mole in the right side of his chin. He smelled like hot dogs; Eloise noted. Although she wasn’t sure if it were him or the fact that they were at a hot dog stand, but she could be sure that the smell was rather overpowering.

They gave him their orders, standing next to one another as they waited for him to prepare the carb loaded items. Calum’s hand never dropped hers, his fingers finding the spaces between hers before slipping into them, her hand fitting in his like a glove. He felt the need to always be touching her, feeling an uneasy sensation settle in his gut if he was around her and didn’t have his skin touching hers in some way. It wasn’t like Eloise minded; she embraced any physical connection she could get with Calum when she could, silently reminding herself that it most likely wasn’t going to last forever.

Hotdogs in hand, they made their way down the streets of New York, the steam from the slabs of meat in their breaded buns travelling up into the air as they walked together.

“So, you don’t mind that I call you Eloise?” Calum’s question could only just be heard over the sound of a yellow taxi honking it’s horn next to where they waited to cross the street, “I can call you El if that- “

Eloise slapped his shoulder gently, holding her finger up as she silently asked him to wait while she chewed the bite of her hotdog she had just taken. Once swallowed, she smiled at him, wiping the slaver of grease she swore she felt just below her lip with edge of her palm, before she said, “I actually prefer it when you call me Eloise, it sounds better coming from you unlike some people.”

“Good,” Calum speaks through a mouthful of hotdog, hand coming up to cover the sight of half-chewed food, “I like saying your name; it’s pretty, much like the girl it belongs to.”

Eloise couldn’t stop herself from faking a gag, laughing at Calum as she rolled her eyes, amused, “Do you have an off switch, or do you just permanently ruin moments with cheesy lines?”

Calum playfully nudged her as they turned a corner, careful not to knock her into anyone as he leaned over and pressed a quick chaste kiss to her cheek once he had freed his mouth of the remnants of his snack, “Only speaking the truth, doll,”

“Security!” Eloise jokingly calls out, “Can someone please come and remove Mr Smooth from my presence?” She’s unable to stop her laugh as Calum’s hand reaches out, attempting to nip at her sides, “Get off!” She squealed, trying to push his hand away, quickly apologising to the bystander who she accidently bumped into in her attempt to move out Calum’s reach.

Let’s just say that Calum got a friendly smack on the back of the head for that one.

They eventually discovered a bin to discard of their wrappers, tossing them away before they continued their walk back to where Calum had parked his car just a few blocks south of Central Park. The sun continued to shine down on New York, a gentle cooling breeze warranting through the city, adding a refreshing chill to contrast against the heat. They walked down the streets side by side, Calum’s arm draped over her shoulders, meanwhile Eloise’s wound its way around his waist, hips lightly brushing against one another, her small fingers gently gripping onto the fabric of his hoodie as an attempt to keep close to him, head resting on his shoulder as they walked through the city.

“You want me to drop you off at your place?” Calum asked, arm around her shoulders, fingers lightly brushing against the cool material of her jacket, “Or can I convince you to stay at my place for another night?”

Eloise shook her head, her stomach vibrating with her silent closed-mouthed laugh, “I need to go back to my place like I told you. I need time to think about what I’m gonna say to Scott tomorrow,”

“What do you mean?”

“I need to talk to him about some stuff; nothing about the plan or the shipment, nothing to do with the gang whatsoever,” She sighed as they stopped in front of Calum’s car, her arm dropping from around his waist as her back rested against the hood of the black vehicle, Calum’s arm being removed her shoulder as he moved to stand in front of her, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and taking her hand in his for what felt like the hundredth time that day, “I want to talk to him as friends, as the best friends that we’re supposed to be. I’m worried about him because he used to talk to me about everything and I did the same with him when my life fell apart, but now it feels like we’re more strangers than best friends,”

Calum sent her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently as he reached into his pocket to find his car keys, sending her an assured, “I’m sure he’ll be okay, Eloise.”

“He’s going to hate me when this is over.” Eloise couldn’t stop the tears brimming in her eyes, her throat quivering at the thought of how this was going to affect Scott; the guilt of it seeming as though it would eat her alive.

Calum shook his head, more to himself than to her, raising his hands to her face, cupping her cheeks, his thumbs gently gliding across the apples of her sweet skin as he said, “Let him. Eloise, if he’s really your best friend then he’ll realise why you’ve done this and he’ll forgive you,”

“And what if he never does?” She asked painfully, her voice sounding almost as defeated as she felt.

“Then he clearly isn’t the kind of man you want to believe he is,” Calum spoke truthfully, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, holding his lips there for a few seconds before he took a small step back, opening the car for them to get in, “C’mon, we’ll get ice cream on our way back to your place, my treat,”

“Thank you, Calum,” She smiled, wiping away the packed tears before they had a chance to fall, taking in a deep shaky breath as she attempted to pull herself together, “For everything,”

“Anything for you, Eloise,” He whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder she would float away with the light breeze, gently reaching down and reconnecting their hands, lifting hers to his lips as he placed a soft kiss to her knuckles, “Absolutely anything.”

*****

11 Days Left

Eloise felt as though she was suffocating, the air around her thick with tension as she watched Scott from the corner of her eye. He had arrived just less than an hour ago, walking in with a pizza in his hand, claiming to be splashing the cash as an early celebration for her hard work.

Every time she looked at Scott, she was reminded of the lies she was living, the lies she was trapping him with, and the guilt was eating her alive, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him. As much as her natural instinct would be to warn him of an upcoming ambush, she knew this time it had gone too far, and she couldn’t save him like she so desperately wanted to.

“I had a dream last night,” Eloise spoke quietly, almost sounding as if she was talking to herself, head leaning back as her eyes met with the ceiling briefly, “We were kids again, we must have been six or seven, and we were sitting in a field, just the two of us,” The corners of her mouth upturned, her teeth gently nipping on the inside of her lip, her voice continuing, “I was freaking out, panicking about what we were doing and you kept telling me to calm down, assuring me that we would be alright, you said that you’d make sure they would take care of us,”

Scott’s eyes caught Eloise’s as she looked in his direction, her back resting against the armrest of the couch, “Who were ‘they’?” Scott queried; eyebrows furrowed in question.

“I’ve got no idea,” She said with a breathy chuckle, shaking her head lightly as she reached forward to close over the empty pizza box that lay spread out on the coffee table, the cold stench of tomato and cheese making Eloise feel slightly queasy, before she added, “A monster? Or maybe someone we knew?”

“There’s plenty of monsters around this city,” Scott’s voice almost went unheard, the comment barely audible over the low volume of the TV. But fortunately for Eloise, she heard it loud and clear.

Scott’s words held a lot of truth in them; more truth than most would like to admit, the truth that fell deaf at many people’s ears. They had always been told as kids that monsters weren’t real, that they were figments of their own imaginations, a simple phase they would grow out of. But Eloise never grew out of it, her eyes finding them everywhere she turned. And now, to her own terror, she waited for her best friend to take that final form.

“Can I ask you something?” Eloise rolled her lips into her mouth, taking Scott’s hum as a response, taking a small breath before she continued, hoping he wouldn’t mind her bringing up past events, “Have you spoken to Seth recently? It’s just that you’ve been quiet the past few days, and I know what yesterday was, and I also know he usually crawls out of his hole around this time of year, so I just wanted to- “

“He’s not reached out to me if that’s what you’re wondering,” Scott pursed his lips, shaking his head slowly as he stared straight ahead at the scene playing on the TV screen. It wasn’t until earlier that day that Eloise had pieced together why Scott had been so distant lately, cursing herself for nearly forgetting what had happened all those years ago.

How could she nearly forget? She had a reminder of what happened on that day nearly four years ago permanently etched on her leg; the scar on her thigh never having properly healed, the textured skin serving as a reminder to not only her, but to Scott about what happened that day. And it was all down to a stupid idea made by him and someone he thought to be his friend.

They were 17; young, juvenile, and eager.

They all wanted to be recognised as key members of the Gypsy Kings; fed up and tired of being treated like the kids they didn’t believe themselves to be. They wanted to establish to the older men of the gang that they were ready to take their places in their society.

Eloise, Scott, Ben, Seth, and Gabriel had all piled themselves in Seth’s car one night, driving into the southside of Brooklyn, heading for Wiley’s mattress factory after hearing rumours of illegal liquor being stored in the basement. Scott and Seth had been talking to snitches across the city, pretending to be working for the higher members of the gang to retrieve information on any activity they could attempt to ransack. And boy, when they heard about the Moonshine, it was like they had just woken up on Christmas Day.

They had planned to sneak into the factory, having worked out their entry route as well as their exact strategy: fill a few bags with some bottles of the Moonshine, sell it off to clients that Ben had sniffed out with Eloise’s help, and prove themselves to those who doubted them.

But they had one flaw in their plan; they didn’t take into consideration that there would be any security. Their inexperienced minds had assumed that the factory would be empty, as if they could walk straight in and straight out with bags full of the strong liquor without any struggle. As genius as they thought their plan was, it was only proven to be the complete opposite from the minute they got inside that factory.

Their venture into the factory had gone smoothly, remaining undetected as they snuck into the basement, discovering the underground distillery along with the crates packed with bottles and jars of the spirit. They thought had hit the jackpot, obnoxiously throwing high-fives around as they crammed as much Moonshine into their bags as they could fit and still be able to carry.

Seth was smugger than any of them, claiming that he knew they’d win big with his idea to break into the factory, although they all knew it was him and Scott combined who discovered the rumours of the illegal distillery. Seth was the reason why it all went wrong, getting too ahead of himself and getting too excited, his voice was too loud in the quiet building, and no matter how many times they all told him to be quiet, he didn’t listen.

They had managed to sneak back up into the main foyer of the factory, spotting the door they had entered through, the heavy panel still open ajar so the glint of orange from the streetlamp outside could be seen in the distance. Ben had sent everyone out in front of him, his natural polite nature being what got him killed.

No – them being there is what got Ben killed.

They were nearly out of the factory, Scott’s hands just centimetres from the door before a shout broke their attention, eyes darting across the room to see a tall, thin, wrinkly man pacing towards them, gun in hand with their young bodies as targets. Ben had pushed Eloise forward, telling them to run, but it was too late for him.

Scott thrust the door open and practically threw himself out of it, feet moving out of the doorway as Seth followed hot on his tail, but Eloise had remained frozen in place as she watched Ben’s body fall to the ground as the sound of a gunshot echoed within the factory. Her eyes burned into the hole that branded itself into his back, the dark crimson colour painting his back almost unnoticeable due to the lack of light in the room.

Eloise could still make out Wiley’s eyes in the darkness, she swore she could see red in his irises as nothing, but rage and pure animalistic tendencies coursed through them. Scott had shouted for Eloise to run but she couldn’t hear him, the murderous gunshot echoing in her ears as her eyes became scarred with the sight of the body of the young boy who she had grown fond of.

She hadn’t realised she was moving until Scott grabbed her hand, almost ripping her arm out of the socket as he hauled her out of the building, a second gunshot being heard before a piercing yell from Eloise as her hand reached down for her leg as she tried to run. The pain of the piercing bullet in her thigh was nothing like she had ever felt before, it momentarily distracting her from the death she had just witnessed.

Scott had ended up carrying her back to Seth’s car, her mind not even registering Gabriel who had taken Scott’s place in the front seat as Seth started the car and raced back to their hideout, breaking every red light and stop sign that he came across in the early hours of the morning.

“What about Ben?” Her voice was quiet, throat dry as she blinked rapidly, trying to keep her eyes open although the urge to sleep was becoming too strong.

Scott had removed his belt from his jeans, tying it around her leg as an attempt to the try and stop the bleeding, using his hoodie as a gauze to keep pressure on the world, panicked and with a shake of his head, he said, “It’s too late, El. He’s gone,”

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was the heartache in Scott’s voice; at his words in regard to Ben but also to Eloise as he tried to call out to her, telling her to keep her eyes open and stay awake for him.

She woke up a while later, unsure of how long she had been out for, the tapestry pinned the ceiling above her head capturing her attention when she first opened her eyes, silently telling her who’s home she was in. Of course, she had been brought there.

“She’s awake,” A voice called out; older, yet familiar.

Brown eyes looked to her right, to which she found Han stood by her side, his eyes looking towards the doorway of the bedroom she was laying in. Faint footsteps got louder before two familiar bodies were stood in the doorway; faces etched with guilt and grief as they prepared themselves for the verbal abuse they would receive because of their actions, as if they hadn’t suffered enough.

“I agreed I wouldn’t ask what happened until she was awake,” Han’s voice spoke, arms crossing against his chest as he stood firmly, shoulders tense as he frowned at the two boys, “So, now you better start talkin’,”

Eloise’s eyes met with Scott’s golden ones, a gentle smile spreading across her face at the sight of her best friend, unable to ignore the way her heart hurt at the emotional turmoil he appeared to be in. She remembered almost instantly what had happened, the memories of the factory unfolding in her mind like a movie scene; the sight of Ben’s body collapsing and the gunshot prominent in her vision. She noted of Gabriel seemed to share a similar expression, except he looked to be more uncomfortable rather than upset. It’s not like it was his idea to go and hit that factory, Seth had pressured him into it. Speaking of Seth, where was he?

Gabriel looked as if he was about to speak, about to tell Han what had happened before Scott cut in, “It was all my idea; I thought it would be really cool if we were to try and prove ourselves to you guys by cashing in. I wanted to prove that we weren’t just kids and that we were ready for the big stuff like you guys were at our age,” Scott looked to be embarrassed, almost irritated actually as he claimed the blame for why they were in their current position, “So, we snuck into Wiley’s, tried to steal a couple of bottles of the Moonshine I heard he had been cooking up in his basement. I figured we could sell it on and bring the profits to the hideout… But all I managed to do was get two of my friends shot,”

Han’s sigh was nothing but full of disappointment, his exhale was heavy as he rubbed a hand over his face and looked at Scott, who’s eyes were planted firmly on his feet, unable to keep eye contact with anyone within the room.

It wasn’t the first time Han had been woken up at four in the morning, being asked if he can help someone who was injured. He just never expected for the victim of his next bullet extraction to be the girl who he had promised her dad he would look out for if anything were to happen.

Han’s throat worked, slowly swallowing a frustrated lump as he shook his head, pointing to Scott with an accusing finger, “Just be thankful it was only one life you lost last night. The bullet was only in her leg, and thankfully for your own sake, it didn’t hit anything critical, so she’s gonna be fine as long as it doesn’t get infected,” Han practically cursed himself at the thought of this being any worse than what it was, unsure of what he would do if it had been a wound to her chest or worse, “It’s just gonna take her a few days to be up and walking again, it’s gonna be a bitch of a recovery to get through,”

“I’ll stay with her until she’s ready to move,” Scott stepped forward, nodding his head at Han.

“She’ll be staying here until then, I’ll be keeping an eye on her and making sure it stays clean,” Han packed away the bloody rags that were on the floor, tossing them into his slow burner that sat in the corner of his living room, his eyes watching the sight of the rags beginning to catch the flames as they burned vigorously.

“That’s fine, but like I said, I’m staying with her. It’s my fault this happened, so it’s my responsibility.”

“You never left my side the entire time I was stuck at Han’s place,” She scoffed with a smile at the memory, “It doesn’t surprise me that Han stopped calling in sick for us with the school,”

And it was true, Scott never once went home the entire time that Eloise’s leg was healing. He practically lived at Han’s with her during that time. He felt guilty for what had happened, and he nominated himself to take full responsibility for the factory incident since Seth ran off the minute that he dropped them outside Han’s front door, driving off down the road to never been seen again.

They still didn’t know where he had gone or if he was even alive. Seth had chosen to run away from the gang after Ben died, walking away from any sole responsibility for the death of a teenager and the injury that left Eloise physically scarred. Scott had taken the blame for what happened because at the time he still felt like Seth was his friend, and he didn’t realise that when Seth drove away that night it would be the last time they saw or spoke to each other.

Eventually the truth had come out about how the plan to raid Wiley’s was a joint effort, but it didn’t make things any easier for Scott to cope with.

They never got a chance to bury Ben’s body, nor did his own parents have a chance to say their goodbyes. They received the news of their son’s death via the Gypsy Kings, something that Scott will never be able to erase; never forgetting the sight of his mother breaking down as she heard the news that her son wouldn’t be coming home.

Scott had decided from that day on to pay homage to Ben, wanting to show that he was being remembered by those who cared about him. So, every year on the day of Ben’s death, Scott would travel to Manhattan, to Ben’s parents’ house where he would lay a single red rose on their doorstep and walk away, paying a silent tribute to the boy who had a secret love for flowers and everything nature related; a small secret that only those close to him knew.

It was the death of Ben that sparked Scott’s ignorance when it came to people’s feelings, why he never let himself get attached to anyone new. After he experienced the pain of when Ben left him, only being accompanied by the abandonment his parents left him with – though they thought they were protecting him – once his mother got caught up in her own scandals, Scott decided to distance himself from people, allowing himself to use them for his piece of fun and nothing more.

Throughout everything, Scott and Eloise only ever had each other for long enough. They both had no real family to take care of them; both having left them although in different circumstances. It was from day Eloise had started walking again, leg slowly healing, that they decided they were in it together for the long haul. They had sworn to be brother and sister to each other until they died, always being there for one another when needed.

The memories of how they were before hurt Eloise to think about; looking back and seeing how quickly he was willing to sell himself out to protect someone who he thought was a friend, and how determined he was to sleep by her side while her leg healed, never hesitating or complaining when she woke up in the middle of the night and needed help getting to the bathroom or if she needed something as small as a drink of water.

But when she looked at Scott as she sat opposite him, his floppy curls pointed in all directions, face solemn as he stared out of the window, dark bags beneath his eyes, she couldn’t help but feel as though that something had changed. As much as she did genuinely enjoy his company; she could see their connection had a crack in it. Typical nights in where they would be clutching their stomachs in laughter or racing through the apartment as they play-fought like they were kids again were nothing but a distant memory being replaced with the latest reality of less smiles between them and added tension as Scott’s focus seemed to be elsewhere, as if he had better things to do other than spend time with the girl who had he practically grown up with.

The promise they made to each other is one she’d never be able to forget, no matter how hard she tried. It was a stupid pinkie promise they made on that day that had unintentionally become the glue between them and sadly she felt as though it was drying out and they were breaking off. It pained her to know what was silently happening between them, knowing it would only become clearer when she broke that promise, betraying one of the most important men in her life – or at least that’s what he used to be. It was painful, immensely, but she knew she had to follow through with it. It was for the sake of the city they called home, as well as his own good, and like Calum said, if he were truly her best friend then he would come to forgive her, surely not?

It was a risk she had to take. She had to break everything she had grown to know, unable to stand aside and watch as those around her destroyed themselves as well as innocent people.

“Brother and sister until we die. Bullets, friends, and relationships will never separate us. We’ll always have each other, we’ll always fight for each other, we’ll always love each other no matter what.”

---

Tag List: @steviemae @elsysoza @treatallwithkindness @oopsiedoopsie23

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lyricfulloflight · 5 years ago

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Rumour Has It: Part 2

A modern Cherik AU, powered, university setting.

If you haven’t read part one, here is a link:

https://lyricfulloflight.tumblr.com/post/188224206227/rumour-has-it

Tagging @gold-from-straw because she kindly asked to be tagged if I kept going. If anyone else wants to be tagged for future additions, let me know!

I will be focusing on my long WIP for the next little bit, so I don’t expect to update this ficlet series for at least a week - fair warning.

Rumour Has It - Part 2

Erik sat in his seat and groaned. He could not believe that Professor Garcia was going torture them this way. Group work. How could he do this? Erik had actually been enjoying this class until two minutes ago. Professor Garcia wasn’t a mutant, but he was married to one and had a mutant child, so he was very much aware of the struggles of mutants in society and was relatively sensitive in how he approached the topics covered in class. He also openly encouraged debate, which made class lively and far more interesting than it would have been in a traditional lecture format. But this, this was cruel.

“I am assigning everyone a random partner. And yes, before you all jump down my throat, the selections were totally random, I used a computer program. Your pairings are final. You will not change partners, I don’t care how much to plead with me about it. You will work on this assignment – together – for the rest of the year. It accounts for thirty percent of your grade, so this is not to be taken lightly. The list of pairings is right here -” Professor Garcia held up one sheet of paper, “and I will post it up front at the end of this class. Now, let’s talk about the Identification Act of 1985...”

Erik spent the rest of the class half listening to the professor and half absorbed in glancing around to look at all his classmates to try and figure out who would be the worst person to be paired up with. There were half a dozen humans in the class who had apparently signed up just to give speeches about how dangerous mutants were and how identification and separation was “essential for national security”. Erik wasn’t sure he could work on an assignment with one of them without it leading to him punching one of them in their smug human face. Otherwise, Erik figured one classmate was pretty much the same as any other. Regardless of who he was paired with, Erik refused to let this stupid group project bring down his grade point average.

The class ended with a rush of students clamoring to the front of the class to get a look at the list of student pairings. Erik sat at his spot and slowly loaded his notes into his backpack. There wasn’t any reason to rush – the list would still be there in five minutes when the crowd cleared, or his partner would find him before he even had to get up and look.

With his head bent over zipping up his bag, the first thing Erik heard was someone clearing their throat.

“Hello. I believe we’re partners.” Said a crisp British voice.

Erik leaned back slowly, something like dread curling in his stomach. He looked up at the man in front of him and found himself looking into the impossibly blue eyes of one Charles Xavier.

“You are Erik Lehnsherr, yes?”

“Yeah.” Erik spoke, determined to react normally – surely it couldn’t that bad to have been paired up with the most promiscuous man on campus. “That’s me.”

“I’m Charles, Charles Xavier.”

Charles held out his hand and Erik found himself reaching out, and having his hand grasped in a surprisingly firm grip.

“I think it best if we meet to talk about the assignment as soon as possible.” Charles continued. “I have to admit my schedule is quite full and it may be difficult for me to arrange time to meet with you if we don’t plan ahead.”

Erik bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making some sort of snarky comment about Charles ‘schedule’, which the majority of the university seemed to think involved enough sex for about three healthy young men, and instead nodded in agreement.

“I don’t have class until later this afternoon. We could go to the library now and sort something out, maybe pick our first topic from the list Garcia gave out?” Erik suggested.

“Excellent. I have about an hour before my next commitment.”

Erik found himself walking about a step behind Charles as they exited the classroom. Xavier was a startling fast walker and even though Erik had a good five inches on him at least, he found he had to consciously keep himself from falling behind the shorter man.

He was so focused on lengthening his stride to keep up with Charles, he almost ran right into him when the other man stopped abruptly only a few meters outside the humanities building.

“Found a new fuck, have we Charlie?” Sebastian Shaw’s voice dripped with contempt.

“If you’ll excuse us Sebastian, we were headed to the library.” Charles said blandly, head held high.

“You know he’ll have sex with anything that breathes, right Lehnsherr? If you want to join his pussy footed little Mutant Human Alliance, you don’t have to sleep with him, even though everyone knows he’s slept with the entire group.”

Erik glared at Sebastian but said nothing – there was nothing to say to his baseless accusations.

“Fine.” Sebastian shrugged. “Just wrap it up – who’s know what diseases Charlie has by now.”

Sebastian cackled as he walked away, waving his fingers in a jaunty fashion as if he was saying goodbye to a couple friends, not two people he’d just insulted.

Charles didn’t spare a second to look back at Sebastian, he simply soldiered on and Erik followed him in silence until they found an empty study room at the library.

“Does he do that a lot?” Erik asked.

“Hmm, what?” Charles frowned, apparently confused by Erik’s question.

“Shaw – does he go around saying shit about you all the time?”

“Oh, that.” Charles waved a hand dismissively. “Sebastian doesn’t like the fact that I run a Mutant Human Alliance – it clashes far too much with his ‘Brotherhood’ and their belief in mutant superiority. He likes to try to get back at me with petty insults.”

“He’s an asshole.” Erik grumbled. “And his ‘Brotherhood’ is practically a terrorist organization – their blog has a list of all the human politicians they’d like to ‘eliminate’.”

“I’m aware.” Charles sighed. “I feel the less attention I give Sebastian and his efforts, the better. Now, the assignment – was there a particular piece of legislation you wanted to look into first?”

Erik let his desire to dig into Sebastian’s insults about Charles’ sex life drop. It wasn’t really any of his business.

Working with Charles was nothing like Erik had thought it might be. Charles did not flirt – he didn’t so much as bat his eyelashes. He was completely professional and focused the entire hour they’d spent in the library.

It only took about five minutes for it to become clear that Charles was incredibly intelligent and well versed in mutant legislation. He also wasn’t afraid to voice his opinions, or disagree with Erik. They both agreed they wanted to pick the broad topic of ‘Mutant Identification and Suppression in the Education System’, but spent a good fifteen minutes arguing over which specific piece of legislation to analyze first.

Erik was impressed. A lot of people, well most people actually, backed down in the face of Erik’s tirades, but not Charles. In fact, he hadn’t missed a beat – he was ready with a calm rebuttal to every argument Erik offered. Erik finally, after much back and forth with Charles, compromised by agreeing to start with Charles’ top choice (the Dangerous Mutant Identification Act of 1999), but only after Charles explicitly agreed to end with Erik’s top choice (the Mutant Segregation Bill of 1961).

The meeting ended with a quick check of their schedules and a plan to meet every Tuesday for a brief face to face chat after class and to have a longer collaborative work session every Saturday morning.

Erik walked home feeling unexpectedly happy about the whole thing. It seemed that working with Charles was going to be fine, even if he was nothing at all like Erik had expected.

One might think a man described as the biggest slut on campus would look a certain way. Sean had asked if Xavier was pretty and… he was so much more than that, and yet also, strangely less. Today, he’d been wearing an oversized knit sweater, the type you might see a fisherman wear to keep out the cold, paired with rather ill-fitting corduroy pants. The entire ensemble did absolutely nothing to highlight Charles’ body; clearly he had a body somewhere under all that fabric, but Erik couldn’t have told you if he was thin, muscular, pudgy, or somewhere in between. Despite his complete lack of fashion sense, Xavier’s face more than made up for his clothing choices. His face… his face was achingly handsome. It wasn’t quite pretty, not with its slightly too large nose and the freckles, but it was somehow better because of its flaws.

No, Charles Xavier wasn’t pretty. But damn if Erik was going to tell Sean that Charles’ eyes practically glowed when he was talking about something that got him excited, or that his lips looked just as impossibly red up close as they did from across the room, or that he cheeks flushed an enchanting shade of pink when Erik had teased him about how many books he’d had stuff in his book bag. Erik wasn’t going to share any of that with Sean. Sean’s head would probably explode from excitement from the knowledge that Erik had been within five feet of the infamous Charles Xavier.

No, Erik thought, he’d just keep his newfound knowledge of Charles to himself. No need to add fuel to the already raging inferno that was the Charles Xavier rumour mill. How difficult could it possibly be to keep one little secret from his freshmen roommate?

#cherik #cherik fic #rumour has it #cherik univeristy au #lyric writes #lyric writes too many cherik fics at once #part 2

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imperiuswrecked · 5 years ago

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Fanfic Authors Tag Game

Tagged by: @marblesarelost Tagging: @veliseraptor @traincat

AO3 Name: ImperiusRex

Fandoms: Marvel & DC (comics mostly but I enjoy other stuff too like cartoons and movies), Mercy Thompson book series, Dresden Files book series, Black Sails, Star Trek, early seasons of Vikings.

Number of fics: 66 trying to get to 100 before the end of the year hopefully!

1. Fic you spent the most time on: I really can’t say, because a lot of my fics are ones that I start and then put on pause for a time until I find the muse to start/finish them again, which takes anywhere from one day to years. However the longest ongoing wip I have is: To Find my Soul a Home; very long fic about Namor’s life and has slow burn Jim/Namor as the endgame. I have been working on it on and off for about 3 years. Still working on it.

2. Fic you spent the least time on: Strange Customs; short Jim/Namor fluff fic set during the Oracle Inc holiday party.

3. Longest fic: Catching Quicksilver; 61,858 word fic (26 chapters) featuring Remy/Pietro. It’s my first published fic too.

4. Shortest fic: Mister Dibbles; 556 word fic about Pietro learning more about his new pet.

5. Most hits: Catching Quicksilver ; currently at 4,422 hits

6. Most kudos: The Thief's Heart (Remy/Pietro fic) ; currently at 214 kudos

7. Most comment thread: Strength & Weakness (Namor/Pietro fic) ; currently at 46 comments

8. Fave fic you wrote: My favorite fic is always changing and it’s usually the fic I have not finished yet. I like all of my fics but I think the ones I will love most when it’s done is either To find my Soul a Home, or Lighthouse which are both Jim/Namor wips.

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: Currently none, I really don’t like to go back to fics after I post them because I take so long to even finish one and if I don’t know when to say stop, then it never gets finished. So I try to just be ok with whatever I wrote.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning:

From: To Find my Soul a Home: Jim/Namor fic: This scene takes place in middle of the story, long after Jim and Namor had parted ways. Jim has been buried in the desert by his enemies, which was the explanation of why the OG Human Torch was not around for decades. warnings for angst, mentions of war, and burial:

He is crushing darkness around him. There is something wrong with his body, he is unable to move, unable to cry out, Jim is trapped inside his mind as the sounds of dirt hitting dirt slowly fades away until they stop. They have buried him in some place he does not know, deep under the ground. What did they do to him? He strains to try and move but nothing happens, he can’t even wiggle his fingers. Lips closed so that any words he would have spoken were sealed forever. This can’t be happening, not again, not again! He remembers the last time he was trapped in such a way, when his father- when Horton sealed him in the concrete under the ground because they were all afraid of him.

“I’m sorry my boy… I have to do this for your own good. I f I leave you out here they will destroy you. I will come back soon and set you free, and teach you more about this world. When it’s ready for you. Be good my boy.”

Anger burns in his chest and he can’t feel his body heating but it’s a weak fire smothered by dirt and lack of air. Horton never came back for him, he never returned and Jim had to free himself. Horton would not free him now either. The world had never been ready for the Human Torch, but Jim had demanded they try, he did everything he could to be human and now he can’t even die like one. Trapped in this suspended animation as he hears the men’s boots stamp over the dirt of his grave before muffled sounds of their voices fades away. Was it night now? Did it matter? He was never leaving here, Toro hadn’t even known what happened to him, what would happen to the boy? Would he search for Jim? He couldn’t let himself hope for that. He hopes Toro will move on with his life, he was old enough now that he could make it on his own. Still Jim feels a tear slip down the side of his face, he would never see his son again, never hug him and ruffle his hair and tell him how proud he was, how much he loved him. Toro could be an old man before Jim ever escaped from here.

Time has passed, how much? Jim doesn’t know, he could have been here a few days but it feels longer than that, weeks, months maybe. His body’s functions had been shutting down slowly, he feels his artificial heart slow to just a few beats per minute. His mind is clouded by the memories of the past, like a bad tape it skips around and some scenes run on repeat. If he was human it would be called hallucinating.

“Look at me Pappy!” Toro flames on by himself for the first time without burning any of the surrounding furniture in their tiny home, his fire spark smile is wide as he lifts his arms up in success. Jim folds the newspaper down enough to watch him. “Good job son. I’m proud of you.” Toro grins as he slowly flames down.

Jim wants to smile at the memory but his face is frozen.

“Come on now Jim, you can’t tell me you still hate him? Even after everything you two have been through?”

“Why are you pushing this Betty? I thought you would be happy that whatever Namor and I had was over.”

“I never saw you as my rival Jim, we both love him, but you know what he’s like.”

“I know. I know, but dammit Betty he gets me so mad…”

His partner in the police force, Betty’s face fades away, the tape skipping again as he tries again to move. He panics again, the cycle of screaming in his head, hoping someone will come, despairing when he comes down from this latest panic attack because nothing changes except his heart is a beat slower than before. Knowing that with every moment that passes his body is shutting down and soon he will be for all intents and proposes, dead. Jim had never died before, he knew what it was like to be shut off, a dark sudden black before the light came on again. Is this how humans feel knowing they have an expiration date? Knowing that one day they too will cease to exist?

“You’re too quiet firebug.”

No. No. No. NO. Jim panics again, tries to get his mind to turn over this tape, switch it to a different record, anything. He doesn’t want to see him.

His face is turned away from Jim in the memory, they were somewhere in France on the shore of a beach. It was the war.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“I find that hard to believe, you’re always quick to voice your mind when it comes to me, how many times have you insulted me in the past?”

“So you came to find me because you missed my insults?”

“Missed you.”

Jim doesn’t reply to that.

“Say something Firebug, it’s too quiet here.”

Jim follows Namor’s gaze and looks out at the sea of dead soldiers that littered the beach. Their eyes blank as the gulls pick at the corpses. He looks down at his feet as the blood soaked wave washes over his boots.

Jim wants to claw out his brain, he wants it to STOP. He hated the war, he wasn’t like Namor, something happened to the Prince during the war. Jim could compartmentalize the trauma, he locked it away and did his best to be a support system for Toro, but Namor felt everything more deeply. He doesn’t want to see anymore, and for the first time Jim begs Horton’s god to let it end. More time passes.

The edges of his vision are blurry now, and each memory that comes is slower than before. He sees Toro again, in the circus doing his act. He sees Steve sitting in a chair in the clock tower, his face in his hands, the tired slump of his shoulders tells Jim that Steve has not slept again. Papers scribbled with art is strewn everywhere. He sees Namor in the rain.

He knows this.

Jim’s mind is finally on its last legs as it begins to shut down the last of his conscious mind. He is in a house and every room has a light on but the lights are being turned off one by one. He doesn’t want to be alone in the dark again.

The rain soaks Namor, plastering his dark hair and making his pointed ears stick out even more, it’s cute. Jim never told him that.

He knows this night.

Jim follows him out into the rain, away from everyone else.

Another light is turned off and Jim doesn’t try to waste the little energy he has left trying to move his body again. He wants to relive this one more time, he wants to hold on for just one moment more-

He and Namor are pressed against each other in their little alcove, the dirt of the trench wall behind him turns to mud. Piercing green eyes, and warm breath fills his senses as Jim clutches the Prince’s wet dark hair and pulls him closer. The war is worlds away as he feels Namor’s lips connect with his in a kiss. Soft and sensual, it is a sharp contrast to the harshness of the world they live in.

He knows this… the last light turns off and Jim is in the dark, the grainy picture in his mind fades and the record skips for the last time.

“Say something Firebug. It’s too quiet here.”

“I love you.”

Jim sleeps. A man forgotten by time and those who loved him.

#sorry marbles! i finally posted this #tag game #long post #jimor #im just very bad at going back to stuff once my brain shuts off and says: get the fck out of here and go write something else #which is why i don't think i will ever revise anything once its posted #mim writes a thing

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firstagent · 5 years ago

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Fanfic Authors Tag Game

I was tagged by @ahiddenpath and I’m actually going to do this! If nothing else to take inventory.

AO3 name(s): I’m arpulver there and FFN. Fandoms: Been Digimon for the longest time, although I did have an original webnovel for a time, a couple crossover fics, and in a previous century had a website archiving and reviewing Simpsons fanfic. Number of fics: 9, not counting song parodies or script-format stuff I did back in the day.

1. Fic I spent the most time on:

Taken as an entire trilogy, The Connection took roughly five years. As individual stories, it’s a tossup between Level 3: Experiments and Neverworld at about 2.5 years. Nexusworld will surely pass those, but it’s going to be the longest.

2. Fic I spent the least time on:

Imaginary Girlfriend, written for the Dandan zine, took a couple weeks, not counting editing.

3. Longest fic:

Currently Neverworld at about 256,000 words!

4. Shortest fic:

The Dandan zine had a 2,500 word limit. The posted version of Imaginary Girlfriend is only a teeny bit longer.

5. Most hits:

According to the FFN legacy stats, Neverworld edges out Level 1: Worlds and Odaiba Memorial Day, although it’s possible those two predate FFN’s hit tracking. Not saying I’m old, but my FFN account number is only four digits!

6. Most kudos:

Resumption, the uncomfortably prescient tale of the 02 kids post-tri. (written before its halfway point, is currently beating Neverworld 125-104!

7. Most comment threads:

Including FFN, Odaiba Memorial Day, my first proper Digimon fic, has 252 reviews.

8. Favorite fic I wrote:

For as much fame and attention I’ve gotten for my older stuff, it’s really a tossup between Neverworld and Nexusworld.

Neverworld was planned out before tri. was announced and while it gave me pause about writing the Adventure kids six years older at the same time canon was about to unveil something showing them in the same time frame, the idea of aging the characters of all (then) six seasons and throwing them into their very own Digital World playground to have interpersonal drama with each other was too enticing to pass up. And for as many curveballs as tri. threw at me, everything lined up neatly to incorporate its ideas and character interpretations into my story along with the way I had been portraying them. We ended up with the same Taichi and Mimi even! And for as easy as it is for long fics to go off the rails and become unmanageable, I’m proudest of the fact that it wrapped up every significant plotline and ended in a sensible place with a powerful climax.

Nexusworld, its sequel, came about because as much as I adored tri. and Appmon, they and Hunters left a lot of unfinished baggage that I wanted to address. The world gave me a chance to take Maki and Daigo, well before any of their misdeeds in tri., and put them next to two characters going through very similar problems: Haru and his desperate quest to bring back a lost loved one, and Tagiru, trying to recapture some of the glory from a victory that carried a big asterisk next to it. They also have to deal directly with Meiko, still reeling from her loss, the international kids and their organization post-tri., and a host of other new arrivals and old favorites. The emphasis on less popular seasons has made it harder to find an audience, but I’m finding the writing more direct and more meaningful than what I’ve put out before.

9. Fic you want to re-write:

Many years ago I actually did rewrite Level 1! The plan was to edit the trilogy, clean up some of the wonkier bits, fix some timeline issues, and put out an edition I’m prouder of, but I never got around to working on Level 2 or Level 3. While tri. thematically lines up nicely with The Connection trilogy, both it and Kizuna have poked enough holes in my timeline that such an edit doesn’t feel necessary anymore.

Despite its popularity, I’m not at all happy with the writing or character work in Odaiba Memorial Day, but I loved the format and I wonder if it might be neat to try it again using the canon time period between Kizuna and the epilogue (OMD gives everyone a different future because, shockingly, it was planned out before the Zero Two epilogue existed!).

10. Share bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

All of my Digimon ideas are worming their way into Nexusworld right now and I’m not sure if I’m doing another Digimon project once it’s done. So you’re getting a future Nexusworld scene with Meiko and Mimi!

[Meiko] dropped her bag next to the extended and unmade futon. After some hesitation, she removed her shoes and stretched out on the bed. At some point she’d have to go back out there and figure out what to say to Eri. With Mimi still taking care of her job, she could afford a few minutes to ponder, and even dozing off didn’t sound terrible. Only a minute of staring at the ceiling passed before the bed rustled. Mimi sprawled out next to her, narrow eyes probing back. “What’s wrong? Come on, no bottling it.” With a huff, she added, “What did Tai do? Do I need to make Yolei beat him up?” Meiko let a chuckle escape. As well as she thought she had been doing before, having Mimi back as a regular part of her life was pure delight. “It isn’t Tai. He was great. Actually it’s, um… Eri.” “Eri?!” Mimi’s eyes flared. “What did Eri do?! I don’t think Yolei could beat her up.”

#digimon #digimon fanfiction #fanfiction

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lightwoodsmagic · 5 years ago

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3/3/3

Okay so I was tagged in this last week, but I’m still catching up on some stuff! I’ve been borderline useless. Thank you so much for the tag, @jacaranda-bloom! You’re a gem 🥰🥰🥰

Rules: Share 3 WIP lines, Answer 3 questions by the taggee, give 3 more questions, tag people!

3 WIP lines

(I also got tagged by @princessparkmanor and @bottomlinsons recently to share my last line I wrote, so I’m combining them all. I love you both). This is from my Miss Congeniality AU for @onedirectionbigbang!

Zayn pressed further into the wall to hide the possibility of his shadow, guilt rocketing through him as he listened.

Liam stayed silent for another beat in the other room, but when he spoke, Zayn’s entire thought process fell down and shattered on the polished concrete at his feet.

“My favourite thing about Zayn is how he loves, how addictive and overwhelming and consuming it is.”

3 Answers

Q1. What are the logistics for your writing process? Do you write on a laptop, phone, pen and paper, etc? Do you write in short snippets on a lunch break or on the train/bus, or do you set aside time at home or in a cafe/park/library?

Oooo! Great question. I write mostly on my laptop at home on my dining table, but sometimes on my phone if I have down time at work or something. I set aside time, and lots of it. I tend to just spend hours writing with small breaks for a smoke when I get really into it.

Q2. Do you have multiple WIPs going at the same time or do you focus on a single fic?

Ahhhh gosh. I always have multiple WIPs, I have about 7/8 at the moment. I focus on one a day though, usually. I find it difficult to switch between fics and stories and character development in the same day.

Q3. Do you have different approaches to writing different types of fics? Do you need to be in a particular mood? Do you need quiet or prefer background noise?

Okay so. This might be the weirdest thing about me. I have to have headphone on when I write (not that weird) and be listening to music (also not weird) otherwise I get distracted. The TV HAS to be off, or my gaze flicks to whatever’s on, even if I don’t like it, and I give my phone to my boyfriend so I don’t get distracted by it. HOWEVER, the weirdest thing about it is that whenever I write, no matter what it is, no matter what couple or scene or fic, I literally listen to one song on repeat. It’s the ONLY thing that doesn’t distract me, and I can easily shift my focus to fit any mood with that song, it’s so flexible in my mind.

That song is To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra.

I KNOW, OKAY. I KNOW IT’S WEIRD, but I have NEVER been more productive than I have been since I started it. Anyway, rip to anyone that disowns me now.

3 Questions

1. What’s the genre/trope you struggle with most, and why?

2. Who’s your all time favourite person to write?

3. Do you ever reread your fics after you’ve published them, for fun or for other reasons?

Okay, I tag @nauticalleeds @allwaswell16 @kingsofeverything @forreveries @tempolarriefix @lululawrence @microlouis @homosociallyyours also anyone else 🤷🏻‍♀️

#tag games #3/3/3

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thisweekingundamwing · 5 years ago

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TWIGW RoundUp (July 21 - 27)

Greetings Everyone! Here’s your roundup of contributions for this week. Check out their stuff and show them some love!😊💖 🌃🌉

~Mod TB

Fanfiction:

aminamenta, Mission Accepted (Part 19)

Rating: General Audiences

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Multi

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Character: Heero Yuy

Additional Tags: Drabble Collection, Drabble

Summary: A Gundam Wing drabble collection based on r/fanfiction's July 2019 Daily Prompts. Missing moments and character explorations from a series I have loved for years. 100 words each. Mission Accepted. 1. Heero Yuy

ateventide, Echoes

Rating: General Audiences

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Characters: Relena Peacecraft, Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell, Zechs Merquise

Summary: One Shots, Drabbles and mostly unfinished works

@bailong05, All the King's Horses (Ch. 6)

Rating: Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Xiaolin Showdown/Gundam Wing

Relationships: Jack Spicer/Chase Young, Chang Wufei/Original Female Character(s)

Characters: Jack Spicer, Chase Young (Xiaolin Showdown), Chang Wufei

Additional Tags: fem!Jack, mentions of physical abuse, Mentions of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of Sexual Harassment, Panic Attacks, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Mentions of War, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Healing, Crossover

Summary: In which Chase Royally Fucks Up.

@bobo-is-tha-bomb, Unchain Utopia [COMPLETE - 14 chapters]

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Rating: Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Zechs Merquise/Reader

Characters: Zechs Merquise, Relena Peacecraft

Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff, Summer of Zechs, Summer of Zechs 2019, Sexual Content, Lime, Drama, Family

Summary: When unexpected political roles are pushed upon you and your husband, you find your life turned upside down. The challenge is far greater than anything you have encountered before, but also leads to new insights. And who knows, you might even find the ultimate happiness there. ZechsxReader

Written for Summer of Zechs 2019 - @seasons-of-gundamwing

The Bodyguard

Rating: Mature

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationship: Heero Yuy/Reader

Characters: Heero Yuy, Reader, Relena Peacecraft

Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Violence, Mild Sexual Content

Summary: When death threats start to get serious, Preventer sends an Agent to protect you. But this man might be more dangerous to you than any death threat. HeeroxReader.

In the End

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationship: Chang Wufei/Reader

Characters: Chang Wufei, Duo Maxwell, Reader, OC - Character

Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Violence, Reader Insert

Summary: Five years after the war you still struggle with its horrors. Determined not to let it get to you, you decide to take a course in self defense. If only you knew that your instructor would drive you crazy and that he would get you angry with one look. Oh, and did I mention he is also sexy as sin? WufeixReader

What’s going on Fanfiction wise (4)

Doii, Precogmare (Ch. 6)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy

Additional Tags: Quatre Raberba Winner/Trowa Barton - Freeform, Chang Wufei/Sally Po - Freeform, Get Together, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy - Freeform, Mission Gone Wrong

Summary: A mission gone wrong shows Duo the future that awaits them. Could he stop it on time? Can he protect Relena and the other pilots while keeping his secrets hidden? Wrote it ages ago, never published it. A lot of cursing and references to violence, death, blood and suicide. It's a Heero and Duo get together, background 03x04 and 05xS

@duointherain, Beneath (Ch. 12)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M, M/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Summary: Duo discovers real catsup!

Experimental, Chase your dreams away

Rating: Mature

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Category: M/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationship: Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Characters: Quatre Raberba Winner, Trowa Barton, Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei, Quinze (Gundam Wing)

Additional Tags: Canon Timeline, Dark, Not Really Character Death, Everyone Is Alive, Zero System, Mindfuckery, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Romantic Friendship, I Will Go Down With This Ship

Summary: He watches them fall one by one when he closes his eyes. It doesn't matter if it's not real. It's his fault. That's real enough. "Bad dream?" Trowa asks him. The worst.

@janaverse, stickies from heero

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Pairing: 1+2+1, 1x2x1 (Heero x Duo)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Characters: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell

Additional Tags: Get Together, Friendship, Eventual Sap, Eventual Implied Sexual Content, Mentions of Trowa/Quatre/Wufei/Relena/Sally - for now

Creator Chose Not to Archive Warnings

Summary: heero and duo are in their mid-20's and are sharing a house. they are both working as preventers, but are not on the same work schedule. duo initiated this unique form of communication and heero has fully embraced it. [ these are images of the actual notes that heero leaves for duo on their refrigerator. ]

@helmistress, The Italian Job [Ch. 2 & 3 is up - now COMPLETE]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: F/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationship: Zechs Merquise/Lucrezia Noin

Characters: Zechs Merquise, Lucrezia Noin

Additional Tags: Summer of Zechs, Photo prompt, Prompt Fic, Zechs and Noin catchin' Cartel heads and Serial Killers in one fell swoop. And then having a nice dinner.

Summary: Zechs and Noin have a have a job to do in Siena but with all the beautiful scenery and unique places to eat, will they be able to focus?

kracken, Black Dog Blues (Ch. 9)

Not Rated

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationship: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Original Heero Yuy, Zechs Merquise, Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei, Trowa Barton

Additional Tags: gundam wing - Freeform, Yaoi

Summary: Duo is a troubled detective who solves cases with the help of visions of the supernatural. Unfortunately, those visions are driving him slowly insane. Can his new partner Heero Yuy save his soul and his sanity? AU

Lost in the Blue (Ch. 1)

Not Rated

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Characters: Wing (Gundam Wing), Gundam Wing - Character

Additional Tags: Preventers (Gundam Wing), Duo Maxwell - Freeform, Heero Yuy - Freeform

Summary: After the war everyone is a member of Preventers. Duo proves to be a pain in the ass to work with and Heero Yuy avoids him at all cost... until the day he can't any longer.

luvsanime02, Petty Bullets

Rating: General Audiences

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Characters: Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Wild Wild West, Humor, Friendship, Cocktail Friday

Language: English

Series: Part 78 of the Cocktail Friday Fics series Collections: GW Cockatil Fridays

Summary: Duo’s really not sure how to take his drink coming with an actual bullet encased in the glass.

@ransomedbard, A Good Day

Rating: Teen

Characters: Duo Maxwell

Dialogue cut from a WIP.

Implied violence, mentions of character death

Sheslikethis, The Unforgiven Soldiers

Rating: Mature

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Relationships: 6x5, 1x2 - Relationship, 3x4, 6xN, 1xR, 2xH, 5+S

Characters: Chang Wufei, Duo Maxwell, Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton, Quatre Raberba Winner, Zechs Merquise, Sally Po, Relena Peacecraft, Hilde Schbeiker, Dorothy Catalonia, Lady Une

Additional Tags: Gay, Gay Character, Male Friendship, Love, Angst, Drama, War Crimes, Crime Fighting, Eventual Relationships, Gay Sex

Summary: How many times can you ask the earth forgiveness and be denied? How long will your love ones restrain you from being loved? How far must you go to find your true calling? A story about 6 six men were war has stolen their coming of age and they have to fight their own personal battles to find manhood. While insurgence groups, terrorist and misguided people all try to find peace.

@wingslanding, Broken (Ch. 12)

Fandom: Gundam Wing

Rating: Mature

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Relena Peacecraft/Heero Yuy

Characters: Relena Peacecraft, Heero Yuy

Summary: One of the greatest love stories never told... this way.

Fanart/Manipulations/Graphics:

@artthingymabob, Relena Peacecraft

@deathscythehell, 2x4x2 and an airplane

@dinmitbang, Desire to monopolize

@duointherain, Duo Maxwell

@hashiome, Chang Wufei

@janaverse, Heero, Trowa and Duo

@meporinbb, Summer Wild Beat

@openbookexam, Gundam Wing 01

Cosplay:

@elpheal, Gundam Wing:: Five

@manabingu, Zechs's helmet > Zechs Merquise

Photosets/Screenshots/GIFs:

@animarchive, Mobile Suit Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz (Newtype, 02/1997) > After War Gundam X and Gundam Wing: Endless Waltz (Newtype, 12/1996)

@animethingsandstuff, 3x4x3 (Episode 4) > Includes a discussion/debate w/ @seitou, @cynfinnegan, @gundayo and @terrablaze514.

@bobo-is-tha-bomb, Rough character sketches

@disturbed02girl, Relena Darlian (in “It’s Just Love” closing theme) > 1+R / 2+H > Wing Zero versus Epyon > WMS-03 Maganac > Nataku/Shenlong (GoL) > Treize Khushrenada (GoL) > Trowa Barton (GoL) > Heero Yuy in Epyon (GoL)

@janaverse, Duo Maxwell > Heero Yuy

@wingslanding, My Favorite Fight Scene (Endless Waltz)

Videos/AMVs:

@myspicyuniverse, →Crash←

Studio aLf, "White Reflection" - Gundam Wing Endless Waltz (cover)

@theopmeats, 12 Favorite Moments in MSA: Gundam Wing > (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12)

@timelordnomad (featuring @offspringchick29 & @seitou) - Gundam Wing Game Night (1) (2) via Twitch.tv

Moodboards/Aesthetics:

@disturbed02girl, Gundam 40th “BEYOND” (Comic Con 2019)

@horrendousedits, Gundam Wing EW character moodboards

@jellyfishflan, Wild Wing Boys (stickers)

@p3ac3fulfor3st, All the King’s Horses (Ch. 6): Of Pride and Pain (for @bailong05)

Headcanons:

@incorrectgundamwingquotes, @softnocturne, @rinachiba - Cooking Headcanon!

@peachandbetty, Headcanon - Language (1xR)

@robo-rad, Send in your requests! > Different versions of Trowa

@theresareasonforthis, The Incredibles 2 << Mod’s note: This supports my idea of Trowa working on movies.

Memes:

@disturbed02girl, True warriors debate

@incorrectgundamwingquotes, Disaster idiots alignments > Lady Une versus Preventers > Time travel… (featuring @greenekangaroo & @chofitia)

@janaverse, Definition of glomping

Gunpla:

@bobo-is-tha-bomb, Wing 01 > "I will be true..."

@christianmswanson, Tallgeese (progress) > Tallgeese II > Tallgeese (update)

Gonzalo G. B., Gundam "The Fallen" (for a contest)

@waifus-of-hope, Kit arrives > Mission accomplished (Wing Zero) > Asking the Real Questions (video)

Meta/Promos/Fandom Discourse:

@amyole, Gundam Wing App

@flaminfogelman, YouTube channel update

@invader-vel, The Initials: D. M.

@oneshortdamnfuse, No one versus… Me

Quotes:

@incorrectgundamwingquotes, Trowa shouldn’t put Marie in bed anymore

Submission by @travellemon

Hilde and Relena

Duo versus ZERO system

Relena proposes, but…

Trowa Barton

Trowa, Heero and Wufei

Wufei and Duo

Heero versus Zechs

What's your sexuality?

Dr. J and Heero

Quatre versus ZERO system

At Preventers HQ

Relena and the “cool’ blonde dude from class (Heero taught him manners in fencing class)

Submission by @bobo-is-tha-bomb

Field Medic

2x5x2

Heero and Trowa

Trowa, Heero, Duo and Quatre

Quatre and Heero (the others are avoiding the kitchen)

Trowa and Quatre

1x2x1 (2)

Undercover at a new school

Submission by @timelordnomad

Submission by @janaverse (2)

Quatre and Noin

Duo and Quatre

Trowa, to Catherine

Stranger Things parody

3x4x3 (2)

Aboard Peacemillion

Calendar Events:

@gundam-wing-bingo, Gundam Wingo is a go!

Come sign up for a card here: https://gundam-wing-bingo.tumblr.com/post/186080202031/gundam-wing-bingo

Rules for this event here.

@gundamzine, Interest Check

Hello, everyone! As 2020 marks the 25th anniversary of Mobile Suit Gundam Wing. I thought I would post an interest check for a fanzine in celebration of that milestone.

You can fill out the survey here, which will close on August 1.

( @fandomzines @zine-scene @zinefeed @zinewatch @zinesubmissions)

@gwcocktailfriday, Cocktail Friday

Post responses on Friday, August 2, between 3 & 5 pm in your own timezone.

Don’t forget to @ us!

@thisweekingundamevents, Gundam Wing Unorthodox Undercover Work Mini Bang

Calling all writers, artists, betas/editors and pinch hitters! Sign-ups are officially open for July! More detailed info here.

GW Mini Bang = August 1 to November 30.

Deadline/Posting week = December 1 - 7 (on AO3).

Get in contact with @helmistress if you have any questions. Everyone who signs up will be contacted.

Heads up Mini Bangers! (Update)

#This week in Gundam Wing #twigw #weekly update #gundam wing #mobile suit gundam wing #gundam wing fanart #gundam wing fanfiction

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