Written: 2013-2019
Content: Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, Depressive (but somewhat Recovery), Unfinished (or Open Ended)

Written: 2014
Content: Fluff, 1st POV

In the heart of winter, on a famous plaza in the city, the fair had settled for the whole month, and, of course, he dragged me in. When he told me about it, his eyes sparkling with excitement… I just couldn’t refuse. So, I knotted his tie, tightened the belt of his trench-coat, pushed his hat on his head, and off we went. Arm in arm, we walked along the stands, Richard fluttering excitedly by my side, showing me this, and then that, and ooooh! look! cotton candy! pleasepleaseplease let’s have some! Ha, yes, it felt more like accompanying your child than a date with your boyfriend, but really, I was aware of this when we got together. There’s always been this candid nature to him. An odd trait for a spy I suppose. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I love him so much. He took my hand in his, pulling me to a shooting gallery and waving to a gigantic duck plushie he wanted to win. I held on his cotton candy while he bought a round of pellets. He looked ridiculously adorable, aiming that rifle, the tip of his tongue peeking out in intense concentration. He missed all the targets. It was expected, he was a terrible shooter. Maybe that was for the best. I didn’t like the idea of him having a gun in his hands. I gently pushed his fluffy delight back in his hands, and bought a new round. Six perfect shots. The person in charge was baffled by my skills, and I happily offered my big baby boy the biggest duck he could ever imagine. He hugged me with the plush in-between us. It was kind of embarrassing, in a good way.

The daylight had been slowly fading since we got there, but I hadn’t actually realised it until now because of all the glowing signs around us. His head resting gently on my shoulder, we were sat on a bench, watching the ferris wheel steadily making its round. I knew what he was thinking. We had a very sweet evening, and what best way to end it than literally top it off? I took his hand in mine, pulling him to the ticket stall before the queue got too long. Carefully, I hugged him from behind, hiding my face in his hat, while we were waiting for the next cabin. Then, the two of us got in— ha, three, if we count his newly made Mr Quackerjack friend — each of us on one side — the plush between us. He looked at me, I stared back. Red took over his face. He reached for my hands, and slowly kissed them. It was my turn to feel the heat in my cheeks. I whispered sweet words to him, and he let go of my hands, throwing himself at me. The cabin juggled dangerously and I had to spread my legs across to reassure myself we weren’t going to fall over. He nuzzled his face in my neck, and breathed out how much he loved me. I grabbed the back of his head, and gently rubbed mine against his, just feeling his whole him. A trail of tiny smooches made their way up to my mouth, where he settled to kiss me deeper. I cupped his face in my hands, and closed my eyes, enjoying the instant. When he let got of my lips, he rolled next to me, resting his head on my lap. We stayed like this for a few rounds, him gently smiling at me while I petted his hair.

On our way back home, he stopped at a fountain. The little light nearby was flickering in a smooth buzzing, and in the reflection of the peaceful water, a few stars were visible. Tucked into each other’s arms, we stared at the moonless sky with a quiet fascination, our warm breaths mingling into the cold night.

Written: 2014-2016
Content: College AU, Alcohol, Unfinished

Chapter 1

The night had been wild, like they always were. Richard had gotten visibly drunk and was now stumbling out the bar, waving good night to his friends fellow classmates. He animated parties vividly, but somehow always ended going home on his own. Surely, he was too popular, people were intimidated to talk to him, he reassured himself, though he didn't believe a single word of it himself. He had no friends— only acquaintances. He knew he was the butt of the jokes, that no one actually cared for him, that once the parties were over, he was left alone, dragging his intoxicated body home. He was very aware of this, even though he wasn't showing any sign of it, and had gotten used to it. The parties, the heat, the alcohol, the laughs, it was easy to lose himself in it. It made him feel validated. He was part of the bunch. He belonged.

Chapter 2

To: Hightower It is I, your irresitible joe. — Richard texted, like they had agreed. Contrarily to him, he didn't have any more classes this morning, which was a relief. He wouldn't have been able to focus on any lesson. Usually, he spent this free time in the library to master his incredible haxxor skillz, but right now, he was barely containing his excitement to even think straight. "Hacking" Facebook accounts for fun would have to wait. Instead, he decided to take a walk around the campus. Ha, that felt nice. A soft breeze flowing through the leaves, brushing on his face. You could feel that spring was nearly there. For some reason, it made him think of Hightower even more— something from last night he couldn't quite recall.

Written: 2016
Content: Angsty, Death

The gunshot echoed in his mind. Second one of the night. He knew a sniper would be there within seconds, but he couldn't stop staring at the pool of blood forming on the ground.

It wasn't the first time he killed. Back then, it was accidental. Hired officers on guard duty don't have Dropshot trenchcoats that absorb shocks like he does. He panicked, throwing them both out a window, and because of it, the other didn't make it.

The second time, he was angry. Angry at whoever killed Selena and started this whole mess. Angry at himself for letting her down. The next person he laid his hands on to knock out never woke up.

The third time was self-defense, minutes ago. When the agent was beating him to a pulp, he did the unimaginable and pulled the trigger. The weight of their body on his, a tombstone on his soul.

Still high on the adrenaline, he made his way back to the top of the tower in trembling steps. They held each other at gunpoint. Gessler gave in, and lowered his weapon. But Conway, oh Conway. Richard Conway had enough of this nonsense. Too many people had died, but there was no turning back. Not now. Tonight, he was putting a definite end to this, in bloody letters.

The gunshot echoed in his mind, his eyes filled with the red spreading at his feet, too shaken to shed tears. The distant sound of police sirens was his call back to reality. In a matter of seconds, he disappeared.

Written: 2016
Content: Angsty, Gory, Death

After so many bloody knuckles, it was satisfying to finally gun down Gessler. Less messy but no less personal. The way the man cowered, knowing fully well that Conway would shoot was absolutely delightful. The sheer surprise when Conway did shoot anyway was a sight he'd never forget. Oh, it'll eventually be up there in his nightmares, but for now, it was a treat. No time to pick up the shattered pieces of his conscience.

Before he made his way out, he eyed down the corpse of the hitman he had shot moments before, only to see it had disappeared. His eyes narrowed. He must have only wounded them. The spy let himself float down to the scene, and found a trail of blood that he immediately followed. It led to a park, and there, propped against a tree trunk, the so-called agent Hightower. They were holding their bloody side, a pained expression on their face. They darkened when they saw Conway. He didn't think twice about it and threw himself at them, pinning the agent to the ground, holding their face in a hand, the other shoving the gun under their chin.

"Give me one good reason not to pull the trigger," he gnarled.
"G... Gessler," they breathed out with difficulty.
"He's already dead."
"Money."
"I am corruptible, but here's the thing: you killed two people I cared about."
"One."
"What?" Conway blinked.
"I didn't kill Katie."
"I don't care if you didn't kill her directly!" he screeched at their face, "It's your fault she got in jail in the first place!"
"Actually..." a smirk appeared on their face, "Since you erased the security footage, it's your fault she was arrested."

In a finger slip, the hitman's brain was splattered on the grass.

Flecks of blood, he blinked, touched his face. The gun trembling in his hand. Three more shots tore the rest of their face away. Soon, the handgun clicked empty. He tossed it aside.

It was all over, right?

Written: 2019
Content: Post-Game, 1st POV, Angst/Comfort

The past week has been a blur. I've been helping Phineas with the reviving of the Hope colonists, and we've made good progress. Dozens of them are already working on what to do to save Halcyon after the disaster that was the Board's management. Some of them are still confused and disoriented, waking up 70 years later in a derelict colony wasn't what they signed up for, after all.

The Hope spaceship has become our new HQ of sorts, rooms have been cleared out for the colonists to settle into, workspaces have been established, and at the center of this machine, the hibernation chamber, which Phineas has barely left ever since I freed him from Tartarus.

I said I was helping him, but what do I know about the delicate science of reviving humans from decades long induced sleep? I'm just a glorified assistant. I help things running smoothly. Bring him the tools he needs. Keep people from badgering him. And make sure he doesn't forget to eat.

As I enter the room that serves as his lab, I find him at his work desk, mixing a new revival preparation. I don't understand much about it, but I know it's precise, and that we have a limited supply of this chemical I stole for him. Every drop of it count.

I'm only a few steps from him when the mixture slips from his hands; I barely manage to catch it before it hits the ground.

"Phineas. You're exhausted."
"These colonists aren't going to revive themselves."

I settle the beaker on his desk. He's more jittery than usual.

"There won't be anyone left to revive them if you don't take care of yourself, mmh?"

I take one of his hands in mine and he doesn't protest. It's shaking. I hold it in both of mines. It lessens, but is still there.

"I can't stop now, they're counting on me."
"They'll still be there tomorrow."
"But we don't have much time!"

Silently, I lead him to a chair, and push him in. I'm not about to let this man ruin his own health.

"Phineas. Listen to me. You've done so much already. You saved more colonists than anyone thought was even possible! You're allowed to take a rest. You can carry on after you've had a good sleep."

He doesn't seem too pleased with my lecture. I can see in his eyes that he's trying to formulate a rebuttal, going through several stages of frowning before finally giving in.

"Fine."

Still holding his hand, I lead him back to the Unreliable; it's more comfortable than the still derelict chambers of the Hope, and I've got plenty of spare rooms since my crew left for their own adventures. I don't mind guiding him to the bed, at this point the fatigue as caught up so much with him that if I were to let go of his hand he'd fall asleep on the spot. Which was my plan so he could rest, but he doesn't seem to want to let go of my hand. That's okay. I'm in no hurry. I grab a chair to sit facing him.

"Stay with me, will you? Humor an old man like me."
"You do know that I'm not all that young either?" I try to liven the mood, but I can feel the heavy atmosphere surrounding us, and my smile falters.
"I've made... horrible mistakes." His words strangled.
"I know." I squeeze his hand. He's not the only one. My heart still tighten thinking of the people I... I killed... to get those chemicals.
"If... If I don't act... If I let it go to waste... Then... then I'm just a..."
"Hey, hey there, hey there..." I put my free hand on his cheek, softly rubbing his skin with my thumb. He looks up at me.

Our eyes meet.

Tears are swelling up in his, and I don't know what to say. Gently, I rest my forehead on his. Soon, we're hugging, and he's crying in my arms. I hold him so tightly against me. Oh I wish I could simply squeeze the bad feelings outta him. He doesn't deserve this weight on top of all of Halcyon's troubles to solve.

I don't know for how long we hugged, but when he released me, he thanked me. I left the room, left him to rest, and headed to mine. I didn't get much sleep that night, but it doesn't matter, as long as he could get some. After all, there's still a long road ahead of us.

Written: 2019
Content: Post-Game, 2nd POV, Romantic

Maybe it was the way you held him too close when you freed him on Tartarus. You couldn't help yourself when you saw him out of the cell, overflowing with joy to see he was okay. He looked so vulnerable back then, you feared he would shatter under your tight embrace.

Maybe it was the way you stuck close to him every step of the way since then. You may not be smart enough to understand the details of the revival process, but you're good at following instructions. And so he'd order you around the lab, fetching this, holding that, and you were happy to oblige.

Maybe it was the way you'd always believed in him, from the very beginning. Trusting him, a stranger, sending you in an even stranger world. It would have been so easy to sell him out to the Board. To give in to the easy life of following the corporate demands. Of course, that never even crossed your mind.

Now that the Board was in shambles, the colonists you'd revived together were hard at work to save Halcyon from collapsing completely.

He would sleep on a makeshift bed in his lab on the Hope. You tried to convince him to fill a cabin back on the Unreliable, but he categorically refused, claiming it was a waste of his time to walk back and forth between the two ships; and they couldn't afford to lose time with the fate of the colony at stake! He wasn't wrong, although you've always suspected that he didn't want to be alone with you on the Unreliable. Well, with you and ADA. You couldn't blame him, whatever his true reasons may be.

With your crew departed to carry on their own individual adventures, the ship was too quiet for your lonesome. So, instead of him coming to you, you'd always come to him. That way you could make sure he was resting as he should; sleep deprivation wasn't going to help him save the colonists.

At first, you thought it was simply his drive, how urgent the task was, the amount of work needed, that kept him away from sleep. There was so much to be done, never wanting to waste a single second of it. But as you hung around the lab more, stayed by his side as he dozed off, you realised. The nightmares.

His body shaking in his sleep. Waking in a cold sweat, sometimes screaming. You acted like you didn't notice. You didn't want him to feel self-conscious about it. He had already enough going on not to add this to the pile. But you knew, and sometimes, when he trembled at the dark thoughts plaguing him, you would gently hold his hand. Sometimes he'd squeeze back when you swore he was asleep.

It'd been months. You were eating mock apples from Terra 2, sitting on his makeshift bed in his lab. He was talking about how the recently revived colonists were adjusting to their environment, and complained about Adelaide's lack of cooperation in your endeavors to save Halcyon. He bit into the apple, juice spilling from the fruit. You held your sleeve to his face to wipe it off. That's when it hit you. When you realised it.

You'd been in love with him this entire time.

"Phineas," you said, so softly it would have been lost in the sea of his words if he wasn't always so attentive to you.

His brow furrowed with concern. You weren't this soft-spoken, usually. You looked up at him, a smile blossoming on your face.

"I love you."

He was taken aback. Of course. Of course he would be. Confusion was all over his face, but as your smile grew wider, it turned to embarrassment. He stuttered demands of an explanation, was this a joke? Of course it wasn't, you replied, and all the warmth in your voice carried it to his heart.

You held his hand, and the two of you talked. How a few months ago, neither of you would have even considered a relationship, that the fate of the colony was more important than any of your own. You kissed each of his knuckles as he explained he wasn't worthy of your love, a notion you swiftly rebutted. You cupped his cheek, and asked if you could kiss him. He turned as red as a Zero Gee Brew, muttered you could if you wanted to. And so you did. As you gently pressed your lips against his, your fingers intertwined. A soft whimper escaped his throat, like he was afraid to be happy. Tears filled his eyes, and when you parted away, he cried on your shoulder.

The mock apples were left uneaten, for you hugged as long as each of you needed.

Written: 2019
Content: Post-Game, 2nd POV, Romantic, Steamy, Unfortunate Cockblocking

The Hope is always bustling with life, a very different sight from the decrepit hallways you explored a year prior. In the colony ship turned experimental laboratory, scientists and engineers think, test, build, and retry, anything that could be of help to Halcyon.

After being cleared out of raptidons and marauders, Roseway became the Hope outpost soil-side, from where every advancement void-side gets implemented throughout the system. Their production of dietary supplements saved the colony from catastrophic starvation, although it is thought of as a temporary measure. Enough stability for a few years, at least. Their next step is crop production; unfortunately, Adelaide of Emerald Vale has continually refused to share her discoveries for the salvation of Halcyon, despite the extinction of the Board.

And you? You're no scientist, but you're good at running errands. Under your command, the Unreliable takes flight to transport cargo and personnel from one side of the solar system to the other. Sometimes you even step up and directly help with people's dire situations; you've always had a knack for solving problems.

Of course, you'd love to stay on the Hope, helping Phineas like you've done in the beginnings, but you know you're more useful out there now. Still, worries nag at you. It's unfounded, you know that. He's not alone anymore. He's got a team of brilliant minds working with him day and night. Maybe that's what worries you. That he doesn't need you anymore.

You chase the thoughts, you've got important business on the agenda today. You've got a ceremony to finish prepping.

Tomorrow's the one year anniversary of chasing the Board out of Halcyon.

Smart people from the Hope declared that having a celebration would be a great way to lift spirits, rekindle hope thorough the colony. To show everyone how far we've come without the corporations, prove that we don't need them to thrive. The main event would be in Roseway, of course, the bastion of progress, where all the major figures responsible for Halycon's survival will be present to bolster the people, watchable live all over the colony: Lead Scientist Angevin, Minister Clarke, Junlei Tennyson, Sanjar Nandi, Zora Blackwood, and of course...

"That's where you come in!" you smile brightly at Phineas.

"Bah!" he barks, looking back at the datapad you distracted him from, "Count me out. Too crowded. Got work to do anyhow."

You wrestle the datapad out of his hands, "That's exactly why you should come. It's a system-wide celebration! An opportunity for everyone to take a breather, and when I say everyone..."

He scoffs.

"I don't need a break, I need to finish the next batch of formula."
"The colonists can wait one more day. It's not like they're going anywhere."
"I have a schedule to follow. Do you realise how many days I'm stealing from these people by not working on reviving them?"

Gutpunch. You've grown so far apart in the last few months, you hadn't realise how deep the guilt still ran within him.

"All I'm asking you is one day. One day, and I won't bother you again for a whole year."

He rubs his knuckles on his temple, contemplating the thought, mouthing a silent argument. Finally, he gives in.

"Alright. You win. I will come to your little party."
"Yesss!" you jump in his arms from excitement.
"Easy now, Chungus," but you can see the smile behind his facade of annoyance.
"Oh, oh, come with me," you don't give him a choice in the matter as you start to lead him by the sleeve, "I've got some outfits for you to try out."
"What!" Absolute disbelief.
"C'mon, you can't go to a ceremony like this," you gesture at his whole... him.
"This outfit is practical and efficient!"
"Exactly! No fancy celebratory garb is!" you continue before he can retort, "Don't get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoy your mad scientist aesthetic, but you've got to show Halcyon that you're not the hardened criminal the Board told them you were for so long."

"Welcome back, Captain," ADA's voice chime in, as you both step in the Unreliable.
"A lab coat would do you wonders," you carry on your wild fashion ramblings, "Oh! Maybe some glasses!"
"Am I to simply surrender to being your puppet for the day?"
"C'mon old man, cheer up! It'll be fun!"

He very audibly groans as you push him inside your cabin.

"First off, the jacket has to go."
"What's wrong with it?"
"You're joking me, right? This screams space bandit."
"Ha yes, I remember. Not a space criminal."
"Correct. I have a few options for you..."

You open one of your large storage bins, which is entirely filled with neatly folded clothes from all over the colony. Careful, you lay down a couple of them on your bed.

"By Law if you make me wear this Byzantine fancy lads jacket I will clock you."

It takes only an hour of arguing to settle on a compromise for a whole outfit. Grumbling, he kicks you out of your cabin for the tryout. Once ready, you walk back in, your chest beating in anticipation.

It's amazing how simple things can change so much of a person's appearance. A simple light shirt, a new pair of dark green pants, a white lab coat, and a pair of square glasses. He exudes authority and legitimacy.

"I cannot believe you talked me into this..." he takes the glasses off and examines them. Perfect opportunity for you to try and tame his wild hair. You know it's a lost cause from the start, so your goal isn't to flatten it, simply to make it less of a 'my latest experiment just exploded in my face' kinda style.

"Too late to back out now," you stick your tongue out.

Your hand brush against his cheek as you finish one last stroke of the comb, and your heart skips a beat.

"Here! You look perfect. For the occasion, I mean," you scramble to put the comb back on your desk, failing not to be awkward. "I don't have any mirrors in here but trust me, you look dashing," you can't even look him in the eye.

Maybe that's why the hug is a surprise. Head buried in your neck, hands clasped around your back, he holds you desperately. You hold him back, silent, enjoying the instant. When he steps away, he holds your face in his hands, and in the most carefully slow motions you've ever witnessed, inches his face closer to yours, dropping the softest kiss on your lips.

You didn't expect this. You hoped, of course. Months ago, you'd confessed to him. Back then, you kissed him. You had a talk. How it wasn't the right time. How the two of you had too important a job to do. How a relationship would get in the way. You agreed. For his sake. Deep down, you had the odd sensation that he was relieved. It stung, but you can't bring yourself to blame the man for not wanting to commit.

Then you left the Hope, going on your missions. Growing further away from one another.

And now.

"I missed you."

Somehow, the words didn't came from you.

"I don't know what twist of fate made me lucky enough to meet someone like you."
"Phineas..."
"I think about you... a lot. When you're away." You didn't think he cared that much. "I... I think about our... kiss. And wanting to... kiss you back."

By now, his face is completely red. It must have taken him everything to admit to these feelings.

"I'm glad you did."

He tries to cover his face but you're quick enough to grab his hands before he does, "I'm starting to regret it already."
"Why is that," you gently tease.
"You know why..." he looks away, somehow even more embarrassed than before.

A peck on his cheek, and he pulls you closer.

"Was this your plan from the beginning, my dear Captain? A dastardly machination to get the two of us alone in your cabin?"
"I must confess, the idea had crossed my mind."
"And I've fallen right into your trap!"
"Alas, it would appear the great Phineas Welles cannot resist a pretty mug."

You sit on your bed and pull him into your lap. He doesn't lose a second to give you a small peck, then another, and another. The two of you giggle in each other's arms.

The pecks turn to kisses. The giggles fade. Your breathings intensify. He sucks at your lip. Your arms tighten across his back. You feel his hands on your chest.

"Captain, you've played dress up with me, it would only be fair that I return the favor..."
"Phineas Vernon Welles! Are you trying to seduce me?" you exclaim, incredulous.
"Why is that so surprising?"
"I just... didn't think you had it in you."
"I've been young," he defends himself, "I've had lovers! Before I barricated myself for 35 years."
"Lovers plural? Void be, I've only had the one. Back on Earth." Your journey through Halcyon had completely taken your mind off of them until now, and it suddenly hits you like a sack of brick, "Our relationship didn't end well. We were both working in the same factory and I couldn't bear to see them everyday, so I..." you mime a ship taking off with a 'psshhh' sound effect.
"So you took a 10 years trip to the other side of the galaxy?"
"We all deal with break-ups in our own way!"

A hearty laugh. It fills you with such raw joy to see him this way.

"I'm very happy to be here with you."
"Don't be so sappy, you'll make this old man cry," he stiffles your giggles with another kiss, his shaky hands fumbling with the buttons of your jacket.

"Captain," ADA's voice blasts into the room, "May I remind you of your meeting with Miss Parvati in 20 minutes."

The both of you jump up like two teenagers who've been walked-in by a parent. You pat yourself down to give yourself some contenance.

"Oh. Yes. Sure. Sure. Thank you ADA. I did not forget."
"I'll better get going..."
"Yes! Plenty of work to be done!" you stand there, awkwardly, "I'll, um. I'll come pick you up tomorrow. For the ceremony. Keep the outfit."

You walk him back to the entrance of the ship, with the nagging feeling that he's this close to bursting into laughter. He gives you one last kiss before stepping out, and as soon as he's gone, you roar:

"ADAAAA!!!!"

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