callsign-rogueone

[callsign-rogueone]

we’ve been through the whole Instagram-links-sharing-your-personal-information thing on this blog already… so I’m just gonna tell you to look up kobe_aj7 on there, because that is exactly how I see garrick.

goodnight!

[callsign-rogueone]

I guess it’s trade season again 😐

[callsign-rogueone]

liz-aura meeting was a success 🧡

@auraisereigh love you sm, thank you for enduring my awkwardness and talking to the cashiers for me 😅 I’m going to find a place to hang all of your art as soon as I get home, especially the little girlfriend logos 🥹 maybe I can make a garland of them to hang over my shelf of empyrean books 🩷

[callsign-rogueone]

disney paris is so fun!!! the avengers ride was way better than i thought it would be and i love how the size of the park is doable in a single day. hope you’re enjoying your trip so far :’)

yay! as a california disney girlie I’m excited to see the similarities and differences. and to meet marie toulouse and berlioz because they’re paid dust over here 💔

more gf gang at disney headcanons coming again probably lol

[callsign-rogueone]

i'm obsessed with characters who are like "i'm a self serving piece of shit who never does anything that doesn't benefit me personally, and if anything goes wrong i'm out of there without a single thought about helping anyone else out of danger" *cut to them repeatedly sacrificing their own best interests to help the ragtag crew of misfits they've collected to help them pull off their criminal activities, just random strangers in need of protection, and small animals*

[callsign-rogueone]

here’s two, for two different girlfriends, since I’m a day late on this:

“I’m sorry too,” he says softly, with a gentle touch to the side of your neck, his thumb stroking up against your jaw. “I’m sorry that I ever did anything to make you think I wouldn’t stay — that I wouldn’t want to stay. And I know this wasn’t part of the plan, but neither were venin and wyvern and the pending political collapse of the continent, and we’re handling all that just fine.”

+

You haven’t had the courage to talk to him about his future, afraid that whatever you’d say would make things worse. There’s really no kind way to ask when he plans to be useful again, or if he’ll ever be able to properly serve his country. He seems to have given up on those things anyway, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt to admit it aloud.

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.

[callsign-rogueone]

mentally sunny and I are being traumatized in the isles, physically I left her two weeks into iron flame 😭

I have no outline tho, just vibes

[callsign-rogueone]

your original works sound amazing!!! i would love to read them if you ever decide to publish them!!!

hockey interconnected standalones are some of my favourite books and the story about the skater and the hockey player is so so so good

<3333

thank you 🥹🩷

I do want to publish at least the first one, either putting it out as an ebook or just posting it here / on AO3. I would love for everyone to meet Sarah and Andreas, and their whole gang honestly. I’m up to a consistent cast of 5 couples and a few more friends / siblings who appear now and then. and a cat and a dog! puck and pancake my bbs <3

I’ll keep y’all updated on my progress now and then. and eventually I’ll need some beta readers… 👀

[callsign-rogueone]

having such an obvious favorite character trope is life ruining bro

[callsign-rogueone]

Are we going to just keep ignoring the fact that Bodhi was a section leader in his second year? you have to be formidable to be a squad leader, but a freaking section leader? Dude, you have to be absolutely exceptional. We really have to give him credit where he’s due. Bodhi is one of the most powerful characters in the series, and people still ignore him 🥲

[callsign-rogueone]

we took a tour of some limestone caves and all I could think about the whole time was the white cathedral. they literally had a chapel inside and everything

[callsign-rogueone]

thank you 🥺

I’ve just been doing it as a passion project / fun thing, but seeing people’s responses is motivating me to lock the fuck in and work on it more seriously. I can’t disappoint my tumblr besties, after all.

some concept photos — Andreas (the MMC) doesn’t have a folder yet, that’s a project for this week, but Sarah does!! and her brother + his eventual boyfriend, and some of the girls 🫶🏻

Hi Liz! What's your novel about, if you don't mind me asking? I really like all of your work so I was just curious to know about your original writing 💝💝

okay hear me out… I know hockey romances have had their moment in the sun and there’s a gazillion of them out there. and don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy a good “brain off” low stakes modern rom com type book occasionally, but this is… not that.

I’m tempted to say it’s less romance and more like. my main two characters unpacking their similar but different trauma together and starting to recover. but there’s some sex in there too for good measure.

the tldr: FMC is a burnt-out retired Olympic figure skater, who is now cheerleading for her brother’s hockey team and teaching learn to skate classes at their rink. MMC is the new guy on the team, moved here from Germany with no family around so they end up hanging out a lot. he is slowly hatching a plan to build her confidence again and get her back into competition because he knows she can do much more than her current job, and that she would be so much happier there. but of course she retired so early for a reason… hehe

I know social media being in a book gives people the ick sometimes, but as their story revolves around news media and fandom interactions, I want to do something similar to how RY has quotes at the beginning of every chapter, and also include some text messages and parts of news articles about the team, especially for FMC’s brother’s book (which will be an mlm romance with a lot of chronic illness representation 🫶🏻)

this is actually where the girlfriendverse idea started — I have a large cast of couples that interact a lot, and each have their own document with their storylines. I’m trying to pick which gfverse couple these two are most like… idk. but MMC is kinda giving Dain and also Brennan in terms of his family dynamics, though he’s very Liam-coded physically and in terms of his sweet personality 💔

anyway yeah! I guess I could share some of it with y’all if you wanted? because I very highly doubt that I’d ever publish this… idk. maybe I’ll finish it someday and put it on amazon as an ebook for 99 cents lmao

[callsign-rogueone]

Hi Liz! What's your novel about, if you don't mind me asking? I really like all of your work so I was just curious to know about your original writing 💝💝

okay hear me out… I know hockey romances have had their moment in the sun and there’s a gazillion of them out there. and don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy a good “brain off” low stakes modern rom com type book occasionally, but this is… not that.

I’m tempted to say it’s less romance and more like. my main two characters unpacking their similar but different trauma together and starting to recover. but there’s some sex in there too for good measure.

the tldr: FMC is a burnt-out retired Olympic figure skater, who is now cheerleading for her brother’s hockey team and teaching learn to skate classes at their rink. MMC is the new guy on the team, moved here from Germany with no family around so they end up hanging out a lot. he is slowly hatching a plan to build her confidence again and get her back into competition because he knows she can do much more than her current job, and that she would be so much happier there. but of course she retired so early for a reason… hehe

I know social media being in a book gives people the ick sometimes, but as their story revolves around news media and fandom interactions, I want to do something similar to how RY has quotes at the beginning of every chapter, and also include some text messages and parts of news articles about the team, especially for FMC’s brother’s book (which will be an mlm romance with a lot of chronic illness representation 🫶🏻)

this is actually where the girlfriendverse idea started — I have a large cast of couples that interact a lot, and each have their own document with their storylines. I’m trying to pick which gfverse couple these two are most like… idk. but MMC is kinda giving Dain and also Brennan in terms of his family dynamics, though he’s very Liam-coded physically and in terms of his sweet personality 💔

anyway yeah! I guess I could share some of it with y’all if you wanted? because I very highly doubt that I’d ever publish this… idk. maybe I’ll finish it someday and put it on amazon as an ebook for 99 cents lmao

[callsign-rogueone]

that scene in FW when they start training for the gauntlet…and Emetterio calls Sawyer to demonstrate for everyone…and he does it perfectly with no missteps….

[callsign-rogueone]

greetings from europe

I am absolutely wiped from the last 27 hours but I did write 4k words on the plane / trains! it’s not fw fic unfortunately, just the novel I pick back up every few months but will probably never see the light of day lol

I did bring onyx storm with me though!!! hopefully progress will be made there on this trip :)

[callsign-rogueone]

recovery

platonic! Tyrrish gang x gender neutral reader

How do you recover from a traumatic event that you don’t even remember?

words: 2.6k

🏷️: this one is serious. it’s not shown “on screen”, but the reader has experienced some kind of sexual assault by two unnamed men, and doesn’t know the full story of what happened to them. all of the interactions could be seen as platonic, no mentions of a relationship or any romance, just cuddles / hugs, protectiveness, soft words, etc. and some murder, of course, because that’s Xaden’s love language. dedicated to all my fellow survivors, who could have used a Garrick, Liam, Bodhi, Imogen, or Xaden in their lives afterward. you are so strong ❤️‍🩹

Relief washes over you at the sight of Imogen.

Imogen will know. Imogen will have an explanation for the nausea you haven’t been able to shake since getting out of bed this morning, and tell you that you aren’t crazy. That, or you’ll have a laugh, chalk it up to fairies or aliens or something, have a cup of coffee, and go on with your day.

But the first option feels entirely more plausible, given the full body ache and the sluggishness of your movements — a direct contrast to the racing of your heart that also hasn’t stopped since you woke up.

“I need to know what happened to me last night.”

She looks up, brow creased. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know it was something, and I know it was bad, because I have bruises that I don’t remember getting, and Làidir won’t talk to me. So please, tell me what it was.”

Her eyes widen, guilt spreading across her face, but someone else speaks before she can — Bodhi. “You’re awake,” he breathes.

“Of course I am, what…”

He speaks just above a whisper. “You’ve been asleep for almost two days. The healers had to sedate you.”

Oh gods, what?

“I need to know what happened,” you repeat as calmly as you can manage.

“You really don’t remember? I don’t think you want to.”

“That’s not your decision,” you snap. “It’s my life. I deserve to know.”

He hesitates a moment before he decides that’s fair, but the words are still painful to say. “I don’t know the whole story, but when we found you, you were unconscious, and in really bad shape. There were two first year boys with you, and…” he hesitates, looking over at Imogen. She’s biting her lip, avoiding eye contact with either of you.

“And what?” you ask sharply.

“Half of your clothes were torn off.”

“No,” you say immediately, taking a step back. “No, that’s not… no. That’s not true. I would remember that. I would have done something about it, I…”

“You don’t remember because I wiped it from your memory.”

“What?” you and Bodhi ask in unison.

“When you came to, you were inconsolable. You kept waking up crying, and the things you said in your sleep… I thought it was for the best that I took it all away — so that you could move on with life. It was all my idea. I didn’t ask you, or anyone, I just took you back to your room and did it. I’m sorry.”

Your throat feels like it’s closing up, your heart beating too fast, but too shallowly. You need to know who they are. You don’t know what you’ll do with that information, but you need to know their names, their faces…

“Their names were on the death roll the next morning,” Xaden answers from behind you. He must have been there to answer the call — and from the sound of it, he’d been the one to make the kills.

“Did they…”

The look on his face is confirmation that he knows what you’re too afraid to ask, and that the answer is yes.

You hold in a sob, your knees buckling and acid rising in your throat as you realize that the bruises and tiny cuts on your stomach and hips are from hands, fingernails that had dug into your skin to keep you still.

Bodhi steadies you, holding you upright, and wraps you up in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “I need you to breathe for me, okay?”

You’re very much still in the middle of commons — one corner of it, really — but either way, there are far too many eyes here for you to have a proper breakdown.

“I’m so sorry,” Imogen repeats. “I just wanted to make it go away for you.”

You don’t respond.

——————

You’ve felt numb the whole day, disconnected from reality or anything going on around you, just going through the motions— walking to classes along with the rest of your year, sitting in your usual spot but never taking out your books, just staring blankly at the board until the bells chime.

And now you’re sitting at the usual dinner table, that same blank stare on your face as your friends chat about their days, laughing over the dumb stuff their first years had done… All in one ear and out the other. It’s like they’re on the other side of a window, and you’re watching their lips move, but no sound is coming out, just a ringing in your ears like you get after a long flight from the constant sound of the wind.

Until someone touches your shoulder — that snaps you out of it, has you immediately reaching for a knife that you aren’t wearing. You had forgotten to put it on this morning after waking up so disoriented. But you don’t need it, anyway. It’s just Garrick.

The two of you are nearly alone, just a few more stragglers chatting over their empty dinner plates. You’d taken a few bites of yours, but it was hard to find the appetite for the rest.

“You should get some rest,” he suggests quietly. “You’ve been through a lot, physically and otherwise.”

He’s right, but it won’t be that easy. The mere idea of going back upstairs and heading to the showers and back, alone, then spending the night in your room trying to convince yourself that the wards your friends had engineered were strong enough to keep anyone else out, to imagine anything else but what could have happened in that hallway… you still don’t know which one it was, either. It could have happened right outside your door.

You just shake your head. “I don’t want to be alone.”

“I understand. Do you want to sleep in your room, or mine?”

“Yours,” you whisper. They’d be less likely to find you there.

They’re dead.

“Alright. C’mon.”

Third-years have bigger beds, but it’s still impossible for you and Garrick to fit without touching. You tuck yourself under his arm, focusing on the warmth of his body against yours and the weight of his hand that rests on your elbow.

“Were you there?” you ask quietly, tracing the smoky spiral pattern of his relic.

“I was.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He doesn’t ask if you’re sure. “Xaden and I were the first ones to get there. We each handled one of them while Imogen got you dressed, and I carried you to the healers while the others cleaned up.”

Cleaned up. Got rid of the bodies, he means.

His jaw flexes with restrained anger. “You were unconscious when we got there. They broke your collarbone, and I think you passed out from the pain.”

“Oh,” you say, not sure how else to respond.

He continues to pet your hair, speaking quietly. “You put up a hell of a fight, though. They both looked like shit before we even touched them.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. They both had broken noses. One of them was missing a tooth, and the other had a black eye. You went at them with everything you had. I would have been proud if I wasn’t so angry.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“No, sweetheart, not angry at you — at them.”

“I know, I just… it was stupid of me to have gone back alone. I should have—”

“Hey,” he interrupts gently. “Don’t go down that path. It’s not about what you did or didn’t do. They shouldn’t have laid hands on you, period, the end. That’s it. They deserved what they got.”

Oh.

“Okay,” you whisper, looking at the worn brick of his wall, and the way the dim mage light casts shadows over the surface, showing off the craters and valleys, hollow spaces from air bubbles that popped when the clay was fired.

“Tell me about that book you’re reading.”

“What?”

“I don’t want that to be the last thing on your mind before you fall asleep. And I know you’re reading something — the one with the black and gray cover. Tell me about that. Start from the beginning.”

——————

Garrick can’t hover by your side forever, not with the two of you being in different years and different sections. But there’s one person that he can trust to fill his shoes.

“You’ll be safe with Liam and his friends, I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, giving you a gentle squeeze before he jogs off after Xaden.

“Hey,” Liam says softly. “They told me what happened. I’m so sorry.”

You don’t tell him that it’s okay, because it isn’t. You don’t tell him not to apologize, either. Someone should be apologizing, but not him.

“Do they know?” you ask, looking at the group of first years, Violet Sorrengail included, that are gathered twenty feet away, chatting happily.

“No,” he answers. “The only people who know are me, Bodhi, Xaden, Garrick, and Im. Everyone else just thinks you were attacked, but not…” he doesn’t say the word aloud, but he doesn’t need to.

“Good,” you manage, avoiding his gaze.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he blurts.

You blink at him for a moment.

His cheeks are reddened with embarrassment, but he doesn’t back down, repeating himself more quietly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know.”

He doesn’t push further, even though it’s clear to him that you don’t really know, that you still feel some sick kind of guilt for all of this, questioning everything you’d done to lead up to that moment, because you don’t know the circumstances of those boys finding you in that hallway — where it was, or why you were there, or how you came across them. They’re faceless and nameless.

And dead — so maybe none of it matters. Retribution has already been sought on your behalf; Garrick and Xaden definitely didn’t give them any time to explain themselves before snapping their necks, or whatever they did to end their lives.

They probably weren’t that merciful.

You don’t think you want to know those details.

“Okay,” Liam says after a moment. “You ready?”

Violet and her friends don’t push, don’t ask questions, but they treat you gently, knowing something must be wrong from your skittish demeanor and the way you’re staying glued to Liam’s side, the way he’s constantly surveying the room for faces he won’t see. Sure, your touchiness could be explained by the fact he’s known you longer than any of his squadmates, but he’s taking this charge just as seriously as his protection of Violet. And consciously or not, the rest of the squad are keeping a closer eye on her, so Liam can focus on you.

They’re all very kind, and nice to be around. On another day, you might have joined in on their joking and innuendos, but today you’re content just to observe, cracking a rare smile every now and then.

Everything is going smoothly, until Emiterrio decides that today’s lesson should be conducted in groups — squad groups. And you and Liam aren’t even in the same section, which means you’re going to be placed clear across the gym from each other.

You don’t have any problems with the rest of your squad, but they aren’t the tight-knit group that Liam has, and you’re the only Tyr in it. Are you going to be safe there? Can you make it through this lesson, through someone trying to hurt you, without having a flashback or a nervous breakdown?

Could you even have a flashback, if there’s no memory to go back to?

“Cuir’s boy is coming,” Làidir promises quietly, making a rare appearance. She’s hardly spoken to you since the… incident. It’s obvious that she’d been the one to raise the alarm among your friends’ dragons, who had then dispatched their riders. And she must have all the details, having quite literally been inside your head, but she hasn’t told you anything about what you’re missing.

To be fair, you haven’t asked. And you’ve only been bonded for two months, but she’s not the talkative type anyway, never one to bring up anything that wasn’t an immediate threat to your safety.

Bodhi is holding you as soon as he can, strong arms wrapping around you and holding you close, resting his chin on top of your head. “Everything go okay with Liam and the kids?”

You nod a yes against his shoulder.

“Good. How do you feel?”

“Better than yesterday, but not by much. I just… I was just starting to feel safe here, but now it feels like I’m a candidate again, sleeping with a knife in my hand.”

“I know,” he says softly. “It’ll be a while.”

Your eyes meet his, remembering how he’d told you, grinning, about the first time someone had tried to kill him here. It’s not exactly the same, but it’s close enough.

He can laugh about it now.

You never will.

“Do you think sparring would make things better or worse?”

“I don’t know,” you say quietly. “I think it would be okay, if it was with someone I trust.”

“Alright. You’re in control here. And I won’t restrain you or anything. Just some good old fashioned blocking, like we practiced before I left.”

——————

The two boys have become three, four… then two again. It’s like you’re looking at them cross-eyed, your vision focusing and unfocusing, seeing double. They’re faceless, their features blurred, but their hands are clear — all over you, gripping your hair and forcing your arms behind your back.

You want to vomit, but more than that, you need to get away.

They’re stronger than you, and at an advantage in number, too. All you can do is squirm and kick and scratch, digging your nails into their skin.

There’s a hiss of pain from beside you, and the hands let go. “Hey,” someone soothes, “it’s just me.”

Garrick.

It was Garrick you’d clawed at. Garrick who carried you to the healers, who has let you sleep in his bed every night for the past week, and always distracts you before you close your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you rasp. “I thought you were…”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

He’s scooted a few feet away, giving you space, but doesn’t protest as you climb into his lap and burrow into his embrace, letting yourself be wrapped up in him — the strength of his arms, the warmth of his body against yours… they can’t hurt you here.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, tears starting to slip down your cheeks.

He brushes one away with his thumb. “It’s okay. I’m not mad at you. Deep breaths,” he coaxes, rubbing your back while you sniffle into the collar of his shirt. “There you go. Just keep breathing with me.”

“M’ sorry for waking you up, and scratching you…”

“It’s okay, honey, really. I’d rather you be here with me, than going through all this alone. You can still sleep here every night if you want to.”

“Until July,” you whisper.

“Until July,” he agrees quietly. “I’ll visit as often as I can, but I know you’ll be okay without me. You’re strong, and you’ll have Bo and Liam and Imogen to lean on and help you when I’m not there. They love you, and they would do anything to protect you.”

You nod, knowing he’s right. They would truly do anything for you, and they’ve all proven that this week. You’ll be okay, with them by your side.

[callsign-rogueone]

some onyx storm boyfriend pov perhaps !

[dragon] and I exchange a look, silently agreeing to give them a moment after they’ve been apart so long. She sinks to her knees in the soft sand of the beach, touching her forehead to [dragon]’s. I can’t hear anything over the wind and the waves, but her whole body is trembling, her breathing unsteady. I know I’d promised myself this morning that I’d keep my distance, but I can’t just stand here while she cries.

this week's word is...

How to play: Find the word in any WIP and share the sentence containing it. Reply, reblog, stick it in the tags, tag us in a new post, or keep it private. All fandoms, all ships, all writers welcome.