1 - 20 of 36 Works by Runavik
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There were no tears in Mitrev's eyes. That was without doubt, because Mitrev did not cry. He hadn’t cried since… well, he couldn’t remember when, which meant it was long enough to define him. He was not a man who cried. He was a man who had been called a name he had not heard in years by a medic in a military hospital while a razor moved under his jaw, and there was moisture at the corner of his eye, and therefore Talvela had cut him.
That was the only explanation.
Mitrev receives better care than he expects as a prisoner of war, but does not know what to do with unexpected tenderness.
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Julian scrolled through another batch of reports from Cardassian space, processing information at speeds that would make a lesser man’s head ache.
Finding the Cardassian was a statistical improbability bordering on fantasy. A needle in a planetary haystack had a better chance of being found. It was impossible, by any reasonable standard.
But Julian had never been particularly reasonable when determined.
Agent Bashir is determined to find the Cardassian. His Cardassian. He just might have stumbled upon the right needle.
Series
- Part 3 of Holoi
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I understand your decision regarding our relationship. These things happen, and I don't harbor any ill feelings about it. However, I was wondering if you might be willing to continue our correspondence anyway. I realize that might seem like an odd request given the circumstances, but the truth is that receiving letters helps quite a bit over here.
Utivich doesn't begrudge his (ex) girlfriend. Only, could they keep up their correspondence chess?
Series
- Part 5 of Letters Home
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"—and she would grab me just here," Courfeyrac was saying, recounting some tale of his nursemaid that Enjolras had only been half attending to, "and drag me back to my room so I thought my scalp would come clean off my skull—"
To demonstrate, he reached over to where Grantaire lay nearest him and took hold of a section of his curls, giving it a firm tug as his nursemaid presumably had done to him decades prior.
The sound that emerged from Grantaire was… unexpected.
Enjolras discovers something that Grantaire... likes. He explores this, to its natural conclusion.
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Actually, shit, don't tell Mom I said any of that. Don't tell her any of this. She doesn't need to be thinking about me and bullets in the same sentence. Just tell her I'm fine and making her proud and I'm thinking about her.
Omar offers advice to his baby brother about the corner store, Mom, and swimming. Some of these weigh on his mind more heavily than others.
Series
- Part 4 of Letters Home
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"Suppose I owe you a bit of an apology," Aldo said another hour later, and Utivich blinked a few times, shaking himself out of his meditative state. "Bout not keeping my promise ‘n all."
"Wasn't a promise to me."
A slight tilt of his head, shrug. A sign of guilt on a lesser man, except Aldo Raine was not a lesser man. "Thing is, I got busy. Earl let my roof go to shit while I was gone."
Six years after the war, Aldo shows up and asks a favor of Utivich he really has no right to ask. Utivich hops into Aldo's truck anyway. They'll talk, or they wont. Either way, it's a long drive to Nantucket Island.
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Perhaps when this is all finished, I will be able to explain. Though if I am honest with you, Liebste, I am not certain I would want to explain even if I could. I have worry it would change how you see me. I know you would tell me that nothing could change your love. But I would prefer not to test this.
The sights of Occupied France bring back difficult memories for Wicki. There is only one person who can understand.
Series
- Part 3 of Letters Home
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Got your last letter with the standings. You're a damn lifesaver. These schmucks over here don't know from nothin' about gettin news fast. By the time they hear who won what game, I already cleaned 'em outa half their Luckys.
Donny writes a letter home to his Pa. It's mostly true.
Series
- Part 1 of Letters Home
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Julian's heart pounded. Garak's eyes searched his face, and then his lips parted and a rumble emerged.
His eyes were too wild, too unfocused. His weight pressed Julian into the hard ground, and Julian felt every sharp edge of rock beneath his shoulder blades, his spine. A piece of gravel bit into his hip, and when he shifted to ease the pressure, Garak's grip tightened. A low sound built in his chest—a primal growl Julian had never heard from him before.
Oh God, Julian thought, his pulse thundering in his ears. What have I done?
The DS9 crew crash-lands on a planetoid that has a strange effect on Garak, reverting him back to a feral state. Thankfully, after all their holosuite hunts, Julian knows what to do.
... Julian hopes he knows what to do.
(Can be read standalone, but if you like Cardassian hunt/chase sex games, this is the series for you)
Series
- Part 2 of Better, to be Found
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Bashir is everywhere, and it should be suffocating. He’s above him, against him, inside him. His body lines Garak’s; he is utterly pinned from toe to fingertip. Even his face is pressed against his as to block from everything from his view except the small gap between the mattress and the plane of Bashir. His cheek, absent of that curious scratch that had taken residence upon his face at the camp muffles the world and puts it at a distant remove. The world has narrowed to the small, dark space carved out between body and mattress and blanket; to muffled breaths and the steady, unyielding press of flesh.
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Or: After Internment Camp 371 Garak is cold. Bashir warms him. It would be nice; only it’s a pity Garak was never meant to be granted anything. -
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I expect the county fair's comin up again round about now. You tell Darlene — and I mean it this time — do not put so much damn clove in that peach pie. I know she's gonna do it. She does it every single year.
(Aldo writes a letter home to his baby sister. First chapter as image, second as plain text)
Series
- Part 2 of Letters Home
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Summary
"Oh, Jesus Christ," Miles said.
"Oh my," Kira managed. Sisko had only heard that tone from her a half-dozen times.
"What?" Sisko took a step forward. "Is Doctor Bashir injured?"
"Not... exactly.”
"Could someone please—" Julian's voice was tight. "If you could just remove the blindfold. I can't… reach it."
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A unknown vessel's approach results in the DS9 senior crew getting emergency beamed to Ops in the middle of the night. Perhaps a notification system would be of value moving forward.
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Or: Five times Ardeth Wished He Was With Rick and Evelyn, and the Time He Realized He Was
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“Doctor,” Garak takes the hypo into his hand and brings it to his face to inspect it. It stays nondescript.
“Yes?”
“What did you just drug me with?”
Julian smiles. He sits at the edge of the table, one leg up, leaning back, and looks Garak over. He remembers every adage he heard at the Academy about tailoring your approach to the individual patient, and he says:
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
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Garak comes to the Infirmary. Garak threatens Julian. Julian orchestrates a delightful follow-through for this situation where everyone gets the attention they need.
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von Heydt has dedicated his life to the occult. It is the only passion worth chasing, the only one he allows himself. And for a decade Matern has steadfastly served him, with unwavering certainty in Heydt’s abilities.
This certainty is misplaced.
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Jon laughed. It was nothing like how a laugh should sound. "I don't suppose now you'll tell me some nonsense about how you loved me all along?”
"Oh no, Jon. Don't be so pedestrian." Jon could hear Elias’s smile. "Love you? No, boy, I Know you. And isn't that a far more intimate thing?"
Yes, Jon thought distantly. Yes, it was. To be known completely, understood utterly, and still chosen for exactly what you were—wasn't that worse?
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Or: Jon’s life falls apart. It was always going to happen that way.
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"I will admit, Bashir, your performance yesterday was noteworthy. Perhaps you're not entirely hopeless after all."
"High praise," Bashir said, wry but pleased, and Charles felt the scalpel twist in his chest.
He wanted to say more. Wanted to explain that "noteworthy" was a pale shadow of what he actually meant. That watching Bashir work was like witnessing genius made manifest, that his surgical technique was the kind of brilliance Charles had spent his entire career seeking and so rarely finding.
That he was, in point of fact, extraordinary.
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Charles' begrudging slide into admiration, love, and mourning of what he can never have with Julian. Charles Emerson Winchester III's perspective of the events of "Quo Vadis, Dear Doctor".
Series
- Part 2 of Sometimes you hear the fall
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By day four of solitary, the routine was established. The gray walls became familiar. The silence became normal. The isolation became... manageable. His body knew when to expect activity, when to expect rest. His mind knew when to focus, when to drift.
And oh, the drifting... that was where things got interesting.
During meditation, the stillest of the always-quiet hours, Julian found his thoughts inevitably returned to that Cardassian from the theatre. Those sharp blue eyes. That almost-smile. His assessment of Julian, fellow gear in a machine far bigger than either could conceive.
Who was he?
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Julian undergoes his standard Section 31 Solitary Confinement simulation, where his thoughts invariably return to the Cardassian who let him go all those months before.
Sloan does not know. He cannot know.
Series
- Part 2 of Holoi
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"You're a protector," Sloan said. "A guardian. Someone willing to make the hard choices that keep millions safe." His breath was warm against Julian's ear. "Someone strong enough to bear that burden."
"I did what was necessary," Julian said finally.
"Yes." Sloan's hands pressed into him, pulled Julian back against the chair, the word both absolution and damnation. "That's exactly right."
Then Sloan's lips were on his neck, thin and familiar and hungry, and Julian's breath caught in his throat like it did every time.
-Section 31 Operative Bashir is witnessed during his first elimination mission on Cardassian Prime. He does not tell Sloan.
Series
- Part 1 of Holoi
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Summary
Garak clasped his hands behind his back, considering his options. The offense in question had been, in his professional opinion, remarkably minor: he had perhaps made an innocent comment about Julian's tendency toward earnestness during their lunch. And Julian, who was normally so willing to let Garak’s words wash down and off his back—Julian, so claimed himself the emotional mature of the two—Julian, who apparently hadn’t told Garak that he’d had a particularly demanding day in the Medbay—had ostensibly decided that this time Garak would have to work for forgiveness.
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Garak tries to earn his way back into Julian's good graces. Julian's determined to withhold more than forgiveness.