HoloVoid
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"In a world of shadows and secrecy, one man is tasked with the impossible. While legends sleep, he must navigate the never-ending labyrinth of deceit and danger, known as the Apex Dropship. With stealth as his only weapo- mmpf"
Elliott's words reduced to an unintelligible mumble as Wraith covered his mouth with her hand. "Shhh! Shhh"
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Elliott sneaks out of Wraith's room in the early hours of the morning.
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The digital display ticked over to midnight just as Wraith pulled up her messaging app. Taking a deep breath she fired off a quick text, before she had chance to change her mind.
[Hey. Are you awake?]
She wasn't sure she'd get a response given the late hour, but the read receipt popped up almost immediately, followed by a bouncing ellipsis that indicated Elliott was typing.
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Set during Season 13 Quest.
Wraith uncovers a revelation about her past and muses on what it could mean for her future.
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During a match, Wraith launches an instable portal that takes her and Mirage to an entirely different dimension where there's no war or Apex games; only peace. It takes a full week for the couple to be able to return, because Wraith's phase technology requires a couple of repairs. In the meantime, they are stuck in that peaceful town together, where they quickly find a different and comfortable routine with each other. But what happens when they return to their own chaotic dimension together?
This fic is written for Miraith Week 2026. Each chapter - except for the first, because that's a prologue - is centered around a daily theme.
Bookmarked by HoloVoid
12 Apr 2026
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One-shot collection for Miraith Week 2025.
Series
- Part 1 of miraith week
Bookmarked by HoloVoid
03 Apr 2025
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just give me a shot, and i'll shine like the sun by wizaad
Fandoms: Apex Legends (Video Games)
12 Jul 2026
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“Renee?”
Her name—her first name—escaped him like a long-unanswered question as the glass shattered on the floor. The chatter around them stopped, and she didn’t have to look at the other patrons to know all eyes were on them. But she didn’t even have the inclination to feel the discomfort of it—not when this Elliott Witt seemed to be experiencing all five stages of grief as he gaped at her.
What, exactly, had she gotten herself into?
“Elliott…” She didn’t know why she said his name back. He’d used hers, though, and perhaps on some level it felt right, but not when followed with, “do we know each other?”
Bookmarked by HoloVoid
10 Mar 2025