#be nice to atreus he tries his best | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

totaltotty · 1 year

Text

Lost in you

Kratos x Reader

Trigger warnings- kissing, mentions of death

Part 2 of ?

As time passed, and the trio chatted more, there was a knock at the door. Kratos had stood up and practically ran to the door and opened it. There stood Atreus, two feet taller and only a head under his father. His red hair exceeded past his shoulders, braided itch golden beads slipped over. It almost seemed similar to Freya’s hair but was shaven on the sides. Kratos gave the young man a tight hug “My son! You’ve finally returned.”

“Dad! It’s so nice to be back home. I’ve missed you so much!” He said, returning the hug. As the two broke apart, he looked to Freya and (Y/N). “Freya! How have you been?”

“Ive been well, Atreus. And this is (Y/N), one of my Valkyries.”

She smiled and waved softly. “Its is so nice to finally meet you, Atreus.” She said, shaking his hand softly.

“Likewise, (Y/N).” He replied, giving her hand a slight kiss.

“Now sit, sit, and tell us about your travels!” Freya instructed, pulling out a chair for him. While they chatted, (Y/N) zoned out, once again eying the mug. ‘Where is the mother’ she thought, her previous theory being wrong. She felt guilty, being in this woman’s potential home, thinking about her potential husband inappropriately. ‘What if she isn’t alive?’ She thought. She felt uncomfortable thinking about this and once again joined the conversation.

“And that’s when I grabbed Angrboda and yanked her away, just as the skeletons fell from the trap!” Atreus said with a chuckle. Freya chuckled and Kratos kept his stony, demeanor but seemed happy.

“I have a gift for you, Atreus.” Freya said, giving him the beautifully wrapped box. Atreus opened the box and showed an assortment of arrowheads, each carved with unique runes.

“Woah, Freya! Thank you! I can’t wait to use these!” He said and gave her a hug. Kratos then handed Atreus a crudely wrapped box, you could tell the man tried but didn’t do that well. Atreus opened the box and pulled out a tattered yellow cloak. It was covered in red markings, some of which matched the door of the cabin.

Tears formed in Atreus’ eyes as he realized what the cloak was. “Dad… was this mom’s?” He asked hugging the cloak.

“Yes… I found it underneath the house last spring and wanted you to have it.” The two hugged and sat back down after he put the cloak on. It fit him perfectly as if the coat was made specifically for him.

“Are you hungry, Atreus? You’ve had such a long journey.” Freya asked, standing up.

Freya and (Y/N) walked outside to the sled to grab everything. After everything is unpacked, (Y/N) noticed that the jar Freya had packed had gone missing from the sled and excused herself to go find it. Retracing their steps, she found it not too far from Freya’s cabin. A long trek for such a small item, but she felt as if it was important. On her trip back to the party, she found herself thinking about Kratos again. Her heart pounded out of her chest as she imagined his hands on her waist, kissing him, and even being pinned under him. Her body began to ache again and she took a seat to try and calm down. Her imagination continued to run wild as a figure popped up behind her. The figure put their hand on (Y/N) and she practically jumped out of her skin. She fell to the ground, the jar rolling far across the ground, into a puddle. As she turned to see who it was, her face turned red. It was Kratos.

“I did not mean to alarm you, (Y/N).” He said, helping her up. (Y/N) tried her best to keep her composure, but it was so difficult to be normal around this giant man. She had been around large men before, but none of them made her feel the way he did. “You had been gone for quite some time. Freya is worried about you. She says you’re acting off.”

(Y/N) grew pale. “Yes… I’m okay. I am sorry to alarm her. Perhaps I should return home and rest. I am sorry I caused you to leave your son.” She said, guilt rising in her stomach.

“It is fine, (Y/N).” He said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I understand. Get your rest. I will let the others know. It was nice meeting you.”

“It was nice meeting you too, Kratos. I hope you enjoy your time with your son, “ She says, parting ways with the spartan, and makes her way back to Asgard. Upon reaching her, (Y/N) plops her face onto her pillow. She felt so stupid. “I never should have gone to Midgard.’ She says, her voice muffled by the pillow. As she dozed off, she remembered the jar.

Quite some time had passed since the arrival of Atreus and she had seen him occasionally in Asgard. He often helped the rebuilding process or just did some shopping for his father. He even brought Angrboda around when they had questions for Freya. (Y/N) had not seen Kratos though, but often considered making a trip to find the jar to bring to him. She had since spoken to Freya and learned that the jar was a gift for him, olives from his home in Greece. Upon learning the emotional value of the jar, (Y/N) felt even worse and vowed her next day off would be used to find that jar. Yet another week had passed before (Y/N) got a day off from training. She had started her day by meeting Freya for breakfast in the tavern.

“Do you have any plans for your day off, (Y/N)?” Freya asked in between sips of tea.

“I do actually. I plan to travel to Midgard to find that jar. You made it seem very sentimental and i feel just awful about losing it” she replied, hiding her ulterior motive of wanting to see Kratos again. It was almost impossible for her to keep him out of her mind. Freya and (Y/N) continued to chat as they finished their tea. “ can you tell me anything about Kratos? He’s such a mystery to me and i am so curious.” Freya looked to her and smiled so slightly. (Y/N) took this as freya recognizing her crush on the man.

“As you could likely tell, he is not from any of the nine realms. He is from another world with other Gods. Greece is what he calls it, I believe. I do not know too much, about his past other than that. But from his time here, he was married to a giant, Faye, and sired a son, whom you met a few weeks ago. And when Faye passed, Kratos and Atreus spread her ashes in Jotenheim.”

(Y/N) contemplated the new information, thinking about all of Kratos’ scars and how he must’ve received them. “Thank you, my lady. I hope you enjoy your day.” She then stood from the table and took her to leave. This time when (Y/N) entered Midgard, the land was happier, warmer, and livelier. Birds were chirping, the grass was greener than emeralds, and the air was warm like a hug. She then retraced her steps to where she last saw the jar, and behold, there it was, caked in mud and the burlap discolored from sun exposure. She then picked it up and slowly pulled off the fabric revealing the small green fruit. Out of sheer curiosity, (Y/N) opened the jar and took a whiff. The smell took (Y/N) somewhat aback, as it smelled like body odor and grass. She wanted to taste but was hesitant, so she closed the jar and went on her way.

It didn’t take long for (Y/N) to reach the cabin, she had noticed a new, small garden that was not there when she had first visited. There were cabbage, carrots, potatoes, and turnips growing. She then realized just how much time had passed since her last visit. Holding the jar in her hands, she knocks on the door and waits. After a few moments with no answer, she realized that he must not be home. (Y/N) placed the jar at the foot of the door and started her way back to Asgard. She kicked the dirt and thought about how dumb she was to not even consider that he might not be home. As the dust settled she decided that perhaps she could even try to find a Midgardian market and bring home some soaps or candles.

(Y/N) approached the town, small kiosks lined up and down the road. she smelled so many different aromas. The smells were intoxicating. There were booths with flowers and perfumes, a butcher with stews and assorted meats, and even a shoemaker. (Y/N) browsed the stalls and purchased herself some wolfsbane and goat's milk soap. She had even purchased a loaf of bread from two children that pulled at the hem of her skirt. After spending almost all of her money, she decided maybe it would be worth stopping at Kratos’ house once more. Upon her arrival, she saw Kratos in the garden. He was kneaded over, pulling at weeds. In a spur-of-the-moment idea, she placed down her basket and went to help. “Hello, Kratos.” She said “may I help? She kneeled across from him and began pulling at weeds as well.

Kratos looked a little surprised by (Y/N)’s appearance. Her long (your hair color)was playfully blowing in the breeze. Her features were soft and delicate, but still showed some wear from battle. “(Y?N), may i ask you a question?” He asked, recovering a nod in response. “Are you the one who left the jar at my door?” He saw a blush creep across her face.

“I was. Freya had intended to bring them for you, but I had lost them. And then I lost it again when you found me in the woods. I apologize that it took so long to get it back to you.” She didn’t look up from the garden once. In a moment of weakness, he had an urge to hold her hand. For a moment, he felt guilty for feeling this way. Faye had been gone for 4, almost 5 years, now. But he had mourned over his first wife even longe and done worse to avenge her death. But he had been alone for so long, and something about this feeling just felt right to the Spartan.

“Olives are my favorite. It has been a very long time since I last had them. Thank you, (Y/N)” they continued to work in silence as the garden bed was cleaned up. The sun shone brightly on the two as they finished up. It was a beautiful day. It wasn’t too hot or cold, and the sun, although bright seemed that it wouldn’t burn if you were exposed for too long. As the two collected the discarded greens for disposal, their hands touched ever so slightly. Kratos let his hand linger on hers, soaking in the touch of another being. (Y/N) looked at him, her body temperature rising and her face flushed with red.

“I…..” (Y/N) began to speak, but the words could not escape her lips. Her body craved his touch. It was something she had thought about consistently thought the weeks, but now that it was happening, she was frozen.

A wave of urge overcame Kratos as he grabbed her hand and pulled her in. Their faces were centimeters apart, yet nothing happened. The tension between the two could cut with a knife. Kratos let go of her hand and apologized. “I am so sorry, (Y/N). I do not know what came over me.”

(Y/N) was disappointed that they were so close to kissing but didn’t. She thought that she was so stupid that she didn’t just kiss him. Between the guilt and the lust, she couldnt decide what she wanted to do. She was so scared that if she kissed him, he would reject her.In the next moment, she swallowed her pride, took a deep breath and kissed the man. His lips were unexpectedly soft, which was nice. His beard poked at her face and as she pulled away, Kratos placed an arm around her waist and pulled her in for another kiss. The world seemed to stop for the two of them to enjoy this moment together. (Y/N) placed her hands on the sides of his face, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. She couldnt tell what was going to happen next, but knew that in this moment, she could die happy.

End Part 2

#god of war #god of war ragnorok #kratos x reader #freya goddess #freya gow #gow ragnarok #atreus #x reader #god of war x reader

48 notes · View notes

artsykidwolf-2000 · 1 year

Text

Hey guys! I've recently have fallen back into love with the God of War series (mostly the Norse series Mimir and Sindri are my faves} and I thought it would be awesome to write something with one of my mainly used OCs from a story I'm making

Her name is Flash (they're normally gender fluid but it's the female version in this case) and she's what I call a Draken (a dragon like person and no she's not like a DND dragonborn or a dovahkin). She's pretty small being around between 5'-5'2" sometimes so she's pretty tall by dwarven standards.

I hope you guys like my story and if you wanna see more content or a self insert request or maybe more OCs I'm up for it! I'd love to make new friends on this game! Please don't be mad at my writing skills I try my best!

A Dragon's Loyalty

{An OC × Sindri Fanfic}

{Flash x Sindri}

Warnings: {possible}, "censored cursing", insecurities, OCD/Germaphobia, skinny body, etc.

Rating: Fluffy Cotton candy with a side of sassy dragon {you have been warned}

★★★★★★★★★

{Flash's pov}

It was like any other morning now...cold, wet, and hungry. I've been mostly on my own since I've left Kratos and Atreus since they were being hunted down by Freya...myself somewhat included. I started camping out in the mountains where she can't track me half the time, nor would she want to where her main target was down in the staved forest below. Gods I wish I could go down there and have a nice warm meal.

My mind begins to wonder, looking to the sky for a sign, I soon found my answer in the form of a familiar voice. It sounded like screaming. HIS screaming. As I ran around the corner of a few ledges I find him pinned in a crack of the canyon. Trying to dig him out was a large dragon, possibly new in town, and wanted a snack for the road.

"Sindri!" I called out.

"Falishia?! Help me!!" He called out, "This dragon is gonna eat me!!!"

I twinged in pain when I tried to leap forward. Stupid stomach wanted to make me look like a wimp. I fought through it and leaped up to catch the dragon by the horns. It noticed my grasp and tried to scrape me off like I was a bird turd or an annoying wasp stinging them. If only Brok could hear my thoughts now....

"The name's Flash!" I leaped into the weight of it's swings and shakes of it's head and knocked it into a cliff facing nearby.

As that new fellow of a dragon kept trying to snap at me I knew I had to end this quickly or I'll be it's skinny snack for the road and Sindri as an appetizer. I reached for my daggers but I remembered that I damaged them to a troll last month in a fight to keep my hunt. They were basically broken and dull letter openers. I tossed them aside back towards Sindri and chose to fight with my bare hands.

"Alright worm with wings....let's dance..." I growled then roared loudly as I leapt into the air as it came up to strike.

My strikes were weakened but precise. My claws were all I needed to take it down. My easy victory turned difficult with each second as it flew around the canyon. My grip began to slip as it soon pinned me against the rock. It's eyes focused on mine. Both spark with the fires of survival and battle. When it started to open it's jaws I heard two whistles of metal fly past me and lodge themselves into the stone next to me. It was my daggers all fixed up.

"Use them! They're fixed!!" Sindri yelled out in his cowardly cry. That caught the attention of the dragon again. It let me go and dropped me. I quickly grabbed onto my daggers as Sindri scampered away to his hidey hole.

I spared no extra seconds and launched myself from my perch and stabbed the daggers into the skull of the dragon. It's cries and roars echoed through the canyon as it fell dead upon the cold damp cliffside it used to call home. I dislodged my daggers and put them away. I hopped off the beast as Sindri peeked out.

"it's...gone...." I huffed out.

"Thank....Thank the gods that's over...." He breathed out shakenly before continuing some paused work. As he turned around to ask me something, I was on the ground. My energy spend was taxing on my frail body. All I could remember was his voice screaming my name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I soon woke up.

I woke up in a strange place.

The ceilings and floors were fine crafted. The bed and pillows were nice compared to fur and your own tail for warmth and comfort. I sat up to see I was in a spare room of some kind. I looked down at the sheets. All pristine and uniform with the area. No doubt Sindri's work....

I put a hand on my side. It was all bandaged up from the scratches and what not I sustained in that battle. My ribs and stomach definitely showed with thinly stretched skin.

Stupid Fimblwintr...

Even my own tail looked horribly matted and skinny...

A knock at my door took me out of my trance. Soon a sliding door opened to show Sindri with a bowl of some kind. The aroma hit my nose and my stomach immediately churned.

"Seems like I had Brok whip up something on time then" He quipped.

"better now than never...nearly starving me" I snatched the bowl and chowed down on everything. I didn't care for the mess.

"now that you have food... I'd like to ask you something" he said with a shy undertone.

"like what? Got some feelings in a bunch of am I just dense?"

"N-No...well....how did you get so far gone?" He shuffled into a nearby seat.

"not much of a cook, ate my kills raw or smoked what I could..."

He did a small gag at the 'raw' part before taking the now empty bowl.

"Is it also bc of what happened? About a year or so ago?" He looked concerned.

"....Yes....but also my own troubles..." I sighed.

"troubles?"

"to be honest....my body just...doesn't listen sometimes but today it did..." I turned to him.

"H-How come today?" He chuckled nervously.

"Because I wasn't going to let that ember nosed rummaging scaly lipped lizard get one of my prizes treasures!" I growled.

Sindri coughed as his ears dusted a light pink.

"A-And might I ask what was the treasure? Did you hide something vial on me?! Ugh!" He patted around his pockets and armor until I stood up and grabbed his collar.

"You do have something that not many have in a life time....a dragon's loyalty" my eyes glowed a soft red hue from my blue hues. My dark short hair grazing his face, "and no way in Helheim is that coming off anytime soon"

His gazed was focused but scattered. I could feel his breath hitch at my distance between him. Amazing that he didn't pull away. Maybe he thought of sucking it up for once in his life.

"Well...ummmm...thank you for the gift and for...saving me..."

"The same for you...now I must leave..." I turned to go to the door of the lavish house.

"Wait!" Sindri called out.

I stopped, "What's this? Now you want a dirty dragon?"

"You seemed...cold and alone out there...maybe I can return the favor and" he sighed, "and let you stay"

"does it come with meals and a warm bed?"

"of course! I'm not a savage!"

"like me?"

"You're not a savage... you're my friend" he gently reached out and touched a finger to my chest.

I grabbed his hand and his waist. I dipped him into a gentle scoop and grazed his beard. I rubbed my cheek into his glove and licked his cheek as I gave him my signature smirk.

"Maybe a bit more?" I purred

Sindri stood cold for a second before wriggling out of my grasp. He tried to wipe off his glove and cheek.

"YOUR TONGUE IS LIKE SAND PAPER!!! AUGH!!! GROSS!!!" he ran off to go wash himself off. I swore I heard a loud bellowing laugh from Brok downstairs.

As I watched him race out of the room, I felt a little warm knowing I belonged somewhere again. I know I tease him a lot during my years of knowing him but now....

I know where heart resides...

I hope he feels the same...before it's too late...

#sindri x reader #sindri #sindri x oc #god of war #god of war ragnarok #dragons #black dragons #fanfic #sindri god of war

26 notes · View notes

danwhobrowses · 1 year

Text

God of War: Ragnarok - Review

No secrets on how I felt about it given the gif, and to tell you the truth I still have some Berserkers, Muspelheim trials and one very feisty Valkyrie Queen to deal with, but I've dealt with the main story and if I keep delaying it (having to wait over a month to get it because people were nagging me for birthday ideas) I'll end up not doing it, so here's a more in-depth review of the game

Spoilers for the game

So yeah, I really enjoyed the game, probably a little more than the first of the Norse saga, there's plenty it excels at but at the same time there are elements I found were not as good as the previous. We'll get the negatives out the way.

What I didn't like as much Perhaps my bigger gripe (which is an actual gripe) is the combat. The invincibility frames, and lack thereof, are frustrating especially against Elite and Boss fights, you can take a ton of damage when you're doing a Runic attack or you can hit an attack that should stun an enemy and then the enemy will no-sell it and land a stronger blow. With bosses I also didn't like that you couldn't tell between a dodgeable red attack and a red attack where you need to attack them to stagger them, so it can get annoying. Personally I also preferred when summoning the axe was a simple triangle, using the D-Pad does slow my rhythm.

In addition, the Amulet of Yggdrasil is a bit of a downgrade to the equipment slots, there are less customization options as well which makes it harder to get a decent armor build, in the end I stuck with the Survival gear because it had the best stats - which makes you wonder why do you bother with the other sets? I also felt sad that we lost out on some skills and runics, Ivaldi's Anvil thankfully stuck around but all the other Runic attacks I used before didn't transition to the sequel. It would've also been nice for the companion armor to have some stat modifications too.

While it was good to visit all the realms, the time you spend in each realm isn't so well spread out, Vanaheim is beautiful but I lost my senses with how long I was in there, Day/Night based missions with respawning flora catching me out, we spent so much time there and yet Jotunheim, Asgard, Niflheim and Helheim used very sparingly. This transitions into my least critical gripe that we could've spent more time in the main story; take the Atreus quests (or Loki Sennas as I sometimes call them), Ironwood was just one whole chunk and you only get 3 Asgard chapters, which does reduce our time spent with characters like Skjoldr, Thrúd, Thor, Sif, and Angrbroda, I also feel like we could've spent more time with Freyr's rebel squad a bit more, Birgyr's sacrifice may've been undercut by surviving but the act of his sacrifice would've landed much harder if we had spent more time with his character. On lighter sides, I do also wish we had some more creative special bosses, particularly Bitter Squirrel I wanted to smack that rodent around, fighting the Norns would've been interesting - and I do wish we could go back just to show them that we survived anyway - and got to visit more prophecy cabinets' secret rooms just to learn more of the world.

And finally, when we talk about characters, Thor. Now I loved what we did with Thor because he was in many ways a mirror of Kratos, who also found a sense of peace by bettering himself from his brutal, genocidal and bloody past, and while I understand that Odin killing Thor is a big moment, it also sucked that we robbed Thor of the chance to better himself by having him die the first moment of agency he has against his father. While it does represent the continuation of the cycle Kratos tried to avoid by killing Baldur in the previous game (Parent killing Child/Child killing Parent) I felt there could've been more stock in Thor getting the chance to be good, especially with a potential sequel, we could've also done more with Gryla.

What I really liked Of course we can choose 'everything else', because this game is a lot of fun with equal parts of frustrating - unsurprising that previous annoyers like Wulvers and Revenants come back just to join new annoyers like the Dreki and Bifrost users (like seriously that Bifrost Berserker...) - with stunning visuals and music to boot.

Its crown jewel is of course the character building; each character undergoes a compelling journey, most compelling is Thor with how his character is subverted from his stories into a sympathetic grieving character and Kratos' journey to try and find a way to live knowing that Atreus will soon seek his own path. We also got new characters such as college bro Freyr, Angrboda (who exposes Atreus' inability to flirt), rough and tough aspiring valkyrie Thrúd and 'face in the dictionary' bastard Heimdall who made strong impressions without overshadowing the current characters. Odin's role as chief villain as well is great because of how unlike God of War it is, his villainy isn't some hulking muscle sponge for Kratos to skewer like it's a washboard, he's cunning, sly and manipulative, having influenced Atreus throughout the whole story by posing as Tyr (I did wonder why he was caged in such an unguarded area), which leads us into the tragedy of losing Brok. The dwarves' 'chaperoning' did provide some good comedy, and as we built to Brok being without part of his soul we slowly didn't clock onto his death, which hurts even more given how he was both correct to suspect 'Tyr' and we had recently come back from a deep scene of him blessing the Draupnir Spear. Admittedly I didn't like the blipping out animation because it always feels like a bug, but Sindri's grief is a heartbreakingly tragic part of the story necessary to bring us to our lowest point, while the grief will linger with Sindri, I felt that Sindri being the one to 'kill' Odin was justified.

Initially, I wasn't sure I'd like the Draupnir Spear; as a ranged weapon I worried it wouldn't fit with the more hack n slash style, but I was greatly wrong in that department. The Spear is great, I use it a ton especially against the Drakes, Wights and Phantoms since it's good for stunning and longer range. The expansion of allowing Atreus to fight alone with his own unique skill tree is also a lot of fun, having his own variation of 'Spartan Rage' in shapeshifting, as is getting to have Freya as a companion to fight alongside too by being able to use her Valkyrie powers. Dialogue also remains fun and witty, expanding on elements of the speaking character, particularly Mimir and his past, but it was also surprising to see Kratos open up on his past a lot, not only to Atreus and Mimir but to Freya too (who engage in a lot of 'hate flirting' and just general flirting) even mentioning his wife and child and also Deimos - existing only in PSP side games.

While we spend A LOT of time in Vanaheim, all of the realms are good to explore, Jotunheim is particularly breathtaking and both Vanaheim and Svartalfheim has some fantastic scenery, Asgard itself is good to look at too, very Nordic in its aesthetic of longhouses and taverns, each realm feeling different for the other. And then the crescendo of Ragnarok did set up a big and dramatic ending.

The ending too is bittersweet, but it fully encapsulates the themes of God of War; choosing ones path in spite of prophecy, letting go and embracing the unknown - which Odin couldn't comprehend doing, and not responding to grief by sinking into old ways, it is a perfect end to the Norse saga while leaning but not fully copying aspects to how Ragnarok and other aspects of Norse myth - such as the origin of Loki's 'children' - went down (though I would not have minded Fenrir just popping up and swallowing Odin whole much like he does in Norse Ragnarok). And yet, then there is still a wealth of post-game still to achieve, which does benefit in extending the play time.

So yeah, everything else.

The Norse Saga ends, but what next? I know that Barlog has said that the Norse saga is over, and that they're eyeing Egyptian and Maya mythology, but part of me does feel like part of the Norse saga is still unfinished.

If it were me at least, I would look towards perhaps working on a multi-pronged assault. Odin is dead but that doesn't mean his religion is all gone; he was worshipped by Saxons and other Germanic faith too, which could invite British folklore to come to try and avenge Odin and perhaps even trigger the Wild Hunt - which Odin sometimes leads. We could also use Odin's oft-forgotten brothers Ville and Vé and refashion them into leaders of other pantheons in other lands, seeking to avenge their brother in the same way. While that is happening too we can have Sindri's descent, acting upon rage and the path of revenge since killing Odin didn't give him the satisfaction he had hoped, in that aspect Sindri could be Atreus' enemy but one Kratos can eventually talk down after he gets clarity over the damage he has caused - probably through association with another, for instance Vidyar, son of Odin and god of Vengeance, or by creating Tyrfing the cursed sword that kills whenever it was drawn to rival the Leviathan axe out of grief and anger, knowing that to get to Atreus he'd need to distract Kratos. Finally I feel like we should also consider bringing Athena back as a manipulator in the shadows, looking once more for a chance to drop the hammer on Kratos at his most vulnerable, she could also be associated with the mask, since they both bore an ethereal green light and she did find a way to avoid death in a higher plane of existence.

With that we could also get Atreus seeking other lands for more Jotnar who established themselves as other deities from other pantheons, while maybe also inheriting his mother's axe in the end while Kratos seeks to fulfill Faye's new vision for him by protecting the lands that home his allies and family, therefore bridging out to other pantheons that way without having to kill off or discard all of the Norse saga's groundwork.

Regardless, and I have cut a lot short just so it didn't get too long such as gushing about Fay, all the doggos, the Tortoise with a mini tree growing out of its back etc., Ragnarok leaves me fulfilled with my playing experience and yet equally eager and anticipating for more, so I hope to see what Santa Monica has for us next.

21 notes · View notes

screechthewriter · 2 months

Text

you crazy-assed cosmonaut (remember your virtue) | a god of war/titanfall 2 crossover

part 3/6:

He couldn't keep much from Atreus.

Not because they were friends, though that was part of it. Cooper had never been good at lying, and he was even less good at it when it involved family and friends. But even more than that, Atreus (and he was still getting used to thinking of Arthur by that name) seemed to have an uncanny ability to hone in on when Cooper was trying to be sneaky about something. Usually he minded his business, but…

Well, Cooper was being (badly) sneakier than usual. It'd be enough to make anyone curious.

"You know you don't have to prove anything to anyone, right?"

"Huh?" Cooper scrambled to figure out where that comment might have come from. "I mean...I guess? What are you talking about?"

"All the extra workouts. You're in perfectly good shape and everyone knows you pull your weight."

Oh. The extra workouts. Right. "Yeah, I know, just...pushing myself a bit. No sense in staying stagnant." Atreus's face was, in that moment, deeply unreadable. It made Cooper nervous. "No one said anything to me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good, because then I'd have to kill them." Cooper couldn't tell if Atreus was joking. He was pretty sure, comments like that were usually jokes, but Atreus was protective, and something about the way he said it told Cooper that there were instances where he'd be fine with killing someone over a slight. "But seriously, don't overdo it. You're healed up, right?"

"Oh, yeah, that was nothing. Mild tissue damage." Maybe that's what that was. Their last big engagement had ended with the camp in tatters and the two of them separated. He knew Atreus felt bad about not being there to help, no matter how many times Cooper reminded him that a Titan pilot had been there. Cooper couldn't deny that the extra help in that whole mess would've been nice, but he didn't blame Atreus for not being there or anything. "They cleared me ages ago."

“But are you actually feeling better, or is this a ‘we cleared you because we need guys’ kind of deal?”

“I’m okay.” The wounds to the leg and shoulder still hurt a little, but only when he poked them. Obvious answer was not to poke them, but he couldn’t help it sometimes. It was like repeatedly looking into the fridge to see if the food fairy had brought anything, except he was repeatedly, pointlessly checking to see if it had healed fully. “How are you holding up? And don’t give me that look. I know you hate long ship deployments.”

Atreus looked like he was considering arguing the point, but ultimately… “Yeah, okay, if I don’t get to see a plant soon, I might lose my mind a little,” he admitted. “When are we landing again?”

Before Cooper could respond, he heard a familiar voice down the hallway. It took every ounce of self-control to act like he didn’t immediately recognize the individual in question. That self-control was a lot harder when the figure walked by. “Cooper,” said Captain Lastimosa with a friendly but not too familiar nod.

“Captain, sir,” Cooper said.

“Captain,” Atreus echoed. He sounded pretty neutral at first, but the second Captain Lastimosa was out of earshot, he turned to face Cooper with an eager expression. “Was that him?”

“Who?”

“The pilot, the guy you saved!”

"Okay, first of all? He did most of the heavy lifting…"

"Jack, he was in a wheelchair after that fight. You can't tell me he did most of the heavy lifting when you were the only one walking on your own when you got back."

"He did most of the heavy lifting," Cooper insisted, feeling his ears start to go red. Atreus held up both hands, backing off but definitely not buying it. "But yeah, that's him. Captain Tai Lastimosa. He's nice."

He was really nice, actually, but saying that would mean going into the thing Cooper was keeping secret, so he tried his best to keep his mouth shut beyond that.

"Seems that way. Hey, maybe since you saved his ass, he can get you into the SRS after all."

Cooper felt the blush spread down into his face. He just hoped he looked more embarrassed than alarmed. How does he...no, he doesn't know, but he does know you got turned down from the program and it would make sense to ask Captain Lastimosa for a reference…

"I don't know. Maybe." Change the subject, quick. "Why didn't you ever apply? They'd probably take you. You're one of the best fighters I've met." He wasn't saying that for the sake of flattery. It was the truth. Atreus had good aim, definitely some combat training outside of the Militia, endurance, strength...he was basically the complete package, as far as physical traits. Personality-wise, he was a bit irreverent sometimes, but they could work with that.

Despite that, Atreus shook his head. "Absolutely not. Even if people didn't think I was weird, have you seen how small those cockpits are?" Atreus gestured to himself. "I haven't been small enough to fit comfortably in there since I was a teenager."

Good point. There were taller pilots, but they were rare for that reason. Atreus had a good seven or eight inches on Cooper. It'd be a bit of a tight fit. "Fair point. I've gotta say, I can't really picture you ever being my height."

"Would you believe me if I said I was small for my age as a kid?"

"Yes, but only because that seems like a weird thing to lie about. Late bloomer?”

“Sick a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve ended up taller if I hadn’t been. Both my parents are pretty tall. Giant, even.”

He said it like it was an inside joke. Cooper thought about asking, but since the chances of Atreus explaining a family-based inside joke were roughly 50/50 (and even the explanations he did get were short), he decided to mind his own business this time. Especially since reciprocal business-minding might be the only thing keeping Cooper’s secret.

The thought was still there, though. Maybe I should tell him. Atreus certainly wasn't the only person he'd thought about confessing to, but he was the one Cooper saw the most frequently these days, which made the secret-keeping a lot harder. It wasn't like Atreus was going to rat him out or anything (he never would, definitely not), so technically there was nothing to worry about.

But it felt wrong expecting Atreus to keep a secret that big. And it didn't feel right to make that decision without consulting Captain Lastimosa (the guy who stood to lose a lot more if news of what he was doing reached the wrong ears). And since Cooper couldn't think of a good way to say hey, so, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep a secret from this One Particular Person, so is it okay if I tell him, I promise he's solid, he just...kept his mouth shut. Kept the secret.

Right up until the point when he couldn't anymore.

It was, in short, one of those days. The long ship deployment had been getting to Cooper, too, making him a bit overstimulated and scatterbrained. That meant he wasn't watching where he was going or who might see him. That meant when he was slipping away from another training session that left him feeling more scatterbrained, his reaction to hearing someone approach was to freeze instead of even trying to hide.

Damn it. Damn it. No, no. Everyone knew this was the part of the ship where the pilots hung out...a rifleman, much less a random class-three like him hanging around would just attract questions...what should he say? What should he do?! What…

"Psst!"

The sharp hiss caught his attention. Cooper turned around in time to see Atreus standing behind him, as if he'd just materialized out of the ether. Cooper didn't respond verbally, just stared, but fortunately Atreus seemed to pick up the plea for help. Atreus stepped forward quickly, gesturing for Cooper to follow. He was walking towards the footsteps, but Cooper followed anyway because at least if there was two of them there was safety in numbers…

"Falið," Atreus breathed.

"What?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Atreus said, this time loud enough that Cooper could hear him without straining. That had nothing to do with what he'd just said, not as far as Cooper could tell...then again, maybe he'd just been swearing. Cooper wasn't immune to the urge to swear in a non-English language. "This part of the ship's not haunted, is it?"

"No, just…" Cooper swallowed hard as he caught sight of the other guy walking down the hall. He was pretty sure his name was Anderson, but he hadn't really learned the faces of the other pilots yet. "...surprised to see you here."

"Regular firing range is full. I figured they wouldn't mind if they borrowed theirs." Atreus walked past Anderson without acknowledging him—and, to Cooper's shock, Anderson did the same. He wasn't even shocked that they'd walked right past a major without any kind of respectful acknowledgment—the Militia wasn't so stuck up on rank that you had to constantly be saluting people. Regular-grade respect was fine. But not even a friendly hello? A casual Private, Major exchange? It was like Anderson hadn't seen them at all.

Not that Cooper was ungrateful, because damn, bullet dodged. But it was weird, weird in a way that made him wonder if he needed another coffee or a prolonged nap.

"...kind of mad that they get the fun moving targets, but whatever. So, uh, any reason you're back here?"

Cooper's entire face went red. "Uhm."

Atreus had a slightly gleeful look, the cat that caught the mouse smile that said maybe Cooper hadn't been as slick as he'd thought. "You don't have to say anything, just...confirm or deny, Lastimosa's been giving you a leg up?"

Damn it. He couldn't back out now. Omitting the truth was one kind of lying, but outright giving false information? Especially now? Not happening. So, Cooper nodded, despite the pang of terror that it gave him.

Atreus didn't look mad; in fact, he looked downright gleeful. "I knew it…"

"You can't tell anyone."

"I would never. And for what it's worth, I don't think anyone else has worked it out, or if they have, they don't care. I'm just exceptionally clever." He grinned at Cooper brightly. "Can I just say, I am deeply proud? My best friend, getting secret special ops training..."

"It's not that impressive."

"It is. Don't sell yourself short. Just promise you'll remember me when you're some kind of big hero."

As if that would ever happen. Even if he made SRS, Cooper wasn't sure he was hero material. "I don’t bail on friends,” Cooper said. “And besides, you’re one of the only people crazy enough to be friends with me.”

Atreus shook his head. “I wouldn’t say crazy. No one else knows what they’re missing.” He held out an arm questioningly, only turning the gesture into a one-armed hug when Cooper leaned into it. “You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

It was good to hear. It really was.

Over time, Cooper came to realize that plenty of people knew about him and Lastimosa, but as long as he wasn’t actively disrupting anything, no one cared. It made things a little bit easier, and a little less stressful. He was still glad that Atreus was the first outsider to learn. It made things less strained between them—not that things had been especially strained, but even a small amount of strain was enough to make him feel uneasy.

Having everything back to normal felt good.

#fic: you crazy assed cosmonaut (remember your virtue)#series: hammer of the gods (will drive our ships to new lands)#god of war #titanfall 2 #respawn cinematic universe

0 notes

star-killer-md · 3 years

Text

Dream a Little Dream of Me Pt. 8

Well folks I have returned after a long break. I was hit with a wave of no motivation and life shit but thank you to everyone who has read all my other shit and left me such nice feedback. I am patently horrible at responding to comments but I see them all and love them so much. There is not much Kylo in this chapter, so apologies in advance but I promise there will be plenty of him to come.

AO3 Mirror

Part 9 to come

Warnings: Angst, angst and more angst, not much else except for that so buckle up.

Summary: In which you discover sometimes knowing is worse.

Ship: Kylo Ren x Negotiator!Reader

Word Count: 6.4k

Your breathing stopped along with the footsteps at the door. One hand remained pressed firmly against your mouth while you shrunk as far under the desk as possible. There was only horrid stillness for the next few moments. You got the distinct impression that whoever stood at the entryway was tasting the very air, sniffing like a predator for blood spilled into the sea. And a chill ran through you the second he caught your scent. A voice like ice and stone rang out as the hunt began in earnest.

“You know, it’s impolite to enter a room without permission,” Atreus mused from behind you.

The sound of it coupled with the knowledge that he was only mere footsteps away made your limbs shake. Like a wild creature caught in a snare, you were flooded with instinctual fear at the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Though I will admit, I was hoping you would pay me a visit.”

He was pacing now, footsteps softened by the carpet but still perceptible. To your right the embellished wardrobe doors were flung open accompanied by a dissatisfied grunt. You frantically searched the immediate area for paths of escape—or potential weapons if it came to that—but there was nothing. Your back was to the door and Atreus stood directly between you and the only way out.

As the likelihood that you would walk out of this office dwindled, you cursed yourself and your hubris for ever taking this job in the first place.

There must have been a saying about this type of thing somewhere, but you couldn’t seem to recall any at the moment.

“You ought to show yourself,” he continued, every word laced with mockery and disgust.

He was getting closer with each step. There were only so many places to hide and judging by the fading noises of clutter being moved, all but one had been exhausted. He was going to find you and you were going to die.

At least you would be right about one thing.

Kylo Ren really was a liar.

“I never took you for a coward,” fingers drummed on the desk above you and it creaked as Atreus leaned his weight over the top, like a ship's hull as it kicked into hyperdrive.

He was so close now you could smell him, all artificial cologne and shoe polish. If you hadn’t been trying so hard to hold your breath before you certainly were now. His own came in calm, measured puffs and you closed your eyes tightly as if that could hide you any further. While your last moments alive and breathing wasted away, you recalled all the times the Commander had called you arrogant or prideful or any other combination of synonyms that all meant the same damn thing: foolish.

Before you might have called it confidence. Might have thought he and all your other superiors were simply threatened by their inability to tear you down. Now you just kicked yourself for being cocky enough to leave your back turned.

“Seems I was mistaken, Ren.”

What?

You recoiled at the name and very nearly said the word aloud as your eyes flew open in shock. But the legs which came into view—unnervingly long and thin— and situated directly in front of the desk turned anything you might say to dust on your tongue.

Why was it, even at the moment of your imminent demise, that the Commander was inevitably mentioned?

Could you really not be executed for political gain in peace?

“I know you’re here. I can feel it,” he began but was interrupted by two more approaching footsteps and a blessedly familiar voice.

“No, I’m sorry sir, I’ve been away sampling catering options,” Lem’s soft, clear tone was more relieving that you’d care to admit.

You swore if you lived through the next five minutes, you’d apologize for every rude thing you’d ever said to him.

Well, all the rude things you’d been wrong about.

“You were in your office just before I left,” Gahl grumbled and stopped just outside the door, wrapping twice. “Atreus, are you quite finished in there? I’d rather not be late to dinner just because you’ve stained your tie.”

The creak of hinges nearly had you slamming your head into the desk in shock.

“No sir, I lent the space to our guest from the First Order,” Lem prattled nervously and you heard Atreus growl as he shifted in place.

“You shouldn’t be letting just anyone wander around here, Alba,” the advisor huffed before adding under his breath, “You never know what they might get into.”

“Really, you’re the one that suggested we invite—” Lem was drowned out by another soft knock and the creaking of a door across the hall.

You didn’t bother tuning into what Gahl had been mumbling about as Atreus’s knees slowly bent and you were once again filled with the rush of dread at the prospect of being discovered. At best you’d be labeled as a conspirator and sent back to the Finalizer for Hux to have you killed himself for destroying Order relations to Coruscant. At worst, you were destined to die on the goddamn floor at the feet of a greasy, poor excuse for an advisor.

But in fact, neither of those options played out.

Instead, you found the world going black for just a split second—no more than a blink—and when you woke it was to a hand gently rocking your shoulder.

You bolted upright, startled to find yourself no longer cramped on the floor, but seated in Lem’s office. There was a small puddle of drool on the desk and Lem himself staring down at you, brows knit in concern.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

But you didn’t respond right away, just looked wide-eyed out the door as Atreus rose from the floor and met your gaze with his own indecipherable expression.

From beside you, Lem squeezed your shoulder again and you turned to face him.

“Yes, sorry,” you muttered, shrugging away from him and rolling your neck. Every joint and muscle in you felt stiff. “I must have dozed off a bit.”

“I can see that,” he chuckled but his face never lost it’s questioning look.

“Right, well,” you continued, hastily gathering your things. The air felt thick and stuck in your throat. You wanted to get out—needed to get out—immediately. “Thank you for the office, I’ll be on my way and send the drafts to you later this evening.”

Passing by Gahl at the doorway, you gave him a friendly nod and a quiet, “Representative, I hope you have a lovely evening.”

You were nearly out of the wing entirely when that god awful voice sunk it’s claws into your leg again.

“Oh, but you must join us for dinner,” Atreus hummed.

He had sauntered back out to stand behind the Representative and was pinning you down with a horrifically sweet smile. It was so wrong on his face you shuddered at the sight. Gahl, annoyingly, nodded along as he looked you up and down.

“A good suggestion,” he said heartily. The redness of his cheeks and the slight sway in his step suggested he’d had more than just one drink before returning. “We haven’t had the chance to speak much since you came.”

Shit. That bastard knew you couldn’t refuse a personal invitation lest you run the risk of seeming rude or suspicious when you were here to supposedly mend ties. Gahl might have been drunk enough to forget the impasse but Atreus was not as dimwitted.

“Well, I suppose I can’t refuse such a kind invitation,” you gritted out as politely as possible.

Gahl clapped once, loudly and turned back, calling to Lem, “Wonderful! Lem my boy, you’ll meet our friend in the lobby, yes?”

“Of course,” he said, blonde head popping out of the doorway and offering you a sympathetic smile. “You can go drop your things off and change if you’d like, I’ll wait for you.”

You sighed and flashed a hopefully convincing grin at the three men, “Thank you, I shall see you momentarily.”

With that you tried your best not to turn and bolt, but waited at least until you got three corridors down before collapsing to the floor in a pile of stuttering breaths and shaking hands. You tucked your head between your knees and tried to inhale deeply. The insides of your head pounded with the slick, viscous sound of Atreus’s words. The only thing that pulled you to your feet again was the insistent need to get as far away from it as possible.

The hallways blended together as your feet carried you father and father from the offices, the Representative, and your almost murderer. You had hoped your room would offer some reprieve from the panic, that there may be someone waiting for you inside to spin comforting lies of safety.

There was not.

The room contained nothing but freshly made sheets and a white blotch on the wall where a hole had been patched.

Nothing at all to indicate the Commander had set foot there since your return.

You considered calling for him briefly. It had worked before, and the shame of crawling behind his hulking form to hide away was incredibly alluring. But instead you found yourself discarding your jacket and top in favorite of something slightly more upscale. The clothes landed in a pile by the bed where you sat for a moment.

With the door and several floors of high rise architecture between you and that slimy bastard of an advisor, you thought again about what your second dive into espionage had dredged up.

‘In his head’, Atreus said you were in his head long before you ever came on this assignment. Kylo had bristled at the words, shut you down quickly and you were used to secrets—you had many yourself—so you knew one when you saw it.

Bond.

The word rolled around in your skull, burned on your eyelids in that awful, messy script.

It hurt to think about.

Physically hurt, like someone was digging needles into your spine.

So you didn’t think about it.

Not yet.

Instead, you finished fixing your outfit and walked back out of the empty room. There were answers and you would find them, but it was clear you’d have to get them on your own. So you let the door click shut behind you and took a deep breath. It was just dinner. You could do dinner and you would get your answers.

On your own.

****

The food looked painted onto the plate, contrasting colors and lovingly set out, but tasted like sawdust in your mouth. A shame too, it smelled better than anything you’d been served yet on Coruscant and was certainly a hundred times more extravagant than anything the Finalizer’s cafeterias stocked.

But having the man who was seconds away from killing you just a short hour ago stare diagonally across the table with his corpse like eyes every time you moved did quite the number on your appetite.

Thankfully, Lem was seated in front of you and had been prattling away for most of the meal, leaving you with little silence to fill. Part of the way through your fourth or fifth wood-chip bite, Gahl decided to change that. His voice was low and grated with age as he turned in the seat beside you to speak.

“So, how are you enjoying your stay on Coruscant?” he asked, inching his leg out of the chair and closer to yours.

“You’ve been very hospitable, Representative, I have absolutely no complaints,” you lied through your teeth, smile just as purposefully arranged as the food in front of you.

Gahl’s hand patted your thigh just as he’d done at your first meeting, “Glad to hear it, I’m sure it’s nothing like those Star Destroyers.”

You cursed every social rule of polite society which kept you from putting your knife through his hand.

“It’s certainly a change of pace,” you mumbled around another flavorless mouthful. “Lem has been a wonderful guide.”

In fact, you would give anything to be surrounded once again with nothing but bland, grey durasteel and the eyes of officers who were more than happy to pretend you didn’t exist. You’d even take standing in General Hux’s office, watching his ginger head flit about between sifting through files and insulting your diction in reports. If the Commander would even bother to look your way, you would have taken his cold, inaccessible stare over this as well.

As your thoughts drifted further in the direction of Kylo Ren, another chilling voice joined the conversation.

“Oh, don’t feel the need to flatter him,” Atreus chose that moment to chime in, scoffing into his napkin. “No doubt Alba’s simply talked your ear off about his low class, wait staff dalliance.”

Lem bristled, cheeks a comical pink with rage, “He has a name.”

“Well, I’m sure he does, but I simply do not care to learn it,” Atreus sipped his drink and scowled. “You shouldn’t be fraternizing with the servers at all, it’s unbecoming of an aide to the Representative.”

Across the table, Lem deflated and looked between you and Gahl. You were given the distinct impression this was not a new topic of conversation.

“He’s right about that my boy, you can buy whoever you like now on the salary I pay you,” the Representative chuckled and downed the contents of his glass.

“I’m sure our guest would agree,” Atreus’ eyes were trained on the plate but you felt his gaze on you all the same.

“Relationships between superiors and subordinates are...frowned upon in the Order, I suppose.”

You only caught a glint of the light off Lem’s slicked yellow hair as he turned toward the man beside him.

“Certainly but it must happen,” he said.

“Of course it does,” Atreus looked at you then, the blue of his iris was so light it nearly blended into the whites. “But it would be quite a dangerous predicament, especially somewhere like the Order, would it not?”

You were sure to keep your face blank and unassuming, though it was either much less convincing than you believed it to be or Atreus was actively capable of hearing the panicked screaming of your internal monologue.

“Yes, yes it would be,” you nodded and looked back down to the table.

“Particularly with someone of your standing, working directly under the General, I can only imagine the implications of a relationship with anyone high enough to be your senior.”

You could feel your eye twitch and your jaw tense almost against your will, as if Kylo Ren himself was choosing this very moment to inhabit your body. Really, you almost wished that he would, especially with his aggravating ability to remain completely unreadable in even the most stress inducing of situations. But alas, the only part of you Kylo inhabited was your mind in the form of an incredibly inappropriate slew of evidence for your so-called ‘dangerous predicament.’

“Hm,” you hummed quietly in agreement, hoping he’d drop the subject. “It would be quite unsightly, I’m certain.”

Meanwhile, Lem stared at you incredulously and hurriedly excused himself from the table mumbling something about the restroom. His blonde head quickly disappeared into the crowd and you were left alone with the Representative and his advisor, a pit developing in your stomach. And it was only made deeper by the muted betrayal in Lem’s parting tone.

“The boy has always been too sensitive,” Gahl offered by way of explanation and Atreus nodded slowly.

“He cracks too easily under scrutiny. He should know by now that softness is not a very useful trait in this line of work.”

You frowned and shifted in your seat, swiftly moving the Representatives gnarled hand from your leg.

“Some amount of give is crucial in politics,” you said, gaze flicking between the two men. “It’s important to be able to bend to your adversary every so often. Being underestimated by your opponent often means you’ve been unwittingly awarded the high ground.”

Gahl laughed heartily again as you excused yourself as well, though Atreus remained stony calm even when you glanced back between the sea of tables and waiters and expensive suits.

Lem emerged from a side door not long after you’d posted yourself in the short, empty hallway leading to the restrooms. He would have walked straight past you if not for your hand swiftly yanking him back by the arm.

“Wait,” you hissed as he turned to face you huddled in one of the doorways.

“What?” he hissed back.

Well. That was a fair enough question, though you hadn’t exactly thought that far.

Lem stared at you with brows furrowed, obviously less than thrilled with how things were left off. A small part of your mind, which you were more than happy to bury and ignore, whispered that you ought to apologize. But that was most certainly not why you came after him.

No, leaving the table was simply to punctate your last statement.

Not because some part of you felt...guilty.

Absolutely not.

In fact, this was a perfect opportunity to do some more digging. Lem was your pseudo-informant and that was all.

Right.

That was certainly why the following words left your mouth in a tumble.

“Are you okay?”

Lem paused as you let your hand fall from his arm, shuffling back so he could stand out of sight in the door frame across from you. He still looked cross, but his lips quirked up just a bit. You supposed he’d asked you the same so many times in just the last day, it would be appropriate for you to return the favor.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “That was by no means a new conversation.”

“Under different circumstances, I would have been a bit more…” you trailed off and Lem offered you a signature toothy smile.

“Appearances and all, I get it. Atreus uses any excuse he can find to bring up Jane since he caught us a week or so before you got here,” Lem sighed, running a hand through his neat hair.

“Who?”

The look you received was even more incredulous than before.

“Jane, my—”

“Right, the waiter,” you nodded and raised your hands in apology, “so, why exactly does it matter who you’re seeing?”

Lem shook his head, “It doesn’t really, since I’m just an aide, but I’m fairly convinced he’s been trying to get rid of me since he was brought on.”

A gaggle of restaurant staff rushed past to the bar where a woman was loudly complaining about her food. You welcomed the attention her display drew away from you.

“Oh, he wants me gone too,” you muttered and quickly waved off the comment when Lem leveled you with another confused glance. “Any particular reason why?”

He shrugged and hunched over so he could lower his voice, “Not sure, but I do know he’s been butting his greasy head in whenever the opportunity presents itself. He climbed the ranks quicker than most of the other staffers.”

Now that was interesting. Bless Lem and his affinity for gossip.

“That seems odd,” you frowned. “I hadn’t heard of him until this assignment, and I like to think I’m fairly well informed.”

Lem scoffed and peered over his shoulder as if he would find Atreus there, breathing down his neck, “I’m sure you are. He just happened to materialize one day, determined to take my job.”

Yes and your life as well, but Lem needn’t know about that.

“Strange.”

“Yes it is,” he replied. “And they’ll think the same if we’re gone much longer.”

You nodded and watched him turn to merge back into the crowd, but he paused halfway into the hall.

“Thank you,” he said simply and slipped away, past the bar and into the waves of diners.

You waited another few minutes after Lem disappeared, and allowed yourself a small, secret smile. If for no other reason than your success at finally piecing together some information about the spiraling mess your life had become. But mostly at the rosy cheeked and chuckling sincerity that alleviated some of the uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach.

And you found the food a little less like chalk, the nerve wracking stares and inappropriate touches a little more bearable the rest of the night.

***

The elevator ride back to your room was far more excruciating than any of the other unpleasant encounters you’d experienced that day. At least when you were cowering on the floor making peace with the fast approaching end to your mortal body, you couldn’t feel the bearer of your death breathing down your neck.

It was so uncomfortable, you actually wished that the touch-happy, drunken Representative had tagged along instead of staying back till last call at the bar. Your heartbeat racketed up three times its normal rate when Lem pressed the button for his room a few floors below yours instead of riding back with Atreus to the office suites.

“Did you want to discuss my notes for a bit?” you asked, trying and somewhat failing to keep the desperation out of your voice.

Lem looked at you with a strange expression on his face, nose turning a darker shade of pink than usual, “Oh, ah, another time maybe. I have, um, someone waiting for me.”

From behind, Atreus scoffed.

“Truly, you are shameless, Alba,” he said and you heard him shift behind you.

“Right,” you wanted to push the issue harder, but it would be worse if Atreus suspected you knew anymore about his plot than he already did. “I’ll see you later in the week then.”

The panel above the transparent sliding doors rang and Lem stepped out into the hall, “Yes, well not too long till the big reveal, so I’m certain we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

The soft hiss of the doors closing again reverberated in your bones like the thunking of an executioner's blade. You swallowed as your tongue turned to stone in your mouth. There were only a handful of floors in between before your stop but that would be more than enough time to maim your body beyond recognition and throw it down the incinerator shaft.

You reminded yourself sternly that it was unlikely Atreus would exact whatever assassination plan he had in place in such a secluded space, but fear responses were not easily reasoned with.

Atreus remained resolutely out of your line of sight and that only made the deep, instinctual part of your brain howl for you to run, claw, bite. Oh if only it were that simple, there would surely be far fewer aggravating superior officers in your life.

The numbers on the panel moved far more slowly than you thought they ought to. With every extended second you spent in that horribly cramped lift, the air grew thicker with tension and the rancid smell of panic. Finally, finally, the panel flashed your floor number and the doors moved aside to reveal the beautiful sight of an empty hallway. But just before you crossed the threshold to freedom, an iron grip clamped hard down on your wrist.

“So sorry to keep you,” Atreus began and you spun to face him. “It has only just occurred to me I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss anything with you regarding the Representative and the subject matter of your speech.”

He really had to wait until now to do this, now when escape was dangling over your head like an unfortunate prisoner hanging over the maw of a hungry sarlacc.

“Yes, well Lem has been providing council with respect to the Order’s representation of Representative Gahl in all our official statements,” you replied calmly.

The slightest twitch of your hand revealed a shocking amount of force hidden in the advisor's lanky arms. You stuck your foot back as the doors began to close, unable to bear another minute trapped behind them.

“Of course, I simply wouldn’t want you being led astray by any of Alba’s short comings,” the grip on your wrist tightened almost imperceptibly, “I’d like to work more closely with you as we approach the first campaign endorsements.”

“Certainly,” you forced a tight smile in his direction. “I would greatly appreciate your input.”

The words sliced your lips as they tumbled out. You were accustomed to lying, yes, but stars that was potentially the least believable statement that had ever left your mouth.

“I’m sure.”

Staring hard into his dead man’s eyes, you tried not to breathe a sigh of relief as he unfurled his fingers from your wrist. Stepping back clumsily into the hall you waited until the doors hid his cheap imitation of a smile before you heading down the hall to your room. Better he not know which turn you took.

You ran the rest of the way back.

The tightness in your chest subsided by degrees the farther you got to safety and you didn’t even bother denying to yourself the hope that your Commander in all his black cloaked, looming glory would be waiting to stand between you and the reality waiting just outside.

You really should have known better than to put any faith in his promises.

“Kylo?” you whispered into the empty room.

He didn’t answer. Of course he didn’t, and maybe that was the only reason you were brave enough to call out for him.

There was a familiar black bag propped in the corner by your luggage which indicated Ren had at least returned to the Federal District at some point during the evening. That at least was something of a comfort, though a very small one.

You grabbed one of the chairs from the table and shoved it securely back under the door handle. It scrapped against the floor and your shin throbbed as you kicked it in place. Once again the clothes on you wore seemed to have been permeated with whatever disgusting, oily sheen that leaked off of the absolute slug of a man currently puttering around in his office planning the best way to choke the life out of you. They itched and stung and you tugged at them quickly, pulling each item off in a flurry like coals blistering your bare skin.

Free from the growing pile of discarded laundry you dug around through your cases. Your hands still shook as you scattered the contents, pulling on fresh bottoms that didn’t reek of lies and aftershave. You paused as your fingers brushed against something far softer than any of your Order regulation garments.

Large, flowing, and predictably black, Kylo Ren’s undershirt hung in your hands like a shroud.

You battled with your instincts. Half of you—the portion still living in the past where hatred was a simple comfort—wanted to ball it up and stomp it full of dusty boot prints. That side did not win and its screaming reduced considerably as the shirtsleeves made their way down your arms. You were enveloped immediately in a sense of sheer relief coupled with the feeling that what you were doing was profoundly reckless.

But even if it was a false sense of security, your hands and knees were not shaking as badly as before.

The Commander was intimidating and cold, but in addition he was intimidating and cold and standing resolutely between you and danger which was more than you could say for just about any other coworker.

You supposed he was probably a bit more than that now.

Eyes shut, you recalled the warm, full feeling of his approval upon seeing you in his clothes. The way it rushed through you and pulsated when he let his voice echo in your head. You wondered what it felt like for him. Was your voice a grating nuisance or was it a tingle at the back of his neck, the shiver of cool hands or maybe the surge after a well won battle.

How did he do it, you wondered. How did it feel to read you so easily? To know all your doubts and fears and micro-defiances before they left your mouth. And how did he remain so resolutely aloof?

Even now, as you tensed your jaw and tried to focus on the smell of him surrounding you and conjure his presence, there was nothing but dead air. You sighed and let your knees thunk down to the floor.

Unsurprisingly, it seemed that Kylo Ren only appeared when he wanted to, only answered your thoughts when it suited him. You could scream his name into the void of your mind but you couldn’t force him there—couldn’t Force him there. Which was unfortunate for many reasons. Being capable of wielding the throat crushing, invisible fabric of the universe at your will would have come in handy in so many situations. As you rubbed your eyes and prepared to wallow more thoroughly in the mess your life had devolved into, something caught your eye amongst the sea of clothing.

From the Commander’s open bag, you could see something brighter amongst the masses of black fabric. Further inspection revealed that the item was shoved into the back pocket of his trousers and when you looked closer, it was clear what you were looking at.

Your underwear.

Your underwear was hidden away in Commander Ren’s luggage.

And in your half shocked, half strangled endeared state, a memory surfaced.

The night you’d spent writhing on your bed as Kylo sat, watching as the Force fucked you open. The image of him was clear in your head—a princely, demonic being refusing you the luxury of pleasure through his touch and taking your soaked panties along as a trophy when he was finished with you.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

You’d thought it was a dream then.

And wasn’t it? The lines between waking and fantasy were blurring more and more with every passing day. But Kylo hadn’t left. He was there when you woke, that you did recall clearly. But these were the same, still unwashed from all those nights ago.

Kylo had said there was a difference between dreaming and projecting, and to be fair you’d never been able to tell them apart. The Force was somehow involved. The same Force which seemed to have a questionable relationship with existing inside you. But it stood to reason, if someone as incompetent and disconnected as you could think yourself into Kylo Ren’s presence on very specific occasions, that he could do so whenever the hell he wanted.

And while the implications this knowledge had on all your other sexual escapades was at the forefront of your mind and burning your face to a crisp, another inkling was forming amongst the embarrassment.

If the Commander truly had projected himself—whatever that really meant—into your room to fuck you into oblivion without lifting a finger and kept what he’d taken, maybe you could do the same.

Maybe, sitting inside your coat pocket was your own dream contraband.

Crawling across the floor, you sifted through the mess at the foot of the bed until your hand felt something small and hard. Your breath stuttered in your chest as you pulled a familiar leather bound notebook from the pile and turned it over in your grip—hefty and solid and so very real in your hands.

Staring down at the book you were at once intensely excited and overwhelmingly terrified. Logically, you knew that you were alone here and free from prying eyes no matter how desperately you wished not to be, but delving into what promised to be the source for so many of your questions felt too risky in the open of your bedroom.

Quietly, you leaped over the bed and scrambled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and sliding down to the floor. Only then, with your back barricading you in with the tile cooling your heated skin, did you crack open the cover and begin to read the sloppy, looping scrawl across each page.

A picture began to form in your mind growing clearer with every passing page.

It was very much like reading the ramblings of a madman, and upon passing the first ten or so pages, your initial deduction of mad ravings only grew more accurate. The entries were similar to that of a diary, each one detailing a new piece of intel discovered. And just as you’d noted before, almost all of it had something to do with Kylo Ren.

And you’d thought you were a bit obsessive.

There were names you didn’t recognize, and some you did—members of the Order, high ranking and not, scattered about. Occasionally passages were quoted from what seemed to be incident reports and older texts of galactic history. And of course, there were consistent references to the ever mysterious Force. All of which were written in such personal detail that you could be certain they came from someone who, unlike you, could and knew how to use it.

The words were so jumbled, you had to reread each line and follow it like a hunting trail to the next running sentence. And the farther you got, the deeper you dived, the more you felt your insignificance looming—that tight in your throat feeling of being so small in the grand scheme of things.

In this scheme of things at least.

From what you could understand, all the events leading up to your assignment to Coruscant and everything that had transpired since your arrival all boiled down this: power and the struggle to possess it.

And at the center of it all was Atreus, Kylo Ren, and, inexplicably, you.

In this story, you began as nothing more than another pawn on the chess board. Your name appeared maybe twice in the entire first half of the nearly full notebook. You were a footnote, a name scribbled in the margins connected to the General due to your position. After that, it seemed Atreus had gotten his hands on some more confidential documents, dozens of them in fact judging from his lists. Some were immaterial and contributed nothing, but from what you could gather, buried amongst them were dozens of your correspondence all pertaining to the Commander and all of which more than hinting at the small grudge you carried for him.

He’d even quoted lines from you.

As you progressed, the text became even more garbled, the handwriting rushed and nearly illegible but it was easy enough to see where it was heading.

You were meant to be an example—of that you were certain. But not for the First Order, not because one Coruscanti representative wanted to stick it to its totalitarian overlords. Oh no, the threat of your death was meant as an example to Kylo Ren himself. It was a message, a lure, cast down from Atreus. When you first began to piece this together, it sounded intensely nonsensical.

Almost entirely due to the fact that this plan hinged on Commander Ren of all people, having a vested interest in your life. Which, up until very recently, you would have deemed impossible. If anything, you’d have guessed he would greatly benefit from your demise seeing as you were at best an annoyance and at worst a roadblock between him and forceful galactic takeover.

But then you reached that word.

Bond.

Scribbled over and bolded with arrows and circles. You still couldn’t truly grasp the gravity of what it meant, but looking it over again, you knew it was true. Whatever this thing was, between you and your Commander, this was its name. And having read the journal in its entirety, you understood now why that singular word had struck you so thoroughly to your core.

“You aren’t going to die.”

How many times had Kylo said that to you now?

And it was constructed to bring your downfall. This was exactly what it seemed Atreus was banking on. It seemed all this want, all this hypothermic, desperate searching for one another was manufactured. The sense of wholeness, a sham. The pit inside you, the anger, the balm of Kylo moving inside you—all orchestrated somehow to fit into this master plan to remove the Commander and take whatever he was standing in the way of.

Without this, you would have remained a nuisance swearing at Ren from across conference tables. Nothing more than a bug to be smashed against the wall and left to rot. And that sat terribly on your shoulders.

Just as the book fell from your hands and onto the tile floor, you heard a familiar rattling coupled by a crash from the room just outside. Heavy footsteps rang out against the floor and a door slammed.

Your name was called softly into the stillness. Just as you had called for him. A few moments of silence passed before you could answer, and when you did your voice felt strange in your mouth.

“In here,” you replied quietly, listening to his foot falls approach the door and come to a halt.

When you closed your eyes, you could almost hear his breath. Kylo paused at the door, the soft thump of his hand coming to rest against the wood the only other sound he made. You didn’t move from the floor and he made no attempt to open the door. The tingle at the back of your neck, the slight tugging of your strings, told you he could feel the thoughts racing in your head.

Only minutes ago you would have been relieved to feel the warm of him spreading slowly down your spine. Now it felt strangely soured. For a moment you thought he might rip open the door, maybe bend you over the vanity again and teach what happened when you called for him out line.

But he didn’t.

When you didn’t shift from your spot to step into his grasp, you felt him pull away and heard the rustling of sheets and clothing outside. You didn’t know what you would say to him now, so instead you got up slowly and turned the water on. The mirror fogged over as you stripped and tucked the little notebook away under your clothes so the steam didn’t seep into the pages.

You could wash now, you thought, and hopefully Kylo would have fallen asleep or left to stalk the halls again when you finished. Then you could buy yourself some time to think, unbothered by other prying eyes in your head.

You stepped into the stream and scrubbed your skin raw, and all while the little black book watched you from its place on the sink, ever plotting.

---------------------------

Taglist lovelies: @couldntfuckingtellya @contesa-lui-alucard @thewilddingleberries @isaxhorror @cowboy-kylo @findyourdarkness @kit-jpg @shesakillerkween @obsessionprofessional

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x female reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fic #reader insert #kylo ren is not nice #kylo ren angst #dr. b writes #dr. b talks

48 notes · View notes

edelwoodsouls · 3 years

Text

maybe in another universe - ch. 1 [fic]

Jon isn’t expecting anything good when he’s evacuated to the countryside. Living with his crush rival he can just about handle. The secret magical world in the upstairs wardrobe, on the other hand, might just break him.

AKA: Narnia AU

Word Count: 2,707 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: 2,

chapter one: the train to everywhere

As the train leaves the station, Jon doesn't look back.

The corridors outside his carriage are filled with other kids, craning their necks out of the windows to wave at their parents, tears streaming down their faces. It's a mess of loud noise and emotion that makes Jon wholly uncomfortable.

There's no one for him to look back to, no one to share tears with. No one to yell at him, you'll be home before you know it! and have fun, dear! it's okay!

He curls his arms around his suitcase and stares out the opposite window, at the vanishing buildings. Smoke shimmers over the horizon, mixing with the clouds, and Jon tries to imagine the view from above. When the planes fly overhead, do they recognise the smothered lights flickering below? Do they spare a thought for the bodies on the other side of the flames?

The corners of his suitcase begin to dig painfully into his skin.

Before he can spiral any further, the door to the compartment rattles open with a sudden gunshot sound that sets every nerve in his body alight.

He flinches and turns to see a girl roughly his own age, head swathed in a dark blue hijab, pressing her lips in an apologetic line.

"Sorry," she shrugs noncommittally, inclining her head. "Is that seat taken?"

"Uh, no."

"So I can take it?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks." She shoulders her way into the room, heaving her own suitcase up onto the rack above their heads with an easy movement. Jon grips his own sheepishly - several blows to the head have taught him that he is nowhere near strong enough to haul it up that high.

The girl settles into the seat opposite him, retrieves a book from the recesses of her thick navy trench coat. It's a weathered copy of The Iliad, well-thumbed and annotated.

He's leaning forward curiously before he can help himself.

The girl looks up with raised eyebrows. "Nosy much?"

"Sorry," he shrinks back behind the large bulk in his lap. "I just- I used to have that same copy. Before..."

The girl's face softens, infinitessimly. "It's one of my favourites," she offers, almost apologetically. "I started keeping all my books in the shelter a few months ago. It's the only reason this survived."

Jon says nothing - there's nothing he can really say. In this moment, they are just two strangers, sharing a burning world.

"I'm Basira," the girl says, with a decisive look. "I'm from Finchley, being evacuated to Dorset. You?"

"Uh- same," Jon blinks, surprised. "I'm Jon. I've- I've never seen you before?"

"I mean, I imagine you go to the boys' school."

"Not until last year."

"Oh."

Jon glances down at his hands, hoping Basira can't see the way his fingers are white-knuckled against his suitcase.

"Well, I was new before-" she waves her arms vaguely, "all this. Home-schooled. So not really surprising."

"Oh." Slowly, one by one, Jon allows his muscles to relax. "That must've been nice. Quiet."

"That's one word for it," Basira mutters in a way that implies a hundred other meanings than nice. "I was really looking forward to actually getting to know people, y'know? New people, my own age."

"Well, you know me now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."

Jon tries for a smile, but it comes out as something more of a grimace. All the same, Basira seems to get the sentiment, and returns it.

~/~/~/~

Martin hates trains.

In theory, they're the perfect vessel. Hours of uninterrupted time, the world moving beneath your feet as you curl into a seat with a hot cup of tea and your favourite paperback.

But he hasn't been on a train since his mother sent him away to London, and that sort of memory tends to leave one with a distaste by association.

Now here he is, only a few years later, being sent away again.

He's just glad his mother refused to take him in. He's not sure he could bear going back to that house, potentially indefintiely.

All the same, he's trying to make the best out of the journey that he can. He's heard horror stories of other evacuees, forced to work on farms or taken in only to be used for their ration cards. If that's the sort of fate he's headed for, he'll take the luxury of a nice cuppa and the drafting of a few poems whilst it's still there.

And he really is in the perfect place for it. The smouldering London skyline behind him, the fathomless countryside ahead. A world in flux and chaos, defined in fire and water.

He notes that down in his journal.

"Any good thoughts?" Melanie asks through a mouthful of sandwich.

Martin blinks up at the girl sharing his compartment, an embodiment of chaos if ever he's seen one. She's lying across the seats opposite him, her suitcase open and contents strewn everywhere - she'd been digging through it to find something inane which turned out to be in her pocket the whole time, and hasn't bothered to pack it up again.

Martin's hands itch to tidy the space - instead he grips his pen a little too hard and settles for a quzzical smile.

"Your writing," she points with the corner of her sandwich. "You look very deep in concentration and dramatic. Any good thoughts?"

"I suppose," he shrugs, retreating somewhat under Melanie's energetic gaze. "Something about dichotomies. Peace and war, fire and water. City and country."

"Men and women, nurse and soldier. Alive and dead."

Martin raises an eyebrow. "I guess."

"Hey- if there's any time to be morbid, it's during a war, dontcha think?"

"True. Do you write?"

"Nope. I do photography, though."

Martin can feel himself getting interested despite himself. "Really? Do you have a camera?"

Melanie nudges at the pile of clothes somehow still heaped in the boundaries of her suitcase, revealing the packaging of a beautiful, sleek camera piece that makes Martin fall a little in love with this stranger instantly.

"Is that a Retina I?" he asks, unable to quite keep the awe out of his voice.

"You really know your tech," Melanie says approvingly. "Yeah, it is. I'm going to be a supernaturalist."

"A what?"

"A supernaturalist, Martin. I'm going to be the first person to prove that ghosts exist. I'm going to get one on film."

"Huh."

Martin deliberately avoids Melanie's eyes. To believe in the supernatural is not generally approved of, let alone to talk about it with the sudden reverence and conviction that have crept into Melanie's voice.

He's gotten very used to pretending he's never seen anything out of the ordinary. The smoke that follows him around like a shadow, the spiders that seem to understand him just a little too intelligently - they all have mundane explanations.

He's never met someone so open about such things.

He lasts a matter of seconds before his tongue gets the better of him. "What've you seen?"

Melanie grins, as if she's been waiting from the moment they met just for him to ask. "I got shot by a ghost."

Martin almost knocks over his tea. "I'm sorry?"

"I got shot by a ghost."

"Yeah, you said that already. What I meant to say was, what the fuck?"

Melanie looks delighted to have his attention. She reaches down and rolls her sock to her ankle, revealing a garish red scar screaming across her leg. "London's full of ghosts, if you hadn't noticed. They just love the chaos that's going on right now, always wandering all over the place when the streets are empty and everyone's hidden in their shelters."

"I'm guessing you're not one for shelters," Martin says dryly, attempting to smother the sheer confusion and excitement doing battle in his brain.

"Of course not," Melanie scoffs. "They won't let me enlist because I'm a girl, but, I mean, have you seen some of the boys in charge of Finchley's bomb clearance?"

"A lot of them were in the year above me at school," Martin nods. He could say far more bitter things, but he keeps his mouth shut.

"They're kids, just like us," Melanie nods, a furious look in her eyes. "I wouldn't trust them to protect me from a particularly vicious duck, let alone the end of days raining from the sky."

Martin grins in agreement. Despite initial perceptions, he's starting to like Melanie a lot.

A shame they'll only get to know each other for this one train ride, likely never to hear from each other again. Unless Melanie does actually become famous for photographing ghosts, and he becomes famous for his poetry, and maybe they'll meet at a gala sixty years from now and not recognise each other at all.

Martin mentally kicks himself out of that particular spiral. He's always had a problem with melancholy, and the world being on fire has hardly done anything to improve him.

He's convinced it's what makes him a good poet.

"Hey," he says, to distract himself. "Where are you being sent to?"

"Some professor," Melanie shrugs. "Probably a stuffy old bat who'll put you to work if she finds a single fingerprint in the dust. Academics are all the same, from what I've seen."

Martin looks down at his own tag, brown paper tied with fraying string, looped around his neck by a disinterested attendant at the posting office. He hasn't actually had the nerve to read the name yet.

His heart picks up. "Melanie... it's not Professor Gertrude Robinson, is it?"

~/~/~/~/~

"...But Patroclus called to his comrades with a loud shout: “Myrmidons, ye comrades of Achilles, son of Peleus, be men, my friends, and bethink you of furious valour, to the end that we may win honour for the son of Peleus, that is far the best of the Argives by the ships, himself and his squires that fight in close combat; and that the son of Atreus, wide-ruling Agamemnon, may know his blindness in that he honoured not at all the best of the Achaeans-"

"Achilles is such an idiot," Basira interrupts, rolling her eyes and flipping the coin in her palm in absent, distracted movements.

Jon raises an eyebrow and lowers the book. "I can stop, if you'd prefer."

"No, no, you're okay. You've got a surprisingly good voice for this stuff. I'm glad you suggested it."

They've been taking turns reading aloud, switching out every few pages to pass the time, since Jon has no books of his own. But Basira seems to have quickly decided that Jon is a born narrator and delegated all further reading to him.

He's been glowing faintly from the praise ever since.

The journey has flown by - as time often does when Jon's hyperfixations make an appearance - but for once he doesn't feel guilty about indulging it. Basira seems just as fascinated, somehow, and he greatly enjoys her interruptions.

"You don't think Achilles is an idiot?" she asks, crossing her legs and leaning forward intently.

"No, I definitely do- he sends his boyfriend out to fight a war he isn't prepared for just because of a grudge and then throws a tantrum when that hubris gets him killed. He's definitely an idiot."

"Oh good," Basira says, visibly relieved. "For a moment there I thought we were going to have to argue."

Jon laughs, and the sound comes easier than it has in a while. This realisation crawls under his skin, cutting the sound short. He looks out of the window for some semblance of escape-

"Hey! Look!" He points out at the approaching train station, a quaint thing, barely more than a slab of stone emerging from a field. But the sign, rusted as it is, reads the same as the looping handwriting on the label around his neck does.

"Oh joy," Basira sighs. "Countryside air and a new family who'll probably hate me."

"Where are you being sent?" Jon asks, more hopeful than he's willing to admit. "Maybe we'll be neighbours."

"The household of Professor Gertrude Robinson," she reads from her own label.

"So am I!" Jon's heart leaps high in his chest despite himself. "You know, if we're with a professor, she might- I mean, she probably isn't a rough work kind of person- so maybe... this won't be so awful after all?"

Of course, Jon has always had a habit of speaking too soon.

~/~/~/~/~

Gathering Melanie's discarded belongings is a predictably chaotic affair, but she executes it with the practiced air of someone who lives that way every day.

Martin can't decide whether he's excited or dreading living with this girl.

As soon as they sprawl out onto the platform with seconds to spare, Martin realises that Melanie's mess is the least of his worries.

Because perched on the station's only bench, face knitted into his iconic perpetual frown, eyes squinting against the sun, is Jonathan fucking Sims.

Next to his suitcase, and wearing a knitted jumper several sizes too big, he looks tiny. The tall hijabi girl standing on top of the bench, looking searchingly into the distant fields, only serves to exaggerate this.

Melanie notices the sudden drain in his skin immediately, and follows his gaze. "For fucks sake."

"You know him?" Martin asks faintly, resisting the urge to brush his hands through his hair, or smooth his clothes. Jon doesn't care what he looks like, doesn't care about him. He should've learnt back in primary school that being rivals isn't something to be romanticised.

But his heart doesn't seem to get the message as a stray gust of wind dances in Jon's dark hair, and it skips a beat.

"Do I know Jonathan fucking Sims?" Melanie grits out, heaving her suitcase roughly over one shoulder. "That guy is such a wanker. 'Ghosts are for idiots, Melanie. Just a romantic ideal made up by delusional people afraid of the dark.'"

"He's not that bad," Martin begins to protest before he can stop himself, "he's just been through a lot."

"Doesn't excuse him being a dick," Melanie grumbles. "Not to mention he used to date my girlfriend. Always having a disaster and blazing back into her life. What I wouldn't give for five minutes one on one, I'd teach him..."

Melanie goes on muttering under her breath, but Martin barely hears, because Jon has just met his eyes and nothing else in the world matters. There's surprise, then panic, before his expression settles back into a frown.

Martin sighs. It's not as if he should've expected anything else.

"Come on," he says to Melanie, picking up his suitcase. "We'd better get it over with."

The walk to close their distance seems to take hours, and somehow no time at all.

"Martin," Jon greets him with a clipped, emotionless tone.

"Hey, Jon," Martin smiles, refusing to let the other boy's walls get him down. "And you are?"

"Basira," the girl nods, still standing high above them and glancing distractedly towards the dirt path, likely looking for whoever will be along to pick up evacuees. "I guess you guys already know each other?"

"They go to school together," Melanie brushes off the explanation, before introducing herself, too. "Now we're all acquainted, how long before we never have to see each other again?"

Basira's eyes flick silently between the three of them, clearly noting the tension, but saying nothing.

"We're in the same house," Jon says stiffly. "I don't know about you two. I'm sure there are other benches you can loiter at."

"Well we're in the same house," Melanie shoots back, linking her arm with Martin and holding tight. She's a lot stronger than she looks.

An awful thought dawns on Martin, quickly encompassing and eclipsing anything else. "Where..." he swallows around his dry throat, "who are you guys with?"

Martin watches as Jon's eyes widen. Glance down at his own label, across at theirs, and back.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Martin wants to burrow into the ground and hide somewhere his blushing cheeks could never be seen. He shouldn't be surprised, really. This summer was already looking down, being far from London, living with strangers, adjusting to pretending to be whatever fit in most.

Living with the crush who hates his guts is somehow the only escalation that makes sense.

#the magnus archives #fanfiction #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #narnia au #own work #morgan writes

7 notes · View notes

lachlann-macnab · 3 years

Text

BDRP 2020 QUESTIONNAIRE

Your Name: Jean

Characters: Lachlann “Launchpad” MacNab

Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth. What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now?

Well, Launchpad is relatively new so he’s still pretty much the same as I envisioned him from the start-

-though I’ll admit that the idea of him having an enormous crush on Seamus/Scrooge was a surprise. I think it only took a couple of little chats with Sav and familiarizing myself with Seamus’ story for him to go “yes!! that’s the one I love!! let me at him!!”.

The funny thing is that it just kind of happened but also has a degree of canonicity to it; Granted, Ducktales ‘17 (the canon that got me into the Duckverse) didn’t delve a whole lot on the relationship those two have...but Ducktales ‘87 does and it’s fucking beautiful.

But I didn’t know that! I was just familiar with the newest canon -exploring the relationship led me to the older canon and I absolutely love it! I love the way the older version of LP is equal parts silly and capable and I try my best to express that nice balance on my interpretation.

And I wouldn’t have found that sweet spot if it hadn’t been for Sav and Seamus!

Pick another character (or the same character if you only have one) and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them going into the new year?

Oooh man, this is probably going to sound rude of me, but I want someone to call Launchpad out on his shit.

He is a happy-go-lucky man, he is positive, he does think the best of everyone right from the start, he is honest with that, but there’s also a degree of performativity to the way he interacts with people: he is a people pleaser and he’s also someone who avoids problems/confrotation when possible.

That leads to him having a hard time actually voicing what he thinks when things were serious. Launchpad will default to what he thinks is the most noble/the best option even if he actually hates it. He tries his best to be a reliable dude, but that pushes him to his limits every now and then -and he hates it, but will do it anyways.

I’d love for someone to notice that and point out his marthyr complex to him, or how hypocritical he can actually be when noone is looking.

Jun did an amazing job at that, with the whole Moon Market incident and that is part of why I love his characterization and- I could rant about how Jun and LP are actually similar, yet different, but I won’t.

Someone please bitchslap my idiot son and tell him to be honest with his feelings, maybe get him to confront his feelings of inadequacy, maybe get him to actually face his problems instead of running away from them, kthanxs.

Pick a thread or a plot that you’re proud of and talk about why you loved it.

I have three threads I absolutely love, each for different reasons:

*Cleanliness is next to... with Jun: Jun called my idiot son out on his ‘noble man’ act. Jun was not impressed with his efforts and pushed him to an actual mini-meltdown because Launchpad didn’t know what to do or say to try and make things better: Launchpad is so used to having his way around people that the moment someone was inmune to all his tricks he...lost it. Big time. And I loved it.

*Untitled with Eilonwy: Both of them clicked instantly and- oh, man, I can’t really express what I feel about it, but:

Launchpad feels an actual, honest, connection to Eilonwy in various ways: both of them are a little bit weird, both of them are learning, both of them were kind of kicked out their comfort zones, both of them love adventure, both of them are fearless (in different ways), but there’s also a curious father-daughter dynamic to them. Eilonwy lacked not only a father figure but also a general actual caring adult one and I guess that’s part of what draws her to LP, while LP is a naturally caring man who also, (betweem the two of us), loves feeling like a good-ish role model instead of the dude people tell you to avoid because he’s an idiot, he loves looking out for people, he loves being understood -and Eilonwy, surprisingly, understands him without even trying.

They are so very sweet, they just clicked and both of them learn new things with the other: both about themselves and the world. And I love it.

*Dressed to the nines with Seamus: a.k.a “the one in which Sav let me go absolutely fucking ham”: It began with a chat about the need of gratious fanservice involving Seamus wearing (and getting out of) a suit -but soon became something else thanks to the Halloween task.

We soon got the ball rolling and Black Annis happened in a stupidly organic way (her very modus operandi, I discovered kind of late during the creation, ties way too well with the thread’s title itself and I’ll never get over it), and the mix of terror and action just naturally pushed the rest of the plot into the catharsis Seamus needed after all the stuff he’s been through.

The thread gave us the opportunity to write some mindless comedy, some yearning, some tenderness, plenty of gore, blood, trauma, legit PTSD, then back to tenderness and silliness -while also mentioning and showing a good deal of the things that have made Seamus the man he currently is, with the pretty and the ugly of it.

I just think it was an amazing character exploration for both Seamus and Lachlann, and I enjoyed every bit of it. I love Sav’s writing, I love Seamus’ characterization, I love how naturally it all evolved, I love how Sav can casually bring something up while plotting and the thing just clicks into place, I love how we just kind of understand where things are going or where we want them to go. Sav’s just amazing at brainstorming and general writing and I feel really, really lucky to have the chance to write with her.

I have no choice but to stan, really.

And I could go on and on about how the thread pushed both Seamus and Lachlann towards some big character development, but I really don’t want to rant -so I’ll leave it like this.

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 strengths and talk about why you think it’s one of your strengths.

Gee, that’s a difficult one. I guess my strongest suit as of now would be Launchpad’s voice as a character -and I’m not only talking about dialogue.

I think everyone that has read any of my threads has noticed by now that the flow of the narration is an extension of how Launchpad himself feels and thinks: it’s chaotic and emotional, it can get self-conscious and snarky when he, himself, can’t, it brings some exposition while not breaking the simple, chaotic rythm of Launchpad per-se.

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 areas of improvement.

This is way easier for me to pinpoint, hah! I definitely need to work on the length of my posts: I know seeing paragraphs upon paragraphs upon paragraphs can make people tired or make them feel intimidated to interact.

I also need to work on organizing Launchpad’s chaotic thoughts. The narration does get long-winded and sometimes the progression from point A to point B is way too chaotic -so much so that actually erasing it all would make no impact on the overall narration.

Pick one of your plots, or even just a character, and come up with a list of 3-5 “mentor texts” where you can look for inspiration or research, then write a short (2-4 sentences) why you picked those texts.

Not texts per-se, but I think a good way to get a feel of Launchpad’s general vibe is to watch “Top Duck” from Ducktales ‘87 and/or “The Duck Knight Returns” and “Double-o-duck in: You only crash twice”; Those episodes do an amazing job in expressing his insecurities and passions.

Now, leaving the source material behind, I think a book he resonates with is “Oh, the Places You'll Go!” by Dr. Seuss -it’s fun, it’s simple and it has an overall heartwarming message: It kind of captures that sense of wonder, discovery and positivity Launchpad both has and wishes to offer other people.

Another inspiration of sorts for Launchpad is Ferry’s “Parties are for losers” series: First of all, I’ll admit I’m a sucker for the Strugatsky brothers and СТАЛКЕР, so it’s no surprise I’m in love with Ferry’s interpretation of the story; I see a little bit of LP in KT’s story, but also in Yura’s and, surprisingly, in Olga’s.

PAFL’s setting is different, yet similar, to the Soviet sci-fi original: it deals with some disenchantment, it’s far from idealistic, it’s rough, but it’s also full of wonder and adventure: there’s big risks, but there’s also a good deal of things that make things, if not better, a little bit less miserable for the characters -and sometimes that something that keeps them going is other’s presence. PAFL is, for me, the inspiration for adventures that aren’t always glamourous, simple, or happy, taken by characters that are far from perfect, that have the odds against them, that carry a whole lot of baggage and, yet, prevail.

And, finally, a last inspiration for Launchpad, my lovable idiot son, comes from probably the place one would expect the least: God of War (2018).

I’m also a sucker for God of War, sue me.

I know it may seem bizare, but the message of the game just clicks with LP -and before you start wondering how in hell Kratos could possibly inspire Launchpad just let me tell you: he doesn’t. Because it’s not about Kratos I’m refering to when I talk about that story! I’m actually thinking of Mimir!

I love him so much.

Mimir’s role on the game is multifacetic: he brings exposition and ocasional comedic relief, sure, but I see him as the heart of the interactions between Kratos and Atreus (Kratos’ son, for those who may not know). Kratos is emotionally repressed and keeps to himself a lot while Atreus is a bundle of joy, energy, curiosity and someone that doesn’t think ‘because I say so’ is a valid answer to things; Kratos and Atreus clash during the first part of the game even when they love one another in their very particular ways.

In comes Mimir.

Mimir(’s head) joins the party and takes upon himself to act as a bridge between emotional distant father and young naive fearless son and...things start working for the three of them! Kratos starts understanding Atreus! Atreus slowly understands his father’s worries and needs! They begin the story as (almost) complete strangers but by the end they have an actual bond thanks to Mimir’s constant pushing and interventions: Mimir is soft with Atreus but bold with Kratos, the man knows when to joke and throw some riské comments for the chaos of it, but he’s also the first to offer words of comfort and understanding.

The man becomes part of the family even when he isn’t related to them by blood, even going so far as to give a ‘no, take me instead!’ when presented with the opportunity by a pair of enemies, even when his whole story tells us that he thinks of the idea of dealing with those people (won’t say who, because spoilers) as worse than death -the man hates the mere idea of going back but doesn’t hesitate a second to offer himself as a sacrifice for his new family.

And, damn, that’s what I base my interpretation of Launchpad on. He’s not a part of the family per-se but he constantly acts as a bridge between the youngest and more idealistic parts of it and the jaded, older, tired one; He’s happy to be comedic relief but will also sit and give anyone a pep talk when absolutely necessary -he knows his limitations but keeps trying and offering his best for those he cares about. He tries to be the heart.

I’m emotional about a disembodied head, don’t touch me. Play God of War (2018), it’s fucking amazing.

And now, a wishlist!:

I’m...actually up for everything and anything, really. I’d love some adventures, but I also love the more mundane interactions, I love the heavier topics but also the silly moments.

I guess, as I said before, the one thing I’d really love is for someone to push Launchpad to be honest about his feelings. Also a plot about him either considering to or actually flying again -those, however, will happen in due time and I have no rush to make ‘em.

Why do you RP?

Short explanation?: I love writing and reading.

Longer explanation?: I love writing and reading, I love complex characterizations, I love exploring new ideas and seeing how little plot bunnies become full fledged plots and/or character explorations or bring some character development, I love how that creates a domino effect with the rest of the cast. I love to see things happen: I love watching from afar as other’s characters learn lessons, create and conect-

-also, I write and read all day, everyday: that’s my job. I do script revisionism and organizational comunication. During work hours I have to check the flow of words, tones, and overall intentions; I have to do my best to make sure someone’s idea fits the box, but RPing gives me the opportunity to take the box and toss it out of the window. RPing gives me the chance to write freely, to write silly, to be imperfect and not worry about going from A to B or dealing with a checklist or tones, intentions or other’s ideas.

It’s just freeing. And that’s why I do (and love) it.

#bdrptask #/warning: long read ahead #/80% of this is me fanboying about other's writing; tbh

4 notes · View notes

everythinggodofwar · 5 years

Text

The Treasure of Koninsgard (part 10)

“Sigyn.. Sigyn?”

Atreus’ voice and his snapping in front of Sigyn’s zoned out eyes pulled her out of her daze. Her eyes lit up with attention and looked up at him like she didn’t know why he was doing that. “What?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine... Why?”

“You wouldn’t respond for a minute.”

“Oh..” she shook her head and looked around at the familiar surroundings of the realm between realms. “Sorry... this place just brings back bad memories.”

“Oh..” He glanced at Kratos, who was waiting impatiently for Sigyn to show them how to get to her home. “Do you.. need to talk about it?”

“Another time, boy.. We should remain focused.” Kratos reminded the both of them. “We are here. Do what you must.”

“Right..” Sigyn nodded and pulled the little wooden bear out of her pocket. She tried to twist it open like she’d always done; she tried and tried, but the thing wouldn’t budge. “Ugh.. it’s stuck.. could you -um- would you mind-”

“Mm.” Kratos groaned impatiently and took the object.

“You just-” Sigyn began to explain it, but Kratos seemed to get the idea as he just popped it open. “Yep. Thank you.”

She motioned for Atreus and Kratos to stand back as she set the stone on the ground.

“Watch this.” She said with a smirk. “Stefna.”

Atreus watched with excitement as the stone lit up like a star and began to spin until it was airborne and carving the magic doorway out of thin air.

“Good thing we didn’t leave that in Koninsgard!” Atreus exclaimed.

“Yeah..” Sigyn’s eyes shifted away as she grew thoughtful. “Good thing..”

Atreus glanced at her, taking note of her apparent discomfort. Kratos did too..

Sigyn shook her head and held out her hand to catch the stone when its light dimmed and it fell from the air. Without a word she stuck the travel stone back in its hidden compartment, put the bear back together around it, and shoved it in her pocket. “Let’s go.”

Sigyn was the first to step through the portal; Atreus followed without hesitation.

“Boy!” Kratos lunged and reached out to stop Atreus from rushing in without caution, but wasn’t quick enough. “Rrnn.”

“It’s alright, brother.” Mimir said in some effort to reassured Kratos. “He’ll be fine.”

“He is being reckless.”

“Aye, that he is.. can you blame him, though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. I’m sure you’ve noticed how much of a liking he’s taken to her...”

“And?”

“All I’m saying, brother, is that having a girl his age around might prove a bit -let’s say- distracting for him.”

“Yes..” Kratos had already realized that of course. Along with the list of others, this was a reason he was so adamant about getting her back to her mother. Atreus did not need any more distractions.

As Kratos stepped into the area beyond the magic doorway, he observed Atreus staring out at the impressive structure and Sigyn leaning against a lamp post, waiting patiently for the others.

“You lived here?” Atreus asked in awe.

Sigyn nodded. “Till mother and I left.”

“After her fight with Dagny..”

“Right..”

“It’s huge!”

“Yeah.. I don’t really know why they made it so big. I mean- there were only three of us!”

“There aren’t any windows.” He noticed. “How come?”

“Mother and Dagny put a bunch of bifrost windows inside. That way we didn’t always have to look at what’s actually outside.”

“Bifrost windows? That’s what Freya has in her house, Father! The one that shows Vanaheim.”

“Wh- Wait.” Sigyn shot a concered look at Atreus. “Freya?’”

“Oh.. yeah, she was the one who helped you when you got sick.”

Sigyn just blinked at Atreus in shock. “Freya?? As in.. the leader of the Vanir? That Freya?”

“Once, lass.” Mimir corrected, taking note of the fact that she thought Freya was still the leader of Vanaheim. “Not anymore.”

“You know about her?” Atreus asked.

“Obviously! But... why isn’t she the leader of Vanir anymore?”

“That, lass..” Mimir began, “is a long story... I will say things started going downhill for Freya when she married your father.”

“She... married Odin?”

“Aye..”

“Why would she do that?” She grew thoughtful. “Why would Odin do that?”

“Regrettably, it was mainly my doing.”

“You? How?”

“You probably can’t tell just by looking, but I was once Odin’s chief advisor!”

“I knew it!” She exclaimed as they continued along the path. “You are that Mimir!“

Mimir chuckled. “The one and only smartest man alive!”

“How did you end up like... that?”

“What? A decomposing head dangling off the belt of a Greek god? Why do you ask?”

“Head..” Kratos groaned, reminding Mimir to not be coy.

“I’m just having a bit of fun, ya big grump.. After a bit of a -mm- disagreement between I and Odin, he bound me to a tree and enchanted it so that no weapon nor magic could release my body.. luckily I didn’t need my body! Our friend here so kindly chopped my head off and brought it to Freya. She resurrected me, not without spitting in my face to remind me of her enduring hatred for arranging her marriage to Odin.”

“Wow.. I still can’t believe it..”

“Which part, lass?”

“That they were married! I just.. The way I imagine him I couldn’t see that ever happening.”

“Aye, lass... Your father sought council from me on many an important occasion, so I happened to be the one to convince him and the great leader of the Vanir that marriage was the best way to broker peace... Not one of my finest moments I’ll admit..”

“I see.. So.. Odin married Freya, but.. how do you guys know her now?”

“Well.. after a sequence of events, on which I’ll spare the tedious details, Freya broke off the marriage.. In his rage -and paranoia- he stripped away her fighting spirit and banished her to Midgard, where she now lives in hiding.. These two met her after mistakenly shooting her friend.”

“What??”

“Her ‘friend’ was a boar.” Kratos pointed out.

“She’s friends with a boar?”

“And a giant tortoise!” Atreus exclaimed. “She lives under it.”

Sigyn laughed. “Wow. I’d like to see that someday.”

“Unlikely.” Kratos declared.

“Oh? How come?”

“Freya’s pretty mad at us.” Atreus explained. “We killed Baldur, and after that she got really angry.”

“Who’s Baldur?”

“Oh right.. He was her son.”

“Her’s and Odin’s, lass..”

“Oh... so.. kind of my brother?”

Atreus grew thoughtful as he came to that realization for himself. “Wow. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“We did only what we had to.” Kratos stated. “He would have done the same to us or to Freya given the opportunity. You mustn’t-”

“Oh! I’m not sad! He wouldn’t have really been my family.” Sigyn declared. She looked ahead in sad contemplation at the house as they neared the front door. “Mother’s my only real family.. She’s the what matters.”

Kratos stopped when they reached the front door and looked down at Sigyn. “Girl.”

Sigyn just nodded obediently and stepped forward. She hesitated before knocking, fearful of what lay ahead. What if Dagny was inside? Oh, of course she would be inside; this is where she always was.

Part of her wanted to turn around -to just go back to Midgard and forget about Dagny.. about mother- but she knew a part of her would always be missing without them, even after everything that had happened. Besides.. Kratos would never allow her to turn back now.

She took a deep, nervous breath, and she knocked. Three times to announce her arrival. Then she opened the door and led the others inside.

Almost immediately, Atreus took interest in all the bifrost windows surrounding them. A couple he recognized as Alheim, one was Helheim, another Muspelheim, none of Niflheim. “Where’s that?” He asked, pointing to a window that led to particularly lush forest area with giant trees with bark ranging from as dark as the night sky and as light as the clouds. A bright assortment of colors of flowers dotted these trees and the bushes below, bringing a warm, pleasing feeling to the onlooker.

“It’s Asgard.” Sigyn replied mournfully. “That’s the only window we have that leads there.”

“Wow. It’s kind of beautiful.”

“Yeah.. I guess..”

Kratos studied the room as he stepped forward towards the staircase. He took note of the runes on the floor, which he recognized as the runes Atreus said represented the Nornir, and grimaced. Anyone that associated themselves with the fates was no friend of his.

“Where is everyone?” Sigyn muttered to herself.

“Hello?” Dagny’s familiar voice rang from upstairs.

Sigyn froze.

Kratos pulled his axe out and braced himself for an attack as the tall, slender woman with dark hair with gold rings and cloth braided into it stepped towards the staircase. In her tattooed arms she held a thick book with silver runes lining the leather cover. Atreus mimicked Kratos and pulled out his own weapon; though, he didn’t see why his father was being so defensive.

“You’re here..” She exclaimed quietly to herself. She set the book down on a nearby table, stepped forward, and smoothed her brown top in a manner that may have appeared nervous to anyone who didn’t know that Dagny doesn’t get nervous. With a warm smile, she made a welcoming gesture with her hands. “You’ve nothing to fear, friends. I’ve been expecting you.”

“Expecting us?” Atreus began. “How?”

“Oh, dear child!” She laughed in amusement at his childlike wonder. “You aren’t the only one blessed with visions, Atreus.. Or do you prefer Loki?”

“But..”

“I suppose I should thank you for bringing my niece to me safely!” Dagny declared to Kratos and took one step down. “How dearly I’ve missed her!”

As Dagny continued to slowly descend down the stairs, Kratos stepped to the side to where he stood in front of Sigyn and held his arm out in front of her as to defend her from her aunt.

Dagny halted at seeing him do this. “Oh?” Her pleasant expression quickly transformed into a scowl directed at Kratos. She forced a short, airy laugh as she straightened her posture in an almost challenging motion. “I’m pleased to see Sigyn has been in the company of such a protective guardian.”

“What do you want?” Kratos demanded.

“‘What do I want?’ Hmm.. Well, a civilized conversation would be nice; assuming you’re willing to put your weapons away for the time being?”

Kratos glanced at the axe he was gripping. In all honestly he had entirely realized he had it out. For a man like him, having a weapon in his hand in a potentially dangerous situation was merely second nature to him, so this wasn’t surprising. Kratos stood silently, unmoving and unwilling to let his guard down.

“It’s like I said.” Dagny said with a sigh. “You have nothing to fear from me.. I swear it by all the gods of every realm.”

Kratos didn’t respond, still unconvinced.

“If I were going to attack you I would’ve done it by now.” She smiled ever so mischievously. “Besides, it’s not like I’m any stronger than the Ghost of Sparta himself.”

Kratos visibly tensed and growled silently at hearing that name.

Perhaps Sigyn would have recalled reading the book that mentioned the “Ghost of Sparta” all those years ago had her mind not been swirling with panic and visions of what Dagny might do to her this time. She just stood by Atreus, frozen, mute, and barely able to as much as look at her aunt.

“I meant no offense.” Dagny put her hands up on a peaceful gesture. “I only meant to prove a point... Please put the weapons away so we can have a civilized discussion. I have so much I want to talk to you about.”

After a moment of hesitation, he put the axe away and nodded to Atreus to do the same. “Boy.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Thank you.” Dagny smiled and gestured for them to follow her up the stairs. “I have the perfect gift to thank you!”

“Father?” Atreus whispered as dagny ascended up the stairs and started towards a corridor

“What?”

“She cursed Sigyn..”

“She did.”

“We can’t trust her!”

“You only know half of the story, boy. What have I told you about making assumptions?”

“So.. we can trust her?”

“No.”

“Oh.. Are we following her?”

“.. Yes.”

Atreus turned to Sigyn, who stood completely frozen, all the color having left her face and her eyes wide open staring straight ahead. He said nothing to her, not wanting to risk upsetting her more; he simply reached out his hand with a gentle smile as to let her know she was safe.

Sigyn blinked and looked over at his outstretched hand. She hesitated; she trusted him, of course, but did they really know what they were getting into? They might be gods, but how well would they defend themselves and her if Dagny pulled another one of her tricks?

Her gut told her not to, but she allowed him to take her trembling hand in his. She took a leap of faith and trusted that Kratos would not lead her into a trap.

Atreus led Sigyn by the hand up the stairs with Kratos, who made sure they were walking right by his side.

Dagny pushed open a set of double doors, leading to a large room with shelves stacked full of every sort of magical necessity and potion ingredient lining the walls. In the center of a room was a round table with a intricate lantern in the center and a large iron chandelier hanging above; on the table sat a small wooden box with the lid removed and sitting next to it. Inside a red sack full of some powdery substance could be seen.

Dagny stepped up to the table and took the sack out of the box. “Let me see that axe of yours.”

“What?”

She calmly reached in the bag and removed a handful of the grey, dust-like powder. “Just hold it out?”

“Why?”

“This is my gift to you.” She stated with a tone of annoyance. “To thank you.”

He hesitated; obviously he couldn’t trust her, but whatever she had for him could be useful. Finally, he groaned and held the axe out for her. “Fine.”

Dagny smirked proudly and held the dust up near her face and whispered, “festa.” The plain, grey dust lit up and started glowing a yellow hue when she spoke; it almost seemed to have become electrified at her voice as the particles began to fly zip around each other in a mesmerizing pattern.

She held her hand out and blew the dust away. They watched the particles gather around the metal of Kratos’ axe, light up brighter and spin for a brief moment, and then disappear into the air like their purpose had been fulfilled.

“What did you do?”

“It’s better.” Dagny explained vaguely with a smug smile.

“How?” Kratos asked with an impatient, irritated tone.

“I made the enchantments stronger.”

“Mm.” He studied the axe; there were no apparent physical changes, but in a way he could feel that it was somehow.. stronger. After a moment of contemplation he nodded in approval and hung it back on the hook.

“You’re welcome.” Dagny placed the bag back in the box and closed it, then took it over to place it on one of the shelves for safe keeping. “But I trust you didn’t come here for something your dwarves could do.”

“No.”

“Hm.” She spun around and clasped her hands politely in front of her. “Pray tell, friend.”

“You know why we’re here.”

She chuckled. “Maybe.”

“We are bringing the girl to her mother.”

“Ah Yes. My dear sister Alva.” She smiled coyly. “Are you entirely certain she’s the one you want?”

“Where. Is. She?” Kratos demanded, growing impatient with Dagny’s avoidance of his questions.

“Oh. I haven’t the foggiest.” She shrugged nonchalantly and smirked. “I’m sure she’s off enjoying her immortal life free of her family as well as any and all consequences for her actions.”

“But you said-” Sigyn finally spoke up in barely a whisper, “you said-”

Dagny turned her gaze to the terrified child. “I said what, dear?”

“You said-” she began much louder this time. “You guys said she was your servant for eternity.”

“That’s right.”

“You have to know where she is!”

“My love, she is my servant, and I quote, ‘should I require her services,’ and so far I have not.. Having her magic has made sure of that.”

“But..” She shook her head and tried to ignore the fact that her tightening chest was making it hard to breath. “I need her!”

“Need her?!” Dagny scowled, appalled by what she was hearing. Fury began to swell up in her; not anger at Sigyn, but rather at that fact that she was thinking that way. “You’re Mother is a good for nothing monster! Everything she did was for herself. You’re better off without her and you-”

“At least she was there for me!” Sigyn shouted. Tears were falling down her face, but finally past the fear and at the point of fighting. “You abandoned us! You say you love me but if you loved me you wouldn’t have made us leave!” She stopped to take a shaky breath and swallow the lump in her throat. “You wouldn’t have cursed me.”

Despite the past centuries of trying to convince herself that she’d done the right thing, all the shame and guilt that she’d been pushing away flooded back into Dagny’s heart. Her expression softened as she forced back tears. “Sigyn,” she found herself unable to finish. Nothing she could say would make her understand or feel any better.

“You said I wouldn’t feel anything.” Sigyn cried. “But I did.. You knew I would. Didn’t you?”

“I..”

“Everything that happened to me: I could feel it. I could feel time passing by. I knew the world was going on around me. I knew when people were around me. I could feel when they touched me, when they-” she had to stop to keep herself from sobbing. “When they tried to destroy me... I could- I knew when I was alone. For so long, Dagny. I was alone for so. long. But then...” She glanced at Atreus and Kratos, who were standing silently nearby just watching. Atreus’ eyes were wide with horror and red with tears threatening to fall. He could feel her pain, everything she was going through he could feel it. Just like how he could feel the fear of Brok’s beast when they first met him, and just like he could feel that she was scared and lonely when they first found her, he could feel her pain and fear and sadness.

“Then they came.. Finally he broke the curse that you made.”

“Sigyn, I-”

“Why, Dagny? Why did you do it? I- you said I was safe.. you said you’d protect me. So why? Why did you have to put me through that?”

“My love, there is so much you don’t understand. So much I can’t explain.”

“Try.” She begged through the streaming tears. “Please try.”

Dagny struggled to find the right words, but there were none. There could never be words good enough to explain everything, and there were certainly no words that could keep Sigyn’s heart from breaking once she understood the truth. But she would try. She had to try.

“It was part of the pact we made.”

“H- what?”

“That was part of the -erm- arrangement between us. That was her condition. Even before any of it your mothere, before you- before I made you both leave, she had asked me to do it.”

“I don- I- I don’t understand.”

“That was the primary reason I made her leave.. I wouldn’t- I couldn’t do it.” She sighed mournfully and leaned against the table with her head hung low. “She was persistent, so I forced her to leave. I didn’t want you to go, but she took you with just to spite me. I would never have given her a way back in if it weren’t for the fact that you were going with her, so I gave you that travel stone. That way at least you could find your way back someday.” She laughed humorlessly. “And you did... Unfortunately for you.”

Sigyn struggled to process what Dagny was telling her. That couldn’t be true.. “That means..” That her mother had been planning the curse out for a long time? For most of her short life most likely? That mother didn’t love her? She shook her her head, refusing to accept that. “No.. You- you’re lying.”

“Sigyn, you know I’m not.”

“She wouldn’t do that to me!”

Dagny went to Sigyn and knelt down in front of her. She placed her hands gently on her shaky shoulders, surprisingly with no resistance. “I know it’s hard, Sigyn, but please try to understand your mother wasn’t well. She was never the same after Odin; maybe once she could’ve been capable of fully loving a child, but something inside of her broke.”

“no.. no you’re wrong.”

Dagny gently wiped the tears from Sigyn’s cheeks. “My dear girl, I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Sigyn’s expression hardened as she shook her head in denial and pushed Dagny away. “You’re just trying to make me give up on her.”

Dagny sighed and lowered her arms in defeat. “You don’t have to believe me. I understand why you don’t.. Believe me when I say that I haven’t known her whereabouts since the last time we were all together.”

“Then find her!”

Dagny was taken aback by the demand. “I- I.. can’t, Sigyn.”

“No.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and pleaded with her eyes. “If Odin can track me by my magic then you can track mother by hers! I know you couldn’t have taken all of it!”

“Well.. you’re right that I didn’t take all of her magic, but, Sigyn.. Odin can’t track you.”

“Wh- What?”

“Odin can’t track your magic, and I can’t track Alva’s.”

“But- but mother said-”

“That your powers give off a ‘unique signal.’ That if you ever use them he could find you more easily.”

“... yeah?”

Dagny shook her head in disapproval. “All lies, my dear.”

“But.. why? Why wouldn’t she want me to use my powers?”

“That, sweet girl,” she took Sigyn’s trembling hand in her own, “is so very complicated.. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

16 notes · View notes

yetanotherbuffyblog · 5 years

Text

Kids, don’t do necromancy

Joyce is still dead, but Dawn’s working on a solution.

Pro-tip, followers: don’t try to raise the dead. That’s what Dawn tries to do in this episode. Encouraged by the fact that Willow and Tara do poorly-thought-out magic all the time, she asks them if why they couldn’t just bring back the dead. While they object on the lines of ‘The universe has rules you don’t mess with,’ Willow is sympathetic and subtly points her towards one of their books on the history of magic that discusses the idea of bringing back the dead.

Deciding that this is enough, she starts working on how to bring back someone from the dead. And Spike helps! They get a spell from this really sketch dude who thinks he knows Spike? And they get ingredients, including this weird demon egg thing? Spike distracts the demon while Dawn goes and gets the egg.

And Dawn does the spell! She’s interrupted by Buffy, but she’s already done the spell. Buffy and Dawn argue about whether or not it was the right thing to do, and how Dawn thinks that Buffy isn’t actually affected by the death of their mother because she’s internalized a lot of her emotions. And of course Buffy has a breakdown, and then presumably undead Joyce knocks on the door, but as Buffy goes to answer it Dawn realizes that this is kind of effed up and breaks the spell. And they end up crying on the floor.

I like that we’re still dealing with Joyce’s death; I feel as if a lot of shows wouldn’t have had the characters move on, like Buffy, but would have had the Plot move on just to keep things going. This is a big thing that just happened to our characters, and we’ve got to stop and give it some time to breathe.

-You would think Spike, who has been alive for… what, since Victorian Era or so? You’d think he’d know better than to even attempt raising someone from the dead. I suppose he does point out that they need to consult an expert, but really? C’mon. I suppose he is kind of a demon, after all…

-Can Spike be a good person? I’m not asking, writing-wise, I mean, he’s a vampire, a demonic spirit in a human vessel. Is it actually possible for a vampire, without a human soul, to be a good person?

-I suspect that they couldn’t get the actor back, which is why Buffy’s dad doesn’t show up, and Buffy can’t reach him. It’s pretty dickish though? Which is part of the point, but it’s still genuinely terrible that the man isn’t reachable when his ex-wife passed away and that his daughter has no way of contacting him. Don’t do that.

-Angel, however, does appear and he and Buffy have a conversation, mostly in which she thinks if she’d been there ten minutes earlier she could have saved her mother. They also kiss, which gets heated pretty quickly and they decide that it’s best if he leaves, as last time they had sex it ended up creating a season-long arc of evil!Angel.

Wait, does that still apply? That Angel can’t have sex? Or that he can’t have sex with someone he loves? Or something? Look, I’m still very vague on how this whole thing works.

-Speaking of sex, Anya and Xander have it, and we cut to them just as they finish. And Anya has this whole thing where she says she realizes that the reason humans have sex is to celebrate being alive. Which is an article on TV Tropes, btw.

-Xander is understandably skeptical of when Spike arrives to leave flowers. They argue and he leaves, and Willow points out that he didn’t leave a card with the flowers he dropped off, meaning he genuinely didn’t want credit. Which… maybe, considering he was delivering them in person. But it is good to see that he wants to pay respects to Joyce, and as he points out Joyce was genuinely nice to him, though to be fair she started interacting with him before realizing that he was a vampire.

-And Spike decides to help Dawn! Which is a nice little plot, though again, I don’t know why he didn’t think raising someone from the dead would go badly.

-Willow doesn’t seem to get why maybe pointing Dawn in the direction of the book was a bad idea? Look, all I’m saying is Willow has a history of making bad decisions with magic, and Tara seems like the reasonable one here.

-When Dawn’s like “You two break the rules of the universe all the time!” I’m like, “Yes. Yes they do. And that’s not a good thing.”

-The implication from the end of the episode is that Dawn’s spell kinda worked, and that Joyce was brought back wrong, if only temporarily, which makes sense given everything we’re told, but it is a bit… not a letdown, exactly, but it’s frustrating that we don’t see that. Because for all we know, revived Joyce is fine, although I suppose no entity who has a life tied to a picture is fine.

-Also when she’s told that to break the spell, she needs to break the image, I thought Dawn would have to burn it or something? But it turns out that tearing it in two is enough.

-Glory finds out that the key she’s been looking for is a person! All because Ben couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. I get that this needed to happen for Plot Reasons, but it’s a bit silly that it only happens because Ben, when talking to Glory’s servant Jinx, just happens to allude to the fact that the key is an innocent person.

-The magic expert that Spike takes Dawn to consult? Yeah that guy was sketchy as fudge. When they leave his eyes turn black, which I thought would be a plot point, but kind of goes nowhere? Then again, he might turn up again. Or maybe it’s just another sign of freaky shiz happening in Sunnydale! Who knows?

-Buffy and Dawn’s confrontation at the end reminded me of the bit in God of War where Atreus tells Kratos that he doesn’t think she cares about his mother’s death, and he’s all like, “Just because I’m not bawling my eyes out it doesn’t mean I’m not upset, okay?”

TV Tropes claims that this episode heavily references “The Monkey’s Paw” but it’s been so long since I read that story, so I’ll have to take its word for it, kay?

#5x17 #Buffy the Vampire Slayer #Dawn Summers #Buffy Summers #Joyce Summers #Spike #Willow Rosenberg

7 notes · View notes

randomfandomimagine · 6 years

Text

Family (God of War Imagine)

Characters: Kratos & Atreus (no pairing)

Fandom: God of War (4)

Categories: Reader Insert, GenderNeutral!Reader

Title: Family

Requested by @anothergamerchick (x)(x)

Requested by anons (x)(x)

A/N: My first God of War imagine! Sorry if it’s a bit quick-paced, I wanted to put a lot of stuff in. But I worked really hard on this one and I’m pretty proud with the result, so I really hope you guys like it as well :3

WARNING: Some spoilers from the game! Also, this is very long!

I stiffened up when I heard the distant sound of voices and footsteps. Frightened and cautious, I stood from the rock I was sitting in and took a look around me. I was done resting now, I needed to hide from the possible threat.

I quickly hid behind a bush and crouched to be even less visible. Then I tried to slow my breathing and calm my heart. I definitely wasn’t used to being alone and going exploring wasn’t resulting as appealing and adventurous as I had made it out to be.

I gasped when two figures grew closer and I looked down as though that could be helpful. However, the footsteps grew closer.

“What was that?” A very deep and intimidating voice spoke up.

“What was what?” A younger, slightly high-pitched voice replied.

“I heard something” The other one said. “In those bushes”

“Oh, no…” I uttered, knowing they had somehow discovered me.

My heart began racing at the thought that they would discover me. What if they were violent? What if they hurt me, or even killed me?!

“I… didn’t hear any…” The softer voice was saying, but they interrupted themselves. “Wait, it moved!”

I gasped, closing my eyes tight and cringing in fear. Maybe if I stayed as still as I could, they would leave.

“Show yourself!” The deep voice demanded. “I am armed!”

That was a definite warning, so I jumped out of the bushes and threw my hands up in the air in surrender. When I watched the two figures –a big burly man as intimidating as his voice, and a little boy –I knew I shouldn’t have made any sharp movements not to startle them. But only the boy got startled.

“Please, don’t hurt me!” I begged, feeling myself shaking in fear. Venturing into the wild on my own wasn’t the best idea I had. “I surrender!”

The man sighed in annoyance and saved the big axe that he was wielding. The boy, on turn, put his bow on his back once more seeing who I assumed was his father did too.

“Why were you hiding?” The man asked me, staring at me with a scowl.

“I-I got scared!” I hoped he believed me, I still didn’t feel completely safe. “I heard voices and…”

“We’re not gonna hurt you” The boy intervened, showing me a friendly smile. “We just didn’t know you were human, we thought you were a draugr or something”

“No, no, I’m human!” I nodded vehemently, slightly relieved. “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding”

The man groaned in annoyance once more, but he kept walking. The boy hesitated, but he stayed behind with me instead.

“I’m Atreus” He introduced himself with another smile. “And that’s my father Kratos”

“Pleasure to meet you, Atreus” I looked ahead to the man, even though he was ignoring me, and raised my voice so he could hear me. “And you too, Kratos, sir!”

The man didn’t reply, he just kept walking without even looking back.

“What’s your name?” Atreus asked me, seemingly curious and excited at the same time. I supposed it must have been nice for him to have more company other than his cold father.

“Oh, I’m Y/N” I smiled back at him, but was suddenly interrupted by Kratos.

“That is enough, child” The man turned around to us and gravely stared at me. “Leave us, continue your path on your own”

“B-But…” I complained, and I stopped walking along with Atreus, in pure shock.

“Come, boy” Kratos held Atreus by the arm and tugged at him so he would follow.

The kid, although obedient, seemed sad to be leaving me behind before we could even start getting to know each other. He didn’t give us any time.

“Wait, please!” I tried my luck, even if I was scared to anger Kratos. “If I could come with you, that would be-“

“No”

“Please, I have a weapon too, I could help you in battles and-“

“I said no!”

“Please, sir, I don’t want to be alone”

“Father…” Atreus shyly intervened, gathering the man’s attention. “We could use her help, and I would like her to come”

Definitely, the boy wanted some more company. Not only because the more, the merrier, but because his father seemed very stern and rough.

Kratos thought about it, his eyes moving from the boy to me. Then he examined me carefully, and I noticed how they fell over my mace too.

“Why would you want to accompany us, child?” I didn’t like that he kept calling me ‘child’, but I didn’t want to tempt fate seeing as he seemed willing to accept me, so I didn’t address the issue.

“Because I’m afraid… I need to travel Midgard, but… I don’t really want to be alone” I explained, flustered by his intense stare.

“Why are you travelling? Where are you going?”

“No offence, but that is a personal matter and-“

“If you want to come, you must accept my conditions. I demand to know your intentions”

I could tell by his expression that his patience was running thin. And I didn’t really want to upset him, so I sighed and talked.

“I’m completely alone” I began to say, saddened when I was reminded about it. “I don’t have a family anymore and I wanted to move on, leave my past behind”

Kratos frowned, as though that sounded familiar. But then he looked down to his son before his glance rested over me once more.

“Very well” Although resigned, he accepted. “You may come with us”

“Thank you!” I grinned and bowed a little in a sign of respect that I hoped he appreciated.

“If you endanger our mission” He warned me gravely. “I will not think twice to abandon you”

Those were harsh words, earning a gulp from me. I believed him capable of abandoning me in the middle of nowhere, so I needed to make sure that didn’t happen. It was all on me.

“I won’t let you down, I promise” I nodded humbly, letting him know I would do my best. All I earned was another grunt in response before he continued walking.

“Hey, maybe we can be your family now!” Atreus happily told me, making me smile, already growing fond of such a sweet kid.

“No, boy” Kratos corrected him. “We are merely walking the path together, nothing more”

“I’m… I’m sorry” Atreus replied, eyeing me too. I shrugged, pretending like it didn’t matter. But it did, even if I couldn’t expect them to adopt me just like that.

But I liked Atreus, he was very nice and friendly. Kratos not so much, but I guessed he needed to protect his boy at all cost. From everything and everyone, and that needed a little bit of tough love.

So I was determined to prove myself. To obey Kratos and show him that I was willing to do everything he told me to as long as he allowed me to travel with them. They weren’t really my family, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.

We walked in silence, not daring to speak up not to upset Kratos, who seemed to enjoy the quiet. Atreus made me smile, though, as he was stomping on the ground and being careful to leave a perfect trail of his feet on the snow, lifting his knees as he moved. He was just a kid, after all, he was expected to engage in some childish demeanors.

I looked at Kratos’ broad back, the white of his skin contrasting with the red lines that occupied it. I had never seen someone like him, but I didn’t want to make any questions. Not even where we were headed, because I honestly didn’t mind as long as I wasn’t alone. But I did have an important question.

“K-Kratos, sir” I dared to speak up, pausing yet seeing that he only turned his head slightly over his shoulder. “Can I ask you a question?”

He let out a soft affirmative grunt as all response.

“If… when we encounter enemies, whether they are draugr or humans or anything… Am I allowed to fight back? I wouldn’t want to hinder your fighting”

Kratos definitely looked over his shoulder to me, surprised by the thoughtful and respectful question. He nodded and opened his mouth to reply.

“You are allowed to engage in battle with draugr and other creatures. Human, you leave to me. Atreus will do the same” As Kratos spoke, I exchanged a glance with Atreus, who grinned at me like he always did.

“I understand” I meekly replied, even though this time I was happy that he seemed not to be as bothered by my mere presence.

“Aye, ain’t gonna introduce me?” A voice suddenly said, that I knew didn’t belong to Atreus nor Kratos.

“Ah!” I yelped in surprise, looking around trying to find the source of the voice. “Who’s there?!”

“It’s me! Don’t be afraid, kid!”

“Where are you?!”

“Here!”

Finally realizing who was speaking, I looked at Kratos’ belt just to see a head. An actual human head, alive without its body. That was probably the work of magic.

“Sorry that I didn’t say something sooner, I didn’t want to interrupt” He said with a mild accent. “I’m Mimir, at your service”

“I-I’m Y/N” I was about to offer my hand to him when I realized he couldn’t shake it. “What… No offence, but why are you carrying a living head with you?”

Kratos didn’t respond, so Atreus did for his father.

“It’s a long story, really” He shrugged a little. “But he’s helping us”

“I sure am” Mimir said with a grin. “After all, I’m the smartest man alive”

I looked at Atreus, but the boy didn’t seem too bothered by it anymore. I then looked at Kratos, yet the man didn’t seem to care about anything. He was determined on his goal, whatever that might be.

“Atreus” I whispered, hoping his father didn’t hear me.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

“Sure! We’re going to the highest peak in all of the realms!”

“Really? Why?”

I knew I should have been more sensible when asking my questions when the boy’s expression shifted from friendliness to a mild sadness.

“To scatter my mother’s asses, it was her last wish” He replied quietly, averting his gaze.

“Oh” Was all I could manage as an answer, knowing a little bit more about them.

They had lost someone too, just like I had. But at least they had each other. Even if Kratos seemed very cold and severe, perhaps precisely because of his loss. He might be a strong and stubborn man, but that didn’t mean he was incapable of loving. It seemed like he dearly loved his wife. And his son too, surelly he seemed ready to protect the boy from anything.

“What was your mom’s name?” I asked the kid, wanting to show an interest.

“Faye” To thank me for caring and worrying, Atreus smiled a little.

“Beautiful name” I told him to encourage him a little.

“What is it you speak about?” Kratos asked us with his deep and serious voice.

“Uh… nothing!” Atreus was quick to answer his father, who replied with one of his grunts.

I exchanged a look with the boy, who shrugged a little.

“Father doesn’t like me telling it to people” He sighed softly. “He doesn’t really trust anyone”

“Yeah, your father is quite… unique” I stared at the man, trying to figure out what was it about him that intrigued me.

It wasn’t only that he was so hermetic, distrustful or strong. There was something else, some sort of aura that surrounded him and made him stand out, that showed he was special. An aura I had solely felt around… gods.

I had only met one god, who ended up becoming my guardian before… well, before I was left alone. But that aura was unmistakable, I had felt it for years now and I would recognize it anywhere, there was no doubt that Kratos was a god. Did that mean that Atreus was also…?

“Why do you stare?” Kratos interrupted my line of thought, startling me a little.

“I’m not” I replied, quickly looking away and focusing my eyes on the snow at my feet.

I heard Atreus lowly chuckling, so I stared at him. I supposed he was amused by the fact that I was so intimidated by his father. But when my eyes fell over him, the boy looked down and kept on stomping on the snow, now stepping in the trail Kratos left on it, which was pretty cute.

“What are you laughing at?” I playfully glared at the kid.

“I didn’t laugh” He replied with a fake innocent tone.

I grinned as I leaned forward and picked up a handful of snow, rolling it into a ball and throwing it at the boy’s head. I held back a guffaw when Atreus yelped and stumbled forward a little.

Kratos turned around in a sharp movement, worried that we were being attacked. But I could have sworn I noticed how the corner of his lips curled up as Atreus retaliated by throwing me another snowball and laughed out loud when it hit me straight in the face.

However, when I cleaned my face from the freezing snow and I looked back at the man, the alleged smile was gone as though it was never there.

“My face!” I complained, chasing Atreus as I prepared another snowball.

“Truce!” The kid replied between giggles, running around and trying to hide behind his father. “Truce!!”

We laughed as we ran and threw each other snowballs, having fun and teasing each other with provocative yet playful insults. Until one of the snowballs didn’t hit the right target. I had been trying to hit Atreus, but since he kept using his father as a human shield, it hit Kratos.

“Oh, no” I muttered when he gave me a scowl. “Didn’t mean to do that…”

For a second, everyone halted and watched him in expectation. But Kratos didn’t do anything, he just stared at me with rage.

“Run” I said as I held on to the boy’s arm and tugged at it. “Run, Atreus!”

At least he wouldn’t chase after us.

We didn’t really stop for a break, and even if he tried to hide it, I could tell Atreus was exhausted. And so was I, to be honest, after a day and a half of running around and fighting. The way to the top of the mountain was long and filled with battles along the way. Kratos held himself back to let me show my skills, which were a little poor still. But I worked hard and made a great effort to prove myself and to also improve, obeying his instructions.

“Accuracy over speed” Atreus said to me. “Isn’t that right, father?”

“In your case, yes, you are impulsive, boy” Kratos’ glance fell over me. “You are too reflexive, you take too long”

“I’ll be faster next time” I promised, trying to hide how tired I actually felt.

I felt like I needed Kratos’ acceptance and approval so he would let me stay with them. I wasn’t alone anymore, and I was growing fond of them. Of Mimir, Kratos and especially Atreus. The kid was so sweet and so upbeat, it was easy to get along with him, not to mention his big heart.

As we exited the cave, we were received with the pleasant fresh air and the open spaces. It was quite claustrophobic inside there, so I was grateful for being outside again.

“Sindri!” Atreus exclaimed cheerfully, running to the dwarf standing in the tent before us, crafting weapons and such.

“That a friend?” I asked Kratos, but when I turned to him, he was taking hold of my upper arm. He didn’t even hear my question.

“Listen, child” He began to say, quite gravelly. “You must protect the boy, make it a priority in battle”

“But…” I frowned, surprised by the sudden warning. After fighting by his side all those times, I thought he wanted me to help him. “I always thought I should back you up instead…”

“No, you must do as I say” He took my answer the wrong way, thinking I refused to do as he said. It was like Kratos was always defensive. “You are only accompanying us because your company seems to be doing the boy good”

I was honestly shocked by how much he cared about Atreus. Not that it was strange, he was his father, but he could be so cold and distant! It was surprising to see him voicing his true feelings.

“I will protect him” I nodded, letting him know I had understood.

“Do so, but also let him fend for himself”

“How do you do both?”

“Find a balance”

As to leave me time to think those words over, Kratos left from my side immediately after. I frowned, trying to think how to properly create a balance between those two concepts. It didn’t seem easy.

Realizing Kratos was already at the tent, talking to the dwarf along with Atreus, I forced myself to go with them. It was a hard task, because I was very tired.

My legs felt shaky and unstable, like they wouldn’t be able to hold my weight for much longer. My arms hurt from carrying my weapon and thrusting it upon our enemies. My legs and feet were throbbing from the amount of work they made, walking, jumping and evading attacks. My back was also in pain due to the tension of the battles and for standing for so long.

I had been carrying a headache for a few hours now, but I was suddenly struck with an intense light-headedness. I wobbled as I advanced to the tent and leaned on the dwarf’s worktable, trying to hide my weakness.

“Who’s this?” He asked in a friendly manner, staring at me with curiosity.

“Sindri, this is Y/N, our friend! Y/N, this is-“ Atreus interrupted himself, however, when he lied eyes on me. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” I replied, managing to choke out that simple sound. Exhaustion was slowly taking over and even leaning my weight in the worktable, I felt faint.

“What is the matter, child?” Kratos asked me, scowling as he stared at me too.

“You look exhausted, kid!” Sindri told me himself, and all the attention wasn’t making it any easier.

“I’m okay” I muttered, even if I closed my eyes tight when everything started spinning around me.

“You are not” Kratos disagreed, and I got startled when I felt a big hand covering my forehead. When I opened my eyes, I found with him being closer. “You run a fever”

“I’m fine” I insisted, now tightly gripping the table. “It’s just a headache…”

“You need to rest!” The boy gently rested a hand on my arm to comfort me. “We can stop for a while! Right, father?”

“We will not” The aforesaid replied simply. “You will stay, you won’t slow us down”

I frowned, knowing I got exactly what I feared. Exactly why I didn’t say anything before, Kratos thought my very human need to rest was a waste of time.

“I said I’m alright! I can continue” To show my determination, I stepped away from the table, which was a big mistake. “I can-“

“And I said no” When I got even dizzier and dangerously wobbled, Kratos held me up by my upper arm. “You will stay with the dwarf”

“Me?” Sindri muttered, taken aback by this. “O-Okay…”

“I can continue, I promise!” I gulped, opening my eyes when I realized they had closed themselves without my consent. “Please let me continue, Kratos”

“If you can wield your weapon, I will allow you to” He suddenly said, which sounded a lot like an ultimatum. But he gave me a chance to prove it.

I weakly nodded and reached out to grab my mace. All the muscles in my arms sent a collective whine of pain at the weight of it. I winced, but gritted my teeth not to complain.

Suddenly, the weapon slipped from my hands and fell on the ground. I felt a wave of nausea run over me, and I gasped, suddenly out of breath.

“Y/N?” Atreus worried, placing a hesitant hand on my arm again.

“I don’t feel good…” I wasn’t strong enough to pretend anymore, I felt sick.

Suddenly, my knees buckled under my own weight and everything turned to darkness before I could hit the ground.

I awoke to a constant clanking sound that was somewhat familiar. But my slow mind didn’t realize what it was yet. I felt a warm blanket over me and another one under because I could feel the coldness from the stone ground beneath me.

I tiredly opened my eyes and found myself in a place we had visited before. Tyr’s temple, where Brok’s shop was. That explained the noise too.

“Y/N!” Atreus probably noticed me stirring, and he quickly ran to me. “You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

“A little weak” I carefully sat up, letting the boy help me. “But better, I guess…”

“That’s good! We wanted to bring you to Freya, but we were so far away! Of course, you don’t know who Freya is so-” The boy’s rambling confused me further, so I interrupted him.

“What happened, Atreus?”

“You got sick and we brought you here to protect you from the cold”

“Where’s your father?” I noticed Kratos was nowhere to be seen, and that was probably for the best. I didn’t have the energies to stand a lecture from him.

“He went to look for a cure for you, just in case” Atreus’ words let me astonished.

“Your dad went out of his way for me? He did that?”

“Well… Yeah! He did!”

I stared at him, wondering whether or not he was telling the truth. Knowing Atreus’ kindness, he might be lying to make me feel better. Seeing as I was silent and didn’t believe him, the boy kept talking.

“We didn’t know what was wrong with you, he was worried!” I was about to reply to that, express my disbelief and explain that I was just very tired, that nothing was wrong with me. But then a voice interrupted us.

“Atreus” There was Kratos, with his permanent scowl in his face.

The boy looked behind him, watching his father approach. Figuring he wanted him to leave, Atreus stood up.

“I’ll go tell Brok and Sindri you’re okay” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder, where the two dwarves actually were despite their disagreements. “They were worried about you too”

With that, the kid left just as Kratos arrived to my side and towered over me.

“I’m sorry” I immediately said, reading his cold expression. I also tried to stand up, but he held up a big hand.

“You must rest” He said to my surprise, seemingly calm and patient. That man never ceased to amaze me.

“I don’t want to slow you down” I muttered, averting my gaze in shame for all the time they wasted because of me.

“You will only slow us down if you get sick” I raised my glance at his words, still shocked because of his whole reaction. “You did not say you needed to rest before”

“I…” It seemed to me that he wasn’t angry that I was tired, but that I let it get so bad that I got sick. Then I truly slowed them down, like he said himself. “I didn’t want to seem weak”

“There is no weakness in that, only in failure, in giving up” He crossed his arms over his chest, and even though his face held the same cold and moody expression, I caught a hint of warmth in his eyes. “You are human, and you need to find your own pace”

“I understand” I nodded, obediently. “It won’t happen again”

“Good” His deep voice replied. “You see that it does not”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you” Truly, Kratos had become sort of a paternal figure for me, not only because I needed his approval to stop being alone anymore. I wanted to make him proud, and I admired his strength.

“You are still learning” Coming from him, I knew that meant ‘it’s okay, everybody makes mistakes, I’m not mad or disappointed’ but he would never say those words.

I smiled at him to show him my gratitude, to thank him for being understanding. Then I slowly stood up, glad to see I wasn’t dizzy anymore. Still a little tired and sore from all the walking and fighting, but I didn’t have a headache either.

“Are you alright?” Kratos held my upper arm and helped me to my feet. When I nodded, he did too. “We must continue then”

Taking my time and feeling him staring to make sure I was okay, I slowly made my way to reunite with Atreus and the dwarves.

“We are leaving” Kratos announced as he offered his axe to Sindri so he would upgrade it.

“Y/N, Y/N, I didn’t tell you!” Atreus held me by the wrist and took me with him as we distanced ourselves from the other three. “Father said I could tell you!”

“What is it? What did I miss?” I smiled a little, endeared by the boy’s upbeat nature still.

“I’m a god!” He told me, the pride reflected in his blue eyes. “That was why I kept getting sick, thinking I was mortal made me sick!”

I remembered Mimir saying something about it. The mind and the body got in conflict because believing himself mortal when in reality he was a god, it made Atreus fight against his own nature although unwillingly. But now it made sense, I had worried when I watched the kid get ill sometimes, especially when he lost control of his anger.

It made perfect sense, being Kratos some sort of god himself, his son probably inherited his godhood in one way or the other.

“That’s great!” I awkwardly said, not really knowing what else to reply.

“Right?” There was a big grin plastered on his face, but for the first time since I knew him, there was also a bit of arrogance in his usually kind and friendly expression. “No one can stop us now!”

I stared at Kratos, and feeling my eyes on him, he looked at me too. I frowned, and he seemed to know what I was thinking about, because his eyes moved to his son instead. I didn’t like this newly found confidence Atreus suddenly had.

This was getting out of hand, I knew it couldn’t be good. I knew that it was bad when sweet little Atreus turned arrogant and bigheaded all of a sudden.

And now he… had killed! In cold blood! Someone who, as his father said, was beaten! No matter how evil Modi was, it was cruel that Atreus killed him when he was already hurt. And even if he weren’t, it was just… wrong. He was just a boy.

I awkwardly stood there, hearing how his father told him off for going against his wishes, for disobeying, for taking justice on his hand, and for being outright unlikeable.

“But we are gods!” Atreus retaliated to Kratos’ words. “We can do whatever we want!”

“No, you will do as I say, boy” His father seriously told him. “And you will quit this attitude immediately”

“Whatever” The kid kept talking like he had heard nothing.

I noticed the scowl on Kratos’ face, this time worse than ever, angrier, more displeased. I cautiously stared at him until he reciprocated my glance, and then I piped up.

“Could I talk to him?” I asked him, knowing thst as his father, he might want to take charge of it himself.

Kratos’ response was a brief grunt of agreement, so I nodded and approached Atreus.

“Hey, kid” I started off by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What!” He replied abruptly, shrugging my hand off.

“I think you need to take it easy” Seeing how hotheaded he was behaving, I spoke carefully.

“Why take it easy?” I almost didn’t recognize him, there was so much violence in his voice, so much hatred almost.

“You’re not being yourself! All these things you’re doing? Telling Sindri that you don’t care about ‘little people’s little problems’? Killing Modi like that? Talking to your father that way? Your mother wouldn’t have wanted you to-“

“Shut up!” He rudely interrupted me, angrily. “You don’t know anything!”

“I do know that you owe your father some respect and he knows what’s best for you and you should listen to him!” I began to raise my voice, frustrated that he had changed so much. I missed the sweet little boy from before. “And I know you should honor your mother’s memory by being someone she would be proud of!”

“I’m a god, people should fear me! I can’t be stopped!” Was his justification.

“That’s not how it works” I shook my head, remembering about the other god I had met, the one that looked after me when I was left alone in this world. He was always kind and selfless, soft and benevolent.

“What would you know? You’re just a mortal!” Atreus shouted back at me. “You don’t even deserve to be coming with us! You should be thankful that we’re allowing your useless presence! You’re nothing without us!”

There was a pause in which none of us spoke. I stared at him, searching his eyes for a hint of regret but I found with nothing. Just that burning fire of hatred and power that he had been portraying all this time.

“That was hurtful, Atreus” My eyes became watery at his terrible words, but even then he didn’t seem to care. He was so far gone into his megalomania that he didn’t realize how much wrong he was doing.

“Yeah, maybe next time you’ll think twice before disrespecting me” Was all he said, walking away from me.

It was bad enough that I was working so hard to get Kratos’ approval, but now I needed Atreus’ too? When we had been friends almost since the moment we met? No, that wasn’t even the true Atreus. That was a shadow of his former self, a terrible and cruel version of the kind person he used to be. I refused to believe that was who he had become.

Kratos passed me by, for the first time following his son instead of the other way around. And as the man walked by me, he rested a big comforting hand over my shoulder.

I knew it. We were about to enter Jotunheim, to finally reach the highest peak in all realms to finish our journey. But Atreus’ arrogance cost us a journey to Helheim instead. But being optimistic, at least the fight with Baldur and the guilt of us ending up here because of him seemed to bring Atreus back to normal.

But not exactly, as he had lost his lively nature and abandoned it for an apathy that I didn’t like either. But I didn’t blame Kratos for lecturing him again, even if he could have said the same things he said in a different, softer way.

“Kratos” I called him, eyeing the kid with the corner of my eye. “Did you know he would be like this when he found out he was a god?”

“No” The man replied solely, his eyes scanning around for a way out. “I did not know”

“Then you must have had a reason to wait for so long until you told him” I spoke lowly, scared that I was tempting fate and, mostly, his patience.

But to my surprise, he actually answered me, and he didn’t seem too annoyed about it.

“I hoped to spare him from the life of a god” He said with a heavy sigh. “Not that you would understand, child”

“I won’t ask” Kratos’ past was definitely the worst subject to bring up, so I didn’t.

“Good” He replied with a nod of approval.

“If I may ask, though… Why did you tell him after all?” I dared to speak up again, even if he had established a firm silence, but I broke it nonetheless.

“I feared he would fall ill like you did” His eyes fell over me for a moment, but then they looked away. In that brief moment, however, I could read almost fondness in his eyes. And at the same time concern because of it. Of me, of Atreus. He cared about us and worried about our safety. “I could not allow that to happen”

I was left speechless at the discovery. Me falling sick had opened his eyes, it had made him see that he didn’t want his son to grow sick because he kept a secret that concerned him. Kratos got so worried when I was sick that he learned the lesson. He… cared about me after all, I wasn’t just a nuisance for him.

I didn’t know what to say in response or even if I should say anything, but before I could, Atreus approached us even if crestfallen and repentant.

“I’m sorry” There was his soft voice again, and the kind look in his eyes returned to them as well. “I… I owed you both an apology”

“You did” Kratos was cold as usual, and he left us alone as he scouted the area.

I still didn’t agree with Kratos’ tough love but I was a little hurt by Atreus’ words still and he needed it at the moment. Besides, I understood it was his father’s best way of educating him.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry” The boy wouldn’t meet my glance, and his voice sounded genuine and regretful. “I didn’t mean anything I said, and… I’m really happy that you’re with us, because you’re my friend and you’ve always been so nice to me”

I remained quiet, torn between the compassion and the resentment. I wanted to immediately forgive him, yet I was still hurt by the things he said. Probably noticing this, Atreus kept on talking and hence apologizing.

“And I just wanted to say that… you’re not useless, you never were. You don’t actually need us, you helped us a lot. And that... I really enjoy being with you because you’re probably actually my first friend and-“

“Stop” I knew he wasn’t playing with my emotions trying to make me pity him, I knew every word came directly from his heart, and I couldn’t stand watching him feel so miserable anymore. “I know you weren’t yourself, Trey, it’s okay”

He paused for a moment, but grinned to relief the tension.

“I like the nickname”

“A friend’s gift, kid”

“But I don’t have one for you… Give me time, I’ll come up with one!”

“You don’t have to, boy”

We both laughed at my impersonation of Kratos, mimicking his deep voice and all. But we immediately stopped when he turned around to see what we were laughing about and silently followed him.

As we reunited with Kratos to hopefully get out of Helheim as soon as possible, I felt Atreus’ staring at me with gratitude.

“Thanks for forgiving me, Y/N”

“No problem”

We had come a long way, we had travelled through the realms and had even went through Helheim in order to arrive to our destination, but we were finally there.

I was moved as I watched Kratos and Atreus spreading Faye’s ashes together. A heartwarming moment between father and son, between man and boy. I was nearly moved to tears when I watched them truly bonding, accepting each other and Kratos being supporting and loving despite everything.

Then, we turned around and left, feeling somewhat accomplished that we had done what we needed to. I looked down, suddenly feeling overcome with sadness. A moment ago, I was moved by the beautiful moment I shared with them, by the accomplishment of making Faye’s last wish come true. Of witnessing such a sweet moment between father and son. But then I realized something: I didn’t fit in, I wasn’t part of their family. I was a stranger that they allowed to accompany them, and now that their journey was over, I had no place to go to again.

“Y/N?” Atreus asked me as we went down the stairs, breaking the silence. “You okay?”

“What?” I felt absent and drained because of this terrible sadness. “Oh, yeah… Yeah… I’m fine”

I noticed he exchanged a glance with his father, who let out a soft sigh and spoke up himself then.

“Speak up, child” Kratos mumbled, stopping on his tracks to properly address the issue. “What is on your mind?”

“I… well, actually…” I decided that it was a good chance to let them know how I felt, to say goodbye. “I have some things to say”

“Then speak” Kratos insisted, crossing his big arms over his chest.

“I… I just want to thank you… It was amazing meeting you. And I’ve learnt so much, not only fighting from you, Kratos but… Patience and discipline. And kindness and hope from Atreus. And wisdom from Mimir”

“Good” Kratos solely said, giving me a head nod.

“And Atreus” I put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to look up at me with his soft blue eyes. “I know he’s strict but… your father loves you and wants the best for you, and even if I had someone who looked after me, I was alone when he passed and I never met my parents… So…”

I paused when I felt very sensitive, my eyes growing teary as I tried not to get too emotional.

“What are you implying, child?” Kratos urged me to keep talking.

“That…” I deliberately avoided his glance, instead looking at Atreus. “You’re lucky to have a father like Kratos. And even though she has passed, I’m sure Faye was a wonderful mother and… she will always be with you in your heart, and she will always look after you”

“Why are you saying this?” The boy asked me, staring at me in concern and a bit of sadness as well.

“Because… The time has come to say goodbye” I gave a sad smile, pausing.

None of them said anything, not even Atreus with his usual upbeat nature. But I could feel their eyes on me as I looked down. I took a deep breath and gave Atreus a last hug, not being brave enough to do the same with Kratos.

“Goodbye” I said with watery eyes and a shaky voice. “This journey was incredible, thank you for everything”

Not wanting to drag out the painful farewell any longer, I started walking away. But then, when I was only a few meters away from them, the now familiar deep voice of Kratos called me.

“Wait” He said, making me turn around and look at him.

I waited as he said, with my heart pounding in my chest. He couldn’t possible say what I thought he would, right? What I hoped and longed for him to say.

“You are coming with us” Kratos walked closer to me until he was close enough, and then he softly put his hand over my shoulder. “You are family now, Y/N”

I felt a tear falling down my cheek, but even though they had welled up in my eyes due to sadness, now I shed them in happiness.

“Thank you!” I screamed cheerfully, throwing myself to hug him.

I gasped when I realized what I was doing, I hadn’t stopped to think. I was hugging Kratos, without his permission, without any warning either. It surely bothered him.

“I’m… I’m sorry” I stuttered, about to break the hug.

But Kratos chuckled, he actually let out a soft fond chuckle! And his big hands gently rested in my back, he was hugging me back! When we broke the hug, I looked up at him.

“Let us go home” He just said, with a surprisingly friendly expression I had never truly seen in his face before. I somehow got under his skin, which was a achievement.

Atreus suddenly chuckled excitedly and jumped around, tugging at my arm and hugging me. I grinned happily, infected by his energetic mood.

The two of us continued our way down the stairs to get back, Kratos closely following us. We were going home. I was going home, with my new family.

Tagging: @poem-whore, @snowfire71, @xionroxas, @raararasputin, @jewish-bisexual

#imagine #oneshot #gow #god of war #gow imagine #god of war imagine #kratos #atreus #mimir #freya #brok #sindri #reader insert #requested #faves

315 notes · View notes