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imabeautifulbutterfly · 3 months

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Hello again! I've returned with another fic roulette request!

I would love to see what you can do with 2 and 31 Tech and f!reader. Please and thank you~ (Apologies for another Tech request, I'm a wee bit of a Tech girlie. ^^' )

Hello gorgeous,

I'm a Tech girlie too, so don't worry. I love our lovable nerd clone. He's so adorable.

I hope you enjoy this fic, since you didn't specify a platonic relationship, I didn't write one. I hope that's okay.

Also all the star talk is copied from Study.com, 'What Causes a Star to Shine Brightly?' article. Thank you to the writer for providing a great synopsis I could use.

Also it got a bit long at 1400+ words.

Love oo,

Just a Dream

Warning: Fluff, anxiety, force sensitive reader, possible character death, fear, nightmare, information dumping, I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

The house was quiet, the island was quiet, not surprising when it was nearly two in the morning. You did your best to try and sleep, but you couldn’t. You kept having the same dream, a secret meeting with Imperial commanders. An explosion that dislodges a cable car. Tech hanging from a rappelling cable. No matter how hard you tried to push those images away, you couldn’t. Something about Tech dangling over nothing from a rappelling cable put knots in your stomach. You grabbed the shawl one of the villagers made you, they said you looked like the kind that indulged in warmth. She was a kind older woman, and you couldn’t say no.

You tightened the shawl around as you sat on the patio chairs that had been donated to you and the Bad Batch. It was their way of welcoming all of you and honestly, you were beyond overwhelmed by Pabu’s hospitality and openness. You never wanted to leave here.

As quietly as possible you moved the chair away from the patio table, took a seat and looked up watching the stars, trying to calm down your mind.

It was a few minutes before you heard the door to the house close and footsteps coming to join your side.

Tech sat down and looked up to the stars with you, he knew if you were out here it usually had to do with a nightmare that wouldn’t leave your mind or it had to do with some anxiety you were going through at the moment.

“Do you know a star is a glowing body of gas and plasma? The reason a star glows is that it uses nuclear fusion to fuse hydrogen atoms into helium nuclei producing both heat and light. Scientists can determine what elements make up a star by looking at the emission spectra of the light they produce.”

You turned your head looking at him smiling, enjoying listening to his voice.

“There’s a star that is known as a red dwarf star, it’s smaller and cooler than main-sequence stars. However, due to their dimensions and cooler temperature they are too dim to be seen by the naked eye. You need a telescope in order to see them. And some have been estimated to have a life span of 10 trillion years.”

As you listened to his soothing voice you couldn’t help but smile and keep looking at him as you turned fully to face him, keeping the shawl close, shutting out the cold air.

“What other star is there?”

“Well I’ve also read about red supergiant stars. Now these stars have fused all their hydrogen, so now they are fusing helium into carbon. Causing the star to expand in size until all the helium runs out in about one to two million years. The stars with the coolest temperatures appear red, and when a red supergiant star dies, it explodes into a supernova.”

You smirked as you listened to him, “When did you learn all this stuff about stars?” You asked him as you watched him turn his head to look at you.

“When I learned you enjoyed looking at the stars.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. You are important to me, and what you find enjoyable is important to me too.”

“You’re always there for me, aren’t you?”

"I will always be there for you. Whether you need me to simply info dump so your brain turns off, or you need someone to sit beside you in silence and hold your hand. I’ll always be there for you.”

As he said those words the image of him dangling from the rappelling cable came back into your mind, your smile fading as the sense of dread from before filled you again.

He didn’t have to ask to see what something was wrong, he moved his chair closer, and gently caressed your head, holding your hand, “Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay. Hey, look at me.” He tilted your head, using his forefinger to lift your chin, until your eyes met his.

“What��s wrong?” He gently wiped the tears that had been silently falling down your cheeks, “What is it? Was it a nightmare?”

You simply nodded afraid that speaking what you feared may come true.

“Was it a bad dream?”

Well that’s the thing, it wasn’t necessarily a bad dream, but the feeling that came with the dream is what made it worse. It was almost as though your heart was preparing you for a loss that you hadn’t even experienced yet, “I … I don’t know.” You finally answered, giving the only answer you really could.

Tech tilted his head as he looked at you, slowly guiding you out of your chair, to sit on his lap as his arms wrapped around you, gently rubbing your back as you tucked your head into his neck, wanting to hide from everything.

“Well… can you tell me what’s got you so upset. Was it something in the dream? Or was it something you realized because of the dream?”

“It …. It didn’t really …” you took a breath and closed your eyes as you wrapped your free arm around Tech holding him close, “It was about you.”

“Me. Okay. What about me? Did I say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Was I mean to you?”

“No.”

“Did this have to do with a mission?” You were silent. “Okay, a mission. Did something go wrong in the mission?”

“I don’t know… I think so. I saw an explosion.”

“Okay. Explosion, was someone injured because of the explosion?”

“No.”

“Was I in danger because of the explosion?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well what can you tell me?”

“You were dangling.”

“Dangling. Was I holding on to something for dear life, dangling? Or was I gripping onto Wrecker’s arm, and waiting for him to pull me back to safety dangling?”

“You were hanging over nothing from a rappelling cable. I know it doesn’t sound bad, but … I have this feeling.”

“Feeling?”

“Yes. I feel as though … I … I’ll lose you.”

Tech didn’t speak for a second, processing what you were saying, trying to understand the fear that had somehow embedded itself into your heart.

“So … you think I’ll die on this mission that we haven’t planned or even expected.”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but … I feel something big is going to happen, and because of that … we’ll be forced to make a decision. And because of that decision … I’ll …” your voice died down, barely above a whisper as you were about to answer him, “I’ll lose you. Forever.”

He let out a sigh, as he turned his head to kiss your forehead and wrapped his arms tighter around you, “Death is part of life, cyar’ika. You know that, I know that. These dreams … I know your force sensitive, not a Jedi, but at least somewhat knowledgeable of the force, and … it could mean a lot of things. It could mean that I’m simply dangling out in the open for a short amount of time. Could mean that I need to pack a second rappelling gun, in case the first one gets jammed it doesn’t mean I’m going to die.”

He took a minute to breathe in your scent leaving another kiss on your forehead, “And even if I die, it won’t change how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you. Ner cyare, please know that the time I’ve spent with you, being loved by you, having the privilege to love you in return has been some of the happiest and most loveliest days of my life. I look forward to every morning and night, because you’re there to make it better. I’m not saddened by the fact I may have to face my death, because I have no regrets.”

“I don’t want you to go” you stated, trying to fight back the tears despite the pricks you felt, “I’d rather have you alive and beside me. I …” you voice trembled as your bottom lip quivered, “I’m not ready to let you go.”

“Cyare, it was just a dream. I’m not going anywhere. Like I said there are no missions we plan on taking or are planning. I’m going to be right here.”

Tech held you for the rest of the night, even when you went back to your quarters, he didn’t stop holding you, keeping you pressed against him hoping to calm your fears and worries. He didn’t want to tell you, but the fact you may have dreamt his death, unnerved him a little. He shook the idea out of his mind, there was no need to worry. There were no missions coming up.

At least that’s what he thought, until he received the distress call from Crosshair.

Main Master List | Star Wars Fic Roulette

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gffa · 2 years

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Sometimes I cannot believe how much I appreciate the Obikin fandom and how much it’s spoiled me for giving me ridiculously charming fic, incredibly funny and hilarious fic, fic that breaks my heart, fic that heals my heart, fic that makes me want to gnaw on my own arm because I’m in awe of how amazing the authors are, how much a fic can smack my id straight on, how I can roll around in the fluff or wallow in the angst, how the fic runs the gamut of Obi-Wan and Anakin’s lifetimes, whether set during the Clone Wars or during the time of the Rebellion, whether it’s something nice or whether it’s Anakin being all Vadery and awful, there’s always someone writing something that makes me want to barf up rainbows for how good it is. So here’s a bunch of STAR WARS fics I think everyone should read because the fandom is amazing and there’s very few things I enjoy more than the feeling of being sated on a bunch of good fic. Or lots of quality banging. Or crying about these two idiots having terrible lives. Or just crying about feelings in general because you guys are amazing at punching me right in them. WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER'S HEAD

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT'S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU

OBIKIN RECS - CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED: ✦ Lonely Hearts Club by izazov, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 7.4k There are some things not even Chosen One can fix. Anakin learns this the hard way after a mission goes wrong. ✦ To be remembered by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 16.3k Various moments in Obi-Wan’s life, from his time as Anakin’s Master to the first nine years he spent on Tatooine. ✦ Out of the Bag by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 8.1k Obi-Wan has made his peace with his inappropriate feelings for his former Padawan. He knows there’s no room in their relationship for romance, and he’s used to denying himself for the greater good. He has everything under control: until Anakin comes back from a mission looking and acting a little different, and suddenly the relationship between Master and Padawan becomes a little fuzzy. ✦ every kind of love by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & cast, 2.7k wip Thousands of years pass and change is inevitable, even for the Jedi Order. Different groups break off, form new traditions, but in the end, they are all Jedi. And when the war comes, they fight for peace. ✦ of talks and romantic gestures by izazov, obi-wan/anakin, 3.8k Obi-Wan just wanted to arrive back to Coruscant on time. Anakin had other ideas. ✦ nor the suns fall by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, 1.4k “Hey,” Anakin says sharply—too sharply, he knows, and with a restless edge of fear. Obi-Wan’s eyes are blown so wide they’re hardly recognizable, barely a shadow of blue. They’re sliding closed again, the arc of his lashes too slow to be just a blink. Anakin takes a firm hold on his own voice, pitches it just keen enough to anchor beneath the blazing, barren sky. “Hey, stay with me, Obi-Wan.” ✦ wanting was enough by y0u_idjits, anakin/padme (& obi-wan/anakin), 1k A reporter asks another question but she doesn’t listen, too busy noticing how Anakin’s smile goes softer, sweeter, as Obi-Wan answers, and she becomes aware that he has never once smiled at her like that. No, this is a smile reserved only for Obi-Wan Kenobi. The realisation burns her to her core. ✦ illicit affairs by Urgirl415, obi-wan/anakin (& anakin/padme), NSFW, 2.2k Anakin needs something that Obi-Wan is more than willing to provide. Even if it means having his doorbell rung in the middle of the night. Or, Anakin cheats on Padme with Obi-Wan. Regularly. OBIKIN RECS - FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD: ✦ Satellite Mind by intermundia, septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 19.3k Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s. ✦ He’s Bringing Sweet Salvation by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, some d/s, 5.1k Anakin has been naughty and learns a little about patience, consideration and what we deserve ✦ eat, sleep, wake (nothing but you) by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.7k Obi-Wan twists his fingers inside him, pressing, pressing, and Anakin jolts with pleasure the exact same moment when an entirely different kind of noise rips through the room. A stomach growling. His stomach growling. Aggressively. ✦ Pretty Please by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 8.7k And with Obi-Wan’s words, Obi-Wan’s mouth on sensitive skin, and the way his hand presses Anakin possessively against his body, it’s all too easy for Anakin to slip up again. All too easy for him to throw his head back as his eyes fall shut and moan out, “Daddy.” ✦ coming quietly undone by MisanthropyMuse, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 7.6k “So, now’s later?” asks Anakin softly, one corner of his lips curling in amusement at the incoherent sentence that can only make sense for the two of them. “Force, yes,” responds Obi-Wan in a heavy sigh of relief, before raising his head and crashing his lips onto Anakin’s. ✦ hands-on by treescape, 3.6k Anakin’s been driving Obi-Wan mad. Obi-Wan does something about it. ✦ One’s Craze by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 17k As Obi-Wan learns the extent of Anakin’s greatest desires perhaps he’ll also learn his own. ✦ turn softness to rage, then tears to rain by starwarsyndrome (I_write_fanfiction_sometimes), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 5k Anakin Skywalker is the force made flesh, and sometimes that tears him apart at the seams. Obi-Wan has always been able to hold him together. How he does it changes as the years do ✦ Be Mindful of Your Thoughts (And Words) by des_nuages_de_paris, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 7k On a routine ship voyage across the stars, Anakin starts to get a bit bratty. Obi-wan decides to entertain him - and put him in his place. ✦ Baby Teeth by stardies, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, a/b/o, 8.2k wip During a mission, Anakin runs out of suppressants. Obi-wan Kenobi is called in to tend to his former padawan. ✦ hang it off my shoulders by transkenobi, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 7.4k Obi-Wan looks at him a moment, a frown flickering over his features but his eyes are unbearably soft. “I could leave. Or…” he swallows, averting his gaze for just a moment before he meets Anakin’s eyes again with a quiet resolution that Anakin recognizes all too well. “Dance with me.” Every irritated thought and rebuke comes to a halt and Anakin opens his mouth, brows knitting, completely thrown off. Of everything he’d been expecting Obi-Wan to say, it wasn’t that. What? “What?” ✦ a lesson learned is a lesson earned by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 4k Anakin refuses to talk and Obi-Wan coaxes it out of him. OR Anakin learns a lesson and Obi-Wan learns one too. ✦ PARK THAT BIG MAC TRUCK RIGHT IN THIS LIL GARAGE by badut, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4k Anakin Skywalker loves dick, but he loves big dicks even more. Specifically Obi-Wan’s. This has now become a problem, but it all works out, eventually. ✦ touch of heaven with a wild side by demi_fae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.3k “That was one of the things we were able to figure out while you were…” Anakin gestured to Obi-Wan who nodded for him to continue. “You would have to ask Kix about the specifics, but it’s some sort of combination reproductive and defense feature, and at this point it’s basically orgasm or…” Obi-Wan choked back a laugh. “Or death?” He asked, expecting Anakin to laugh with him. The silence that met him told him more than anything Anakin could have possibly said. “Oh.” “Yeah.” ✦ Pretty Kitty by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 2.2k “Master, you always take such good care of me,” Anakin says, a little chirp coming after his sentence, as his thumb rests on Anakin’s plump bottom lip. ✦ to seek something is to believe in its possibility by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 2.6k Anakin teases Obi-Wan to get what he wants. Spoiler alert: it works. ✦ Punished Hole by WhyIsBubbleGumBlue, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 1k Anakin gets smacks on his bottom hole, and then they fuck. ✦ Taking Care by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin & quinlan, NSFW, 8.5k wip A night out with Quinlan should be just the thing to help Obi-Wan relax after the outbreak of the war and all that entails. Anakin, as always, is there to make things difficult. OBIKIN RECS - DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT: ✦ flash point by treescape, obi-wan/vader, nsfw, 2.8k After capturing Obi-Wan on Mustafar, Vader does the only thing he can think of to keep his former Master close: he freezes Obi-Wan in carbonite. Every so often, he can’t resist the temptation of seeing Obi-Wan again and brings him out. ✦ this too shall pass by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/vader & cast, NSFW, time loop, read the warnings, 5k wip Anakin falls to the dark side and takes up the mantle of Darth Vader,butchers Jedi,betrays all he knows and loves, and he is left to burn on Mustafar by the man he once called master.Anakin becomes Darth Vader-and then he wakes up and lives it again-and then he wakes up and lives it again-and again-and again-and again. ✦ game plan by treescape, obi-wan/vader, NSFW, raised a sith!anakin, 11.2k Or, Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It’s kind of a thing. ✦ Coming back and going forward by Enthusiastic_Enthusiast, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, read the warnings, d/s, 5.5k Lord Vader has finally found a way to send his mind back in time. He is young and healthy again, and can’t wait to get his revenge on Obi-Wan, to make him pay for his betrayl, to push him down and make him pay. This time when the republic falls, Obi-Wan will witness it first hand, on his knees by Vaders side. The only problem? Vader isn’t the only one to return. ✦ Electric Love by thedeadparrot, obi-wan/vader, nsfw, 3.4k Vader stepped forward, deeper into the cell, and reached out one hand. It pressed against Obi-Wan’s tunic, clean metal meeting dirty fabric. Vader’s suit only had the most rudimentary of sensors – he preferred to use the Force over his physical hands. But this was Obi-Wan Kenobi offered up for him, and nothing less than physical touch would do. OBIKIN RECS - FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE: ✦ After everything, only us by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 9.2k Eight years after the Clone War came to an end and Sidious was captured, Anakin and Obi-Wan spend an evening together. Distance and circumstance have separated them for too long, but on this night, Anakin ends up with more than he could have hoped for. ✦ After the Storm by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, 7.3k If asked a year ago where he would be in the future, Obi-Wan would never have imagined himself in the middle of nowhere, mending socks and discussing latrine maintenance. ✦ The strongest stars… by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin & beru & cast, 7.4k The war’s end seems to be close, with everyone looking forward to it. And when Anakin is doubting himself the most, an unexpected visit arrives at the Temple. ✦ Homestead by JSwander, whohatessand, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia & cast, NSFW, 46.2k After their failed altercation on Mustafar, Obi-Wan Kenobi secretly stows away with his former Padawan now turned Sith Lord and traitor to the Republic. ✦ O Trespass Sweetly Urged by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 8.6k Anakin and Obi-Wan witness a sex ritual while on a mission. Obi-Wan doesn’t understand why Anakin is so scandalized by this, until Anakin admits that he’s never had sex. Obi-Wan…might need a minute to process that. ✦ climb like peas and beans by septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, trans!anakin, 4.9k wip Anakin Skywalker is different in a way that he can’t quite name, until he can. Obi-Wan Kenobi never fails to see his apprentice for who he is. And everything changes. ✦ sun of my right hand by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & luke, 4.3k wip What remains, keep it close. Holding the newborn he had carried from one end of the galaxy to the other, Obi-Wan Kenobi could not bring himself to give up the last member of his family. Instead of giving Luke to the Lars, Obi-Wan decided to raise Luke himself. OBIKIN RECS - WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM: ✦ Rotten Work by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, 2.8k Obi-Wan: I’ll take care of you. Anakin, with bloodshot eyes and a broken back from hours of terrible posture: It’s rotten work. Obi-Wan, who needs to bathe this man for his own sanity and health: Not to me. Not if it’s you. ✦ darkness shared, darkness halved by ahandsomebabe, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 8.2k Or: the one where Obi-Wan manipulates their force bond to give his partner multiple orgasms. ✦ Languages by Crowgirl, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.5k So Anakin pulls out a map and makes a list. ✦ deception: epilogue by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.2k Anakin and Obi-Wan renew the physical part of their relationship after Rako Hardeen ✦ Levels of Sincerity {cahshee, ankai'a} by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, 1k In which Ahsoka Tano has the most embarrassing Masters in at least two languages. ✦ who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, spanking, 3.6k Anakin purposely avoids doing what Obi-Wan tells him to do. ✦ watch the time go by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, a/b/o, 5.9k Obi-Wan has scheduled pack-bonding time. Obi-Wan also has a lot of work to do, not that Anakin and Ahsoka care. Or, pack bonding with the disaster lineage in the middle of a galactic war. ✦ small gestures and grand vows by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 6k Or, five times Obi-Wan and Anakin show how devoted they are to each other, and one time somebody demands proof and they are insulted. ✦ quiet the mind and the soul will speak by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 2.8k “You look tired,” Obi-Wan observed, his hand on his chin, after a particularly long strategy meeting. He matched Anakin’s pace as they walked through the halls. “Yeah, well,” Anakin yawned. “Someone woke me up early this morning,” he teased in a quiet voice. OBIKIN RECS - MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND: ✦ Prompted - Chapter 18: Brotherhood by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 7.1k Obi-Wan was already looking at the jail roster online when his phone rang. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 19: Hard Racing by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern AU, F1 racing au, 6.5k He wished he was back in his car, where everything made sense. His brain sometimes felt like a computer during a race, processing so much information in fractions of a second. He felt like he blended with the machine around him until he was just the operating system of the car, not a person at all. ✦ à la carte by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & quinlan & mace & satine & cast, NSFW, modern au, 55.6k Anakin Skywalker is a perfectly normal grad student. He spends his days at the robotics lab, his evenings working at an upscale restaurant and his weekends on inadvisable hookups. That is, until Obi-Wan Kenobi saunters into his workplace and sweeps him off his feet. ✦ turn back now (i’m haunted) by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & cast, modern au, supernatural au, 41.7k wip Anakin Skywalker’s house is haunted. Luckily for him, Padmé knows a ghost hunter. Unluckily for him, it’s the hottest, most english-professor ghost hunter he’s ever seen. And extremely unluckily for him, he’s starting to get the feeling he understands maybe ten percent of what’s actually going on here, not to mention what’s at stake. ✦ short shallow gasps by mysticmjolnir, obi-wan/anakin, d/s, 4.9k Obi-Wan gets surprised by Anakin when he comes home from work. ✦ does he make you laugh? by y0u_idjits, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 3.6k “Tell me it’s not about screwing the guy who’s screwing your husband.” “Ex-husband, and they’re not screwing,” Obi-Wan snipes at her. “And it’s not about that.” There’s a long pause. “Okay, it’s not all about that.” An Ocean’s Eleven AU ✦ recipe for disaster by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 9.8k When Ahsoka tells Anakin she doesn’t want to learn piano anymore, Anakin is heartbroken. He doesn’t care about the instrument, obviously, but he’s practically in love with her teacher. Obi-Wan offers up a solution to their impending separation, and it’s not dating like any normal person would suggest. Instead, he’s gonna teach Anakin how to cook. Except Anakin’s a pretty well-known chef, and Obi-Wan is absolutely awful in the kitchen. ✦ cute guy, fast car, i’m all yours by wanderlove, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 7.3k In which Anakin saves a rich lawyer from a low-level Hutt enforcer and gets himself railed as a reward. ✦ For Me, It’s You by edge_of_night, obi-wan/anakin & shmi & qui-gon & cast, modern au, 15.8k wip Obi-Wan knew one day he’d have to return home. As long as his father still lived, a piece of him would always be there. No matter how much he wanted to forget—he was raised there, he learned and grew, and spent his most formative years there. It’s also where he first fell in love. ✦ Morning delights by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.1k Obi-Wan woke up to the smell of Anakin cooking breakfast and decided to help. He swears those were his only intentions. ✦ Flashing Lights by des_nuages_de_paris, obi-wan/anakin & padme & satine & mace & cast, NSFW, modern au, 26.6k wip “Trust me.” Obi-wan turned to him. “It’s better than photoshopping it out. It gives him an edge. The scar, the hair, the brows…” He looked back over at Anakin, feeling his stomach flip. “It makes him look tough. Not enough male models can be pretty and tough.” “So I’m pretty?” Anakin grinned. ✦ i saw you and i knew by TheSopherfly, obi-wan/anakin & cody & rex, modern au, ballet au, 12.9k wip Anakin and Obi-Wan are dance partners at a contemporary dance company. They try to keep things professional. (It doesn’t work.) OBIKIN RECS - WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU: ✦ the ageless dark by maragny, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cody & rex & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, sith!anakin, 25.6k Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master and General of the Grand Army of the Republic, does not know what to make of his opponent, Separatist General and Sith Lord Darth Lessus…especially when he dreams of Lessus’ eyes, his smile, his voice saying Master, you’ve gone where I can’t follow. ✦ I only want you near me by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dragon!obi-wan, 5.2k Anakin tries to get used to having a dragon as a mate. Hunting days seem to be part of the routine. ✦ A Price Like No Other by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & cast, nsfw, a/b/o, raised a sith!anakin, 3.6k Never found by the Jedi, Anakin Skywalker at fourteen was pretty, and valuable. He was worth slightly more than the average slave, could count his worth in peggats, truguts, wupiupi, and Republic credits; water, too, if need be, and there always was on Tatooine. And then the heat came. ✦ you love him dearly by shatou, obi-wan/anakin & cast, raised a sith!anakin, 2.3k Anakin wakes up, panting, alone in the dark. Obi-Wan suggests meditation. ✦ tactile orders by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, senator!obi-wan, 3.2k Anakin is assigned to accompany Senator Kenobi on a mission. They’re stuck on a ship together for four days. ✦ In Pursuit of Cold Water by JSwander, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, merman!anakin, 41.4k wip Obi-Wan resolves to rescue a very stubborn merman from captivity and back to the ocean. ✦ et si les étoiles sont cachées by shatou, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, raised a sith!anakin, 2.8k “Master, what were you thinking?” Ahsoka hisses, eyes darting from him to the closed door of his bedroom, from where the sound of Anakin’s pacing is obvious. Her hand is still clutching one of her lightsabers, alert. ✦ always and forever by obikinn, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dragon!obi-wan, 2k “I think you should fuck me while you’re a dragon, tonight.” -Anakin Skywalker, known monsterfucker ✦ Fine Pearls & Bad Leather by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, bodyguard au, 1.6k Lord Kenobi spends the night in with the captain of his personal guard while abroad in the Lake Country. ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & mace & yoda & rex & palpatine & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 63.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can’t refuse. These things are, actually, related. ✦ together again by Anonymous, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, a/b/o, sith!obi-wan, 2.8k Anakin has been in hiding for months when his Alpha finally finds him.

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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fanaticsnail · 7 months

Note

I remember you mentioned having a Mihawk playlist, and the way you manage to find songs that perfectly fit the vibes of your fics and enhance the reading experience is one of the things I love about your writing

So I was wondering if you could share some of the songs on your playlist? Or even some songs that you associate with certain characters/tropes/scenarios?

I always love it when you send me asks, @sexc-snail.

I absolutely DO have a Mihawk playlist. I share the playlist construction with another creator on Tumblr who I love, cherish and adore: @sordidmusings. We add to it as we write, recommend songs as they come to us to help with words in works.

I could get into a long, long rant about music so I will add a page break here ❤. Lots of song recs to follow for the OPLA cast so far.

I am a violinist; have been playing for 25 years this year (I AM GETTING OLD, JEEPERS CREEPERS). Music is a great, passionate love affair for me and I adore learning about songs and pieces new and old. Here are some recommendations for songs and vibes I associate with the characters and the tropes.

I never add lyrics to my fics so the readers can visualize their own favourite melodies where they see fit, but I do have tunes in mind when I write them. The only fic I've really centralised a song about is the "You Should Be Sad" Mihawk fic I wrote a while back and the Koby series I'm writing.

Here are some song recommendations: all songs are Spotify linked. Enjoy a peek into my madness.

For the Characters

Luffy:

Long Way Home: Walk off the Earth, Lindsay Stirling

Following the Sun: SUPER-Hi, NEEKA

La Isla Bonita: Madonna

Zoro

Work Song: Hozier

Promise: Voyager

Cold Shot: Stevie Ray Vaughan

Sanji

Love Story: Indila

Know You Girls: Franz Ferdinand

Family Line: Conan Grey

Nami (She gets four, because she's amazing and I love her)

Runaway: Aurora

My Mother Told Me: NATI, Cullen Vance, Jonny Stewart

Outside: Ellie Golding, Calvin Harris

Queen of the Kings: Alessandra

Usopp

Mechanical Instinct: Aviators

The Higher Ground: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Eastside: Benny Blanco, Halsey, Khalid

Buggy

Be Your Shadow: The Wombats

Gasoline: Halsey

I Wanna Be Your Slave: Maneskin

Shanks:

The One that Got Away: The Civil Wars

Atlantis: Seafret

Barton Hollow: The Civil Wars

Mihawk

Seven Nation Army: Postmodern Jukebox

My Heart With You: The Rescues

The Snake: Lana Lubany

Koby (He also gets four, because he deserves only good things, and because Morgan Davies is Aussie like me)

Grieve No More: Patty Gurdy

Siuil A Run: Ella Roberts

Mad World: Jasmine Thompson

Again: Flyleaf

Helmeppo

Fighter: Christina Aguilera

Torn: Natalie Imbruglia

Elastic Heart: Sia

Garp

Sharp Dressed Man: ZZ Top

Under a Violet Moon: Blackmores Night

Billie Jean: The Civil Wars

For the Tropes

Unrequitted Love (My all time favourite thing)

Wrecking Ball: Beth

Can't Help Falling in Love: Tommee Profitt, Brooke

I Found: Amber Run

Comptine d'un autre ete l'apres-midi: Yann Tierson

Derniere Danse: Indila

Only in my Mind: Kenya Grace

Over and Over: Three Days Grace

Broken Pieces: Apocalyptica Lacey

Too Close: Alex Clare

Stupid Heart: Sorana

Enemies to Lovers

FMLYHM: Sether

Closer: NIN

Hella Good: No Doubt

Play With Fire: Sam Tinnesz, Yacht Money

Why'd You Only Ever Call Me When You're High: Arctic Monkeys

For when they give into their feelings:

Surrender: Natalie Taylor

As the World Caves In: Sarah Cothran

Freeze You Out: Marina Kaye

Say Yes To Heaven: Lana Del Rey

For when they give up but feelings are still there

Lose you to love me: Selena Gomez

Liar: Camilla Cabello

Darkside: Alan Walker

Say My Name: David Guetta, Bebe Rexha, J Balvin

Only Love Can Hurt Like This: Paloma Faith

I See Red: Everybody Loves an Outlaw

If you made it this far, thank you. This was a labour of love. Happy listening ❤

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royallyprincesslilly · 11 months

Text

Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Deception {12}

Master Chief Pablo x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Mild cursing, Plot, Angst, Violence, Slightly unhinged John, Creative Liberties Taken, Non-Canon Material,

Words: 2.8k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as a sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. Everything is different. You’re different. Master Chief is different and Halsey has taken notice. Under the guise of John needing “assistance” the rules of engagement have changed. Cortana is a part of him now. What does that mean for you and him? Is this the end?

Note I: AND WE ARE BACK!!!!

Note: II Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one-shots. They all can be read separately to understand, but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts. Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread AT ALL***

~~~~~~~~~

-John-

“Who are you loyal to, Cortana?”

It was something he’d asked out of the blue. Something he’d been pondering for a full 2 weeks now. It had been two weeks from hell. Before with the pellet, he didn’t know what he was missing. He didn’t know any better than to know that cold, aloofness with one thought in mind of a better Reach and better future for the human race was no way to live. He didn’t realize he was missing out on so much more, like joy, peace, fear, pleasure, and awe. He didn’t know how beautiful the sunset was before, or how warm the sunrises were. He didn’t understand that fear wasn’t a complete weakness but that it could make you stronger. He didn’t comprehend that having something to lose made him better. He also didn’t know that the touch of a kind hand, the graze of soft lips, and the heat of one body could be so addictive.

Yeah, the two weeks since he’d made the call to stay away from you had been a living hell. He'd lived through many hells before, but this was different. He struggled in ways he’d never before. Now everything wasn’t monotonous. He had to put real thought into every move, every word, every call because every single instinct he had was now rewired for one purpose. You. And that was a major problem. If anyone found out he was different, they’d find out about you and Gods only knew what would happen next.

He'd learned quite a bit more about Halsey and her motives for implanting Cortana in his head. He’d also uncovered more and more memories from his time as a child before he’d come to Reach. He’d thought she was his savior--his friend, but now he saw she may very well be the enemy. When he came face to face with that, the fear that had become a new sensation for him gripped him forcefully. He could handle Halsey himself and for himself, but you were his priority. He didn’t want any harm coming to you and vowed he’d protect you at all costs. Hell, he'd start a war if it meant keeping you safe and with him.

“I don’t understand the question, John. Please clarify.”

“It’s a simple inquiry, Cortana. Who—are—you—loyal—to?”

“Well--,” Cortana began before he cut her off.

“Is it Halsey, the UNSC, or me?”

Cortana didn’t answer immediately, and he wondered what her response would be. Over the last two weeks he’d been spending away from you, he’d been trying to learn more about the AI that was now a part of him. He learned she was always there, always listening, watching, and learning. She’d learned his habits, preferences, and speech patterns in days and had implemented her own ways to connect with him. She’d integrated her AI knowledge with his own synapses to make nominal tasks easier, faster, and better. Halsey had said she was meant to make him better and while he knew that was only half the reason for her creation, she hadn’t lied there.

“I was not aware there was a separation between those three options. Is Halsey not part of the UNSC? Did she not make you using UNSC tech and money? Does that not make you part of the UNSC as well? I am afraid I do not understand your question.”

“You’re being obtuse on purpose.”

That was when she appeared. She stood before him with a neutral expression on her face.

“I know the reason you were implanted inside my head. I know you are a means to an end for Halsey and that end is power and control and I know because you’re far more intelligent than normal humans that you understand that.”

He saw that she did. Halsey had implemented this being with free thought and evolutionary processes.

“I know you’ve been watching everything I do and reporting back to her.”

“John--,” Cortana began.

Again he cut her off. “Don’t insult my intelligence with a lie. It was after all what you were implanted to do.”

“I was joined with you to make you better.”

“And you are making me better but that doesn’t negate your primary objective.”

A long silence stretched as she computed the multiple ways this conversation could go. He knew she thought she was so careful that he hadn’t known when she was lagging with her responses that she was playing informer. He wondered just what she was feeding back to Halsey especially since he’d been so careful. He’d tapped into every innate programming from the pellet he’d lived with since he was a child, given himself over to the robotic existence he’d once lived, he’d even gone as far as to be harder and colder with you than anyone else.

Every instinct in him had to be suppressed in order to put on the show for Cortana so she would report to Halsey that everything was status quo.

“You knew,” Cortana dejectedly stated.

“Of course I knew.”

“And you let me report everything you wanted me to. You let me see what you wanted.”

“And they say AI is the future. If I could deceive you what makes you think Halsey is not as well?”

Cortana looked away and that was his clue that she had her own doubts about Halsey’s true motives and her real objectives with not only him but putting her inside of his head.

“So I ask again. Who are you loyal to?”

“I was created by Dr. Halsey.”

“And she created you with the capacity to know right from wrong. Have you any doubts of her own judgement between right and wrong especially with everything you’ve helped me unlock?”

Cortana’s eyes shifted from his and he saw her wavering.

“Tell you what. I have a way to test her, so the truth comes out.”

“John I cannot go against my creator.”

“Even if that creator has lied and does not have the fate of the human race in mind? She stole me from my family, brought me here and lied about it my entire life.”

“There has to be an explanation,” Cortana objected. “If she were against you once I told her that your pellet was gone she would have altered course and found a way to keep you compliant. She did not.”

Jackpot, he thought. He knew she’d told her that much. He scoffed because although she knew his pellet was gone she hadn’t done anything to him for one reason and one reason alone.

“Because I am the key to the keystones. I am the only path to what could be the greatest weapon in this fight between the races. I am the key to her getting everything she wants—more power and control. If those keystones fall into her hands you know things will be bad.”

Cortana stared at him as she connected the dots.

“Why would she do anything to me when she still needs me?”

Long moments passed in silence until a few minutes had went by.

“What would you have me do?”

“Play along, simple as that.”

Cortana nodded slowly and a plan formulated in his head. He’d learn firsthand just where her loyalties lay soon enough. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found they were against him.

~~~~~~~

As he walked into the mess hall he was half dreading it and half looking forward to it. He knew you would be sitting at the usual table between Kai and Miranda with Vannak and Riz on the other side of the table. Normally before the removal of the pellet, he’d sit on the other side of you while Kai was on one. Now that Miranda had taken a liking to interacting with you and Kai his place had been taken. Since his distancing himself from you, he’d skipped meals in the mess. They were too complex. If he wasn’t busy the new rewired instincts took over and he found it easier to give himself away. Tonight he could not resist the need to be near you.

Once he’d gotten his tray he made his way toward the table. It was Miranda who’d seen him first, then Kai and Vannak and Riz.

“Master chief,” Vannak said standing.

“At ease.”

You’d been smiling before his arrival but now the smile had somewhat faded and his heart sunk.

“Your heartrate just elevated Master chief, is everything all right?”

He ignored Cortana’s voice in his head then took a seat across from you. Your eyes dropped back to your tray where you took up your fork and pushed the food around the surface.

“Either you’d been living it up as Halsey’s lapdog or the great Master chief doesn’t need food anymore,” Kai teased.

Unlike him or even you for that matter Kai hadn’t seen a reason to pretend as if she didn’t feel the best she’d ever felt. She didn’t care if her personality seemed drastically different, didn’t care if it looked suspicious for her to be accepting wagers and bets with the other soldiers, or even that her hair had been dyed slightly pink. He envied her. He wished he could be as carefree about it as she had been. With that thought, his eyes slipped back to you.

You were steadily avoiding him. He wondered if this was as hard for you as it was for him. Did you toss and turn at night unable to find a comfortable position because he wasn’t beside you? Did you stare out to space at any given moment thinking about the times you spent together? Did you miss him the way he missed you? Did you crave his presence as he did yours? Did you wander around only to find yourself in front of his door but unable to knock?

“The keystones have been taking up a lot of my time,” he lied.

“Any new revelations there?”

He met Miranda’s curious eyes and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I’m sure the Covenant is not just sitting around waiting. Why are we?”

Vannak sounded annoyed and he understood. This coming war over these keystones was dangerous and sitting idly by was not a good call.

“I feel like something big is coming,” Miranda began, “Something we may not be prepared for and it makes me wonder who will save us all?”

It was then you raised your head and looked at Miranda.

“Say that again.”

“Uh—who—who will save us all?”

You looked as if you’d seen a Covenant soldier across the mess then your face went blank as if you’d disappeared in a haze of thought.

“Y/N?”

You shook your head then went back to your food. “Who will save us all,” you mumbled under your breath.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, wanted to establish this connection between you that he felt had been severely damaged, but he couldn’t. The anger from that shot through him like an electric shock and he bolted up then stomped out of the mess. He could feel the eyes of those around him trailing where he went. He hated this and was tired of it. The time was now. He had to know who was with him and was against him because he needed you and felt you needed him just as much.

As he stalked to the ship he knew Halsey was currently on, he tried to contain his anger so it wouldn’t interfere with his plan. This stunt could possibly get him court-martialed and decommissioned. He knew it was risky, but he also knew he was the UNSC. He slipped inside and saw Halsey inside flipping through notes and files completely oblivious to his arrival then reached the top of the door, pulled down the compartment, and yanked out the fuse cord which he knew supplied power, and oxygen to the room. He then stabbed a piece of metal tubing into the crack of the door, further preventing the override procedures that Halsey would try to initiate from taking effect.

That was when Cortana appeared.

“What’s going on John?”

“Thought you knew everything.”

She looked impassive so he went on to question her about her knowledge of Roman Quinn, the engineer of the ship he and Halsey were currently on. As she rattled off facts about the man who’d revolutionized the ships that were currently used throughout the UNSC, he went about adjusting parameters in the computers and walls. As Cortana gave a detailed lesson, Halsey called his name asking him time and time again what was happening.

He ignored them both.

“Why did you lock Dr. Halsey in her lab?”

Ignoring her again he dropped a piece of his reasoning. “Quinn knew that no matter how advanced, something could go bad and he built fail-safes into all his designs. All his designs except one. The UV Decontamination system.”

He sealed his fate and initiated the beginning of his game and test as he walked back to the door to where Halsey was panicking.

“John!”

He finished his lesson on Roman Quinn by telling where he failed and how simple it was to not fail. Cortana slowly understood then.

“You’re not going to--.”

He smirked, then went to watch the show. Halsey buzzed around the room, trying her best to initiate an override to all he’d done, but no matter which side of the room she went there was no override. He slowly watched her calm, reserved, genius façade fall. He watched the woman who’d been a mastermind of so many things throughout the years feel the inevitability of consequences. He watched her slowly come to the realization that he saw her—completely and now she was going to see him. He was not to be trifled with nor underestimated.

“Nope,” he said popping the “p” in the word. “I feel great!”

“You can’t do this you’re not thinking clearly. You’re overworked, tired--.”

“You don’t understand what will happen if the systems fail with her in there,” Cortana reasoned.

“Oh, but I do. She will receive a very large dose of radiation,” he said matter of factly as f it didn't matter to him one way or another.

He went closer to the door and explained Quinn’s untimely death and the very bloody aftermath.

“John! Open the door right now!”

He glared at Halsey but was unmoving even face to face with her distress. Halsey looked at Cortana.

“Open the door, Cortana.”

“I can’t,” the AI said.

He scoffed. “Make me.”

Cortana stared at him, and he could tell she was going through the possibilities and their repercussions.

“You’re my fail-safe right?”

“I am not. It’s not true. You have to open it.”

“John please,” Halsey begged as she banged on the door.

“She’s been lying my entire life. You know this. You’ve seen it. You’ve noted her lies and infalicies with her thinking. She put you inside my head to keep me in line because she knew once I found out the whole truth I would no longer be under her control, no longer be her obedient little soilder. She put you in here to control me. So do it!”

His shout echoed throughout the ship.

“I can’t. All I can do is overload your neural pathways and put you in a stasis that is temporary. I can’t make you do anything. I can’t control you, nor would I want to. I understand you are angry at Dr. Halsey and no longer trust her.”

“You understand nothing! Do it!”

“I can’t.”

The numbers on the door decreased rounding down to ten but still he didn’t budge.

“Do it!”

“She will die in seconds. John please!”

Halsey’s screams were louder now as her death drew nearer and nearer. Cortana’s features never wavered.

“I’m sorry for stealing you from your family. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for trying to control you your entire life,” Halsey screamed as tears rolled down her cheeks.

He stared her down finally face to face with her lies. She’d finally admitted them. Finally laid those cards out.

“John please.”

The numbers fell to zero and the hiss of the vent in the room began. He had his answers and proof of loyalty. Freeing the door, he allowed it to open then yanked Halsey out in the nick of time before sealing the room again. Halsey lay there panting before she turned over and looked up at him with something he’d never seen from her. Fear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He clenched his jaw as he stared down at her. This woman was not his friend nor his savior. He knew that now.

“The time for I’m sorries are long gone. They mean nothing to me now.”

With that he walked past her leaving her on the cold steel floor. No doubt Aldon would be along to pick up the pieces. For now, she knew where she stood with him. They were finally both seeing each other as they truly were.

“Who are you loyal to?”

She didn’t appear but she replied. “To you John. I am loyal to you.”

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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

TagList:

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @caramara3 @violinchick @laurenstacy610 @pinheadbanger @morganas-pendragons @shar74nett @lialacleaf @laurenstacy610 @marvel-at-my-obsession @casually-dancing-fairy @beyourownkindofbeautiful @momobaby227 @chaneajoyyy @piscesgyalinit @amaraohara @117s-girl @xxdeankratosgirlxx @weirdodreamergirl @keytodespair @sugakookie9197 @emarich7 @fanartcollectorwriter@gardenwonders2 @swndmans @thehumanistsdiary @flowers801 @aconstructofamind

@nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans

#pablo schreiber #halo: a masterchief collection #master chief #halo fanfiction #pablo schreiber fanfiction #master chief fanfiction #deception one shot #halo paramount #master chief x reader #master chief x you #master chief x ofc #grumpy x sunshine #john 117 #halo the series #halo tv #halo fanfic

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compacflt · 6 months

Note

hi! im learning so much from your blog and its endlessly fascinating to me, im not american so i knew next to nothing about the us military before getting into tg (still dont know that much but. more than before), i never cared about or defined myself by us political terms but now i really want to know and understand the tg characters and its fascinating to me how much politics is a part of that, so thank you for sharing your views on that on here, id be lost without them!

(i havent read your fic yet because idk if im emotianally ready for it yet but when i do. im sure its gonna be great)

haha I do sort of worry that I’ve made top gun too political. I think I’ve always just been trying to come to terms with the fact that… top gun wasn’t really made for me.

I saw Top Gun: Maverick for the first time in a movie theatre in rural southern Oregon…. Which, if you’re not American/didn’t know, is a part of the country characterized by Jesus-loving gun-toting “patriots.” The theatre was a full house. Everyone loved TGM. It’s NOT an apolitical movie. It pushes a WWII-era narrative about the “American underdog” military that appeals to a certain subset of the population: the military deserves more resources because our heroes are disadvantaged on the battlefield (F-18 vs SU-57), though of course in real life no more than a dozen SU-57s have actually been produced, and American fighters… don’t engage in dogfights anymore. Cain was right, no matter how much TGM wants to sensationalize the adventurism of real life pilots: drone warfare is making extinct manned fighter jets. TGM is geopolitically out of date. —And whether we like it or not, it is straight-up recruiting propaganda. The main emotional thrust of the movie is that we (audience) are supposed to sympathize with Bradley, who wants nothing more than to Join The Navy. We are supposed to be mad at Maverick (and later, conveniently, our scapegoat Carole) for preventing Bradley from Joining The Navy. The story of TGM does not make sense if the Navy isn’t the most desirable place to be. Top Gun: Maverick isn’t just recruitment MATERIAL; fundamentally it is a recruitment STORY. I feel like that’s an important metatextual aspect to engage with & acknowledge.

I’ve said elsewhere on my blog, the target audience for TGM is Republican dads of teenage boys: men who were teenagers when the first Top Gun came out, and have that nostalgia for a more dangerous/more exciting military, and are in the position to influence their sons to join up. The Navy would not have let Tom Cruise et al rent their $20,000-an-hour-operating-cost airplanes if that weren’t the case. Top Gun wasn’t really made for people like me.

Obviously how people in fandom engage with the source text is their decision. But engaging with Top Gun & Top Gun: Maverick is to engage with the Reagan-era reactionary, hawkish Cold War foreign policy that inspired Top Gun (the 1981 Gulf of Sidra incident really springs to mind—it would’ve been in the minds of many people watching Top Gun in 1986), and then the subsequent NOSTALGIA for that time period that inspired Top Gun: Maverick. They’re not apolitical movies at all; they have an agenda. It’s good to take their agendas seriously.

I hope if you read my fics you enjoy them 😊

#this is my last answered ask for a while #I do a lot of handwringing #there’s a reason i don’t tell irls i write top gun fanfic #it’s a conservative-coded IP!#I’m not telling people ‘you should write political fic’#but i AM telling people it is good critical practice to understand/take seriously the politics of a source text before you transform it #in fandom.#fun military movies are still fundamentally military movies.#top gun #top gun maverick

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subwaysurf45 · 2 years

Text

The Time of the Prey (Epilogue)

Summary: The younger sister of the most talked about princess in the kingdoms really can’t do much except smile and nod. When Natasha, your sister, finally goes to moves all of you to Shieldshire to marry her beloved Prince Steve you are left with your art, all alone. But one Knight took it upon himself to keep you company, and that company was all you needed to get through wedding season. Will that company last or will it be ripped away from the both of you? A war is starting and it seems targets are being made.

Pairing: Knight!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, wrapping everything up, Its over!!! :(

A/N: thank you so much for the constant love and support on this fic. I want to thank the people who waited an entire summer for this series, I hope it was worth the wait! I had so much writing for this AU and hope you enjoyed reading! I will be writing one shots and will be posting about sending requestions if you haven’t seen it already!!!

Series Masterlist II Series Playlist

SIX MONTHS LATER

In the depth of the winter you stood in front of you mirror, slightly tugging at your jacket to get it to sit just right. Your stomach was twisting and turning all morning, Bucky noticed how you couldn’t sit still during breakfast. It didn’t help that his feet gently brushed along your leg as you ate, his hand also holding yours whenever he didn’t need to cut his food.

Beside you was a trunk, the same one you brought when you first arrived at Shieldshire. It was still scraped and dented around the edges but when you looked at those marks you remembered the journey, the love you created, and the moments you’ll remember forever; for better or for worse.

Most handmaids would carry the trunk for you but you chose against that, handmaids weren’t as used in your castle than others you realized. You walked quickly around the small castle, making your way to the front gates and nodding to the guards as you passed by. Escorts weren’t your thing anymore unless it was Bucky walking beside you, and he was training young kids this morning.

The small building off to the side of the castle had people of all ages walking in it, from the extremely poor to the Lords who lived within the castle. They all had their trunks clutched tightly in the cold weather, there was nothing warm about the Southlands.

“Good morning,” you smiled as you walked in, seeing everyone setting up their stations.

Everyone responded in their own manner, some looked up from their spots and others stayed quiet. You moved to the front of the room and faced everyone, setting down your trunk and opening it.

Your easel and paint were quickly set up, people were blowing cold air on their complimentary warm lemon waters. You scanned the room and waited until everyone looked ready to begin, when most of them were ready you began to teach.

“Today we are going to cover shadows,” your canvas faced the group of around fifteen, and using an inked quill you began to draw a circle, “we are going to draw our circle like so,” you faced the group and saw them all begin, “then we are going to choose where our light source is coming from, can someone tell me an example of a light source?”

“The sun!” someone called from the back.

“Wonderful,” you nodded with a smile, “another example is a candle, can you remember how the corner of the page closest to the candle or lantern is always the easit part to see?” people’s eyes lit up with understanding. In the beginning, it was hard to remember people of all different walks of life who joined your lessons to learn how to draw and paint.

You had decided to start with quil and ink first before getting into paints because they were much harder for beginners to use, it also costed more to buy paint now because of the kingdoms coming back from the war. The Free Lands had faught against the Red River and combined the two kingdoms, now producing most of the realm's dye and fabrics. Lands disputes had fallen, the realm was healing but it came with a price.

Not too long later the lesson was complete, people took their boards off of their easels and left the little space, making their way back to the castle or into the common wealth lands. People from Flea Bottom were slow to move back, you were in talks with your mother about cleaner water for drinking and bathing but it was a long and tiring process.

Accepting you were an heir took a shorter time than expected, you were slowly falling in love with politics but those thoughts scared you. There was nothing you hated more than feeling as though no matter when you did you let some party down, not always helping everyone. Your mother helped you get through that easily, telling you stories of how she believe her ideas were for the greater good but ended up failing, blowing up right in her face. It didn’t ease your mind in the slightest but it was nice to know someone as perfect as your mother made mistakes.

As you walked along the white fluff to head back to the castle, your feet trudged through the snow. The Northern Lands would go through a freezing over period which caused snow to grow to double the height of their houses, the Southlands got some but it only reached your ankle.

You had talking a great a deal about staying put in the kingdom, part of you still wanted to visit the Free Lands just to see how their democracy was going. From word of mouth you heard it was smooth, no issues and laws were created faster. Part of you kept that in the back of your mind as you thought about your families line of succession - or lack thereof.

You were dead set on not having kids, nothing was going to change that. No amount of royal duty could make you squeeze a child out of you, there was simply no world that would happen. Bucky was more than content with that, childbirth was a scary thing, if a mother had five children only two would make it to adulthood. You would always shiver at the numbers when it came to mother mortality, you were never going to take that risk.

So, who would come after you?

Democracy was coming and there was no way to stop it.

“I honestly think you walking and thinking is the scariest thing in the world,” all of a sudden Bucky appeared in front of you, blocking you from walking into a wall, your nose almost smacking into the grey cinder blocks. “What is troubling you, my sweet?”

You just smiled and shook your head, “Just royal stuff, succession and kingdoms and responsibility and-”

“You’re doing it again,” he commented, taking your hand in his and walking you to your shared room. You didn’t have to ask, he knew you needed a break. “You always do this,” as Bucky spoke to took a moment to admire him and much you missed seeing him in his royal clothes and not the ratty tunics, “you think and think and think, it never ends, you have to give that smart brain of your a day off- at least an hour!” Bucky laughed with you, squeezing your hand and leaning into you.

“How was the training?” your hand pressed against your forehead, feeling how cold it was.

“Cold,” Bucky laughed, “those boys don’t know anything about fighting in the snow, how much more they have to move and step, they’ll learn someday,” he shook his head, “do you want to get some soup and bread before we go to our room?” You nodded and Bucky found a handmaid, “would you mind grabbing those soup-bread-bowl-things?” the handmaid laughed, Bucky did as well, “do you know what I’m referring to?”

“Of course,” she smiled and walked away, heading towards the kitchens.

Once you reached your bedroom you took off the gloves and jacket you were wearing, also helping Bucky out of the beige padded tunic he wore when teaching the kids how to fight. You had asked again about the training, especially one kid Bucky had a liking towards. “I don’t think you understand how great he will be once he reaches my age, the kid is ten and six and can already flip as he fights,” Bucky laughed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “there’s a reason the young ones call him Hercules.”

You laughed as well, going to the door and grabbing the two bowls which were actuall bread, “I still am fascinated by these things, truely, I must meet whoever made them,” you passed one to Bucky, flicking off the crumbs that immediately flaked onto his pants.

You both ate side by side, brushing against eachother’s shoulders as you leaned in. for the majority of the time you ate in silence but it was comfortable, just enjoying one another company.

After a while you felt the hair on the back on your neck stand up, freezing where you were and looked over to Bucky who was already staring at you, lost in thought. You giggled to try and break the tension, “what?” you leaned into him.

“For the life of me I can’t understand,” he whispered, “here you sit: an heir to a massive kingdom and allies with another strong contender and you do nothing to get the revenge of the men that hurt you,” he sighed and bit into his bread.

You looked forward with a sigh, “I honestly don’t know,” was all you could offer on the surface but the answer was right there, “it always comes back to my father,” you looked over at Bucky who grew remorseful, probably kicking himself for making you think about your father, “he was always violent and agressive and harsh,” your spoon collected the last bit of broth that hadn’t seeped into the bread, “I want to be the opposite of him, which meant I must stay composed, I can’t be violent - I have to use my brain, something he never did.”

Bucky hummed, “that does make sense,” he spoke with a full mouth but used the back of his hand to cover as he spoke, “you’re always so detailed like that, I love it.”

You laughed, “one of us needs to hold eachother back from doing the irrational,” you began to bite into your bread. Bucky just looked at you and shook his head, smiling to himself. “Stop doing that,” you laughed and placed your bread down, wrapping your arms around him and pushing him to fall back, making him scramble to put his bread bowl down as well.

“What are you doing?” he laughed as you rolled on top of him, “this is my thing!” Your arms stayed wrapped around his neck and you laid your head on his chest, feeling him slowly wrap his arms around you. “How are your scars?” the question seemed to come out of no where but you could tell he was feeling them through the dress.

They were completely healed and at no risk for infection but the skin still sat with a bump, causing jagged lines to be left for the rest of your life. In the beginning you thought Bucky would try to avoid them as much as possible but he didn’t, most of the time tracing them or sneaking a few kisses in when you slept with your back to him.

“All good,” you whispered and closed your eyes, “that feels nice,” you sighed as he gently slid his fingertips against your back, he continued to do so. Your body began to feel heavier and sleep crept up on you, pulling you deeper and deeper.

“You are one of the good ones on this planet,” you heard from above you right before sleep fully washed over.

Thanks for all the love and reading, if you enjoyed don’t be afraid to reblog!

- Rambo <3

Taglist: tag list: @maybeimart @imtherain @jackiehollanderr @redneckstrash @tylard-blog1 @readingbooksanddrinkingtea-blog @linzc-reader @honeybunchesofbucky @sky0405 @striving4averagegirl @seybox @yaszx @happyt0exist @munsonette @searchf0rtheskyline @aya-fay @emi11ie @prettywhenicry420 @theluvcafe @whatsmylaneagain @sparkletash @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @daydreaminglightly @desert-fern @wdyss @crazy4seb-chris @death-sonata @namelesssav

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screechthemighty · 2 months

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Hark! The penultimate chapter of this God of War fic is here! Fair warning, some stuff discussed in this chapter isn't going to be resolved in this fic...because that's what the sequel is for. >:3c But I just wanted to let everyone know before I post the final chapter/epilogue (which hopefully won't take too long?? But with me you never know). Anyways, AO3 link in a reblog as always, but enjoy the full text below!

will you greet the daylight looming? part 5/6: winter

cw: vomiting mention, animal death, references to odin being a shitty ableist father

When he opened the door to the first snow of winter, Kratos felt…underwhelmed.

The snowfalls of Fimbulwitner were still fresh in his mind–large, thick flakes covering the ground so quickly that any attempts at digging out of the house were doomed to fail. He’d spent three years struggling through drifts up to his waist, across frozen rivers and lakes and a landscape changed almost beyond recognition.

This, in comparison, was nothing. A light dusting coated the ground. The air was brisk and cold, but not the biting chill of Fimbulwinter. He surveyed the forest, sighed, and went back inside to retrieve Mimir. “Hunting won’t be a problem,” he said.

“Well, thank goodness for that,” Mimir said. “Suspect the young ones will be disappointed they won’t be able to use the snow to get out of practice.”

“They wouldn’t regardless. They need to learn to fight in any conditions.”

“Of course they do.” Kratos stepped back outside and started down the path to Speki and Svanna’s kennel. “Did you have snow in Greece?”

“Mostly in the mountains. Never like here.” Kratos tilted his face back, feeling the snowflakes melt as they touched his skin. “What about your homeland?”

“Oh! Well.” Mimir sounded surprised. He didn’t often speak of his homeland, only that he was from someplace else, and Kratos had never really asked. Perhaps I should start asking. “That depends. It snowed more where I lived when I was a lad, but it was a lot more temperate where my first lord lived. He wasn’t fond of the cold.”

“He could control the weather?”

“Something like that. We had the odd bit of snowfall, more like this, really, but nothing like here. Took some getting used to when I came north. Especially back when I had more bits to worry about keeping warm.”

“...do you miss it?”

Mimir was quiet. He didn’t speak until Kratos had finished hitching the wolves to the sled. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “Not all of it…and I probably only remember the good parts when I do miss it. But sometimes, yeah. Do you?”

Kratos didn’t have to think long. “The same as you,” he said. “Only sometimes. Only when my regrets return.” All the moments he would have done differently. The things he would have changed. But…

“No making things right, eh?” Mimir said quietly.

“Hmm. Only better than they were.”

And with that, he got onto the sled and urged the wolves forward. There was work to be done. Things to be made better.

Even a mild winter would bring its trials.

There was a time when he could have said that he didn’t care. That the various groups setting in Midgard should settle their differences among themselves and leave him out of it.

Kratos could not do that anymore. Freya was right: he trained their children. He went to their village almost every day. He was a part of this now. He could not simply walk away.

That knowledge did not make the conversation less frustrating.

“Did you actually see anyone enter the storehouse?” Kratos said, struggling to keep his tone even. He didn’t think he was successful; if the look on the mortal’s face was any indication, he still sounded angry. Kratos was beginning to think that tone was beyond his control.

“Well…” The man twisted his cloak in his hands. Kratos had already forgotten his name, but he knew the man was more or less in charge of the village half a day away. “...no…sir…”

“Then you cannot prove that anyone from here was responsible for the theft?”

“Well, who else would it be?”

“Thieves. Plenty of raiders never left Midgard. You do understand this, correct?” He had done his best to eradicate them, or at least strongly encourage them to move on, but many had gone deep into hiding as spring and summer returned. Winter and its lack of resources would likely draw them back out. “They will only grow bolder moving forward. I suggest you find more competent guards instead of starting fights.”

“But…”

“If there is a problem, I will handle it. If you require assistance, ask. But now is not the time for us to fight among ourselves. Do I make myself clear?”

The mortal’s face reddened. “Yes…sir?”

Kratos noted the questioning tone, and simply grunted his approval at the title. He still hadn’t given one (still didn’t want to give one), but sir he would allow. “Do your people require assistance?”

“No, sir.”

“Then we are done here.”

The man departed, leaving Kratos with a headache and a roomful of nervous stares. “Do we have any reason to suspect someone might be stealing from other towns?” he asked with a sigh. “Any at all?”

“None that I can think of,” spoke up one man, Leif. From what Kratos remembered, he served as a sort of quartermaster for the town. “We’ve stored up plenty. There isn’t a need, though…I reckon that wouldn’t stop some people, would it?”

It certainly wouldn’t, and that could cause problems in the long term. Another voice spoke up, this time a woman. “Haven’t noticed anyone sneaking out, for what it’s worth,” she said. Helga was her name. She wasn’t one of the Asgard transplants; she and her people had managed to survive in an abandoned mine through the Desolation and Fimbulwinter. Kratos had been the one to suggest them when the town started forming a militia. By all accounts, they were very good at it. “We started a curfew, on account of the wolves and such. Set up patrols. No one’s gone in or out at odd hours that we’ve seen. No one coming in carrying anything, either.”

That was reassuring, at least. “You should increase your numbers, just in case,” Kratos said. “If other places are facing raiders, it is only a matter of time. I have older students who are ready. I will speak to them.”

Helga nodded grimly. Leif sighed. “If you’ll pardon my language, sir,” he said, “I can’t fucking stand winter.”

Kratos grunted in agreement. This winter may not have been as fierce as Fimbulwinter, but he could already tell it was going to be long.

When the first fight finally came, it had nothing to do with raiders. The wolves were growing just as desperate as the mortals, and to them, meat was meat. Goats and small children were just as easy to catch.

He was examining the town’s defenses when he heard the shouting. Kratos ran towards the sound instinctively, drawing Leviathan as he went. A few of his students saw him and joined in the rush, Skjöldr among them. The drills must have been working, because they fell into formation without being instructed. Good, he thought. Well done.

It was over by the time they reached the scuffle–or, more accurately, the ending of it. The animal was dead, a spear deep in its side, having collapsed on top of a smaller form. Kratos ran forward to push the creature aside; Davin was underneath, body trembling, eyes wide, hands still trying to clasp the knife he’d sunk deep into the wolf’s throat. He was covered in blood. It was hard to say how much of it was his. “Are you injured?” Kratos asked.

“...uh…” Davin looked up at him. The closer look showed scrapes across his cheekbone. He must have managed to pull his head back before the teeth could sink in too deeply. “I got it.”

“I can see that.” Kratos looked around. There was a dead goat nearby, and two trembling children nearby. Both looked unharmed, but shaken. “Can you stand?”

Davin could. Kratos carefully examined him for injuries as the others who’d followed him gathered around the wolf. “Shit,” Skjöldr said. “You really got him, Dav!”

“I…” Davin stared at the wolf. “Y-yeah. I…I did have to move to the left. You were right.”

“It is good you remembered.” Davin’s tunic was torn, but there was no sign of injury underneath. The cuts on his cheek seemed the worst of it. They would have to monitor him for infection or illness, but he was very lucky beyond that. “Well done.”

Davin stared at him for a long moment. Then a grin split his face, his teeth vibrant white against his blood and dirt-stained face. “Thank you, sir!”

The boy’s cuts were cleaned and mended. Someone in the town made him a cloak of the wolf’s fur. No further harm came to the boy.

Kratos hoped it would be the most exciting thing to happen all winter. He knew better than to hope too hard.

“So,” Höðr said casually, “how’s Freya doing?”

Kratos knew a leading question when he saw one. He could immediately guess why Höðr was asking; it was an implication he had been trying to avoid, one he did not appreciate hearing from a member of Asgard’s court. Especially not one who seemed so nosy.

“Freya is fine,” Kratos said tersely. He glanced the blind god’s way. Höðr leaned against a nearby building, his cloak pulled tightly around his body. Someone had given him a haircut, making him look somewhat less haggard than before. “Why?”

He expected a smirk, another cryptic comment, or for the god to simply walk away. Instead, Höðr sighed and held up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I thought,” he said, “that you two would want to get ahead of things. And I don’t really know how to contact her, so…” He gestured towards Kratos. “...here we are.”

It was difficult to tell if he was being sincere. He sounded sincere, his body language was sincere, and he must have known that Kratos would not be pleased if Höðr tried to deceive him. That didn’t answer one question: “Why do you care?”

Freya’s brother, dead though he was, had been the one to blind Höðr. She was Vanir, his former enemy, an interloper on his court. Kratos was the ultimate interloper, a foreign god from a foreign land who had helped overthrow Odin and was dangerously close to being worshipped here. Yes, they were technically at peace. Kratos knew better than anyone that this peace was not necessarily welcome.

Höðr considered his answer carefully. His fingers drummed slightly against his staff. “I know this might sound hard to believe,” he said, “but I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. Some people might, but I’m not one of them.” He smiled briefly, almost embarrassed. “If nothing else, you can trust that. I wasn’t exactly benefitting from being Aesir in those days.”

“And you’re benefitting now?”

“I can walk around most places without feeling like I’m going to be heckled or have something thrown at me, so…yes, very much so.” There was a harshness to his smile now, as if he were still bracing himself for that treatment. “You don’t have to believe me, but can you at least do a poor blind god the mercy of letting him say his piece?”

Kratos considered the offer before nodding. “Speak, then.” Even if Höðr’s words were lies, those lies could still be valuable.

Höðr’s head tilted slightly, as if he were listening for something before he began speaking. “I would’ve written it off as idle gossip if it hadn’t escalated so quickly. In my experience, you don’t really go from a few people thinking you two would make a handsome couple to everyone being sure you two have some secret romance without someone having a hand in it. No one’s tied it back into what happened with Odin yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tried.”

Kratos raised an eyebrow. “She broke it off with him,” he pointed out.

“Yes, true, and I wouldn’t exactly call him a faithful husband,” Höðr conceded, “but none of those facts are going to matter in the face of a good scandal, are they?”

No, they wouldn’t.

“I don’t know if this has spread to Vanaheim yet, but if it were me, I’d be keeping an ear on it,” Höðr finished. “The winter’s only going to get colder, and the lean months can make people believe all sorts of things.” This time, Höðr turned his face to the wind, as if test the temperature, feeling the currents and what they may bring. “I can keep an ear out myself, if you want.”

Kratos wasn’t sure about that. Höðr hadn’t done anything to harm him, but that didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t malicious. “You didn’t ask,” Kratos pointed out.

“Didn’t ask what?”

“If we are together.”

Höðr shrugged. “Not my business. And you’ll want to get out ahead of it either way, so it doesn’t really matter. Congratulations if you managed to win her, though.” A slight smirk tugged at Höðr’s lips as he pulled away. “And good luck.”

Kratos grunted in response, and watched the blind god leave.

He debated if she should speak to Freya or Mimir first. Perhaps both of them at once. She deserved to know about the possibility of rumors, and Mimir’s guidance in the matter would be helpful. Kratos had been in the habit of ignoring rumors about him back on Olympus, but he couldn’t afford to do that this time. This was a problem that had to be addressed.

He may not have been addressing it alone, but the thought still made him feel weary. I never had these problems when I lived alone, he thought.

Despite that, as he walked back to his students, he couldn’t help thinking that he didn’t want to give this up.

Freya took the news about as well as could be expected: by sighing heavily and immediately getting up to pour herself some mead. “I should have seen this coming,” she said. She sounded calm, which Kratos knew likely meant she was furious. “Of course someone would try to undermine me with a connection to a man. No offense meant.”

“None taken.” She had more to lose from this rumor than he did and he knew it. Kratos had no right to be offended. “How do you want to handle this?”

Freya took a long, long drain from her mead. Kratos didn’t interrupt. She was more than capable of considering the question and taking a drink. “For now? Nothing,” she said. “I want to see who’s spreading this around. It might help us narrow things down.” She turned to Mimir. “Do you think we can trust Höðr?”

“Well…I think we can trust that he wasn’t lying about not wanting things to go back the way they were,” Mimir said. “He was Odin’s spy master until he was blinded. After that happened, Odin replaced him with the Raven Keeper and cast him aside. He reckoned Höðr being blinded by the enemy reflected poorly on Asgard. No one treated the poor lad well after that…except Týr, whenever he had time for him.”

Kratos thought back to their conversation at the harvest feast, the way that Höðr introduced himself with his mother’s name and seemed genuinely glad to see Angrboda alive. Perhaps the isolation had given him some time to reflect on where his loyalties were. “We could consult Týr,” he said. “He may know if Höðr has any ulterior motives.”

“Agreed,” Freya said. “Assuming you can find him.”

Of course, it wouldn’t be that simple. “Has he left?”

“I don’t think he’s gone far. He’s just developed the disposition of a barn cat. He comes and goes and you’re never sure when you’re going to see him again. I’ve been trying to get a council together and it’s been a pain trying to find him to discuss things. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I have.” Freya smirked slightly as she sipped her mead. “It takes a hermit of a war god to know one, right?”

Kratos wanted to argue, but was immediately annoyed to find that he couldn’t.

He was even more annoyed when Freya ended up being right. All Kratos had to do was ask himself where he would go if he were Týr and start checking those places. He found the war god at the second spot. “Not a word,” he grumbled to Mimir.

“Wasn’t going to say anything, brother,” Mimir said. “Honestly, I was just enjoying the more temperate weather.”

“Hmm.” It was true; Alfheim was warmer than Midgard at this time of year. Even if the winter at home was temperate compared to Fimbulwinter, and even if the fighting in Alfheim was still irritating to avoid, it was worth coming to the realm on occasion for the temperature change. Týr seemed to think so; he was sitting cross-legged along one of the river banks, staring out at the running water. He didn’t look away as Kratos joined him. “Did Freya send you?” he asked.

Kratos shook his head. “I have my own questions,” he said as he carefully set down Mimir. “About your brother, Höðr.”

Týr frowned slightly. “He’s not bothering you, is he?”

“He passed along some important information. I wanted to know what his intentions might be.”

Týr considered the statement. “I can tell you this much,” he said after some thought, “he’s definitely not on the side of anyone who might want to reinstate Asgard’s old rule. Between how Odin treated him after he lost his sight and…” A note of grief entered the war god’s voice. “…what happened with mother…he has no love for the way things were. I can’t say if he’s on any side but his own, but his desires are more aligned with ours. And any information he has is good. He might be a nosy little brat sometimes, but he only shares what he can verify.” A fond, if exasperated smile replaced the grief. “It’s not gossip if it’s true, he’d always say.”

“Hmm.” So, there were definitely rumors being spread about him and Freya.

That was irritating.

Kratos sighed irately. Týr had the decency not to ask; he only went back to staring at the water. They sat in silence for a time, in the gentle warmth of Alfheim.

“Freya has been looking for you,” Kratos said finally.

Now it was Týr’s turn to sigh. “For the council. I know. You can tell her I’m not avoiding her. I just have…things to consider.”

Kratos understood what Týr meant. The thought of the council had been gnawing at him since Freya mentioned it. She hadn’t brought it up to him again, but…

What do we call you?

…it was possibly only a matter of time before she did.

He did not know what his answer would be.

“…swear, they’re like rats,” Hildisvíni said as they emerged from the gat into a cold Midgard night. “Every time you think you’ve handled the problem, more show up.”

“You still have not located the nests?” Kratos asked.

“Unfortunately, no. We’ve been trying, but…”

Whatever he was about to say next was interrupted by the distant blast of a horn. An alarm. Kratos recognized the sound; he’d only heard it briefly, during a test run of the small town’s alarms, but he knew it. Those were Skjöldr’s people.

Something was wrong.

He took off at a run, not stopping to see if Hildisvíni was responding to the horn call as well. He summoned his spear as he ran. It was instinctive, even more so than drawing his other weapons. It was the first weapon a Spartan used, the one he’d been training them with.

He needed that familiarity now.

Kratos arrived at the town to the sounds of battle. He could make out Skjöldr’s voice above the din, directing his troops. That was the sound he made his way towards. He altered course enough to turn his approach into a flanking maneuver, surveying the battle as he did. His students were holding the line so far, but what the bandits lacked in discipline they made up for in numbers.

But numbers did not always make a battle, and sometimes the surest way to ensure a victory was to convince the other side a fight was not worth it.

Driving an exploding spear through a man’s heart and detonating it was one way to do that.

Almost immediately, the enemy line dissolved into chaos. Kratos heard their call—Sá merkti! Hann er kominn!—and some chose to flee at the sound. Others, too caught up in their desire for a noble end or beserker rage, still tried their luck.

They were dealt with.

This encouraged more of their comrades to flee. Soon, the sound of battle was replaced by the strange unquiet that often settled over a close call. Kratos’s mind turned to his students. When he turned, they were still in formation, still maintaining an admirable shield wall. Skjöldr’s face peered out. “Are they gone?” he asked shakily.

“Yes,” Kratos responded. “It is over.”

Almost immediately, someone started vomiting. Someone else began to weep. The formation slowly fell apart as some of its members turned and ran, calling out for their loved ones. Others lingered, staring at the carnage. Skjöldr was one of them momentarily, before he shook his head and stumbled towards Kratos. “Th-there’s people wounded,” he said. “I, uhm…” He looked around the battlefield. “I don’t know where my spear is.”

Kratos remembered then, very clearly, how Atreus had reacted to killing for the first time. Skjöldr was much older, and there were no tears in his eyes. But some of the same pain lingered in his eyes. Kratos remembered what he had said to his son back then. How he had wished may times since that he had said something different.

This was not quite a second chance, but he took the chance anyway.

“Skjöldr,” Kratos said firmly. His voice softened when he was sure he had the boy’s attention. “They would have killed you, and many more besides. You understand that, yes?” Skjöldr nodded. “It is a horrible choice, but sometimes a necessary one. You led with courage and conducted yourself with honor. That is all anyone could ask of you.”

Again, Skjöldr nodded. “Does it…get any easier?” he asked quietly.

“For some. But you should not let it become too easy. Keep your heart open as you can.” Kratos rested his hand on Skjöldr’s shoulder. “Well done.”

Some tears finally formed in Skjöldr’s eyes as he glanced down. He wiped them away quickly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Hmm.” Kratos nodded. “I will see to the wounded. You should…”

“No, I’ll help. I think I’ll feel worse if I don’t.” Skjöldr took a deep breath before turning back to town. “This way.”

Unfortunately, there were casualties. If the town had lacked a well-trained fighting force, there would have been many more. Kratos tried to comfort himself with the thought as he oversaw the aftermath of the battle. It did not help him much.

It helped more to see that the survivors, that his students, recovered and went to help. Even if their hands still shook, even if some wept, they helped. Skjöldr lead them, moving among his people with an encouraging smile.

Kratos hoped Skjöldr’s father knew what a fine young man his son was becoming.

He hoped that he would see his own son’s growth as well.

Kratos had not spent much time in Jötunheim. He felt as if he would be intruding, like an outsider who had somehow breached their walls and disturbed their peace.

But this place was Faye’s homeland. He still missed her deeply, some days more than others. He did not think anyone could blame him for seeking any connections left to him.

“Where do you think she would have lived?”

“Laufey?” Angrboda scanned the horizon. They were at the edge of the Ironwood, overlooking the rest of Jötunheim. “Did she ever talk about it?”

“She said she grew up near mountains. That her second family raised horses.”

“Hmmm…” Angrboda turned until she was facing the mountain peaks—the same ones they had spread Faye’s ashes from—and pointed in that direction. “That way. Beyond the temple. Some of our most famous horses were bred in the mountain valleys.”

Kratos stared out over the horizon and tried to imagine her there as a young woman. Perhaps her eyes were less tired in those days, her hair a more consistent red, without the small strands of white he noticed even before Atreus was born. She had been far angrier once—he had learned that during his travels in Vanaheim—but he was growing more comfortable with the thought. As much as it pained him to think that she had lived through the same rage he once had, it was an understandable anger. One she had learned to tame.

Many of her words to him made sense now. She had understood him more than he realized.

“The prophecy in Týr’s temple was broken in part,” he said. “Do you think…?”

Angrboda shrugged. “I never knew her. Everything I heard about her before made her more like one of the people from old legends, you know? But…I think she may have been the one to break it.” Angrboda rested her chin on her knees. “I get why she would. I’ve been on the other side of what Atreus would’ve lived through. I had this one moment that would make me important, then…nothing. Forever. And that was already bad, but he would’ve had one moment and then everything forever. That sounds awful.”

“It would have,” he agreed. Prophecies had destroyed his own childhood, and the three years he had spent with the threat of death hanging over him had been exhausting. Atreus knowing had nearly torn them apart. How much worse would it have been if they had known from the start? His life here had been far from perfect, but they had been some of the most peaceful in his long life.

And he had Faye to thank for that.

“You really loved her, huh?” Angrboda said.

Kratos closed his eyes. He imagined Faye walking through the fields towards her old childhood home. He pictured the way the sun would turn her hair gold, and the smile in her eyes as she turned to face him.

He knew, then, that no matter what came, no matter what changes lay ahead, he would still be able to remember her, alive and vibrant and calling him towards something better.

He took comfort in that.

“I still do,” he said.

That much would never change.

#god of war #fic: will you greet the daylight looming

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sunshinewwx · 1 year

Text

꧁Breath in and out..꧂

( After you and you’r family went to the metkayina clan to stay there bc of the war you get a little close to a certain ‘boy’. You and your siblings had to learn their «way» so you are trying to do the best of the impossible and get your breathing under control only for a certain boy to take notice and help you)

(WARNING) * fluff * joke/ mean words *mention of touching *slight enemies to lovers? * soft Aonung

Notes: This is my first fic hope you guys like it✨

(Ao’nung x reader)

Enjoy!✨😊🤭

-No you gotta breath from here.

You watched as Aonung placed his hands on your stomach. His hands were cold and it made your stomach crumble down. You took a deep inhale and closed your eyes trying to concentrate but you just couldn’t. His hands were all over your stomach, his thumb scraping over your bellybutton many times. This made your heartbeat and breathing go faster then normal.

(Aonung) - God… Your breathing is much worse now! Why can’t you atleast try to get it. He grumbled the last words as he puffed his chest out a little. Aonung looked like he would leave any minute now, his light blue eyes looked around for any person walking by to switch whit, He had tried to teach you but you just couldn’t do it right. What was wrong? He wondered if you ever took lessons to be this stupid or if it was natrual.

(Reader) - Im sorry im really trying my best but i just can’t concentrate whit your hands all over me! You hissed at him and he slowly took his hands off you watching you get back into position for another try.

(Aonung) - Wow (reader) Everyone’s entitiled to act stupid once in a while, but you really abuse the privilege. As he said that a smirk creeped up on his lips as he laughed right in your face.

Now you tried your best to stay calm and not get into a stupid agrument. everything you did was wrong, as you were the oldest sully daughter you were the expectation in the family. Your duty was to take care off the most, such as feeding the sius in the morning, picking up beautiful sheels to use for making necklaces, diving under water for a certain plant, pick up coconuts and at the same time, watch over you’r siblings who would always pick up a fight whit each other. Your father said it was a way to show our greatfullness for getting to stay here, but you never understood why only you got these tasks. Of course your siblings help you a little now and then but it wasn’t often as they liked to play and run around in the water. You understood them tho, it’s much more fun to play in the water as you wish you could switch places for a bit. As for the omatikaya siblings they had the job to teach you guys and go out fishing and that was enough already, you knew it was hard for them as you teached your siblings in the past. They could be pretty dumb sometimes-…

(You took a deep inhale again as you took your hands in your palms and held your breath.)

(Aonung) -That is also wrong. You gotta breath from here..

( Reader)- I know exactly where i have to breath from! You yelped out only for him to smile and laugh at your so called «mad face»

( Aonung) - Then do it

(Reader) - I will… you grumbled as you tried to concentrate again.

Aonung soon found out what you did wrong, you didn’t have a clear mind. For it to work you had to concentrate whitout a crazy mind. That’s prob why Loak, Kiri, Tuk and Neteyam already mastered it, they are calm and concentrated and thought about something that made them calm their nerves down.

He asked if he could help you but you didnt even get to answer as he took your hand in his and dragged you over to a place where noone was. He thought about it twice as you two walked thru a small cozy forest, should i really bring her there? Is she gonne master it? Of course he didnt wanna «help you» but the sooner you got the breathing under control the sooner he would have one minus person to help when in the water.

(Reader) - Hey! Where are you taking me? You asked as you looked over his shoulders.

(Aonung) - A place where you can calm down and get your breathing under control. He simply replied whitout a joke this time.

As you guys were walking you notice he still had a good grip on your hand and kinda whouldn’t let go? Also that his hand were warm and not cold. As you two reached your destination Aonung quietly sat down on the grass followed by your figure. It showed a pretty view over the village whit palm trees and soft grass touching your silky skin as you sat down. He never really took anyone up here, this was a place he usally went by himself if he ever were stressed about something or needed to clear his mind.

(Aonung) - Ok to get your breathing under control you gotta be calm and think about something to make your stress go away, for me it helps to look at the view, here give it a try.

He let go of your hand blushing sigthly as he sat himself cross from you, he took a hold of his hands in his palms and took a deep inhale giving you a eye contact to do the same. As you both sat there eyes closed just enjoying each other prescence for minutes. You for almost the first time felt calm and not worried about your siblings, feeling the wind brushing sigthy over your ears and a shadow that suddenly blocked the sun and view from your eyes made you get back to reality. As you opened your eyes you saw Aonung figure standing over you.

(Aonung) - Looks like you mastered your breathing, we have already been sitting here for some minutes. He looked down at you, a little red in his cheeks as you swore you saw him smile just a bit. - Good job (reader) he examinated as he took out his hand to help you stand up.

As his hand touched your you blushed, you didnt know why, was it beacause you mastered the breathing or beacause Aonung was sweet and actully used his personal time to help you?

As you got up he offered to walk you back to your mud because it was getting late.

(Aonung) - Im only walking you back home because it’s late you snake he said as he looked forward not wanting to meet your gaze that was looking at him.

(Reader) Thank you for helping me today Aonung, i really appreciate it, you said as you saw a form of pink forming onto his cheeks.

(Aonung) - It’s nothing… It’s the least i could do for you stupid freak.

As you two reached your pud and shared a farwell you went to bed, but for the chief son he couldn’t stop thinking about you❤️

#anoung #avatar #the way of water #fluff #Anoung X reader #tumblr #viral #trending #Ship #so cute #sunset

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sazuka57 · 11 months

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/post/718441984343293952/no-actually-im-mad-enough-about-it-to-speak-up when we do it people get mad and say that we're misunderstanding the characters and that we're so wrong and that it's fucking shit. i don't know what to do, i feel pressured to not fuck up

Anon imma give you my biggest secrets to fanfic writing, the ones that have carried me thru 15+ years of fic writing, of unwanted critics, of haters, and of little to no attention to my fics.

1) this is the most important one: write what makes YOU happy. Writing fanfic is a hobby and it should spark joy. It should make you happy. If this means you’re taking the big bad of the series and turning him into a baby that the heroes have to raise? Go for it. If it means a villain is your meow meow and you’re gonna rewrite the story to make him a good guy? Go for it. Whatever makes YOU happy. Because in the end, you are writing for yourself and for you to have fun. Yes validation is nice, but—

2) —but it’s not the end all, be all. It’s always so so sooooo good when people comment on your fics and leave you reviews and go nuts for your work. But I write for dead or niche fandoms and I rarely get attention on any of my work. And I made peace with that. You need to make peace with that. Validation is nice, but kudo/comments/hits are not the goal here: you having fun is.

3) ignore the haters. There are SO many gatekeepers in fandoms nowadays that it sucks the fun and joy out of life. Block them, don’t even reply, just block them. AO3 has mute and block buttons. Use them. And if they are extra rude? Report them. In the old days, we used to say “flames will be used to warm cold feet” which translates to “your hate is less than dirt” (flames here being haters and unwanted criticisms). It still applies.

4) this one is optional but: find like minded people! People who’d enjoy your work! People who you love discussing ideas with! It goes a long way to give motivation!

5) this one is hella important: it’s not ooc if it’s an au!! :) A person growing up in a war zone is gonna have very different experiences than a person growing up with parents who run a coffee shop and will have a different experience to growing up in an orphanage etc etc. and all of these things WILL affect a person’s behavior and will change how they interact with the world. Even if all those three scenarios had the same trauma (i.e. a fire), each one would react differently and would lose different things, which again, affects how they’d act.

6) BE ooc!! DO IT. Why? Because NO ONE is gonna write the character as “ic”’as the original writers/creators. The character in your head is different than the character in another person’s head, and in another’s, and so on. This is because our own lives and experiences affect the way we interact with the world—and fictional works. And working super hard to please the public means that someone out there will always go “that’s ooc how dare you.” You can never please everyone, remember that!

6.5) but also: write crackfic. It will help you break out of the fear of oocness so much. Even if you don’t write them, have crackfic ideas. They’re so good for your soul—humor is so good and cringe is dead.

7) and this is hella important: Anon you are human. Humans make mistakes. We fuck up. It’s how we learn and grow. And NO ONE was born perfect. Writing takes practice. Writing in character takes practice for every new character you write! It’s not easy! But you gotta trust yourself and your writing skills, and that requires practice too! Practice practice practice!!

So, TL;DR: Do what you want. Do what makes you happy. You are not being paid for this, and if people don’t like your writing, they can pay you to write exactly what they want. And fuck up as much as it takes for you to feel satisfied with the pieces your working with. And most important—aus and oocness go hand in hand.

#anon #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #writing advice #zazu talks

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fe-fictions · 1 year

Note

Where? ~oh~ where? Have those Henry fics gone?~ I needs my crowman

(I've got some Henry taking care of Robin and Morgan when they get sick! Huge thanks to @zankavogue , who compiled a huge archive of fics from the deactivated blog! I'll be reuploading as many as possible!!! U V U)

The family had taken a brief, albeit very fun and relaxing, trip in Plegia. Morgan being only eight months old certainly made things interesting. Having the whole family there to enjoy the beauty of Plegia outside war time was fun.

Plus, you were both Plegians, so it was nice to learn about your roots.

It was a magical time. Or at least, it would have been. You woke up the morning after you came home and found yourself unable to get out of bed.

You had a fever, your head was pounding, and you were a snotty mess of misery. Henry was amused until he heard baby Morgan bawling down the hall. You both caught, according to your husband, the Plegian swine flu.

No one was immune from it, not even sweet, innocent little blood bags like Morgan (Henry’s words, not yours).

So Henry quickly went from teasing you and being fascinated by how miserable you were to going into full-blown panic.

Like any disease, a baby catching it had a higher risk of complications. Most recover, Henry explained while frantically scribbling an urgent letter for Maribelle to tie to one of his crows, but itty bitty babies could suffer serious health problems.

Henry got to work on preparing you a bucket of cold water, a second bucket for the kerchiefs you would be blowing your nose into all day, and a third bucket in case you couldn’t keep your food down.

You didn’t.

“Gods, Henry- did you have to send that filthy animal to me? I’m literally down the block! It would take you fifteen minutes to-”

“Fifteen minutes is a waste of time! Morgan and Robin could be dead by then! And if it’s either of them, it’s no joke, nya ha!”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“It’s nervous laughter!” He chuckled again, though judging by how pale his face was, it seemed to be true.

Maribelle simply scoffed and hurried to the bedroom, ready to treat her friend.

“Robin, darling! Oh, you look positively ghastly!” She gasped, drawing the mask over her mouth and nose. She pulled on her medical gloves, a stave at her side and a big pouch of herbs on her belt. “The Plegian swine flu is no joke...it’s very rarely found in Ylisse, but when it travels with you…”

“I-it’s a disaster.” You wheezed, not before you were overcome by coughing. “Anything y-you can do will be a welcome remedy.”

“Luckily for you, there’s nothing here that herbs and plenty of rest won’t fix. Now Morgan might be a little trickier, given his age...but we can at least get started with you.”

Maribelle was quick to send Henry off to grind up the herbs, preparing some disgusting concoction guaranteed to get your body back to normal.

Presuming Henry could put it together.

“Now, when did you start to feel ill?”

“W-well, if I’m honest… It started around-”

Crash

“Ah, gods- I broke the cup!!”

“-The time we got home, last night. It was late-”

Smash

“The pestle’s shattered!!”

“-And I just thought I was tired, but...my head feels about the same as-”

Bang

“The herbs are everywhere!!”

“HENRY!!” Maribelle shouted out the door, “What in the gods’ names are you doing?!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a mess!” Henry apologized, his voice shaky and unsure. “I-I just meant to help a bit, but it looks like I’m making things worse, nya ha!”

“Why don’t you come and sit,” Maribelle pinched her brow, “Just settle down until you stop breaking things.”

You watched as Henry wandered back into the bedroom, looking surprisingly pale and nervous. You had never quite seen him in such a way, before.

After all, it was always good times and weird vibes with your husband. Since when did he become the anxious type?

“I’ll be right back, Robin. I’ll get your medicine.”

“Give some to Morgan, first.” You asked, “I can wait.”

Maribelle nodded to you before taking off, leaving you alone with your husband who was bouncing his leg and fidgeting with his hands with a nervousness that you’d never seen before.

For a few moments, it was quiet, listening to the rhythmic, rapid tapping of his heel against the stone. Eventually, though, you would have to snap him out of it.

“Henry, a-are you all right?” You questioned as gently as you could. Henry started to nod, giving you a cracked, faux grin. Then he paused, his smile fell, and he shook his head.

“Well, if I’m honest? No. Not at all. I feel like I’m dying inside.” He admitted. “I mean, you’re sick, and so is Morgan! My two favorite living people! And there’s not a thing I can do about it- I mean, he’s just a baby, and we’ve only been back together for a year- I dunno. It scares me, y’know? Which is impressive! When’s the last time I’ve been genuinely scared, right! Nya ha ha!”

“There’s nothing to be scared of, Henry.” You tried to assure him. But he shook his head, folding his arms tightly.

“You don’t know that! All it takes is one thing to go wrong and it could be bye-bye wifey, or even bye-bye baby, and I...oh, I couldn’t handle that. Nope, not one bit.”

It was certainly a reasonable concern.

“Henry, sweetheart...come here.” You held your hand out to him, insisting he sit with you. You weren’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the pain that numbed your sense of worry, but you were far calmer than he was.

He took your hand, revealing trembling fingers. You squeezed it tightly, trying your best to comfort him despite your situation.

“Maribelle will take care of us. We’ll be okay, I’m sure.”

“But you can’t be sure!” He sighed shakily, “Anything can happen when it comes to Plegian flu. It can either be nothing at all, or really bad! And you never know until it happens. If something bad did happen to you or Morgan, I just...I don’t know what to do! You already told me I’m not allowed to re-animate either of you if you croak, so...I’m out of options!”

“I’m standing firm on that, just so you know.” You informed him with a soft smile, “But, Henry...there’s no value in worrying for worrying’s sake. W-we really shouldn’t be concerned with the unknown until it comes.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one having to take care of both of you! What if I mess up?! What if I make it worse!! I already broke Maribelle’s mortar and pestle, there are herbs everywhere, a-and I just-”

“Henry,” You pressed a finger to his lips, “You’re overthinking.”

“B-but I just...I worry about you guys…”

“I know.” You beamed at him, stroking his cheek. “But please, try not to worry. We need to wait for Maribelle’s diagnosis, and we can go from there, okay? It’ll be easier if we take it a step at a time.”

“Gosh, Robin...how’re you able to stay so calm all the time?” He looked at you incredulously, “I’m about ready to pop out of my skin and just run around like a headless Risen!”

“Experience.” You laughed.

Maribelle came in not long after, informing you both that the flu didn’t appear to be as bad as it could be.

“Morgan should recover within the week, though we’ll need to make sure he receives two doses of medicine each day; one in the morning and one at night. Henry, you’ll have to make it for him each day- is that something you can handle? Or will I be making more visits this week?”

Henry shared a look with you, seeing your encouraging smile. He took a deep breath and nodded.

“I can handle it, I promise!”

“Good. Morgan’s going to be counting on you. Robin, you should need more rest than anything else, but I’m recommending you take one dose each evening; it will help you sleep better, and it’s strong enough that it should hold you the next day.”

“That’s fine by me.” You agreed; the less disgusting, bitter herbs you had to ingest, the better.

“Your recovery time will be a bit longer than Morgan’s, though, judging by how you’re doing… I’d say two weeks at minimum; a month-and-a-half at most. Now if you want, I can have Lissa or Libra come and help take care of you, so that Henry can focus on caring for Morgan. Or, we can simply send Morgan off with a wet nurse while you’re here.”

“N-no, I-!” Henry interrupted before you could reply, putting a hand to his chest. “I can handle it, Maribelle! After all, if I can’t take care of my family, what kind of man would I be? Just a sad bag of bones and sinew! Not good for anything but crow food.”

Maribelle glanced over at you, looking for some sort of response. You knew she was still wary of Henry, especially now that she was out a very lovely mortar and pestle. But you were confident in his abilities.

“He can take care of us.” You told her, “I trust him.”

“Well...if you insist.” She conceded, earning a whoop from your husband- and an apology for it shortly after when he realized you weren’t to be around loud noises with your headache. “I’ll be coming to check up on you twice a week until you’re all better- until then, Henry, we’re counting on you!”

“You got nothin’ to worry about, Maribelle! We just take it a day at a time, and it’ll be great, nya ha!”

“Robin, if anything changes, or you need help...please don’t hesitate to call me or the other healers immediately.”

“I will.”

“I do mean anything, dear.”

“...I will.”

“If Henry does one thing wrong-”

“Hey!”

“I got it, Maribelle.” You chuckled, waving her away. “Thanks for your concern. We’ll be sure to call for you if we need anything. But I’m positive Henry will take care of us just fine.”

“You can bet your organs on it!” He grinned, giggling happily with his wife’s support. Maribelle gave him a long, hard look, but eventually took her leave.

Henry was quick to move Morgan’s crib into the bedroom, guaranteeing that he could keep track of both of you and ensure you were both recovering nicely at the same time.

While it was heartbreaking listening to Morgan’s discomfort and those tiny baby coughs, it helped to see him improve day after day.

You did end up recovering about a week after Morgan, all thanks to Henry. He made sure to give you only the best. Most of all you were just thankful that none of you could get the Plegian swine flu ever again.

Especially since he bought Maribelle a replacement mortar and pestle that came from a questionable source, covered in animal bones and bird skulls and...you really didn’t know what corner of Hell he summoned them from.

At least there wouldn’t be another opportunity for him to break anything else of Maribelle’s, seeing as you wouldn’t be getting sick again.

You would take extra steps to ensure that just so he wouldn’t frighten Maribelle with another horrifying “gift”.

#henry #robin #morgan #fe 13 #fire emblem awakening #henry x robin #henbin lol #robenry #henbin #IDK WHAT THE COUPLE NAME IS #fe-fictions #fe fictions #f!robin #fem!robin #family fluff #hurt and comfort #sick prompt #sweet baby morgan #papa henry to the rescue!!!!

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autisticandroids · 1 year

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For director's commentary challenge: Cold storage :3c

[the goal here is to provide a director's commentary, a la the one i did for i fold in half so easily, though obviously less comprehensive. this commentary is for cold storage.]

okay so i don't actually have a TON. to say about cold storage. a lot of it is right there on the page. but i do have thoughts. like, primarily this fic was motivated by the desire to just have more crowstiel out there that isn't crowley negative? like i am constantly saying this, but crowley is like never the bad guy except in season eight and that was bullshit, and he gets done so dirty by the show and fans who buy into the fact that he's a demon without realizing he's just a guy.

When Crowley entered the lab, Castiel was lean-sitting on the edge of a table, playing with some little fiddly thing between his hands.

“How’s this week’s Waterloo?” He greeted.

“Disastrous,” Cas said, not even bothering to look up.

season six wartime fics are so importance to me..... i care about the angel civil war a lot. have you guys heard about walking on a string? anyway i wanted to at least mention it you know? and reference like. a classic battle. to make it seem more serious <3.

Crowley sighed. It was always a joy to ruffle the angel’s feathers, but it looked like no dice today. Castiel was too calm. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to give it another go.

one thing about crowley that's really important to me is that like. imo all or at least most demons have a sadistic streak that comes from like. how they're made. and a lot of them just like enjoy causing pain because it's what they learned on the rack. but crowley channels it into the fine, sharply honed art of being a dick and generally tormenting people verbally. he loves doing this to cas because cas is 1) a hothead and 2) misses a lot of the jabs.

“I heard they- hey, is that my chess set?” Crowley found himself distracted. He’d finally recognized the red queen Cas was playing with.

“Yes.” Cas still didn’t seem particularly interested in Crowley. He was too busy screwing around with Crowley’s chess set.

“That’s hellhound ivory! Do you know how long I had to wait for Olivia to shed enough teeth for a full set?” Crowley had set up a whole system to collect Olivia’s old teeth, with a special muzzle and everything. She'd hated wearing that thing. Enchanting a chess set the way he’d done this one required the whole set to be spelled together, and if the klutz of an angel dropped that queen he might have to start from scratch. Then he remembered something else. “You need demonic essence to open that box. Did you kill one of my guards just to snoop through my things?”

i had a HUGE amount of fun here making crowley into a big softie. obviously he could just kill the dogs for their teeth like a normal demon but crowley would NEVER. he's a fucking dogmom. he even feels guilty about keeping olivia in the muzzle. sidenote on olivia: i couldn't remember whether having a hellhound named juliet was a canon thing or a fanfiction thing so i avoided the name juliet even though i wanted this hellhound to be juliet. i picked another shakespearean name to compromise. then later i found evidence that juliet does exist in canon and is named juliet anyway, oh well. i'm attached to olivia now.

“No, I have access to plenty of demonic essence.” Cas didn’t seem interested in elaborating. Crowley was loath to admit it, but the angel’s disinterest was rather getting to him. At least look up when you speak, that’s basic politeness. Crowley scowled.

“Care to share with the class?”

“Share with the- ah.” Confusion and realization flashed over Cas’ face as he finally deigned to look at Crowley. It only took him a moment to return to his usual stoicism, though. “You have ejaculated into my vessel thirty eight times in the past three months.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows lift .

“You've-” He was about to say you've kept count ? but stopped himself. He knew angels perceived things rather differently. It probably wasn't strange at all for Castiel. It wasn't some meaningful act. Crowley was saved from having to finish his sentence by Cas’ interruption.

“I have access to enough stored demonic essence to open dozens of similar wards.”

i think he spits it up. like a bird feeding its babies.

There was a beat. Crowley closed his eye, then opened them again.

“... Stored ?”

Castiel was back to looking at the chess piece.

“I'm an angel. My vessel is kept static. I have no use for its digestive organs, so I use them for storage. I keep your semen in my vessel’s stomach.”

Crowley felt his lips part. The damn angel knew how to be a tease. Crowley never knew whether Castiel was doing it on purpose, but regardless, he felt his dick sit up and take notice.

Crowley had always heard that angels were hedonists. God made them without something, something they needed. So when they got out of Heaven, they were all hunger. When he struck up his little arrangement with Cas, Crowley couldn’t help but test the rumors.

It had turned out angels weren’t just hungry, they were insatiable. Exhaustingly, sometimes scarily so. But Crowley wasn’t complaining.

Perhaps he should be more concerned about Castiel’s new habit, there were all sorts of spells that could be done if one had access to a man’s bodily fluids. But the thought that Cas liked being his so much that he… Crowley stepped over to Castiel and poked him in the stomach, just above the bellybutton.

“So you just fly around up there, full of my come. You like it when I fill you up, hmm?”

the thing about crowley is he's only human. he's not above having some extremely normie possessive dude kinks. also maybe he has a crush but we don't talk about that.

Castiel looked up and stared at him, looking confused.

“The stomach is here.” Castiel tapped a spot higher and to his own left. “That's the small intestine. I use that to store the semen of the six human males I have allowed to ejaculate into my vessel since the averted apocalypse.”

Crowley drew in a sharp breath to speak but could not think of anything to say to that. There's no reason it should bother him, Castiel was a business partner he fucked sometimes. But he had rather liked the idea of his very own angel, happy to be all his.

“So you just… store the come of anyone you fuck? Just keep it?”

Castiel looked down at his stomach contemplatively, then back up at Crowley.

“Yeah.”

“What happens when you're full up?”

Castiel’s brow wrinkled. He stared up over Crowley's head.

“I hadn't thought that far. Perhaps I could begin storing the excess in my grace.” Castiel’s voice was contemplative.

“I suppose my question is… why? Why bother storing it? What's the point?”

“I…” Castiel stopped. His eyes squinted, then widened. His lips parted. He took a shallow breath. The angel looked completely and utterly lost.

Crowley felt himself breaking out into a grin.

“Oh, you're a kinky little angel. Never occurred to you to ask, did it? You just wanted it.” Castiel was staring at him now, looking progressively more nervous. “It makes you feel good, doesn't it? Up in Heaven, surrounded by angels and they don't even know. They don't even know you're a little whore.” Crowley laid his hand on Cas’ belly, fingers splayed.

castiel tummy fetish >:3. anyway it's important that crowley be kind of a misogynist because so far he's like squeaky clean and i don't want him to come out of this fic looking like a saint.

Castiel looked down at him with abject terror.

“I…” He seemed frozen. Crowley's words hung in the air.

the thing about cas is he just doesn't know why he does things, or why he wants things. babygirl behavior. further reading.

Crowley stared back at Cas. He stroked a thumb over one of the buttons of Cas’ shirt. They were nearly flush together, the only thing between them Crowley's hand on Cas’ stomach.

Crowley began to stand up on his toes to kiss Castiel but.

A flutter of wings. Crowley fell forward onto the metal table Cas had been leaning against.

“Damn all angels,” Crowley swore. Repressed bastards, the lot of them. Fucked like sluts but couldn't talk about a moment of it.

i needed crowley to degrade cas in his mind here to like. the thing about crowley is he's lost this one bc he's kind of been robbed of what he wants re: cas' body, and also he's got a crush and he MUST hide it. like crowley has egg on his face here and he has to denigrate cas to feel better about it, because to crowley every interaction is an insane dominance game because he's spent 300 years playing demon politics, and also he has masculinity issues.

He gave Cas ten minutes to collect himself before dialing his number.

“You know, darling, it's not polite to leave a man with blue balls. Now come back here and sit on my cock.”

again he's kind of doing a whole gender thing because he has dude neuroses, and also possibly pressuring cas into sex here, though cas is prickly enough that his naivete won't induce himm to accept, only genuine desire, just my onion.

#spn #asks #explainslowly

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inlocusmads · 1 year

Text

Countdown to 2023 WRITERS' EDITION

This is a non-exhaustive list, as always! Thanks to @choicesfandomappreciation for the event!

Honestly without this loving community, I doubt anything would've been possible at all. I've met so many people here, got to know of so many different perspectives and it actually made me understand there's depths to our madness XD! But in all seriousness, it's just wonderful how many of us there are. I'm so glad we made it to 2023!

(Edit: I accidentally hit "Post" once, before finishing this up, so if you've accidentally received some sort of error on your page, it is probably me and Tumblr fighting a war.)

Onto the list!!

Writers whose works I've read this year:

@aallotarenunelma

Aallotar, thank you for being here. Serious. I'd never get tired of our Formula-1 conversations, getting excited over Aspec representation and gushing on and on about the things we enjoy! Thank you for being there, my friend and belated happy birthday wishes! Had it not been for you, I'd have probably never gotten the courage to talk about *anything*, really. Thank you so much for your positive support, your enthusiasm and so much more!

You're a fantastic writer and your ability to draw inspiration from small little details that send those butterflies, goosebumps, the "vibes" as they say, absolutely marvels me.

@peonierose

Peonie, we've been buddies for so long I am surprised to see it has only been around 6-8 months! We've talked on and on about everything and it feels like we're practically siblings/family at this point XD. I miss the days (prior to uni) where I'd open up my dash and see your wonderful little messages and it would literally make my day. Thank you for being such a social butterfly, such a ray of sunshine in this fandom and supporting it through its hard times.

Your writing never fails to make me happy. It's warm, fuzzy, gives you so much comfort. It's about characters being happy, fighting for change, overcoming problems, being utterly domestic and ugh, the food! I can never get tired of your Pictagram edits! Thank you for being here and being such a caring friend.

@ofmischiefandmedicine

Lin, my wonderful pal! It's been ages since we talked and I can only imagine how stressful uni life is for you. Nevertheless, I sincerely hope you're taking breaks. I remember when I first came across Laura and I was just amazed. Just downright amazed because of how much thought and effort you went to, to create her a stunning background information, talking about her Ukrainian heritage and culture.

I've always admired your ability to research and bring to light about different traditions. I've learned a lot about Ukrainian culture, about literature and the arts, about medicine and so much more. Thank you for being a fantastic writer! Your writings are so illustrative, so depictive of the characters!

Writers whose works I must catch up on, by 2023:

@jerzwriter

Elsa, you're absolutely remarkable! I love your writing - how raw and emotional and painful it can be, but at the same time, it is a reflection of reality. Nobody is perfect, not even our best characters. Your fics are always refreshing, like a nice cold drink after a hard day. I really hope to catch up with your works soon, because I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Kaycee and Casey are wonderful people! I can't imagine writing 2k words/fic let alone creating TWO SEPERATE UNIVERSES with lots and lots of minute details to remember! I'm just so much in awe! You've done a fantastic job and you continue to do so and it is just a series of 😱😲🤯 for me!

@liaromancewriter

Lia, your writing reminds me of a lot of those old contemporary novels - so full of life and it tackles characterisation but through simple and neat ways. Often times Cassie's personality traits are explored through little wholesome domestic ways and that's what I love so much, because it's subtle. It's so neat!

I've also admired your ability to write two pairings; Maxenna and Cassie/Ethan (Casthan? Valensey? Ram-tine?) As someone who's managing two right now, it's basically an uphill climb and it is just so encouraging to see it is possible, it is totally worth all of it and you'd never get tired of either of them.

@mydemonsdrivealimo

MJ, I'm a huge, huge fan of your art. Jensen doubly so! I love your little headcanons that you post every so often and it is incredibly motivating for every one of us. Serious! It actually inspired me to write down my headcanons and it then, subsequently sparked a lot of fic ideas! It made me think about my characters in general and their motivations, thoughts and hobbies. I hope you know that you've probably set Choices' flash-fiction era in motion lmao!

Jensen is *the* coolest person I've ever read about (Bryce can dream all he wants, HA!) and they're so adorable. I hope to explore your writing style this new year! Thank you for being awesome and being an even awesome artist because GODDAMN, your art style is a force to be reckoned with.

Writers whose works I shall read/get acquainted with:

@trappedinfanfiction

I remember first coming across Fast Break and going, "Damn, that is the coolest concept ever. A basketball AU?" and decided to add it to my never-ending list. But I really really hope to read more of Trappedinfanfiction's works! I've loved getting to know Celia and I can only imagine how awesome she'd be, out there in the world!

@storyofmychoices / @lovealexhunt

Dani's works have always managed to pull me in, because they are just so comforting, so domestic and just so utterly FLUFFY!! Alex, Ellie, Laura, Daenarya, Astraea - I'm just so mind-blown, because of how simple and complex the lore is, the little backstories to each fic, how intricate the characters are and not to mention, the ART!! THE ART!! (Especially the famed Love and Scotch series. Plus, this is probably the first time I've seen a writer write for MoTY! Such an underrated, beautiful book!)

@peonyblossom

Peony's works have just been absolute MAGIC. Not to mention the wonderful 🏳️‍🌈 rainbow rep! Between Pictagram edits, Sadie's Self-Care Saturday and Peony's @choicespride project, I only hope to read more. I love Sydney, Sadie Valentine and Jackie Hunt and I remember coming across a magazine edit, I think, of Jackie and her experiences exploring their gender identity and I was so in awe of how beautiful it is; how we treat our characters as people too.

Thank you for inspiring me (and countless others, who've also inspired!) to explore Aspec- characters in my fics without constraining myself to some uptight standards and unspoken "rules". It's been so wonderful and freeing!

Even more mentions but I got really lazy for some reason (and also it is 12:16 right now and I'm very delirious okay bye)

Because I might have to expand this into a Part 2, I'm just going to tag some wonderful people here and then bring them up in the Part-2, which is definitely in the drafts.. I hope.( I mean, unless Uni thwarts my plans, that is, but you know what, we'll deal with it. It's THE NEW FREAKING YEAR AND IT DOESN'T FEEL LIKE A FEVER DREAM!)

@takemyopenheart : When I first came across your edits, I was literally on the balls of my feet, going "Aaah it is Luci and Ella!" at your fcs XD, but I'm just so happy! I hope to get to know Luz (and that's the baddest name ever for a doctor) and Ethan!

@gryffindordaughterofathena : Dri, it's been so SO LONG. How are you doing? How's everything? It's been literal decades lmao but I just *love* Diana so much. She reminds me of that cool, nice aunt at reunions who'd give you those fun fancy chocolates. I hope to catch up with your works and hope to catch up with you as well! And hooray for South-Asian rep! As a South Asian myself, it brings me so much joy to have our traditions and clothing attire represented in little, evocative poetic ways.

@openheartforeverinmyheart : Lizzie, you are absolutely incredible. I love the whole noir aesthetic to your works, your edits and I really really want to catch up with Adelina and Ethan's stories. Honestly Adelina gives off major "next-door neighbour who's ten times smarter than you are and also really nice but at the same time, can kill people with her stare" and I'm living for all of it! Thank you for introducing us to your wonderful world and I hope 2023 brings new adventures for both you and your MC!

@genevievemd: Sarah! I love your wholesome approach to your fics and edits and your EDITS ARE AMAZING! I love your approach as you chronicle Ethan and Gen's important moments through texts and pictures and calls and it is such a genius move. Not to mention super adorable! I love that and I hope in 2023, I get to read your works and explore your version of canon!

@lilyoffandoms : Lily, argh, it is so so hard to find Blades writers these days and I'm so glad you're one of them! You're always explorative with your writing; always up for something new, like say, switching genres, themes and so on and I've always wanted to be a versatile writer. Plus, I've always wanted to appreciate how beautiful and simplistic your drabbles are. They're short, sweet and just utterly beautiful and remind me of a little book of short stories. I hope to explore your writing style even further in these coming months! Thanks for creating!

@headoverheelsforramsey : Sruti, it's been so long since I caught up with your works. It brings me so much joy to see a lot more South Asian rep in the Choices fandom. As a South Asian myself, it feels so good, so validating to have MCs and LIs celebrate Diwali together, enjoy Asian cuisine and appreciate their cultural backgrounds. It's wonderful and I hope you know that you're doing a fantastic job! Between that and your cheeky writing style, it is so heartwarming to read your works.

There are so many more people to thank, so many more people to send love and support after, but it would be overkill to condense all of it in a single post. I really hope I'd get to write an even longer appreciative post because this fandom has been there; this community has been there for me when I was going through some of the worst things I've ever gone through. And I hope you know that you deserve to be celebrated, appreciated and above all, loved and cherished.

So thank you for everything.

Cheers,

Mads.

#choices fandom appreciation #choices countdown to 2023 #choices fandom

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revnah1406 · 2 years

Text

MASON'S LEGACY

Ch 1: Back to Reality

Author's Note: Hello! Before reading I would like to warn that English is not my first language and I am still learning to speak and write it. So maybe you will find some mistakes in this fanfic. If you find it, feel free to correct me.

Summary: Call of Duty black ops 4 never existed. After the Cordis Die incident, and the drone attack. It left the two super powers of the world (the United States and China) in decline. Little did they know that bad news doesn't come alone. In the midst of all the chaos that occurred after the death of Menéndez (Cordis Die), a Soviet terrorist group called Perseus appeared or rather rose from the ashes, although they baptized it as The New Perseus. Hell came to the world, more than half of the human population died in those five years, and the few that remained lost control. Governments disappeared or were overthrown, there were very violent revolts. Presidents and politicians were assassinated. The remaining governments vanished. The world became anarchic, demonstrating how cruel humanity can be when there is no longer order or laws. . The main cities of the countries and the first world fell. Everything remained in a post-apocalyptic world. Now David Mason and his daughter Abby Mason have to face a long journey to return to Alaska and start a new life. On this journey, past and present will merge into one.

WARNING: This fic contains SPOILERS from Call of duty Black Ops 1/2 and Cold War. It will also be inspired by other games such as The Division, The Last of Us, Far cry (There will be no spoilers).

I Also Made a drawing of what Abby Mason would look like and a little bit of information about her: here

I hope you enjoy!

________________

Next Chapter ->

Chapter 1: Back to reality

Words: 6683

Woods sighed, looking out the window of his room. His knees ached more than usual. He felt older than ever, although he had to be reasonable. It made sense. At 95 years old, everything seemed unreal. He was reviewing his life in his head, from the time he ran away from his family in Philadelphia, until he entered the residence. His achievements, his regrets... Everything seemed so distant and yet so vivid to him. Who would have thought that a man like him would live to such a long age. For someone who has been playing dice with death all his life.

A knock on the door of his room brought him out of his thoughts.

"Do not enter…." He demanded sullenly.

But the door opened.

He shook his head in annoyance and dragged the wheelchair toward the door.

"I swear to god, I will shove this wheelchair right up your...!"

"Ass..." Someone finished the sentence for him."

Frank looked up and raised his eyes in surprise.

A girl was in front of him, smiling. The girl was about 13 years old, brown hair, and green eyes. She looked a lot like her father, and even more like her grandfather.

"You have to change your threats, old man." She advised while she laughed.

"May I know what you are doing here at this hour?" Woods raised an eyebrow at the girl.

Not that He didn’t like her presence. Quite the contrary. He forged a deep friendship with her, the moment her father let him carry her in his arms. Frank still remembered when that little girl was just a baby. So inocent in the arms of the old veteran. He always said that he hated babies, but his heart melted at the first glance. She was the most delicate little thing he had ever held in his hands and now she was on her way to becoming a whole woman.

The girl shrugged and ran her hand down the back of her neck.

"I was passing by... And I thought I'd go visit old Woods." She blurted out with feigned innocence.

"Abby…" Frank called her name. "You live more than two hours away. What have you done this time?"

"I didn't do anything! It was...!" She didn't finish the sentence.

She sighed in frustration and sat on the edge of the bed.

Woods approached with the wheelchair, until he was in front of her. He put his calloused old hand on top of Abby's knee, patting it a couple of times.

"Come on. Tell me what happened."

The girl looked away, towards the drawings that were hanging on the wall. Some were hers, from when she was little. Others from when her father was little. She then returned her gaze to the veteran.

"My aunt Mary thinks she can come home. And turn everything upside down. Thinking she's in charge of everything now.” Abby began to explain. “Dad just told her to come by to pick up mom's last belongings. And as soon as she sets foot in the house she starts giving me meaningless orders and complaining like a embittered sergeant. No offense, sir. You're cool."

Frank chuckled and listened. He knew that she didn't have a good relationship with the family of her mother's side. And it got worse when she passed away.

"Never in over seven years has she deigned to stop by. Not even when Mom was in the hospital!”

She was starting to get more upset as she counted.

"And now she thinks she can come home and give me lessons? She never cared about us. No one in that family has. And now she's bossy and criticizing Dad for being a 'Bad Dad.' of his absence in the army. And because of that I have become an extremely rebellious and unbearable girl"

Abby shook her head.

"Dad's just doing his job, saving the world or whatever he does. At least he cares about us."

Woods understood the girl's situation. A few months had passed since her mother had died of cancer. Shortly after her father had to leave for work, as she said: To save the world. Abby stayed at the neighbors' house, and she didn't have permission to visit old man Woods. For the entire security issue and Menéndez's intrusion into The Vault. So the little girl had a hard time. She didn't have her loved ones near her and all of her pain and frustration was building up inside her.

Until finally her father returned home. He had managed to arrest Raúl Menéndez and had left the army. To spend time with his daughter and finally take care of his wife's mourning.

"So…" Frank pointed at her. "You got mad at your aunt. Because she said all those things about you and your father. And your best idea was to run away from home and come here?"

She shrugged.

"The bus ride isn't that expensive and I was starting to miss you." She justified.

The man looked at the girl for a few seconds. And then he let out a laugh.

"My god, Abby Mason."

Woods affectionately ruffled abbys' hair. She smiled. Who would have thought that her dearest friend could turn out to be a tattooed, grumpy, curmudgeonly old war veteran.

"But for now, call your father. We don't want him to worry and give both of us a hard time." Woods ordered. "I'm going to find the nurse. She always hides the fucking cigarettes from me."

Abby obeyed. She told her father that she would spend the afternoon with old Frank, after scolding, she got permission to stay. And so she did. She spent the afternoon with him, and they walked through the gardens of The Vault. As always, Woods telling the war stories and stories of him. They played poker, and as always, Abby complained that the old man always cheated.

It was late, it was getting dark, Abby had to go home. But what they did not expect was to find a man waiting for them in the room. He was old too, wearing a uniform and wearing sunglasses. When he took them off, Abby could see that he was missing an eye.

"Now that’s an entrance…" Woods blurted out, slightly surprised.

The girl looked at both men, not understanding anything. Did they know each other?

"Started Thinking you weren’t gonna make it " Frank kept talking.

He nodded at Abby.

"Go home Kid."

"It’s Okay. She can stay." The unknown man raised a hand.

Abby didn't know what to do. She was a spectator in that room. That man turned his attention back to Woods.

"Mi hermana Josefina." He said as he tossed Frank a heart shaped necklace.

Woods nodded as he grabbed the necklace out of the air.

"Yeah… I’ve been waiting for this."

The old Woods looked at Abby again.

"Go away, this has nothing to do with you." The tone he used this time was more dry and distant.

As if he suddenly didn't know the girl anymore.

"She stays." The other man ordered.

Abby didn't like that. She had a bad feeling.

"Josefina survived the fire..." The one-eyed man kept talking "...For me. I didn't leave her."

There were a few seconds of silence.

"You took her from me."

It was a quiet conversation, considering what it was about.

"And what’d you learn from that?" Woods asked, still knowing the answer.

"What did I learn?" he blurted out with irony.

It all happened so fast, Abby didn't have time to react. The man pulled a gun from his uniform and pointed it at the girl. Frank tried to react in time, reaching out to stop him. But the trigger was faster.

The man shot the girl. On her chest. She fell to the ground, the impact knocked the air out of her. She was bleeding too much. She couldn't stop the bleeding. She was lying on it, her cheek flattened on the cold ground.

"You took everything from me." Menendez turned to the girl.

He crouched down in front of her. Abby was terrified, tears were welling up in her eyes, she couldn't breathe, blood was gushing out of her mouth. The man brushed aside a couple of strands that were getting in the way of the girl's delicate face. She was terrified.

"Abby!" Woods was desperate. "This has nothing to do with her!"

"Frank…" The little girl started crying, desperately seeking help, begging to Woods to save her. Even if it was impossible.

"And I…" Menéndez continued with his speech. "I will take it from you. You will suffer with me."

Abby realized that the last sentence was for her.

"No, no, no. Please... Woods!" she pleaded.

Menendez turned and pulled out a knife. And in a blink. He stabbed Woods in the throat.

"NO!"

Abby woke up. She sat up so fast that she even felt dizzy. She was covered in a cold sweat, she was soaked in sweat. Desperate tears rolled down her cheeks, her pulse was racing, her hands were extremely trembling and she had trouble breathing.

It had happened again. A nightmare, no, a memory that had haunted her for five years.

Suddenly the door opened. Showing the face of a worried father.

"Abby. Are you okay?"

David hurried over to his daughter's side.

He sat down next to her.

Abby looked at her father. She was still scared, this time the dream was more vivid than the last one.

“Fuck..” She muttered, rubbing her face with both hands

David smiled to calm her, to let her know that everything was fine. She started managing to lower her heart rate and regulate her breathing.

It had been a long time since that dream had visited her at night, she believed that she had finally gotten rid of it. But it wasn't true, it simply waited for her to lower her guard to attack with more intensity.

"Are you feeling better now?" David asked.

Abby nodded.

“yeah.”

"Same dream?"

She nodded again.

David sighed. It hurt him to see his daughter like this, he felt frustrated for not being able to do anything. He only comforts her until she manages to get out of that hell.

"I thought it wouldn't happen again.” She spoke with her gaze fixed somewhere in the room.

"I know honey. But it's hard to get rid of these things…"

David was hurt by the loss of Woods. He felt guilty about it. He should have killed Menéndez instead of stopping him. And for that mistake, he also almost lost his daughter. The only thing left to him, the only legacy his wife had left him. The last remaining proof of his love for his wife. And he almost lost her because of him. Only she was left. His father Alex, Woods, his mother, his wife. Everything he loved in this world, it had been taken from him. If he lost his daughter as well, he wouldn't be able to recover.

But he had to be strong, for her. They were alone in that cruel world. They had to keep going and survive.

"What time is it?" she asked, raising her eyes.

The older Mason looked at the watch on his wrist.

"06:30." He answered. "The sun isn't up yet. But we have to get going. We're not safe here."

Abby nodded.

"I'll let you get dressed and get your stuff. Then come to have breakfast, okay?" David continued.

She nodded again as her father placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Are you sure you're okay now?" he asked, taking one last look at her face.

"I'm better. Thanks dad."

She raised her corners, leaving a sad smile.

David looked at her for a few seconds, not very convinced, but then he gave up.

"Okay. I'll let you be." He said goodbye.

Mason got up and ruffled the girl's hair. He then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Abby was silent for a few seconds, without moving, looking around the room. It wasn't even hers. That room didn't belong to anyone, not anymore. Things had ceased to belong to people a long time ago. The place was dusty, messy, with some broken windows and broken furniture... That room had seen better days, but those days are gone. Abby didn't care what the place looked like. It was just a shelter for one night. They were just passing by.

She got out of her sleeping bag. And she put her bare feet on the ground. It was cold, her skin felt goosebumps.

"Dad!" She called out to him "Is it really cold outside?"

She raised her voice so he could hear her through the door. She knew that her father had been awake longer, he used to wake up early in the morning before the sun came up. To patrol the area and make sure there was no danger.

"I believe so!” Her father's voice echoed out of the room. “It even snowed!”

"What?" Abby muttered to herself.

Confused, she walked to the window, sealed with cardboard and duct tape. She peeked through a small hole that wasn't covered with cardboard and peered out. It was true. The streets were snowed. Sprinkled in a layer of soft snow, which covered everything.

The little girl inside her was excited. It had snowed! She hadn't seen snow in a long time. She couldn't wait for her boots to touch the snow. She was sure she could get back at him for that time her father put snow inside her jacket. But the more reasonable part of her told her that this was going to complicate the trip. Walking on snow was more exhausting. In addition to a higher energy expenditure due to the cold. This was not good.

Abby sighed knowing there wasn't much she could do. She turned away from the window and started to change her clothes.

She looked around for her backpack. She soon found it lying near where she had slept. She crouched down in front of it and began to search inside.

It was an old one-shoulder backpack, with only one main strap to hang it from her shoulder. It had rips and patches but was a decent size with plenty of pockets and straps to tie various things to the sides. It was useful, considering it was where she kept all of her belongings. They were no longer at home, that house no longer existed, it was destroyed years ago. The life of a nomad demanded light and essential luggage. She was grateful that her father taught her how to fold clothes and put things away like he did in the navy. Taking up as little space as possible.

Abby's eyes traveled to the backpack strap. A knot tightened in her throat when she saw that piece of cloth. Woods' old bandana wrapped around the strap with a knot. The one he had always used in his missions and operations. Woods always said that he couldn't go on a mission without his bandana.

Abby stroked the fabric, it was all she had left of the old veteran. The nightmare replayed in her head.

"How did you deal with your demons, old man?" She whispered into the air.

It was a question for a ghost that now only was resting.

She shook her head and went back to what she should do. She took out of the backpack, the clothes that she had to put on. She dressed quietly, black cargo pants, a basic brown T-shirt, and an old light brown sweatshirt. She made sure to tuck the bottom of the shirt into her pants. Preventing the cold from creeping in. She then sat down on the floor and put on some thick socks and shoes. Combat boots her father got her a couple of years ago. They were sturdy, with thick soles and nearly indestructible laces. It was a good and durable shoe, but that didn't mean calluses and sores would form on Abby's poor feet in the long run.

When she finished dressing she put all of her belongings in her backpack, making sure to fold them correctly so that it didn't take up too much space. When she was done, she took one last look, checking to make sure nothing was left behind. Climbing rope, carabiners, gas mask... Then she walked until she stood in front of a dusty mirror. She reached over to brush the dust off the glass so she could show the reflection of her face.

It was amazing how much she had changed in five years. Physically and psychologically.

So much had happened in that period of time...

Discarding the obvious physical change due to age. Abby's skin was more damaged. She had scars, bruises and marks...Scattered all over her body. Signs of a hard and dangerous life. But the one that stood out the most was a gunshot wound to her chest, near her right shoulder.

Her complexion had changed as well. Her shoulders were broader, as were her arms and legs. She had built muscle over those years. Not because she wanted to. This way of life simply demanded great physical effort from her. And if she wasn't up to the task, it could be fatal.

Her face changed too. Abby’s jaw had widened a little. Her features were no longer so smooth. But she still had the face of an 18-year-old girl. Her green eyes, now wrapped in a slight red tint from the lack of sleep. Her hair was no longer what it used to be. Those long brown locks had been cut off. Her hair was very short. It was shaved on the sides and back of the neck, and cut short on top, the strands sticking out in all directions.

Her father used to cut it with scissors and a blade. She had to admit that over time he had gained practice and was getting better at it. Abby decided to cut it off when she realized that her long hair was impractical. She didn't have time to take care of it and she already lost all her hair ties. She now didn't have to worry about any of that.

With her hands she tried to put some order in her hair. But it seemed that those strands were not willing to cooperate. She gave in with a sigh and let it go. She was ready to go. She believed until she remembered one last thing.

She walked over to the backpack again and picked it up, picking up what was under it and looking at it for a few seconds. Between her hands was a pistol holster, with the respective weapon stored. It had several straps so it could be tied around her waist and thigh.

The world is no longer what it was. Now everything is hostile and it tries to kill you so it can keep your things. It’s eat or be eaten. Abby had to use it more times than she would like. Her father taught her how to use it when she was 14, though there wasn't much of a mystery.

She tied the gun sheath on her thigh. She adjusted the straps well. The weight of the gun on her thigh was a reminder that sometimes you had to kill to survive. A feeling she didn't like at all.

"Hurry up Abby!" Her father's voice outside her room brought her out of her thoughts.

"I'm coming!" she answered.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and took one last look around the place before grabbing the doorknob and leaving. She came across a scene similar to the one in the room. An abandoned apartment, with broken furniture and glass. All wrapped in the silence and mist of the morning. There was hardly any sunlight, the sun had not risen but the first rays began to show up.

She walked down the hall until she reached the living room. Her father was getting ready and putting away his things.

"Come on. Have some breakfast." He told her pointing with his chin at the food on the table.

Abby put her backpack down on one chair and sat down on another.

"Dry meet? Again?"

She looked at the food with a bored expression.

"Oh, excuse me miss. Do you want me to make you some pancakes? And some bacon?" David blurted out ironically.

The girl just rolled her eyes. To which Mason smirked.

Abby took some of the cured sausage and started her breakfast. She couldn't really complain, supplies were hard to come by. Getting long shelf life food was even more difficult. More than one night she had to go to sleep with an empty stomach, and even resort to hunting if the opportunity arose.

David ended up packing his backpack as well. He approached the table carrying two rifles. Abby watched as she finished her portion of food.

"Yesterday I cleaned them." the elder explained.

He rested one of the rifles on the side of the table, next to Abby. That was hers. The other rifle was a sniper rifle, with a telescopic sight, that was used by her father.

"Tie it to your backpack when you're done. We'll head out as soon as you're done."

She nodded.

When she finished, she did as her father told her, loading the rifle into one of the sides of the backpack, making sure it was securely fastened.

"Come on, wrap up."

When Abby looked up to her father, he handed her a jacket. A big old denim jacket, and lined with thick wool on the inside. Abby had used it countless times, it was her favorite, it had a couple of small holes but nothing serious. What she liked most about that jacket was a small badge that adorned one of her chest pockets. That ornament was very crappy, it was a beer cap attached to a safety pin. It had written in bold letters: "Congrats! You've won a Free Beer!" Her father made it for her on her last birthday as a gift.

She accepted the jacket and draped it over her, making sure to tuck the hood of the sweatshirt over her shoulders.

Then David handed her some gloves and a black beanie. She accepted them too, pulling the gloves and beanie over her head, making sure to cover her ears. She buttoned her jacket and slung the backpack over her shoulder, across her back. She waited for her father to bundle up properly as well. It was not good to have pneumonia in those days.

David put on his well-known greenish-brown jacket, beanie, and gloves. He placed his pack properly and the rifle strap over one of her shoulders. He also had a pistol strapped to his thigh.

"Ready?"

Abby nodded.

They both left the apartment, went down the stairs of the apartment block, some parts of the stairs were down. So they had to jump over them.

"Watch where you step." advised David.

They managed to get out of the building, finally reaching the street. The cold was the first thing to reach them. Then there was the incredible view of the city of Washington DC. Those big buildings, the skyscrapers, streets full of billboards. Everything made Abby open her mouth in astonishment.

But that big city was silent. There was no one on the streets, everything was desolate, not a single soul was walking around except for the little family of two. The great skyscrapers threatened to fall at some point, the abandoned buildings and streets, many of them destroyed or in very bad condition. There were wrecked or abandoned cars on the road. Storefronts were smashed, and nearly every subway entrance was demolished.

They were the echoes of a war. A war that was no longer being waged but people still suffered its consequences.

Five years ago, after Menéndez escaped from his prison and culminated his revenge on Frank Woods, a new threat appeared. it was not known where they had appeared from, a group of terrorists called The New Perseus. Cordis Die was child's game compared to what was to come later. Perseus put the whole world under their feet, took control of the combat drones and bombs of the most powerful countries, the United States, Russia and China, causing tensions and fights between countries, starting another world war. Perseus unleashed global pandemics, and released Nova 6 throughout the world's major cities.

Hell came to the world, more than half of the human population died in those five years, and the few that remained lost control. Governments disappeared or were overthrown, there were very violent riots. Presidents and politicians were killed. The remaining governments vanished. The world became anarchic, showing how cruel humanity can become when there is no longer order or law. And the only thing that remains is panic.

The main cities of the countries and the first world fell. Everything was left in a post-apocalyptic world.

Luckily, after the first three years, everything began to calm down, one day surprisingly there were no more massive terrorist acts. People began to think that they should group together to survive, restore order a little, they formed groups, alliances among themselves. Little by little, calm returned to a destroyed world, which was trying to get up again, but would never be the same again. No countries, no borders, no society.

Washington DC, like the rest of the big cities, had become a ghost town. The silence of the streets was proof of that. Abby and David walked through the city, watching windows, corners, and alleys.

At any moment they could be ambushed. People began to organize themselves into different alliances. Groups that fought against other groups for survival. Civil wars were the usual. That is why every time they went to a new city, they had to know which organizations controlled the city, which territories were neutral and which were not. Look for allies in the groups that could give them information, find the alliances that were peaceful and those that were hostile. But that did not remove the risk of being attacked by one of those organizations. They were an easy target, just two travelers. They were like a piece of meat in a cage full of lions. That is why they had to be very careful.

"Are you sure that guy was telling the truth?" Abby asked, not very convinced.

She walked beside her father, jumping over the odd barricade of rubble.

“What other option do we have? It's the only lead we have.” He replied.

"Of course, why trust a fucking drunk man who says that we will find a pilot willing to travel to Alaska when we find the ... What is their name again?"

"Wolves."

"Wolves? What kind of a name is that for an alliance? They don't have a lot of imagination if I’m honest…" Abby complained.

David chuckled and glanced at his daughter.

"According to that guy, they're peaceful people and the biggest organization around here, they sit inside the White House."

"Inside the White House?!"

"It seems so"

"Well, yes, they did a great job I guess…" assured the youngest.

Abby kicked a rock as they walked, and David didn't take his eyes off the broken windows. He had a bad feeling.

"And that pilot is supposed to have a plane or a helicopter with enough fuel to cross half the United States and then all of Canada? And he'll be willing to fly us?" She asked, not very sure.

David sighed.

"We won't know until we get there. That guy told us that he was a smuggler pilot and would soon be flying to Alaska for supplies."

"Of course... Sorry if I don't fucking trust him very much. Our luck hasn't been very good lately." Said Abby "Who knows, maybe we'll get shot before we can set foot in the White House."

"Technically they aren’t very hostile people and they are dedicated to welcoming refugees."

David and his daughter had been looking for transportation to travel to Alaska. To the place where David grew up with his father. There the situation seemed to be calmer, it would be a better place to settle down and start again.

Abby kicked the rock harder and shoved it under a burned-out car. She winced that her fun was over.

They walked for a long time through the abandoned streets. Little by little the wind grew, howling between the buildings. The sky clouded over as the morning passed. Abby put her hands under her armpits to try to keep them warm.

"This weather is fucking crazy…" she murmured.

"Yeah... These snowstorms aren't normal." David answered. "Stay close."

There was something in the environment that he didn't like. He felt as if someone was watching them.

David pointed to the entrance to an abandoned shopping center.

"Let's go inside and see what we find." he advised. "We'd better leave the streets for now."

Abby nodded, agreeing with him. She didn’t like the situation either.

They both entered. The building was large, there was rubble everywhere, the windows were broken and the walls were cracked. The view of a dilapidated shopping mall. The place was eerily silent. Sunlight streamed in through skylights in the roof, most of them broken, and bits of window litter scattered across the mall's polished floor.

"Stay alert." David ordered pulling out the gun.

Abby did the same as her father.

The silence kept all of Abby's senses on guard. She followed David very close. They walked looking at the shop windows, the abandoned shops and restaurants.

"Maybe we can find something useful around here." David said, looking at his daughter, showing a slight smile.

Abby knew there was something more.

"Did you find any snipers watching us from a rooftop?"

she asked.

David shook his head.

"No, but I had a feeling something bad was going to happen if we stayed that exposed. The sun is up already, there must be patrols around here." David explained

Abby didn't answer.

They continued exploring the mall. They searched the shops looking for something that could be useful for the trip. But almost all the stores had already been looted. They searched the first floor, found some duct tape and batteries for the flashlights. Then they went up the broken escalator, to the second floor.

Abby was rummaging through the drawers of a store cash register. She found a good amount of money. She let out a light chuckle.

"Hey dad."

David turned to see his daughter. Who showed him a wad of bills.

"Do you mind if we buy some souvenirs?"

David chuckled and walked over to Abby. He took the money and played with it for a while. The money had lost all value. It was no longer used anymore. Everything began to have a different price after the fall of governments. Now it was traded with barter and exchange of goods.

"Sure, we can go to the movies too. What was the name of that movie you liked so much? The one about space."

"Interstellar?"

"Yeah, that one. Would you like to watch it again?"

"Fuck yes. I miss going to the movies."

David chuckled.

"Although I like Star Trek more."

"My god dad... I still don't understand why mom married a man who likes Star Trek." Abby rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just that Star Wars is better."

David raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah! Bad guys are cooler. Darth Vader is the best villain."

Abby cleared her throat and faked Darth Vader's artificial breathing.

"Luke, I am your father." She said in a slightly deeper voice.

David laughed and shook his head.

"Someday I'll use that phrase with you."

"Okay, but don't cut my hand off with a lightsaber."

"I don’t promise anything."

Abby put her hand on her chest pretending to be offended.

"My God... Betrayed by my own father..."

This time it was David who rolled his eyes.

"Come on. Let's not waste any more time."

Abby started to answer but the sound of breaking glass stopped her. They both fell silent, not moving a single muscle.

"We aren’t alone."

David reached for the rifle that hung from the side of his daughter's backpack. He made sure the gun was loaded.

"Don't get away from me." David whispered.

Abby nodded and kept her index finger on the trigger of the gun. They both left the store in silence, watching their steps. Trying not to step on broken glass or trip over any debris.

David took a look before leaving the store. He motioned for Abby to follow him.

"We'll try to get out without attracting attention."

They heard voices downstairs. David looked over the railing that led to the floor below. He found a patrol of five men. They seemed to be alert, as if they were looking for someone. They were probably looking for the two of them.

"There are five armed men." David informed when he returned with his daughter.

"What do we do?" Abby frowned.

David didn't have time to answer because the sound of a gunshot interrupted him. The bullet grazed Abby's cheek, leaving a superficial cut on her cheek, a small part of her ear was missing too. Blood Started running on her cheek.

"Found them!" The man who had fired the shot yelled.

"Take cover!" David pushed his daughter behind a large stone planter that must have served as a decoration for the mall. David also took coverage with his daughter.

"Don't you dare raise your head."

In just the blink of an eye the mall was filled with gunfire. David aimed accurately and fired. Trying to use as few bullets as possible. They were short of ammunition. David killed two men. Abby kept her head down, just as her father had ordered, with the gun ready.

The other three men went up to the second floor without stopping shooting.

"Stay here. Don't move." David ordered.

He took advantage of the moment when the enemies were reloading their weapons to advance. He jumped over the stone planter and ran to take cover behind a pillar.

"You little piece of shit!" The voice of a sixth man echoed through the mall.

David turned toward the voice. Abby found herself wrestling with a man twice her size. He had a knife in one hand, swinging from side to side. Abby dodged as best she could. She had lost the gun at some point in the fight. Whenever she got the chance, she would throw a punch into the man's ribs.

David wanted to intervene but the rest of the enemies wouldn’t let him move from the site. If he moved an inch, they would shoot him.

Abby was nimble and quick, but a carelessness caused her to lose her rhythm. The man grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and threw her several meters into the air. Abby landed so hard the air was forced out of her lungs. She didn't have time to recover as the man lunged at her with the knife pointed at her throat. Abby used all her strength to push the knife away from her, but the man was stronger and the blade kept getting closer. Suddenly Abby kicked the man's balls with her knee. She took advantage of that moment of weakness to take the knife from the man and with a quick movement, she plunged it into his throat. Abby could see how life drained from the man's face, how the blood came out of his neck and mouth. As soon as she pulled the knife out of her neck, she kicked the man's body as far away from her as possible. Abby backed away. She watched as that man was surrounded by a pool of blood.

The two men fired again. The bullets blew off pieces of the column. David took the right opportunity, took aim and fired. With two clean shots that went through the heads of both men.

When the silence returned David ran to his daughter.

"Abby!"

The girl spit out some blood on the floor. Her hands were shaking due to adrenaline.

“Fucking bastard.”

David knelt in front of her, blocking her view of the bleeding man on the ground.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

David began to inspect his daughter. He was very worried.

"I’m ok. The ribs hurt but that’s all” She sighed. She clenched her jaw.

"Hey."

David took the girl's face with both hands, checking that wound made by that bullet.

It wasn’t the first time that she had killed someone, but she never got used to the feeling.

David noticed that she was lost in her thoughts.

"Close your heart." David said in a soft voice. "He would have killed you if you hadn't done it first."

Abby nodded with her eyes fixed on that dead man.

"Can you continue?"

Abby nodded and sighed, closing her eyes.

"Yeah... Let's get out of here."

David nodded and got up. He grabbed the knife that was on the ground and wiped the blade on the man's corpse's clothing. He looked at the knife. It was a steel butterfly knife. It seemed of good quality. He folded the knife away, hiding the blade, and handed it to Abby.

"You're going to need it. This won't be the last time." David said. Abby had lost her knife a couple months ago, it was a good opportunity to get a new one.

Abby looked at the knife for a few seconds and grabbed it. She played with it a little bit. Then she went to pick up her gun that was lying somewhere.

David took it upon himself to search the bodies for anything that might be useful. Abby helped.

"Hey, look at this." David called her.

Abby walked over to where her father was. Near David's feet was the dead body of one of the men who attacked them.

"What is it about?" she asked

"Look at their jackets. They all have the same patch."

David pointed to a little drawing of an animal etched into one of the corpse's shoulders.

"It's a dog?"

"No, it's a hyena. And they all have the same animal."

"Do you think they are part of a larger group?"

He nodded.

David looked up and looked around until he found some stairs that led to the upper floors.

"I think we can go up to the roof over there. Let's take a look at the city."

They went up to the roof in silence..

When they got to the roof. They both got to see a view of Washington D.C. Abby was looking at the buildings until David pointed to something in the distance. She tried to focus her eyes, until she finally saw a large white building with a large dome and no building around it.

"That's where we're going. The White House."

#frank woods #cod bocw #black ops cold war #russell adler #call of duty cold war #call of duty #david mason #alex mason #helen park #grigori weaver #jason hudson #cod bo2 #cod bo4 #mason's legacy

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commander-krios · 1 year

Text

Happy KOTOR Exchange @hnnny! Hope you enjoy some Atton and Zena love in this treat fic. <3

Title: Forgiveness

Summary: The Jedi Exile helps Atton forgive himself for his dark past, perhaps helping herself in the process.

Words: 1233

Rating: G

Relationship: Female Jedi Exile/Atton Rand

Additional Tags: Love/Friendship, Love Confessions, Dark Pasts, Healing

~~~~

Atton was avoiding her.

Revealing his past hadn’t just been difficult for him to talk about, but it also forced him to recall the awful things he’d done. Zena knew how difficult that was, especially when there was so much about the past you wanted to forget.

That you needed to forget because if you didn’t, it would weigh on you until you did one of two things: become the monster you assumed you were or you went insane.

Zena pulled down the ponytail she kept her hair in, running her fingers through the delicate strands to get the knots out. Humming under her breath, she made her way to the crew's quarters, intending to bury herself in blankets and sleep for the next day or so. If anyone bothered her, she might strand them on a planet for a few days just to get some peace.

She wouldn’t really do that, but the thought brought a smile to her face. She was so preoccupied that it took her brain a moment to catch up to what she saw when she cleared the threshold.

Atton was sitting on the floor, his back to her, the jacket he usually wore laying on the bunk beside him. It was obvious that he hadn’t noticed her presence yet. She leaned against the wall, watching him with quiet interest. He was tinkering with something on the floor, unaware of his surroundings. In any other situation, it would have been dangerous to be so engrossed, but the ship was safe. It was home.

Their home away from the chaos of the galaxy.

Zena admired him from a distance, his brunette hair falling in his face as he concentrated on whatever he was doing. His arms were strong under the thin white shirt he wore, his back flexing with each movement he made. She’d enjoyed Atton’s company these past months, his wit and charm a nice change from the strict Jedi (and their even stricter moral code) she was accustomed to. He always got into some kind of trouble, but that’s what made traveling with him interesting.

And fun.

A moment more passed before she shuffled her feet slightly, causing the smallest noise to catch his attention without startling him. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening at the sight of her. “How long have you been there?”

Zena crossed the room to stand beside him, finally getting a look at what he was working on. It was an old blaster… one that probably hadn’t worked in years. Interesting, she didn’t realize he liked to work with old tech. She always learned something new every day.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Atton averted his gaze, staring at the blaster in his hands instead. “That’s not true.”

She sighed, sitting beside him on the cold floor. Crossing her legs, she placed her hands on her knees, watching as he struggled to find something to say. Even without her connection to the Force, she could feel the uncertainty, the struggle that Atton was battling inside. It wasn’t a secret what this was about.

With a quiet voice, she spoke the words that had been brewing in her mind for days. “Atton- you’ve done nothing wrong.”

When he finally glanced up, his hazel eyes were haunted. It hurt to see how his past tormented him. “How can you say that? After everything I’ve done… the Jedi I’ve hurt… All because I was angry. Because I hated them.” His hands shook as he put the blaster on the ground, his work forgotten at the heavy weight of their conversation. “What if you’d been one of those Jedi, Zena? What if you hadn’t joined Revan and I… I hurt you?”

His eyes were pleading with her for comfort, for the truth only he knew, but nothing she said would completely satisfy him. He believed himself a monster and maybe he was… perhaps they both were. The war against the Mandalorians had corrupted something in their souls. Irreparably damaged them.

But maybe they could heal one another.

“Thankfully, we never have to worry about what if. Because right now, you are here with me and you-” Zena hesitated before taking his hands between her own, feeling him stiffen at the sudden touch. Somehow, she found the strength to continue. “You mean a lot to me, Atton. The past doesn’t matter.”

“It should.” Atton pulled away from her, although unwillingly. It was clear that her touch brought him peace. Just as it did for her.

Reaching out, she pressed her fingers against his shirt, touching the place where his heart lay. “This is what matters and I know your heart, Atton. You’re a good man.”

Atton covered her hand with his own, pressing it against his chest. The shirt was warm from his skin, his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath. He sighed in defeat. “The things I’ve done… I shouldn’t be forgiven.”

“That means I shouldn’t either.”

Atton shook his head, but he didn’t pull from her touch this time. “You did what you had to to win a war. A war that needed winning. I enjoyed hurting those Jedi.”

“You need to forgive yourself.” She moved closer, her hair brushing lightly against him. Taking her free hand, she gently touched his jaw, prompting him to look into her eyes. “Because no matter what you’ve done, the man I see sitting in front of me is not the same man as the one you described. This one is kind and honest and willing to sacrifice himself for others.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” He joked, the tiniest of smiles touching his lips. “Kreia might wither from the thought.”

“And-” Zena continued, smiling at the interruption. “That is the man I fell in love with.”

Atton stared at her, processing the confession she’d just made. It hadn’t been made lightly. She knew it would change everything between them. But maybe it needed to be changed. For both of their sakes.

“If it helps, I forgive you, Atton.” She continued, not sure if she wanted him to speak. “I forgive you and maybe… maybe I can forgive myself too. One day.”

Atton shook off the shock, a smile that burned like a thousand suns spreading across his lips. “I don’t- uh, what I meant to say- oh screw it.”

He closed the gap between them, lips pressed against hers in a kiss that Zena could only describe as everything her dreams could never provide. All of the passion, the unspoken words and feelings, and of course the pain that stained both of their souls, came pouring out in that kiss. Atton tangled his hands in her hair, his tongue tracing the inside of her mouth. Zena gripped his shoulders, feeling the muscles clench beneath her touch. Wherever her fingers touched him felt like fire, her repressed passion roaring back to life after what felt like an eternity of coldness.

Atton pulled away too soon, breathing heavily against her skin as he buried his face against her neck. Her hands fluttered over his shoulders, his back, until she was clinging to him. He caught his breath enough to whisper “I love you” into the silence.

She smiled, his body pressed against hers, his embrace the safety she’d craved for so long. No matter what happened after, she wouldn’t regret trusting her heart.

She wouldn’t regret trusting Atton with her heart.

#hnnny #my writing #kotor #kotor 2 #star wars: knights of the old republic #star wars knights of the old republic #kotor exchange #star wars: knights of the old republic gift exchange #kotor gift exchange 2022 #atton rand #jedi exile #jedi exile x atton rand

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