#series: hammer of the gods (will drive our ships to new lands) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

screechthewriter · 6 months

Text

toy soldiers | a god of war/apex legends crossover

They all wear masks in the arena.

His is not one that he wanted to wear again, but it is the only one he could think of. Atreus had been the creative one. He would have come up with something better.

But he isn’t there. So Kratos wears the name of the Ghost of Sparta once again, though many shorten it to the Ghost. That is easier to hear, though not much.

No one seems to recognize it. He thinks at first that he’s finally faded into obscurity; that maybe, finally, he has been forgotten. Then, he is confronted by one of the other competitors.

“Okay, I’ve been dying to know.” The one called Ashwin Narita—Ace, though he insists on being called Ashwin—looks up from the shotgun he’s loading. “Ghost of Sparta, is that like the myth? You know…former mortal turned god of war, killed all the Greek gods?”

He says it without judgment, just curiosity. That doesn’t stop Kratos’s stomach from twisting itself into knots. “…yes,” he says finally, because lying wouldn’t serve any purpose. The man—the being who was once a man, he supposes—isn’t asking if he is the Ghost of Sparta. Only if he named himself for the Ghost of Sparta. There’s a difference.

“Huh. Neat. Rock on.” Ashwin gives Kratos’s arm a very light punch as he walks past to check the window. Kratos wants to lean away, but it’s the first friendly gesture he’s received in a long time. “Thought I was the only one in this dump who appreciates the classics. Hope I don’t have to kill you any time soon.”

There’s a grim smile in his voice but none on his face, because he doesn’t have a face left. The blue light that makes up where his face should have been conveys nothing, aside from occasionally dimming or flickering when he’s in distress. Kratos thinks back to when Freya brought back Mimir. At the time, the strange arcane metals she’d affixed to the head had seemed cruel—almost enough to make him reconsider the resurrection.

Now, watching Ashwin peer out the window, Kratos thinks she was merciful. At least she had left Mimir his face.

[He asks later, because it can’t hurt to have a few allies …what about Ace? What does that mean? Ashwin ducks his head. “Family name,” he says, his voice bittersweet. Kratos does not ask again.]

War is still the same; its particulars, however, change rapidly. As humanity grows, so does their creativity with its tools. He might be the god of war, but Kratos still finds it difficult to keep up.

Fortunately—if humorously—Bangalore assumes everyone in the arena is less educated than her.

Remember, Hemlock fires in bursts. One to break the shield, one to break the man.

Try to find a triple take if you can. Less projectile drop, might suit you better.

Flatline hits harder, but the 301’s easier to control. Your choice.

There was a time when he would have been offended, but he’s learned to swallow his pride by now. Besides, the information is useful, and she is a competent fighter. Easy to work with. In many ways, she reminds him of the Spartan warriors he once fought beside. It reminds him of better times—of being mortal.

He tries not to believe in omens, not these days. But it still feels like a good one when her name appears next to his.

[“We could’ve used a guy like you in the IMC.”

He thinks of Atreus and says nothing.]

The one called Bloodhound speaks often of the all-father.

The old fuck would love that if he were still alive.

Kratos grits his teeth and gives the tracker a wide berth. He may have tempered his rage, put the gods behind him, but he’s heard enough of the Aesir to last several lifetimes. Besides, there are strict rules against fighting other competitors outside of the arena.

And there’s no sense in making more enemies.

[Ravens appear in the arena when there should be none. The tracker’s eyes seem to follow him more closely. Kratos catches himself looking over his shoulder more often. Wondering if he’d really been able to escape the eyes of Asgard.]

There is no honor in the arena—no true honor. He knows this. He has numbed himself to it. But some competitors have less honor than others.

He distrusts the scientist from the second he lays eyes on him. Kratos has seen cruelty before—he has been cruel before. The man hides his behind the language of science, but...no, he is cruel.

To make matters worse, he keeps talking.

“You’re efficient, but your kills lack refinement. Perhaps…”

Kratos growls. He tries to walk away, but they are on the same team. He cannot go far without the man following. “It was merely a suggestion,” Caustic says, as casually as if he were suggesting a meal in the dining hall. “No need to be emotional.”

“Keep your advice to yourself. I know more of killing than you ever could.” Lifetimes of it. Eons. I’m the fucking god of war. “I don’t need you...”

Their third pipes up over the communicator: “Uh, hey, guys, I’m increasingly uncomfortable with the energy we’re creating on this team, so can we maybe save this for later and focus on not dying? Please? Thank you.”

Kratos bites his tongue. Fortunately, the scientist does as well.

Perhaps, he thinks, Caustic will find himself at the end of Kratos’s blade in the next match.

He refuses to dwell on the thought any longer.

[“I don’t think a man of your bearing has any right to act superior.”

He is right, though Kratos will never admit it.]

He knows a fugitive when he sees one. A life of hiding, of keeping yourself closed off from everyone and everything…he knows it. He’s living it now.

Crypto lives it now. Kratos isn’t even sure his name is Hyeon Kim. He’d bet money on it, if he were the gambling sort. But he isn’t, and it’s none of his business anyway.

He also knows what loss feels like—how it sits on the shoulders, in the eyes. Crypto wears that, too. It smolders like coals when he looks at the banners around the arena—when the Syndicate’s officials deign to show themselves.

Kratos says nothing. But he takes note of it.

[“Forever family.”

He just barely hears it under the chatter of whatever the others were discussing. He hears the sorrow in it, the bitterness. He makes note of that as well.]

They may have been putting on a show for others, but the grim misery of war still taints their every step, haunting them the way real war does. True mirth, true joy, is hard to find.

Makoa Gibraltar has that joy. Even marred by sadness, it shines like the sun.

It reminds Kratos of old days too. Of a long-dead soldier, and of the boy named for him.

The man’s presence is both a comfort and a painful reminder.

[He thinks, sometimes, of asking Gibraltar for aid. If anyone could help him, it’s the man that seems to hold the respect of many in the competition. He refrains, but the thought lingers.]

It makes sense to him that the healer’s hands are some of the most deadly.

Lifeline—Ajay Che—reminds him of Faye in that regard. Eager to help, but still deadly. Resolute and no-nonsense, but without losing her sense of humor.

Atreus would like her, he thinks, though he tries not to dwell on the thought for too long.

[“What, you get stabbed by a Ronin?” she asks, her sharp eyes tracing the scar on his stomach as she tends to a different wound.

He shakes his head. “It’s an old wound. Doesn’t matter.”

She looks skeptical, but doesn’t ask about it again.]

He is sure some of the woman’s confidence is earned—she fights well, and there are many who whisper the name Loba Andrade as if it were an ill omen. Sometimes he thinks she is a bit too sure of herself, but it does not harm him if she does. Such overconfidence is, in mortals, harmless.

Had she been like he was once—like he is now—he would be more concerned.

[She catches him once staring at her cane. She doesn’t ask questions—only move it out of his sight, as if afraid he might try to take it. She’s watched him more carefully since. He isn’t sure how to explain that he’d been thinking of his son.]

Atreus had spent weeks carefully gathering and assembling the components needed to make himself invisible, to create illusions of himself. He had been so proud when he figured it out.

It is strange to see that same ability in the hands of someone like Elliott Witt.

The man could not be more different from Atreus. He has an utter lack of confidence that he covers up with banter, false mirth aimed for himself, as if self-flagellation could truly serve as a shield against others harming him. He is a capable fighter, but absolutely insufferable to have on team, because he never shuts up.

Kratos quickly decides he prefers the man as a bartender. At least at his bar, the chatter is a welcome accompaniment to the alcohol. Both serve to fill the empty spaces in his mind. To distract him when the arena cannot.

It is a strange reprieve, and if he had been told a few years ago that he would be spending a lot of time at a place called the Paradise Lounge, he would have called that person a fool.

These truly are strange times.

[“You just didn’t strike me as a wine guy. That’s on me for having, uh...preconc...pre…for judging a book by its cover.” Witt sets down the glass and grins brightly. “Nice to see someone not dedicated to proving they’re manly by drinking endless horse piss.”

The wine is nothing like the drinks he remembers from Greece, but it’s still good.]

Languages have changed over time—his own native Greek evolving over the years, the languages of Midgard he learned from Faye and Arteus shifting as well. It was difficult enough to keep up with those changes; learning something new feels too daunting.

Sometimes he wishes he had it in him to learn. At the very least, it would help him know what Octavio Silva is saying.

He might have been able to guess at it if he spoke more slowly, but he is called Octane for a reason. He does nothing slowly, including speak. Even his English is too fast for Kratos to follow. Most conversations go about the same:

“Heycompadres, shittonofheavyammohere!”

“What?”

“Heavy ammo. Your coms broken or something?”

Kratos considers telling him to slow down more than once, but refrains. He knows there’s no use.

[Octane does teach the room at large, Kratos included, some profanities in his native Spanish during one flight to the arena. Kratos isn’t sure how many he will remember, but it’s entertaining nonetheless.]

Pathfinder declares them friends after one match.

The fact that Pathfinder calls everyone his friend is the only thing that keeps Kratos from panicking at the declaration.

He has no time for friends—not in the traditional sense. But Pathfinder’s version, where there are no real obligations besides politeness outside of the arena and fair combat inside it, suits him fine.

[Sindri would be fascinated by Pathfinder. Kratos never thought he’d miss the damn dwarf so much.]

Ramya Parekh is brash, loud, crude, and very good with weaponry.

It feels as if Brok’s ghost has come back to haunt him.

Haunt is perhaps the wrong word. While the resemblance is, at first, a bit painful, he finds it strangely comforting after a time. The differences between the two—age, species, Parekh being somewhat less crude and more good-tempered—help.

She lets him hang around her shop at the back of Witt’s bar, so long as he occasionally buys her alcohol and compliments her work. It’s less difficult than one might think. He might not know much about the creation of these new weapons, but he knows good work when he sees it.

[“You ever thought about getting an upgrade?”

“I don’t plan on using another weapon once I’m done here.”

She laughs. “Sorry to tell you, mate, but you picked the wrong system for that.”

He knows.]

His first meeting with Revenant is at the end of the simulacrum’s gun. Their relationship has not improved since.

It doesn’t help that Revenant has a talent for honing in on weaknesses, real or perceived. He aims for Katros’s age first, then goes for every rumor that’s started spreading about Kratos. His alleged status as a mercenary, war criminal…Revenant’s insults poke and probe, trying to find a weak point.

Kratos tries not to show one. Tries. The façade drops when he is paired with Revenant and the girl, Paquette. She is capable, as always, but they still end up backed into a corner. Paquette is injured. He and Revenant are out of ammo.

He does what he has to.

Two squads later, he manages to return to their position with a med kit and news that there’s a clear path to the next ring. Paquette sees the blood on his hands, but says nothing; she is mostly grateful for the medical aid. Revenant says nothing as well…at first. The bastard waits until they’re alone after the match to speak.

“Shame they put a limit on you,” he says, his voice low and mocking. “You look like a man who knows how to make a massacre.”

Kratos says nothing. He tries to hide how his hands shake as he wipes the blood away.

Revenant still sees.

“Glad to know I’m not the only real killer here.”

Kratos wants to respond, but he does not know what will come out if he does.

His hands continue to shake.

[“Do you have any idea what it’s like, doing this for hundreds of years?”

Kratos laughs. That seems to take the simulacrum off guard. “What?” Revenant demands.

“You have no idea, draugr.”]

Natalie Paquette hates him from the second she lays eyes on him.

He takes it to heart, until Gibraltar speaks to him. Last few new guys before Rampart brought a lot of trouble with them. It’s nothing personal, brother. She’d be nervous no matter who you were.

He tries to believe that, but it’s difficult when she glares at him with a distrust he has only seen in the eyes of those who know his true nature.

Earning her trust would not help the situation, he knows—both because he does not plan to stay here forever, and because that kind of trust cannot truly be won. The best he can do is make himself as unthreatening as possible and hope she learns he means her no harm.

He shouldn’t care. Kratos knows he shouldn’t care. That he should close his heart to the anger he sees hiding behind that distrust.

He fears it is a losing battle, but he knows he must try.

[Learning she has loss behind that anger does not help.]

In his day, they called it magic.

Now they use words like holotech and faster than light travel and phase shift and call it science.

The effects are more or less the same—sometimes more refined, but always familiar. When the one called Wraith slips from sight, he thinks of Brok and Sindri. When she whispers portents, he thinks of oracles in their shrines—Delphi, Dodona, Trophonius.

She would have been revered once.

Wraith is a quiet sort, reserved, with mistrusting blue eyes (familiar, almost). Kratos knows little of her, and he is sure this is by design.

But from what he does know, she would not find solace in being considered a seer.

[She has lost a lot of blood when she grabs his arm and whispers that it wasn’t his fault. They take her away to see a doctor before he can ask what she means. By the time she is well again, he is too afraid to bring it up again.]

He hears of Kuben Blisk in whispers long before he meets the man in person.

Actually seeing him after a match chills his blood in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. Kratos is wary even before the man asks to speak to him alone, and more so once he does.

“You’re quite the heavy hitter,” Blisk notes. He’s set out two bottles of beer; Kratos refuses to touch his. “Very interesting fighting style.”

“Hmm.”

“Have we met before?”

“…no.”

“Never fought in the Frontier Wars?”

“No.” His chest goes tight; he knows what’s coming, but desperately hopes that he’s wrong. “Why?”

“Some of the men from my old unit had a run-in with someone on the border…didn’t believe what they were telling me at first, how one man could plow through some of my best with his bare hands, but now that I’ve seen you…” Blisk leans back and raises an eyebrow. “Seems a bit more likely.”

Kratos focuses on his breathing.

“Though now that I think about it, he was younger than you. This gift of yours genetic?”

The chair’s arm rest cracks under Kratos’s grip.

That’s all the answer Blisk needs.

He doesn’t ask anything else—only smiles, drinks his beer, and says he looks forward to seeing Kratos in the ring again. Got a lot of money riding on you, Ghost.

That wounds Kratos more deeply than more questions would have.

[Where on the border, he wants to ask. How long ago. Did the stranger survive the encounter. Did he have red hair. What was his name.

Kratos thinks about it, every day. He knows where Blisk spends his time, now that he’s back; it would be easy to find him, to make him talk.

He tempers his anger—tells himself that men like Kuben Blisk don’t talk, that this is certainly a trap, that he needs to bide his time and earn his wins and continue searching for himself.

But if Kuben Blisk had aimed to harm him, to burn himself into Kratos’s mind as deeply as the blades once burned themselves into his arms…he had succeeded.]

#fic: toy soldiers #series: hammer of the gods (will drive our ships to new lands)#god of war #apex legends #respawn cinematic universe

4 notes · View notes

screechthemighty · 2 years

Text

Just for funsies, here's a quick primer on my God of War fanfics, for anyone who's interested in reading them. So far everything has been written PRE-Ragnarok release, though I definitely have plans for more stuff.

will the circle be unbroken? is the series where I've been sticking all the interconnected fics I wrote and assumed would be non-canon once Ragnarok hit. They're not NOT canon, but I definitely had Kratos open up about a lot more than he had in canon and also assumed Thrud was the oldest daughter. So less canon divergent than my usual but don't expect them to align with Ragnarok 100%. I'll probably be borrowing fic canon from these in my Ragnarok follow up fics so long as it doesn't contradict Ragnarok canon.

memories of mother is a series I've been working on exploring Laufey's story. It has a lot of overlap with the "will the circle be unbroken" but has also been like. Planned out and stuff, lmao. I'm going to be continuing this one and integrating Ragnarok canon, but it won't be fully canon-canon. If you're new here, just know that happens with me a lot.

hammer of the gods / will drive our ships to new lands is a crossover series I started back when I played Apex Legends. I don't play Apex anymore but I've kept writing this because I'm emotionally attached to them now. It is very non-canon for Apex Legends and also not Ragnarok canon, but people like them, so there's that. (If you regularly comment on my crossover fics know that I love you.)

I also re-wrote Fallen God because I hated how Fallen God went and wrote Mimir's first meeting with Kratos and Atreus from Mimir's POV. It's the most canon thing I've written yet.

So yeah, that's my fics, I have more ideas incoming, hope you enjoy them!!!!

#fic blogging

6 notes · View notes

theladybarnes · 3 years

Photo

AVENGERS, ASSEMBLE - CH8: TEAM WORK MAKES THE DREAM WORK

We come from the land of the ice and snow From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow The hammer of the gods Will drive our ships to new lands To fight the horde, sing and cry Valhalla, I am coming

FEATURING: Thor Odinson, Eric Selvig, & Natasha Romanoff WORD COUNT: 2,017 SERIES MASTERLIST: ★

The two of you landed down on the ground surprisingly gracefully. You had to cling onto his back like a koala for the jump over but he managed to get over just fine. Gingerly, he help set you down on the ground. Letting the two of you see the streets for the first time.

People were still running rampant in fear. Down the line of the city, you can see dozens of Chitauri release a blitzkrieg attack on the streets. Your heart sank at the sight. To your right, you notice Thor stiffen up. Shock and disbelief etched on his face. “We can help.” Reaching out for his arm you gave him an affirmative squeeze. “We can do this.”

He nods his head and the two of you immediately begin to help those around you. You both take charge in gathering the crowds towards the safest direction. “These guys aren’t going to lighten up. No one has any cover.” You think for a moment. “JARVIS, can you tell me where’s the nearest subway entrance?”

“There are two entrances a block down the street. Captain Rogers has notified the NYPD for a perimeter as far as thirty-ninth street.”

You help an elderly woman from a clove in the alleyway. “Head down to the subways. Take cover and keep going until you get past thirty-ninth!” You keep repeating the message to others and usher in the directions for people to go. There’s more shops releasing herds of people the more you and Thor help. Bloodied and bruised bodies run past you in a blur.

“JARVIS, make sure to notify any on site medical staff that there’s a lot of people in need coming in. I’m talking dozens at least.”

Right away, Miss Stark.”

There’s a loud banging in the distance and you finally hear the screams of kids from within the scattered cars. “Thor!” he looks to where your finger pointed towards and dashed over to rip the car door off. You reach into the car and help carefully extract the two boys and their very dazed mother out of the vehicle.

“Madam, are you alright?” Thor asked as he helped her gain her balance. The woman rightfully looked up at Thor with a blush. She mutters out a yeah, and you hold back a chuckle. There’s a lot of people who would react like that to seeing Thor for the first time.

When she’s done gazing at the God, you and Thor lead the three over towards the path that the crowds were following. Before they could leave, the younger of the boys tugged at your arm. “Who is that?” he asked in awe towards your friend. His mother was already pulling him away but you still called out.

“His name is Thor! God of Thunder!”

The blonde next you puffed out his chest a bit and you playfully punched his shoulder. Which was a bit of a mistake considering that your fist still hurt from having to punch Loki earlier. Right when the majority of the people had cleared down the path, a group of Chitauri began to descend down the side of the buildings surrounding you both.

“Well, we’ve been working well together so far.”

“I was thinking just the same, little Lady.”

When they finally circled the two of you, Thor takes the lead and incapacitates one of the creatures and throws you it’s spear. Finally wielding you with a weapon that can do some damage.

You may not know a lot about any Asgardian culture, but their fighting style was so much more of a group effort than you thought. Even if he didn’t know a thing about how you were taught to fight, Thor did his best to be as in sync with you as he could.

The two of you continued on until you were able to clear more of the area. More NYPD officers were able to come join in your efforts and clear any leftover Chitauri on the grounds. You looked down the road and noticed more coming towards where the others were.

“I’ll keep a lookout here at the tower for if Loki comes back, I think you should join the others. They’re definitely going to need you.”

He followed to where your gaze went and gave you a nod. “You’ll call in my ear if you need me?” That made you laugh a bit before you nodded. “I’ll be fine here. Go kick more ass.”

With a nod he begins to twirl the handle of his hammer and shoots up into the sky. Leaving you left to guard the building.

----

Although with the help of a few NYPD officers and a handful of helpful civilians, things don’t seem to die down as easily as you hoped it would.

“Please tell me we have an idea on how to stop them from coming?” you said into your comms.

“Things are a little too packed here, Scout. We haven’t exactly had the chance to come up with a plan.” Natasha said. She sounded winded and you sort of regret letting Thor go without you. “How’s it going down the line?”

“Managed to get a steady exit for the civilians here. I’m still outside the tower. I’d say five more minutes till I have the area clear for any future attacks.”

There’s another rumble down the road and you put together that Thor has finally been able to join them. Steve’s gruff voice came through your ear as the rest of the team began to plan things out. You were a little disappointed at how much you felt you were lacking but knew better than to jeopardize the group with your less than skills.

“Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us and that’s what we need. Without him, these things could run wild.”

There’s a break in his speech and you figure that they’ve been hit with another fight. Bruce apparently has joined in with them and while they’re talking things out.

“Stark, we got him.”

“Banner?”

“Just like you said.”

“Then tell him to suit up. I’m bringing the party to you.”

Down the road you can see one of the giant beasts swimming in the air towards your direction. Your blood runs cold and you’re somewhat thankful that in all this fighting, that wasn’t one of your opponents.

“I don’t see how that’s a party.” You nod your head even though no one can see you. “I’m agreeing with Nat. How the hell are we gonna stop something like that?”

“You’re not going to stop anything, kid. Get your ass on the roof and give us a clue on how to close up that portal. We’re gonna need more of us in the skies.” Clint grunted.

It’s almost sudden after that the beast is abruptly stopped as if he’s been hit and is falling to the ground. Echoes of the Chitauri roaring along with a new roar you’re assuming is the Hulk’s flow through the city. The rumble in the sky informs you only that more of the Chitauri have entered the city. And from the looks of it, things were getting closer and closer to the end of the battle. But with how things were starting to look, you weren’t sure which side might win.

“Sprout, you up top yet?” Tony reminds you.

“I’m on my way up now. Do we have a plan?”

“Call it, Captain.”

Running into the building, you’re met with an empty lobby, though even through the thick walls of the main floor, you could still hear commotion from outside. Entering the elevator, you click the button for the roof access. You’re instantly met with a red glaring ‘DENIED’.

“Right, I don’t work here. JARVIS, can you get me access to the roof please?”

“One moment, Miss Stark.”

It’s only exactly a moment before the box starts to move up. Steve finally addresses you in his long speech.

“Scout, Nat and I are going to continue coverage down here. Try and see if you can hack into the device that’s keeping the portal open. As far as we know it should be Dr. Selvig up top. Be careful, he’s still under Loki’s spell and might be aggressive.”

The elevator stops on the floor above the roof, taking you to the stairs. “Okay, give me a minute for an update.” You’re about to open the doors to the staircase when Thor chimed in. His voice was laced with worry.

“Please be careful with him, Little Lady. He is my dear friend.”

“I’ll make sure to do my best, Thor. I promise.”

The door squeaked a bit and you could hear murmurs of deep voices from the top. The moment you quietly closed the door, you peeked over the railing to see there were two SHIELD agents standing guard in front of the rooftop entrance.

You thought quickly to open the door again and make a loud slam. Drawing one of the guards down to inspect. Hiding on the stairs a floor down, you waited until he was at the door to sneak behind him and take him out. A punch to the back of his head had him landing against the metal with a heavy thud before he slid down.

Very happily, you take any available weapon on his body and equip yourself with stuff you’re actually used to practicing with. The other zombie agent is quick to join you down the stairs, but you use the baton you just got to attack and send him to the floor with his partner. Not wanting to take the risk of them coming to, you use one of their cuffs and tie them both to the stairs.

Bursting through the entrance you’re met with the machine that sparked life into the portal. Before you could even make your way to the machine, Natasha falls from the sky and lands with a roll onto the rooftop.

“Oh my God, Nat!” you rushed over to her side as she stood up. You checked her over and noticed she was bleeding from the crown of her head a little bit. Along with a few other scrapes and bruises. “Did you get here by using one of those alien hover bikes or did you learn to fly while I was gone?”

At first she only responded with a chuckle before she engulfed you into a tight hug. “Next time I invite you to watch me interrogate someone, do me a favor and don’t try it out alone?” Her words were joking, but you knew by the way she held onto you that she was serious. A pang of guilt returned to your chest. “I promise.”

You both pull apart and walk over towards the machine. You type away trying to get inside the encryption that Dr. Selvig had set up.

“The sceptre..”

The two of you turn to find Dr. Selvig on the floor. Going over to his side, you leaned down and inspected him to make sure the familiar neon blue of Loki’s magic had left his eyes. “Someone will be glad to know you’re alright, Doctor.”

He gave a small smile before he looked up towards the machine. “Loki’s sceptre. The energy. The tesseract can’t fight it,” Natasha moved over to crouch beside you. “But you can’t protect against yourself.”

“It’s not your fault.” she quickly interjected. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“Actually, I think I did. I built in a safety to cut their power source.”

You glanced back to Natasha, her thoughts were already running far ahead and you looked at her expectantly. She finally focused back. “Loki’s sceptre.” He gave her a quick nod as he leaned a bit more to the edge of the roof.

“It may be able to close the portal. And I’m looking right at it.”

He turned to look over the edge and you slowly approached beside him to glance down. The final key to this battle glowing down below you three this whole time. You turn to Natasha and climb up from the edge.

“Let’s end this.”

#thor fanfic #thor x reader #platonic #natasha x reader #kinda fruity if you squint #marvel fanfic #aa

21 notes · View notes

blueelectricroom · 2 years

Photo

Did any of you guys receive the WHAT IS A MAN? questionnaire from the Census Bureau this week?

They are trying to get ahead of the game, apparently, now that both the Supreme Court and the Department of Motor Vehicles are on record as not knowing what a woman is. (I guess the census folks plan to approach the question from the other way around the barn, so to speak.) Below are my answers.

Q. Do you get at least 130 minutes of exercise each week?

A: If taking the wrong mail that’s in my box to the right box somewhere along my street four times a week counts, then yes.

Q. Do you wake up several times each night to urinate?

A: No. I handle all that while I’m watching Netflix. Usually some Scandinavian police drama. Thank the Lord for “pause,” am I right?

Q. Have you ever fired all of your guns at once and exploded into space?

A: I lack the resources for that kind of thing, but I’m not ashamed that my income places me squarely in the middle class. I’m no Elon, but I like to think I carry myself with a certain élan. Ha!

Q. Are you now, or have you ever been, out on the scene like a sex machine?

A: If by “machine” you mean something along the lines of a fulcrum, a lever, or waterwheel, then sure, why not?

Q. Are you bad, are you Black, are you cool, and do you have the mob on the run?

A: Well I’m certainly not Black. I suppose the implication here is that my white privilege spares me from ever having to fight organized crime. Well, last time I checked, most of the guys on the task force were white.

Q. Do you have spurs that go “jingle jangle jingle?”

A: This is obviously your sly way of mocking me because I don’t enjoy horseback riding or bronco busting. Well, I have a management role with our rodeo association’s board of directors, and we have a saying: guys in white collars don’t wear chaps. (at the office)

Q. Have you ever dared to eat a peach?

A: Goading me into an exegesis of T. S. Eliot is so 1991. And how do you know what my concentration was in college? But if this is meant to be taken literally, then I’ll just note that I’m on a first-name basis with the mayor of Clanton, Alabama, and I’m dating a woman who owns a farm just south of Atlanta, Georgia.

Q. Have you ever seen a red door and wanted to paint it black?

A: Almost daily, but if I ran to Lowe’s or Sherwin Williams every time a homeowner in this neighborhood made a bad design decision, I’d never have a free weekend. So I just wait until my darkness goes and then get back to whatever crime series is on Netflix.

Q. Did you shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die?

A: This probably sounds like an old lawyer’s trick, but I’ve never been within the city limits of Reno, Nevada.

Q: Have you ever been caught in the middle of a crossfire hurricane?

A: I was born in one, mofo! Just kidding. But a few years back I did have the roof replaced due to some hail damage. FYI, the deductible is where they get you.

Q. Have you recently scuttled across floors of silent seas?

A: Hell yes, any time I spot so much as one jellyfish. Hate those fucking things. Wait, is this another T. S. Eliot deal?

Q. Did you, while employed as hammer of the gods, drive your ship to new lands to fight the horde, and then sing and cry “Valhalla, I am coming?”

A: Let’s put it this way: at various retailers, auto manufacturers, snack and soft drink makers, and at least one hospital, folks in management do rightly tremble when my name pops up in the customer satisfaction survey.

Q. Does the record show that, through it all, you took all the blows and did it your way?

A: Good question. I mean, what is a man anyway?

#what is a man #what has he got

4 notes · View notes

niqhtlord01 · 4 years

Text

Humans are weird: Mech Suits

Prelude: The Hive Wars As is with most first contact situations with a new species on the galactic scale the first interactions with the Hive were of the hostile nature.

They had been slowly expanding across the stars through the use of their continent sized bioships that would set down on new worlds and begin spreading a organic like material across the entire planet that the Hive could mold into whatever they needed. True they could not travel as fast as most jump capable vessels, but their bioships produced a rare organic compound that was ten times more potent than average space fuel which propels them steadily enough.

One such ship landed on a fringe moon belonging to the Sandrul species. The moon’s isolation and holy status within Sandrul society had aided Hive in establishing their foothold as only the Sandrul priests were allowed to travel to the moon. It was several weeks before returning priests discovered this but by then the Hive bioship had terraformed roughly 1/6th of the planets landmass.

The Sandrul were outraged as the moons location formed the tail end of the constellation depicting their god from the Sandrul homeworld further in system. An immediate holy war was declared and Sandrul forces flooded on to the moon to purge the sacrilege.

Most of the Sandrul military leadership believed the Hive to be nothing more than an invasive species of insects with no sense of tactics; but as the war went on it quickly became apparent that there was indeed a mind driving the Hive’s actions.

Several of the leadership class had accompanied the Hive ship and had been studying the Sandrul tactics through the eyes of their warrior classes. Once the examination was complete they began altering their tactics, using the religious zeal of the Sandrul against them and luring them into countless ambushes time and again.

With the war beginning to turn against them and with half the moon now in the Hive hands the Sandrul priests did the unthinkable and called on the galactic community for aid. Several species sent forces, though out of fear of the Hive spreading rather than any bonds of honor or friendship to the Sandrul.

The priests were adamant that no orbital attacks could be carried out on the holy world, much to the anger of the now coalition forces, and instead insisted in a conventional ground war with the growing hordes to drive them back.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Hive Wars: Day 503 “INCOMING!”

Tombo woke to shouts coming from all corners of the base and alarms calling out like the banshees of old.

Springing from his cot he grabbed his armor and weapon and exited his squads barracks block. All around coalition troops were sprinting back and forth like a swarm of ants. He watched them go by for a few moments before he heard the roar of gunfire and reflexively ducked. He looked to his left and saw one of the guard towers had opened up with its rotary cannons at something beyond the wall and was followed suit by troopers lining the wall itself and firing down.

Tombo’s squad came piling out after and nearly ran into his back before he side stepped out of the way. They were looking about dumbfounded as he had but now with the sound of weapons fire intensifying Tombo new what he must do.

“To the battlements!” he cried, raising his lightning staff he pointed to the wall where the other soldiers stood firing, “We must defend this place!”. His squad let out a cheer of holy creeds and followed him as he led the way.

The walls of the compound stood at nearly 12 meters into the air made of thick fabricated stone with a metal staircase built into the inside section. The walls surrounded all three miles of the base and landing pads like a giant circle and had not been attacked since it was established several weeks ago when the coalition forces arrived.

“Get out of the way!”

Tombo turned to see a human vehicle behind his squad with the driver leaning out and blaring their horn. Tombo’s face twisted in anger as he saw the driver. Not for his disrespect towards one of the Sun Flayer’s chosen, but because they were human filth. Allowing such heathens to set foot on this holy place burned Tombo with hatred as much as the deadly insects that had come to take it. Yet the priests had spoken and that they must endure their presence as decreed by the Sun Flayer’s will.

Tombo waved his squad to the side and they allowed the vehicle to speed passed them towards the wall. The back of the vehicle was open and he could see more human soldiers carrying their weapons and performing final checks.

They had just reached the stairway when the main gates crunched inwards with a horrific “THUNK”. Stopping at the stairway Tombo turned around to see that the tower guns had redirected themselves to firing at whatever was in front of the gate while more soldier atop the wall turned their fire.

Another loud impact reverberated Tombo and he felt a coming dread at what was about to happen. Quickly ordering his squad back they took up positions around the gate as more human soldiers arrived to join them. A third deafening impact struck home and the gates slowly cracked apart to reveal a massive eye just on the other side of the gate. Tombo’s squad ha deployed in a half circle around the gate just as the forth impact came and split the gate wide open. One of the gate doors flew backwards and Tombo had dodged within a hairs breath as it flew passed him and took two human soldiers face first.

Whatever had shattered the gate Tombo could not see as he turned his head back and saw a swarm of Hive warrior forms scuttling in through the wide gap, their jaw like pincers opening and closing hungrily as they rushed forward.

The human soldiers opened fire at once without waiting for a command from their commanders while the Sandrul waited for Tombo’s command.

“For the Sun Flayer!” he cried, leveling his lightning staff.

“May he shed the darkness from our life!” came the response as the warriors leveled their staffs as well and fired.

Bolts of pure energy shot out from the tip of each staff into the oncoming swarm. Were the energy struck it turned the flesh to ash in moments before proceeding through to the next victim and so on.

The constant fire from the lightning staffs tore the Hive warriors apart leaving deep gashes in their lines as they pressed onwards and when combined with the human ballistic weapons picking off the ones that got through the breach was safely contained.

Tombo had just begun to think that they would be alright when a mighty roar came from the other side of the wall. The ground began to shake with charging footsteps and the Hive parted like water to allow a massive form come plowing through.

A massive mound of flesh and armored exoskeleton came crashing into the left side of the base of the tower next to the gate. The structure began to wobble unsteadily and soon began toppling over on to the Hive warriors mewing about outside casting a massive dust cloud into the air. For a moment Tombo could feel the calmness of the battlefield as everything went silent before the sound of a thousand rushing feet took him back to the present.

Using the downed tower as a series of stepping stones, the leaping warriors of the Hive were able to scale upwards and on to the top of the wall while those on the ground used the widened breach to break the coalitions formation.

Before Tombo could shout to his squad to fall back the enemy were already lunging from the dust cloud with talons outstretched. Many were cut down where they stood in a heartbeat while others were able to get off one or two lightning staff shots before being taken down. The humans present fared little better as they emptied their weapons entire supply of ammunition in single bursts desperately trying hold back the onrushing tide only for them to jam or run empty in the midst of the storm of teeth and talon.

With the formation broken the Hive were now pushing deep into the base. Tombo now moved backwards while firing over and over again into the rushing mass. Those that were still alive formed around him and together they continued making a covered retreat.

Another deafening roar came and the monstrous creature pressed forward again through the throngs of warriors and came directly at Tombo. His lightning staff bots struck home against the creature but bounced off like pebbles leaving only burn marks. The creatures mouth spread wide open just as it was upon him when a blur of motion struck the beast and sent it sprawling back into the milling warriors splattering several with it’s weight.

Tombo turned to see three large mechanical suits striding passed him. Two carried large rotatory guns while the third carried a massive hammer of some kind. One of the rotary gun suits looked down at Tombo and motioned with their hand towards the innards of the base.

“Fall back to the secondary line, we’ll hold them here.”

Before Tombo could reply the two gun wielding suits opened fired while the third stomped forward.

Standing nearly twice the average humans height, the leading suit hefted it’s war hammer and brought it down hard in a sweeping arc into the rushing Hive warriors. The sheer force of the blow was enough to turn their bodies into stains on the great weapon. Tombo watched as a warrior leapt off rubble of the wall and lunged for the head unit of the hammer suit only to be casually caught with the suits right hand mid air. The warrior flailed about wildly trying to break free of the grip only to spasm as the hand tightened and crushed the warrior.

The two rotary suits had kept back from the melee and had been seeking to corner off the right and left flanks of the breach while the hammer wielding suit held the middle.

Just passed the seething mass of warriors Tombo saw the great monstrosity that had shattered the wall once more rising to its feet as the hammer suit came close. Billowing a mighty roar the form charged heedlessly through it’s own comrades to tackle the foe. The hammer suit brought the hammer upward this time and it struck just underneath the beasts jaw sending it violently backwards. It staggered but rallied quickly and then charged again. The suit had switched to a downwards arc now intent to shatter the creatures skull when at the last moment it halted its charge and the hammer smashed harmlessly into the ground in front of it.

Roaring the creature kicked out and snapped the hammers staff in two and charged again. Tombo thought the suit’s pilot would seek to distance itself while its compatriots gunned it down from a safe distance. Instead the suit spun the shattered staff in it’s hand with the broken end facing outwards and met the charge of the creature head on.

It’s massive jaws spread wide and bit deep into the armored plating of the suit and picked it up into the air like a rag doll. All around it Hive warriors were moving around the confrontation like water keeping the other two suits occupied enough and unable to come to their allies aide.

Tombo rallied what was left of his squad and attempted to fire on the beast but the Hive warriors were too thick around the battle for any of his shots to make it through.

The hammer suit, held deftly in place by the rows of pressurized teeth, grabbed hold of the creatures jaw to steady itself. With a swift motion that surprised Tombo for it’s brutality the suit drove the shatter shaft of the hammer it still held deep into one of the beasts eyes. It let out a roar of pure anger as the suit removed the shaft and drove it in again and again into the beasts eye socket. It flailed around insanely from the pain crushing several dozen of the surrounding Hive warriors as the suit finally drove the shaft deep into the socket and brought it’s clenched mechanical hand down like a hammer and drove the shaft through the creatures inner skull.

It roared again and it’s mouth finally eased enough for the suit to pull itself free just as the beast stumbled back into the breach it had created moments before and die.

The warriors halted their advance for a moment as the suit rose to it’s full height again, the teeth puncture wounds in the suit showing the mechanical innards. The gunners continued mowing down the dumbstruck warriors just as the Hive reorganized itself.

Somewhere far away from the front lines a hive leadership caste saw the suits as a more imminent danger and redirected the swarm to taking them out.

They rushed the now weaponless suit from all sides in their attempt to bring it down. Tombo watched in amazement as the suit, rather than retreat to it’s fellows, stood its ground and once more met the charge.

Raising its arms up it jabbed and punched like a whirlwind all around itself, each blow dealing a death blow. When a warrior dove for its feet it was grabbed by the throat and thrown backwards at full force leaving a bloody gash in the Hive ranks.

During the brief respite the suit bent down to the carcass of the monstrosity and with strained effort broke off one of the mouths protruding pincers. Hefting it like a club the suit pressed forward and swatted aside the rushing warrior forms.

A second warrior dove low under the suits guard mid swing and slashed out at the suits legs cutting several cables. Black fluid gushed out and the suit suddenly came crashing down to one knee. Rather than trying to rise again the suit continued swatting aside those that came too close until finally it’s compatriots stood by its side and laid down additional covering fire into the breach.

Tombo looked up to see additional suits now clearing the tops of the walls and stalking through the base picking off the isolated pockets of warriors that made it inside before being cutoff. Shortly there after the Hive forces began to cease their attacks and scuttled away out of range of the bases defenses.

Some time had passed when Tombo returned to the breached gate to still see the three suits that had fought alongside him still there. The two rotary gun suits had put down their weapons and were now grappling with the third. One was holding the suit from behind while the other was trying to pry open the front.

As Tombo approached he could hear the chatter of the pilots.

“The fraker did a number on you, that’s for sure.”

“Just open my damn cockpit already! I need help, not narration.”

With a screeching twisting of metal the third suit was finally able to rip open the cockpits hatch and reveal the pilot within.

The suit that had been holding from behind released their grip and came up front. “You alright sarge?” the pilot asked. Tombo saw the human inside stretching their arms and taking deep breaths of air before slowly rising to their feet and exiting the cockpit.

“I need a shower, a drink, and my bed; then I’ll tell you how I’m doing.”

The pilot drew a small knife from their jacket and began walking towards the pile of dead Hive warriors. “But first there’s something I gotta do.” The two suits nodded and together picked up the damage suit to carry it off back to the repair bays.

Tombo watched for a moment as the human pilot clamber up the mound of dead and begin shifting the corpses looking for something. They seemed undisturbed by the icors and smells of the Hive and continued searching for something. With a yell of triumph the human stopped moving bodies and sat down, his knife slowly carving into something.

Tombo was curious now and approached closer to the mound. He covered his nose as he came close and circled from behind to see what the pilot was cutting. To his surprise the human was carving a scale out of the creature that had attacked him earlier.

“Why do you defame the bodies of the dead?” Tombo asked without hesitation. The pilot’s response was simple and he didn’t even bother to look up from his task. “What does it look like? I’m taking a trophy.”

The honesty caught Tombo off guard as he had been expecting some lie or misdirection. “To sell and profit now doubt.” Tombo spoke as he reached under his cloack for his lightning staff. The pilot shook his head. “To remember and honor.”

Tombo stopped. “Why do you honor the dead, even more so when the dead were your enemies?”

“They wounded me.” The pilot began, “they left a scar not just in my body but in my mind that made me question if I was going to live or die. A foe like that is worth remembering, worth learning from.”

Strange as it sounded Tombo could relate to a degree as it was written in the book of the shinning one that even in death there is much to learn.

“During the battle,” Tombo asked as he took his hand back from his lightning staff, “why did you continue to fight the creature even when your weapon shattered? Would it have not been better to retreat?”

The pilot stopped for a moment and chuckled, as if the question amused him. With a final stab he pried the scale off the beast and held it in his hand. He casually stepped back over the dead and came before Tombo still admiring the scale.

“One can never be without a weapon, when they ARE the only weapon they’ll ever need.”

Without saying another word the pilot tilted his head and walked passed the Sandrul, humming a soft melody as he flipped the scale between his fingers over and over.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #mech suit

284 notes · View notes

blackwidow1203 · 4 years

Text

Loki theory So, in Thor Ragnarok we heard the Immigrant song playing in some scenes. The song fits perfectly, look at the text:

We come from the land of the ice and snow The Norse mythology comes from Scandinavia

From the midnight sun where the hot springs flow The hammer of the gods That's self-explanatory

Will drive our ships to new lands Asgard is destroyed, so they had to " drive their ships to new lands"

To fight the horde, sing and cry They fought hela in Asgard

Valhalla, I am coming That's also self-explanatory Everything they sing about in this song is true and happened in the movies, except the line with midnight sun. And who said in Infinity War, that the sun will shine on them again? Loki. And when does the midnight sun happens in Norway every year? From 11th June to 1st July. And when will the Loki series start? 11th June. Coincidence? I think not.

#marvel #the avengers #loki series #loki fandom #loki theory #mcu #avengers theory

7 notes · View notes

topworldhistory · 5 years

Link

Got history lovers on your list? Stock up here.

If your holiday shopping includes a history lover, HISTORY's editors have carefully chosen gifts and experiences for fans of any era. Whether it's tickets to see two former U.S. presidents in person or a set of the same teas American patriots dumped into Boston Harbor, there's history here to read, watch, listen, use, play and wear.

HISTORY recommends products our editors think you’ll like, and if you buy something through our links HISTORY may get a share of the revenue. Prices may fluctuate.

History by Mail

BUY HERE: Weekly Historic Letters, from $49.99 for 3 months, Letterjoy

Who doesn’t love getting a letter in the mail? Letterjoy sends your favorite history buff one historic letter weekly from figures like John Adams, Abraham Lincoln, Albert Einstein and Marie Curie, based on monthly themes. Each letter is carefully selected, researched and reproduced on fine stationery, paired with an expertly researched "postscript" that puts the letter in historical context. Plans range from one year for $159.99 ($13.33 per month) down to six months for $99.99 ($16.66 per month) or three months for $49.99 ($16.66 per month). Reduced rates available for educators’ in-classroom use.

Hear from Former U.S. Presidents in New York City

BUY HERE: HISTORYTalks ‘Leadership & Legacy’ Ticket, from $287, HISTORY

Be on hand for history-in-the-making at the inaugural HISTORYTalks event at Carnegie Hall in New York City, where prominent leaders and thinkers, notable historians and inspiring performances will offer reflections on the past—and informed insights for our future. This unforgettable day-long experience, focused on the topic of Leadership & Legacy, will culminate with an exclusive conversation between two former U.S. presidents, led by a Pulitzer Prize-winning historian. Don’t miss it.

Just in Time

BUY HERE: Chronology 20 Anniversary Edition, about $17, Amazon

Which came first—Isaac Newton’s telescope or Martin Luther’s 95 Theses? Test your knowledge of the past with this Chronology card game where players compete to put historical events in the correct chronological order; the first player to build a timeline of 10 cards wins. Recommended for 2 to 8 players, ages 14+. Includes 429 double-sided cards with 858 events. History is more fun with friends!

Go (History) Camping

BUY HERE: History Camp Gift Certificates, $100, History Camp

History Camp welcomes history lovers from all walks of life for a full day of talks on all eras and aspects of history. In 2020 History Camps will be held in six cities: Boston, MA, Holyoke, MA, Philadelphia, PA, Washington, D.C., Des Moines, IA, and Denver, CO. History Camp Gift Certificates are available for all locations and come with a limited-edition History Camp shirt, along with more information on the programs, so your gift recipient can select and register for the location of their choice. Also included: a gift certificate redeemable for merchandise from The History List Store.

Nerd Out

BUY HERE: History Nerd with WWII Paratrooper Crewneck Sweatshirt, $33.95, HISTORY Store

Every history lover, especially WWII buffs, will appreciate this unique History Nerd with WWII Paratrooper sweatshirt commemorating the 75th anniversary of D-Day. Picturing a World War II paratrooper, it also features a special hang tag with the “Orders of the Day” sent to the Allied troops on June 6, 1944 on one side, and a handwritten message from General Eisenhower on the other.

For an even more immersive gift, pair the sweatshirt with a World War II on the Homefront Poster, also $33.95, showing more than 100 WWII patriotic posters that hung in U.S. post offices, railroad stations, schools, restaurants and elsewhere, exhorting Americans to buy bonds, contribute to scrap drives and otherwise support the national war effort.

READ MORE: D-Day: How Allied Forces Overcame Disastrous Landings to Rout the Nazis

New Facts Daily

BUY HERE: This Day in History Box Calendars, about $15, Amazon

Learn something new every day with HISTORY's 2020 This Day in History box calendar, filled with 365 of history’s most influential and extraordinary events, inspiring people and inventions and facts any trivia buff will love.

Also available in This Day in Military History, This Day in Women’s History and–all new in 2020–Unexplained Mysteries for each day of the year.

READ MORE: Harriet Tubman

Walk with Greatness

BUY HERE: American leaders socks, about $12 for a pack of four, Amazon

What to get the guy—or gal—with a truly historic sense of style? Cool history-themed socks sporting images of George Washington, John F. Kennedy, Abe Lincoln and Ben Franklin. The colorful unisex footwear guarantees the wearer will always be in inspired company.

from Stories - HISTORY https://ift.tt/2OJb5oH November 26, 2019 at 05:29AM

#Worldhistory

0 notes

screechthewriter · 6 months

Text

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

part 4/6:

Anything could go wrong when you left home. Atreus had experienced that over and over. Sometimes, it felt like every time he and Dad left the house for a simple trip, things went sideways. War only made that worse, because they were deliberately running towards trouble, and any plans could fall apart if someone sneezed too hard. Atreus actively tried not to expect anything from a mission, good or bad.

But even this was beyond what he’d expected.

They had to unexpectedly bail out, which meant when Atreus hit the ground, he was nowhere near the drop zone. Not only that, but the door wasn’t coming off his drop pod. Atreus had never liked those things, but he didn’t want that dislike justified like this. He was able to get free of his restraints, but struggled with the door. A robot voice in the background droned on and on about his heart rate. “I know, Siri,” Atreus snapped. “I’m a little…” He settled back against his seat and rested both feet against the door. “…stressed at the moment…!”

He had been trying to avoid cutting loose and using his powers to their full extent, troll incident aside. But there was no way he was going to die stuck in this damn drop pod. Atreus took a deep breath and pushed. Metal creaked, groaned, and…

Crack.

The door popped off its hinges, letting Atreus push his way free. Unfortunately, he stepped out into absolute mayhem.

“…isn’t the drop zone…”

“Just stay together…!”

“Do we have any pilots in the area?!”

Atreus looked around. No sign of Cooper. “Jack?” Atreus called. “Jack?!”

A bullet whistling past his head forced him to duck. Atreus immediately reached into the pod for his bow. Still intact, all the arrows there. Hemlock with a decent amount of ammo, Kraber with less ammo, couple of grenades, two hand axes strapped to his leg.

He could make it work.

Atreus started with the bow, taking careful aim at the closest Reaper. His bow hadn't held any Light energy in years, decades even, but Sindri's dragon tooth trick still held. It was really useful against mechanical enemies that liked to group up. The lightning arcing between Reapers was almost hypnotic, but he didn't have time to appreciate the splendor of good old fashioned Dwarven magic craft. He had to get to the others. Fortunately, the short-circuiting gave him the cover he needed to dart away from his pod and to his fellow Militia members. "Have you seen Private Cooper?" he asked.

"Good luck finding anyone out here," replied the sergeant. It seemed like he was the highest ranking person out there. "I don't even know where we're regrouping."

Awesome.

Atreus swapped out the bow for the Kraber, wanting to preserve as many arrows as he could for as long as possible. Just hold them back. Hold them back until you're told otherwise.

If you knew where you hit, Reaper's heads came off pretty easily. He counted his shots as he went. Six shots with the extended magazine. Crack. One. Crack. Two. Crack. Third shot hit the chest, but that was fine; .50 caliber ammo punched a hole through a lot of things, Reapers included.

Crack. Four. At least Reapers didn't feel pain.

Crack. Five. He couldn't say the same thing about humans, so...

Crack. Six. Make sure you do it the first shot. Even from this distance, he could practically taste the blood in the air.

Or maybe that was from someone on his side. Hard to tell in all this chaos.

"Reloading," he said instinctively, ducking back behind cover. He'd switch to the Hemlock once he took out the last handful of long-distance threats...he’d have to keep an eye out for the heavy sniper ammo, he could only carry so much at a time...his mind was racing, the familiarity of combat clashing with the sheer amount of variables a war like this threw at him.

At least it’s not a dragon, he thought a tiny bit hysterically.

There were three more long-distance targets; he took them out in quick succession before switching to the Hemlock. Fewer shots in the clip than the Flatline, but it being semi-automatic removed the urge to just keep a finger on the trigger. If you can’t do it in one or two shots, don’t do it at all. Only as much force as necessary. The thought echoed in his head after each three-shot burst. Only as much force as necessary.

Only as much force as necessary.

Only –

“C’mon!”

Atreus snapped out of it. They’d thinned out the IMC forces there. Time to run. He took off after the others, scanning their surroundings, only letting his gaze linger on any dead Militia long enough to confirm…

Then again, it was difficult to tell people apart when they were lying dead in the mud like that.

Funny; dead bodies never really bothered him before. He'd seen so many of them growing up in his little part of the world, the realm he still thought of as Midgard even though it had been divided up into countries with new names and evolving cultures (Denmark, Sweden, Norway). People died, all the time, and with the Desolation sweeping through, there wasn't really anyone to bury them. But now? The same sight, or a similar enough sight, chilled him.

Maybe it was because they were freshly dead, some not even visibly injured, looking as if they could stand up and walk away any second now.

Maybe it was because, back then, he hadn't been scanning the faces for any sign of a friend.

Atreus shook the thought off and kept moving.

The sergeant was still trying to figure out where in the hell they were supposed to meet up, leaving the rest of the grunts to follow and keep their heads on a swivel. Atreus didn't realize he'd put away the Hemlock and drawn one of his axes until one of the others pointed it out. "It's meant to be thrown," Atreus noted absentmindedly. He was trying to listen--not just for footsteps, but to any creatures that came through. Most of the local fauna had fled, save for a handful of predators and scavengers who saw the chance for easy pickings, but what was left could give him an advance warning of approaching threats. "Don't worry, my aim is pretty good."

"...they spring you out of a nut house to get you to join, Kokinos?"

Atreus forced a laugh. "Nah, I'm just built different." Definitely never heard that before, definitely doesn’t feel hurtful…

A whisper made its way across the breeze—smaller creatures running through the underbrush, ears twitching, talking about the incoming two-legged creatures. Atreus froze and listened harder. The creatures (whatever they were) didn’t have the best eyesight, so determining whose side those two-leggeds were on wasn’t easy…

“Kokinos?”

“Shh.”

They were coming from the southwest, and moving pretty quickly. Atreus tried to hear them instead, but even with his senses being a bit heightened compared to his fellows, there was too much background noise. But…

“Incoming. Southwest.”

No one questioned it, fortunately. They were too hyped up and worried about getting ambushed to ask questions. Atreus didn’t draw his Hemlock; he kept the axe in his hand, feeling the grip going cold under his fingers. He was usually wary about using the axes to their full potential—it was a lot harder to answer for than the bow—but today, it felt like a matter of life or death.

Breathe. Breathe. No more force than necessary. No more…

The first of the figures emerged from the underbrush. IMC. Definitely IMC.

"Shit - !"

Saying that he blacked out wouldn't be accurate. But there was a bit of a gap between his fellows noticing those were IMC and oh, one of my axes is in that guy's face that Atreus couldn't account for. The only thing that stopped him from bull-rushing them was the awareness that he’d just get caught in the crossfire if he did. He did draw his second axe, but only to throw it into someone who had gotten a bit too close. He drew his Hemlock next. Dropped one. Dropped another.

Silence settled over the forest. Atreus could hear the raspy gurgles of someone’s last breaths. His second axe had hit someone in the neck; by the time he reached them, they were gone.

“Shit,” muttered another rifleman. He was standing next to the first person to get the axe, staring at it with barely-contained shock in his eyes. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

Atreus shrugged and pulled the second axe free. “Don’t worry. I avoid friendly fire.” He walked to the first person to fall, and pulled the axe free from his face. He saw the other Rifleman flinch visibly. “We should keep moving. There’ll probably be more coming.”

No one argued the point.

You are in your head, boy, said Father’s voice in his head as they kept moving.

I know, Atreus thought back, despite himself. It wasn't guilt over having killed someone, not like it had been the first time he heard Father say that. He'd gotten used to self-defense killing a long time ago. He had even more or less gotten used to warfare. But something about today…

It was the danger of it all. The taste of blood in the air. Fear for a friend, and the things that fear could drive someone to do. It lit something in his spirit that didn't usually come out. He wasn't his father, but he was his father's son, and even if their "domains" so to speak had very little overlap, even if they weren't the gods they had once thought…

The union of lightning and summer leaves was fire. And oh, how Loki burned sometimes.

But he couldn’t do that, because he had promised to be better, and he wasn’t looking to show the whole world what he was. So he tried to breathe.

Tried to swallow it back.

It was harder than he thought it would be.

Eventually, they met up with another group and stopped to figure things out. Or, at least, to let the officers figure it out. Atreus normally would’ve butted in, but he was still feeling in his head and just didn’t have it in him to try and argue with officers. Instead, he focused on finding good branches for arrows. They wouldn’t be perfect, but something told him he was going to need more. Ammo was running low in general, and he definitely wanted to save the Kraber shots for emergencies.

Back to basics, he thought as he examined a branch. At least the trees out here are strong. It almost reminded him of home. Familiar but not all at once. A lot of forests felt the same, to be fair. Trees were trees, predators were predators, prey were prey. War was war.

I wish Dad were here.

"Have any of you seen Private Cooper?" he asked one of the other Rifleman from the second group.

"No, sorry," said the Rifleman. "I think they're trying to get a roster of who's still kicking but communications are scrambled, pretty much anything further than medium range risks getting intercepted...you know how it is."

"Yeah." FUBAR, he was pretty sure the acronym was. He'd say SNAFU, but there was too much fucked up and not enough situation normal for that one. “So I take it you don’t know what we’re going to do?”

“Follow Sarge and hope we find someone who knows what’s going on?”

Great.

That wasn’t something Atreus would usually be on board with, but it also seemed like his best bet for finding Cooper. This was a decently sized planet, and as good a tracker as he was, he had nothing to work with. All he could do was hope this whole mess worked itself out.

Just stay alive, Jack. I’m coming for you. I promise. While he was at it, he sent a brief plea to his ancestors. I know he isn’t one of us, but whatever help you can spare him, please…

At least he knew Mom would probably listen. He hadn’t been lying when he told Cooper she’d like him.

Unfortunately, the day did not improve. It was just a lot of running, dodging and weaving, avoiding the IMC and eventually linking up with another larger group. Atreus wasn’t sure what was going on, especially not when news of a superweapon hit. He only knew that he still hadn’t seen Jack. Had no news of him. The anxiety over his missing friend made him feel like he was going to vibrate, and the sights and sounds of war didn’t help.

In short, by the time he and the other grunts were pulled off the planet, it had gone from a long day to one of the longest days of his very long life. And the fact that it ended with half the planet being blown up only made things worse.

But then...

“Kokinos, you’re not gonna fucking believe this.”

Saying that he didn’t believe it would be a stretch. What Atreus was told as the other Rifleman led him back to the hanger bay sounded like things Cooper was capable of handling. But it was also a series of absolutely insane events that would normally never happen to a guy like him. If Atreus’s day had been long, Cooper’s must have lasted lifetimes.

And yet there he was, standing in the hanger, surrounded by people congratulating him, wearing all the gear of a pilot, and very much alive.

Atreus was so fixated on the fact that Cooper had lived, that he hadn’t lost the one friend he’d managed to make in this whole mess, that he almost missed the look on Cooper’s face. When he did notice, it felt like his heart stopped again, for completely different reasons. There was a smile on Cooper's face, sure, but it was fake, plastered there by panic. His hands were clutching the straps of his gear, the white-knuckle grip hidden by gloves, and he flinched every time someone got too close.

Oh, no, I have to get him out of here.

"Well, shit, he lives!" Pushing to the front of the crowd was easy; benefits of usually being the tallest person in the room. "Damn good to see you, buddy!"

Atreus already suspected it was bad. He knew it was worse than that when Cooper didn't reply. He just stared with that same wide, frantic look in his eyes. "Hey, listen, guys, I know he's the big man on board right now, but why don't we give him some air, huh?" Atreus hated touching Cooper right then, but he had to if he wanted to get them out. He kept it low contact--one hand on the shoulder, grip not too firm, only the gentlest of pushes to get him through the crowd. "He probably hasn't even slept since we dropped."

No one questioned him or tried to stop him, outside of a few people giving final congratulations as they walked past. Atreus waited until they were free of the crowd before he started speed-walking, whispering a single word—Falið, hidden—to try and keep them out of everyone's perceptions. "Just hold it together for a minute, okay?" he added to Cooper. "I'm getting you out of here."

"...hmm." Cooper had stopped smiling. Now he really looked like he was going to claw his skin off. "Yeah."

To his credit, Cooper kept it together until they were alone. "Okay, what do you need?" Atreus stood in front of Cooper and held out both hands. "We can do yes or no questions if you're not…"

Cooper started sobbing.

Oh, shit. It was bad, then. Atreus reigned in his urge to hug, not sure if that would set Cooper off worse, instead sitting down next to his friend as he sank to the ground curled up on himself, body shaking with sobs. “I’m here,” Atreus said quietly. “I’m here.”

Cooper leaned against him, but said nothing.

It was then, as they sat there in an isolated corner of the ship, that the real weight of the day hit him. The realization of how bad things had gone. How many people had died today? How many deaths could have been avoided, if the IMC had just been willing to negotiate instead of being trapped by their greed? It’s not fair, he thought. That was the same thought that had made him join the Militia in the first place. This time, though, it weighed on him with sorrow and pain, not anger.

War is never fair, boy, replied the memory of his father’s voice.

Atreus had thought he understood, but he was starting to realize, once again, how little he actually understood.

Eventually, Cooper’s sobs calmed down, replaced by a heavy silence. Eventually Cooper spoke, his voice dull and thick with tears. “Lastimosa’s gone.”

Oh. “I’m sorry,” Atreus said quietly.

He had a feeling there was more to it than that, but he wasn’t going to push things. If that was all Cooper had the energy to say, that was all he had the energy to say. Atreus could wait to hear the whole story. And, on a purely selfish level, he wasn’t sure how much heartbreak he could face today.

Atreus let Cooper hold onto his arm. As they sat together, Atreus started humming quietly, the same tune his mother used to hum to him whenever he was sick and couldn’t sleep. He tried to imagine her sitting there with them both, her presence gentle and soothing.

He prayed for the strength to help his friend, and the strength to make it through himself.

Atreus learned the rest of what happened slowly--about Captain Lastimosa and BT-7274, about the field promotion, the struggles and terror that came after, losing both of them within such a short time span. "I'd be screwed if you were gone, too," Cooper finished dully. They were waiting in the med bay for some test results to come back. Cooper had refused to go in there without Atreus, and Atreus wouldn't have let him go in alone anyway. "Seriously. You're not allowed to die now."

"Right back at you." Atreus didn't know he could feel so exhausted. He could only imagine how much worse it was for Cooper. "I'm sorry…"

Cooper shook his head. "Not your fault. Nothing you could've done." After some hesitation, he added, "I mean...that makes it kind of worse, though, I guess."

Atreus knew what he meant. Helplessness could cut deeper than failure. He'd felt it before. At least most of the time when you failed, you could reassure yourself that you'd done your best. That you'd tried, and had some level of control in the situation. It did occur to him that Cooper may have been wrong--that maybe there was something Atreiis could have done, had he just been there--but there had been so many things beyond his control in the lead-up. Things he couldn't have predicted or averted.

Still. It was the damn troll all over again.

"Is the SRS keeping you on?" Atreus asked, trying to distract the both of them. "It's the least they could do after you saved everyone's asses."

"I think so. I just don't know if…" Cooper hesitated, then rubbed his eyes. "I don't know if I want another Titan. I don't know if I can...not after…"

Atreus nodded sympathetically. He might not have understood completely what Cooper was going through, but he could grasp the sentiment. At the very least, he knew a thing or two about loss himself. “I get it. He was your partner. That’s going to take time. I’m sure they’ll respect that.”

Cooper rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I think so. We’re going back to Harmony, last I heard. Maybe...maybe I’ll be okay with it later.” He didn’t sound sure of that—more like he was trying to convince himself. “Looking forward to getting some real sleep.”

“Me, too.” Sleep on a planet, too. Atreus had never been to Harmony. He and Dad just tended to stick to less established planets, places like the Outlands or its borders. The kind of places here people weren’t really looking for guys like them.

Honestly, Atreus kind of missed the isolation. Hopefully Harmony had some areas that weren’t so developed.

“Jack Cooper?”

Cooper looked up, then looked at Atreus. Atreus gave him an encouraging smile. “I’ll wait right here for you,” he promised. “And we can get some sleep afterwards, yeah?”

Atreus waited until Cooper was out of sight before he let the smile drop and leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands, still deeply exhausted. He was starting to get how his father--a veritable mountain of a man, the unbeatable and unkillable “god of war”--could look so tired all the time. He missed him. More than anything, he missed his dad.

You'd know what to do if you were here.

So would Mimir. So would Mom. At least with them he'd lost them due to circumstances beyond his control. With Dad...he'd chosen to walk away. Sure, he’d every intention of getting back in contact, eventually, but one thing lead to another and Dad moved on from where they'd been living before (probably because of the war)…

Now he was alone. His fault.

Atreus forced himself to take a deep breath. His chest was starting to feel tight. He knew that feeling and he knew it could only make things worse. He had to be present, for Cooper if not for his own mental health. Not stuck in his own head and beating himself up.

He breathed slowly. He tried to stay calm.

He waited.

Cooper, fortunately, wasn’t gone too long. He didn’t look worse when he came back to the waiting room; between that and the little thumb’s up he gave, Atreus assumed that he wasn’t about to drop dead any time soon. “Don’t suppose you can get me out of here without us running into too many people?” Cooper said. “I know they’ll probably want me to do a briefing at some point, but…”

“Way ahead of you.” Atreus could just coast by on magic alone, but that would raise too many questions. So, he stuck to the lesser-known parts of the ship, as many side hallways as he could, with only a little sparkling of magic to help keep them really out of everyone’s eyes. Wasn’t too long before they were back in the sleeping quarters. Fortunately, they’d been able to get a room together when they transferred onto the ship; meant that they didn’t have to worry about someone random hanging out in the room.

Then again, if Cooper had a room mate who wasn’t Atreus, he could’ve been dead by now.

Cooper immediately sat down on his bed, slouched in a way that said that getting his gear off might not happen. Atreus barely managed to get his own shoes and gear off before climbing into the top bunk. “If anyone calls me, I’m not here,” Cooper muttered. “The Ark sent me to another dimension, where I’m napping.”

Atreus laughed quietly. “No one’s getting through that door. I don’t care if it’s Graves himself. Sleep, okay? You need it.”

“Hmm.”

Eventually, Atreus heard the sound of boots and heavy gear hitting the floor. Cooper’s breathing went quiet and steady not long after.

Atreus thought he would fall asleep quickly himself, but he didn’t. He lay in his bunk, staring up at the ceiling for far too long. Eventually, he quietly climbed back down the bed to grab his knife. The knife his father gave him.

I wish you were here.

It was only when the knife was with him, within reach, that Atreus was finally able to fall asleep.

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

1 note · View note

screechthewriter · 6 months

Text

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

part 5/6:

Harmony was beautiful, but he was having a hard time appreciating it.

Cooper wasn’t even sure you could entirely call it PTSD, or a depressive spell. It could’ve partially been that, to be sure, but it was also just...the sheer amount of stuff going on. His field promotion. Having to move between departments. All the paperwork. The weight of what had nearly happened to Harmony, what would have happened if he hadn’t...

If BT hadn’t...

Cooper spent as much time as possible away from the eyes of his colleagues, away from the SRS, away from everyone. Everyone except Atreus, the one person who didn’t seem to expect anything from him. He didn’t even directly pry about Cooper’s mental health.

Indirectly, though...

“So, you know there are studies that say being out in nature is good for you?”

Cooper glanced over his shoulder. Atreus was standing in the doorway of their shared room, looking...surprisingly different out of his military wear. Granted, he was still wearing a lot of green, but the golden-yellow t-shirt was new. “Is this your way of telling me to get my ass out of bed?” Cooper asked.

“Well, yeah, that and I don’t want to go for a walk alone. Humor me?”

He had a point. And it wasn’t like Cooper hated being outside, as long as it wasn’t too crowded, too full of people. Being alone in nature—alone-ish, with Atreus there—was definitely preferable to being in his room.

It was probably a good sign he still felt that way.

“Okay, okay, I’m getting up.”

It wasn’t long before they were out in a nearby nature preserve. Harmony had a lot of those. At first, they just walked in silence. Cooper let his eyes dart from plant to plant, trying to identify any of them, thinking about how much his mom would enjoy this place. Eventually, the silence felt safe enough that a question slipped out.

“You’d get me help if you thought I needed it, right?” Cooper asked. The question felt easier when he was staring at the other man’s back instead of talking face to face.

Atreus glanced over his shoulder, only for a second. “Is this you giving me permission...?”

Cooper thought about the weight in his chest, the exhaustion that seemed to follow his every step, the way sometimes he swore he saw his helmet visor flicker out of the corner of his eye. “...yeah.”

“Then yes. Definitely.” Atreus stopped suddenly and took a deep breath. “I almost forgot what plants smell like. Nice thing about a preserve is we probably won’t run into anyone living out here.”

“Did that happen to you a lot?”

“Yes, but I was the person being run into. I’m probably a cryptid out on a planet or two.” Atreus laughed. “Imagine wandering out into the forest for a nice walk and seeing some dude with a bow collecting mushrooms and dragging the day’s catch. That was me.”

The mental image made Cooper snort quietly. He liked Atreus, he was used to the guy, but even then he could see how he was a bit...cryptid-like. “Probably doesn’t help that you need a bell on your ankle for people to keep track of you,” Cooper noticed.

“Oh, yeah. And I was going barefoot sometimes, too.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I’m like a duck. No nerves in my feet. You grew up on a farm, right? You know the pleasures of being out in nature. Barefoot in the dirt, not a care in the world.”

“Yeah.” Cooper closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. It did smell nice out there, green and alive with a hint of petrichor after the previous night’s rainfall. But...

It wasn’t the fields he remembered from home. And suddenly, he deeply missed that place.

A careful hand on his shoulder drew him back to the present, when Cooper opened his eyes, Atreus stood at his side. He didn’t say anything, but from the look on his face...he knew. He understood.

There weren’t too many people Cooper could confidently say he could read like that.

He was happy he still had one left.

Atreus, despite his Schrödinger’s godhood, had a complicated relationship with the supernatural.

It all fell into four categories for him: can confirm, can deny (this was a shockingly small category), cannot confirm (not the same thing as can deny), and plausible but not in the way everyone else thinks. Ghosts fell into that last category. He knew, to a degree, that the soul existed, that it went someplace else after death, that it could interact with the living. It was all the particulars that got messy. Sure, he’d been to Helheim, but he also personally knew a whole slew of death and afterlife “gods” who couldn’t figure out who had jurisdiction of whom, why, and how.

(Dad’s soul was especially contentious. Even he had to admit it was pretty funny).

This meant Atreus had no idea where the late Captain Tai Lastimosa’s soul had ended up. But he was completely willing to believe it was haunting Cooper’s helmet.

Either that or the thing was glitching, but Atreus had checked. The visor’s flickering was too regular to be a glitch. There was definitely a pattern to it..not morse code, but something. Cooper was out, so Atreus couldn’t ask him about it. Even If he were in, what was Atreus going to say? Hey, buddy, call me crazy, but is the helmet previously owned by your dead mentor haunted or something?

No. Better to figure this out on his own.

Atreus leaned over so he was making “eye” contact with the helmet. “...anyone in there?” he asked awkwardly. The helmet flickered again. Same pattern. “Is there any way you can like...blink once for yes, twice for no?” he tried. Now he was starting to wish he’d paid more attention to what the spiritualists were actually up to instead of just pranking them on and off. Maybe they had been onto something. “I don’t want to go to Cooper without evi-“

Was it just him, or did the flickering get more insistent?

“If there’s something you want me to tell him, you’re gonna have to say it in words I can understand,” Atreus said patiently. “I don’t know what you’re saying.”

Oh, yeah, the flickering was definitely getting faster. Same pattern still. Could the ghost or spirit not communicate any other way? Atreus had heard stories about that kind of thing: ghosts trapped in perpetual cycles, unable to break free. It had always seemed so sad. Even more so now that it involved a friend of his.

“There’s got to be something else I can try,” Atreus muttered. He straightened back up. The plan had been to pace around the room a bit, see if the movement helped him think. But when he turned around...there was Cooper. Standing in the doorway. Staring.

Not the weirdest thing he could’ve walked in on me doing, but uhhh, still bad.

“...I can explain,” Atreus said awkwardly.

“You see it, too?” Cooper said, his voice dripping with relief.

Oh. Okay. That definitely changed things.

“It’s a repeating pattern,” Atreus said as he carefully turned over the helmet in his hands, “It blinked faster when I mentioned you, but the pattern never changed. I don’t recognize it at all, so...” He shrugged. “That’s all I’ve got right now. Sorry.”

“Honestly?” Cooper said. “I’m just relieved I’m not losing it.” Because he really thought he had been. If Atreus saw it, as insane as everyone joked about him being, there was no way it was all in his head. “So...what do you think we should do?”’

“Call a priest? Joking. Okay, 25% joking.” Atreus started pacing again. “Do you know anyone who’s good with codes and might be willing to hear you out? Or accept half the story without asking questions?”

No, was Cooper’s first thought. Atreus was his only real friend at the moment, if he was being honest. But when he thought about it a second longer... “I think...yeah, the 6-4 is still in town,” Cooper said. “They seem to like me. One of them might be able to help.”

“And they’re outside the chain of command, so no one has to know. Good thinking.” Atreus grinned and held the helmet out to Cooper. “Bringing this? Or do you want to just write it down?”

They did both, in the end, which worked out. The helmet had gone quiet by the time they found anyone from the 6-4. It was weird seeing them without their helmets and jump gear. Davis, as it turned out, was Korean the whole time. “Oh, you’ll want Droz for this,” Davis said, examining the paper they’d written the pattern on. “He’s our resident code enthusiast. Hey, Droz!” Davis waved to catch the attention of a dark-skinned, curly-haired man dressed in a standard jumpsuit. “Got something weird for you!”

Droz jogged over. “What’s up?”

“Cooper got some weird code in his helmet that he can’t figure out. Thoughts?”

Droz took the paper, eyes skimming over the dots and dashes Cooper had used to transcribe the helmet’s flickering. “I think it’s binary. It’s gibberish if you try to do it as morse, but if I made these ones and zeroes, maybe...” He pulled a pen out of one of his pockets, pressed the page against Davis’s shoulder, and started writing. This must have happened a lot, because Davis didn’t protest at all. After a bit of scribbling and muttering to himself...

“It’s just saying Jack over and over,” Droz said, passing the paper back to Cooper. “Recognizing the new owner, maybe?”

For a split second, Cooper wondered if Atreus had been right about the thing being haunted. But...no, Lastimosa never called him Jack. Only Cooper. So why...

The memory slammed into him like a Ronin sword.

Copy of my AI.

“You okay?” Atreus asked. “You look a little...”

Cooper ran. He didn’t register the confused shouts of the others. Only one thought stuck.

He’s alive.

He’s still in there.

BT was still alive.

“Jack!” Atreus caught up to Cooper pretty quickly, but didn’t try to stop him. That’d probably just freak him out worse. “What’s going on?”

“He’s in the helmet,” Cooper replied. A second glance confirmed that freaked wasn’t entirely right. He was a little freaked, but there was too much single-minded resolve in his eyes for this to be an about to have a meltdown kind of deal. “BT. He’s in the helmet.”

“Your Titan? Why do you figure?”

“He copied part of his AI into my helmet because...I think that’s classified. But he did, so maybe...maybe that’s enough?”

...shit. So I was half right. “Can’t hurt to ask,” Atreus said. “Do you want me to come with?”

“Please? This might catch up to me any second now.”

So, stand by and step in if he needs a social buffer. Got it.

There were a few people who looked confused that a rifleman was in the typically SRS-only part of the base, but no one tried to stop him. Eventually, they burst into what looked like some kind of R&D lab. Atreus had to fight the urge to be nosy. It was his knee-jerk impulse in places he wasn’t allowed. “Pilot Cooper?” said one of the confused-looking scientists.

“I think BT is in my helmet,” Cooper blurted.

If that didn’t get their attention, Cooper’s explanation did. Soon, the entire room was swarmed around Cooper and the helmet. One woman seemed especially interested; she was the one to take Cooper’s helmet to a computer. “She in charge?” Atreus guessed.

Cooper nodded, watching the scientists with worried eyes. “She oversaw BT’s creation personally. Her and Lastimosa were close.”

That explained the look in her eyes. She kept it together, but they had the same desperation Cooper’s did. Maybe I can save him. Maybe I can bring him back.

That Titan really meant a lot to people. Atreus hadn’t realized how much.

The longer the helmet was poked and prodded, the more anxious Cooper looked. Atreus almost asked if he wanted to get out of there, but he had a feeling that would make it worse. "You look jittery," Atreus whispered. "Thoughts on fixing that?"

"Uhm." Cooper considered it, then shook his head. “I just need answers. I’ll be okay...” He sat down suddenly, wrapping his arms around himself and leaning forward. “...I just want to know.”

Not much I can do about that. I mean, I can, but I’ll probably get in trouble for using time magic. If the Vanir didn’t get him, the natural flow of the universe would, somehow. It caught up with everyone, one way or another. Atreus sat down next to him. “So, when they’re able to put him back together,” he said, “I get to meet him, right? I know I’m probably not allowed in the Titan bays, but...”

“When has that ever stopped you?”

“I was gonna say I’m sure you could get me in, but yeah, that too.”

Cooper laughed weakly. “Of course I will. You two are like the only friends I have.” Titan and a pseudo-god. You really know how to pick ‘em, buddy. Or how to get in situations where they pick you. “He’s great. I know that might be weird to say about a Titan, but...”

“Pilot?”

Cooper bolted upright. One of the scientists jogged over. “We think there’s enough of the code to make a reconstruction,” said the man, a bit breathless from either the jog or excitement. “I can’t promise it will be perfect, there may be some holes in his memory, but...if all goes well...”

“He’ll be okay?” Cooper said quietly. Almost afraid. Atreus understood: the news was too good. There was no way the universe was that kind. Not after it had taken so much from him recently.

But sometimes life was kind. Sometimes it was even kind when you needed it the most.

“He should be okay,” confirmed the scientist.

The man was called away almost immediately after dropping that bombshell. It was probably for the best; Cooper wasn’t able to keep it together after that. He buried his face in his hands, body shaking with barely-suppressed sobs. Atreus carefully squeezed the other man’s shoulder, but stayed silent otherwise. It’d be better to let the emotions run their course, he knew. Especially since these were happy ones. Overwhelming, sure, but happy.

It’s okay, he thought. It’s going to be okay now.

It took them a few weeks, but eventually Atreus got the two word text he’d been waiting for.

He’s back!!!!

The initial reunion was in private, which Atreus had expected. He was a little surprised that his introduction happened the same day. “It’s just,” Cooper explained, “I don’t know if they’ll want to deploy me again now that he’s back, and I really do want you two to meet…”

“Hey, no explanation needed,” Atreus said reassuringly. “I’m happy to meet the guy. Really. Uh, is there anything I should know…?” He’d never interacted with a Titan before, much less a Vanguard. He’d heard they were quirky but wasn’t really sure what to expect from that.

“BT’s…a little literal-minded, so just talk to him like you would me? Other than that, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Cooper was a lot more energetic lately. This whole thing had done wonders for his mood. “I mentioned you to him back on Typhon, so don’t be surprised if he brings that up.”

“You did?”

“Well…yeah, I was worried about you.”

Oh, right. People worried about him for normal human reasons. Though, knowing Cooper, he probably would’ve worried even if he’d known the full truth. “Fair enough.”

Again, Atreus found himself fighting the urge to be nosy as they made their way through the titan hanger. BT was being kept in the back, away from prying eyes, and the walk to get to him went past a lot of stuff Atreus wouldn’t normally get the chance to see. Focus. You’re here for Jack.

BT provided enough of a distraction to keep Atreus’s nosiness in check. He was twice as tall as Atreus, maybe a bit more than that, with paint that was far too pristine for a three year old Titan.

New body, Atreus reminded himself. I wonder what that feels like?

Cooper didn’t need to say anything; the Titan’s one eye fixed on them immediately. Atreus was a little taken aback by how expressive the Titan was. This wasn’t the chipper, exaggerated cheer of a MRVN, or the lack of anything that Specters and other IMC war machines had. The Titan’s body language–the widening and dilation of his one eye, subtle hand movements, even some subtle (not so subtle due to size) movements in the shoulders–reminded Atreus of the few simulacrums he’d met. The bodies were robotic, sure, but you always knew whatever was pulling the strings wasn’t. Or, in this case, that it had developed far past its base programming.

“Hey, buddy,” Cooper said. “This is the friend I told you about.”

BT’s eye drifted to Cooper. “Arthur Kokinos,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “I am glad you see you are not dead.”

He sounded like he meant it, too. Even if the Titan was likely mostly glad for Cooper’s sake, it was…kind of touching.

“Thanks,” Atreus said with a smile. “Glad to see you’re not dead, either.”

They may not have known each other for long, but…yeah. BT seemed all right.

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

0 notes

screechthewriter · 6 months

Text

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

part 3/6:

He couldn't keep much from Atreus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Captain, sir,” Cooper said.

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

“Who?”

“The pilot, the guy you saved!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Psst!"

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

"Falið," Atreus breathed.

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can't tell anyone."

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

"It's not that impressive."

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

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

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

“Thanks, buddy.”

It was good to hear. It really was.

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

Having everything back to normal felt good.

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

0 notes

screechthewriter · 6 months

Text

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

part 2/6:

The air smelled of blood. Human, troll, a bit of mortal-deity-giant thrown into the mix. It was a smell Atreus was way too familiar with, albeit not usually in that combination.

How did a troll get here?

He hadn’t seen one in years. Centuries. So long that the memory was hard to grasp, even for him.

How did a deer get here?

Seeing the creature had flooded him with memories—cold air, snow just starting to dust the ground, a careful hand positioning his elbow, another, much heavier hand hovering at his back. Do not think of it as an animal. It is only…

Cooper coughed weakly. Atreus adjusted his grip and walked faster.

He’d been different then. Younger, for sure, happier, eventually. The Fimbulwinter had been long and hard and he’d missed Mother with every second he was conscious, but even the threat of Ragnarok hanging over his head and the weight of loss on his shoulders hadn’t been enough to sour all of it. It could never take away Mimir’s stories, the chorus of Brok and Sindri’s tools (and Brok and Sindri’s bickering), the World Serpent gently winding his way through mountains, old libraries unearthed for the first time in centuries, squinting at the words they contained by candlelight until the book was gently removed from his hands and a rough voice told him he needed to rest…

Finally feeling close to Father.

All things he’d lost, though slowly, over a long period of time, one after another, until it was just him and a bow and the war that had been the last straw. And just when he was starting to get something resembling that happiness back, a stupid troll had to go and ruin it…

He’s not dead yet. Keep walking.

Mortals were so fragile. Atreus had almost forgotten, because he hadn’t been close to that many. Not in a long time. He hadn’t even meant to get close to anyone here, but...

Well, here he was.

Cooper mumbled something. It took Atreus a second to register what: Didn’t even catch anything. He was right. All this blood and they didn’t even have anything to show for it. (Unless the camp was willing to eat troll, and there was no way Atreus was going to actively recommend that. Once had been more than enough for him.) I should’ve gone alone. I could’ve handled myself alone. This is my fault…

“We there yet?” Cooper muttered.

Atreus scanned their surroundings, searching for landmarks. “Almost.”

“‘Kay.”

“You still with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” The healing stone would be enough to keep his body together until they got back to camp, and Atreus knew they would have the right equipment to fix the rest. It was just a matter of getting there so he could be fixed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Cooper’s face scrunched in confused pain; when he finally opened his eyes, it was easy to see what he was thinking. What in the actual hell are you going on about? “You know that thing was there?” he asked.

“No, but…”

“Don’t say dumb shit, then. Damn.”

Atreus didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the rebuttal. It sounded like something Dad would say. “Fine, I rescind my apology.”

“Good.” Cooper’s eyes shut again. “Hey, I’ve got...letters in my bag if anything…”

Atreus’s chest felt tight. That was the last thing he wanted to think about, but… “Yeah, I’ll look for them.”

“Hmm. Thanks.”

Cooper was quiet again after. Atreus could feel him breathing, but that didn’t stop him from double-timing it as best he could without jarring his friend. He was sure he made quite a sight, running into camp while covered in blood, holding a battered Cooper, and screaming for a medic.

The questions started flying almost instantly. What happened, how bad is it, was it IMC? Atreus was able to answer the questions about Cooper’s condition easily, but as for the rest…

How do I even begin to explain what happened?

“Kokinos, what happened?”

Atreus stared their commander in the eye, his brain sluggishly trying to think of a convincing lie. “...troll,” was what came out of his mouth.

“What?”

“It was a troll.”

Then he started laughing.

He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t stop.

Fortunately, they took that as a sign that he might’ve had head trauma and not a sign that he might’ve actually snapped. He didn’t have head trauma, of course—even the bruising on his knuckles had healed during the walk to camp—but at some point the laughter turned into a rattling cough that he couldn’t quite shake.

You lost control.

Sometimes his internal monologue sounded like Dad.

It hurt.

“Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken…” The nurse gave his ribs another check. “You sure it’s…?”

“Allergies,” Atreus said hoarsely. It was his go-to explanation, because saying Oh, I still suffer from negative side effects of not properly controlling my god-abilities because surprise, I’m the half-giant grandson of Zeus but I didn’t know that for a full decade was sure to get him put on psych watch. “Must’ve been something out there that triggered them. Is Cooper going to be okay?”

“I’ll have to check, but last I heard, they were optimistic about his prognosis. Looks worse than it is kind of thing.”

Despite the ache in his chest, Atreus smiled. “Good.”

Any optimism he felt shriveled up and died by the time he was discharged, replaced by worry and blame. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just gone by myself, if I’d kept a better eye on him, if I’d just…

What? Revealed himself before Cooper was smacked unconscious by a troll? Atreus couldn’t do that. He liked Cooper, Cooper was his friend, but…

But what?

He shook his head and started for the showers.

He liked Cooper. Cooper was his friend. But he had no way of knowing how Cooper would react to the news that Atreus was a few thousand years old and had godlike powers. Even if Atreus explained that yeah, technically, all those pantheons were just weirdly powered and long-lived humans (and possibly aliens…Atreus still wasn’t clear on that bit, but he’d been bracing himself to find Alfheim ever since they’d arrived in the Frontier), that was going to change how Cooper looked at him.

What would he think if he knew? Cooper seemed like a pretty understanding guy, but…

Hey, buddy, just wanted to let you know, I’m literally Loki, you know, the Jotnar god with the massive smear campaign against him? My mother is Laufey the Just, also kind of a smear campaign against her, and my father is the Ghost of Sparta…okay, so, the stuff about him is true, but there’s some nuance people like to leave out…

It was terrifying just thinking it.

He ended up staying in the shower until the water ran cold—not that the water getting cold took very long, and not that he noticed when it did. Cold didn’t really register to him anymore. The water had to shut off entirely to jar him from his thoughts.

At least I got the blood off.

Even with nothing to keep him there, it was a struggle to get out. He didn’t want to face anyone else: not their commander (he’d probably want a full report), not the other soldiers (if they stared at him before, they’d definitely stare now), not Cooper (if he was awake, would he ask for Atreus? Probably…he worried too damn much, and there had been a lot of blood). He just wanted to be alone.

Just get it over with, Atreus. Sneak out after everyone’s gone asleep like a normal loner.

Fortunately, giving a report meant writing everything down, and he was left alone to do so. Atreus only gave the basic facts of the hunt, leaving out his speculation and pretending he’d never seen a deer before (hoofed animal with horns, species unknown felt so weird to write, though). The only clarifying point he gave was that he’d said “troll” because it looked like a troll, far as I’m concerned. It was good enough to fool them, and he didn’t feel bad about lying to these people.

Still felt kinda bad about lying to Cooper, though.

He spent the rest of that evening metaphorically beating off the guilt with a stick and waiting for most of the soldiers to turn in for the night. Once they had, leaving was easy. He’d gotten in and out of far more secure locations, and remaining unseen was one of his specialties.

Thanks, Huldra Brothers.

Atreus carefully made his way back into the woods, keeping an eye out for more trolls as he tried to track down the deer again. The night air was cold, and even though they’d moved further inland, he could still smell the ocean, very faintly. At one point, Atreus stopped to take a slow, deep breath.

Closed his eyes and remembered happier times.

That moment of quiet contemplation cleared his mind, enough that he could feel the curious stare of something behind him. Atreus turned around slowly, catching sight of the glowing antlers among the trees.

Does he know?

Atreus didn’t think so; the deer not as something different or especially threatening, but with the wary curiosity of a creature who hadn’t seen many humans but had seen enough to know not to trust them fully. Atreus approached carefully. “You’re all right,” he whispered. “You’re all right.”

He’d always been good with animals—the one trick of his heritage that had been allowed to flourish without making him sick. The deer let him approach, even sniffed his hand when he held it out. “Where did you come from?” Atreus asked, carefully stroking his soft nose. “How long have you been here?”

Deer, like a lot of animals, weren’t terribly complex. Still, he was able to answer the question well enough. He had always lived here, his mind said, as had his father, and his before him. The forest was a part of the family memory, stretching back further than any of them could recall. If there was a starting point, it was beyond them.

Could’ve been comparatively recent. Could’ve been ancient. Deers weren’t especially long-lived, but that was more due to predators than the actual speed at which age took them. This one seemed older than most, but that didn’t help. Atreus was jarred from his thoughts by the deer nibbling at his fingers. He bit back a smile. “I don’t have anything for you,” he admitted, “but I’ll try to keep the humans off your scent.”

The deer snorted, suddenly remembering exactly who he was talking to—or, at least, who he thought he was talking to—and backed off. Atreus watched the deer bound away, his heart aching.

When had a sight once so familiar to him become so miraculous?

He kept walking.

This time, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for—another troll, maybe, some sign of how an actual Midgardian deer could’ve ended up on a planet countless light-years away. He was sure he’d know when he saw it, and he was right. The slight tingle in the back of his skull that meant magic wasn’t something he was looking for, specifically, but he honed in on it once he did, following the sensation to its source. He almost walked right past it, because at a glance it looked like just a pile of stone. But a second glance made him realize this was something he’d seen before. While what was left of the arrangement had either collapsed entirely or was highly unstable, there was enough of it left to form the bottom part of…

A doorway?

He knelt down and pressed a hand to one of the larger rocks. Yes, he had seen this before. It was the same kind of doorway they’d used to get to the realm between realms. For a second, Atreus’s mind raced with possibilities, but as he examined what was left of the structure, he knew it would be no use. He didn’t have the right travel stone, for one, and whatever energy was left in the doorway had been reduced to barely-smoldering embers. Not even enough energy for one trip.

Part of him wanted to cry.

The rest of him was just resigned to it.

That didn’t stop him from sitting in the doorway, legs crossed, hands clasped, eyes closed. As if the proximity could let him feel through space and time. As if it would help him find his way home again.

And, of course, when he opened his eyes, it was almost sunup.

Atreus cursed and took off running. He was able to shave off some time off the return journey with the old turn into a hawk trick, fortunately without being spotted (if a deer was enough to blow the minds of these Frontier babies, a hawk definitely would attract attention). Even more fortunately, it seemed like no one had noticed his absence. There was no lecture about not wandering off at night; just the usual stares and whispers.

Well, not quite the usual. Apparently, word of his troll comment had gotten out, and now everyone was wondering exactly what level of crazy he was to think trolls were real.

I hate it here, Atreus thought.

But he’d chosen this, and he knew it, so Atreus gritted his teeth and ate in his corner, as usual.

There was one piece of good news, and it came by way of the same nurse who’d checked his ribs the day before. “Private Cooper is awake,” she told Atreus. “He was asking about you, so I thought…”

“Yeah, I’ll see him. I don’t think they need me for anything.” And even if they did, they could shove it. Atreus had more important things to worry about right now.

He wasn’t sure what to expect from Cooper’s condition. The healing stones did their job well, but he was a mortal, and he’d taken one hell of a beating. The lack of expectations made seeing his friend sitting upright and putting in earplugs a very pleasant, very welcome surprise. “Hey, buddy,” Atreus said.

Cooper looked his way and smiled weakly. He was making less eye contact than usual; he must not have been feeling well. “The light bulbs in here are a menace,” he said.

Ah, yeah, light bulbs. Atreus understood; he might not have been autistic like Cooper, but having finely honed, better than average senses and a bad case of hyper-vigilance made him aware of some truly annoying sounds. That was another thing he missed about his childhood; electronics and technology were arguably a net good for the human race, but they made the world so damned noisy. “Do you want me to turn the lights out?” Atreus asked.

“No, it’s fine.” Cooper adjusted the second earplug, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as it muffled the faint buzzing coming from overhead. “Be honest. How bad do I look?”

Atreus probably could’ve answered diplomatically, but Cooper had asked him to be honest. When he said something like that, he meant it. “You look terrible,” Atreus said, which was true; he still had a lot of bruising and looked worn-to-the-bone exhausted. “But also? Really good, considering what happened. So, I guess it’s relative.”

“I’ll take that. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I got lucky.” That wasn’t a total lie; he had gotten lucky, for sure. Even as a fully grown adult, taking on a troll and walking away without even a few bruises took a lot of strategy and a healthy dose of luck. “Something triggered my allergies, but that was the worst of it.” Atreus sat on the edge of Cooper’s bed. “I don’t think they believe me, but…full fairness to them, I did say we ran into a troll…”

Cooper snorted. “I don’t know, that sounds pretty accurate. You talked to it, right?”

Ah. Shit, right, he’d forgotten about that. “Yeah, I recognized what it said,” Atreus said. “It was speaking Icelandic, somehow. I’m fluent.”

“Oh. Right, of course you are.” The fact that Cooper swallowed the not-technically-a-lie so easily made Atreus’s stomach turn. “Icelandic? All the way out here?”

“Yeah, I don’t really have an explanation for that.” Still not technically a lie, as Atreus only had half an idea how a troll and a deer got out into this part of the Frontier. “Not our problem, though, not unless there’s another one and they’re IMC-affiliated.”

“Ugh, that’d suck.” Cooper settled back against his pillows. “You sure you’re okay? You look kind of...paler than usual.”

Nothing gets past you, huh? “I’m okay.” Atreus was trying to think of how best to further the lie when he heard a commotion outside. He frowned, turned to face the window, then froze. “Oh, boy.”

A friendly Titan was dragging something into the camp—specifically, the body of the troll he’d killed the day before. Cooper’s eyes widened at the sight. Guess it’s different seeing one in full lighting and when you’re not panicking or semi-conscious. “...guess they have to believe you now, huh?” he said finally.

“Yeah, guess so.”

Cooper insisted on seeing what was going on in person, leading Atreus to just carry him outside on his back—not too difficult when his friend was almost half a foot shorter and Atreus had literal god-tier strength. They had to push through a growing crowd to get close. “...how the shit am I not dead?” Cooper said, quietly awed.

“Insane luck and someone looking out for you,” Atreus replied. He couldn’t help feeling a little sad, seeing the troll like that. He had tried to kill them, sure, but it was a somber sight. A portion of his past, decaying under the sun of an unfamiliar planet. Atreus noted a few of the arrows sticking out of the creature were intact, and old habits kicked in. “Hey, grab those for me, would you?”

If the revelation that Atreus had not, in fact, been off his rocker when he said they’d fought a troll wasn’t enough to get people to stare, seeing him with Private Jack Cooper on his back trying to get arrows out of its corpse was doing it. Cooper seemed oblivious, as always; Atreus just ignored it, until one of their COs came out. “I was skeptical when I read your report, but…” He gave the body a quick kick. “There really is no other word for it, huh?”

“Not really, sir.” Atreus kept glancing at the creature’s face. He could tell its jaw was broken; at least that he’d be able to explain away with the hit its head on the way down defense. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Keep it away from any of those bastards at ARES? God only knows what they’d try to do with something like this.”

Atreus hadn’t thought of that. The revelation spiraled into another, more personal one: what might ARES try to do with a guy like him if they knew he existed? He’d always tried to keep his rage and anything too superhuman in check, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, but if they found out…

That was one of the reasons Dad didn’t want to be involved, wasn’t it? Atreus bit back a sigh at the thought of his father’s face, and that unspoken, stern I told you so that only showed in his eyes when Atreus did something stupid. Fine, fine, you were right, again, shut up…

“...sure that Private Cooper should be out here?”

“I’m okay,” Cooper said quickly. “They said I’d be ready for light duty the day after next, sir. And Kokinos isn’t letting me walk.”

Right. Like I’d really be able to stop you. Well, theoretically he could, but barring any unfair use of his excessive strength, Cooper was too stubborn to be talked out of...a lot of things, really. “I’ve got him, sir, unless you want me to take him back…?” Atreus said hesitantly.

The CO waved them off. “It’s your ass if the medics get pissed. You didn't see any signs of more of those things?”

"No, sir." Hell, I didn't even see signs of this one until it was too late. He knew that trolls were usually pretty solitary, but since there was no good way to bring that up without prompting a lot of awkward questions, he kept that detail to himself. "Want me to go out and look?"

"No, we're heading out again soon, anyways. Once we figure out what to do with this thing."

Good luck with that.

Atreus brought Cooper back to the medical bay, carefully setting him down back into bed. "Have you always been this strong?" Cooper asked.

"It's the bow training. That and you weigh like, ten pounds."

"Thanks, I think."

“You’re welcome. You rest, okay? I’m gonna see if I can help with that troll.”

It was weird; he couldn’t recall a single time in his childhood when they really disposed of a troll personally. Father had always been content to let the wildlife handle it. The most they ever did was move them someplace away from the house or out of any paths. They didn’t have that luxury now. The CO was right; they couldn’t risk the IMC getting their hands on something like this.

It looked like a frost troll, which meant it would probably burn well (not something he ever thought he’d be considering again, but his life had taken a weird turn lately). Fortunately, Atreus didn’t have to explain his logic, as burning it had been everyone else’s thought as well. Prep the body, be ready to torch it right before we go. Don’t want the smoke attracting every enemy Titan in the area.

Atreus had to admit: he was a little disappointed the Ion pilot who suggested using lasers had been turned down. That could’ve been interesting to see.

They prepared the pyre. Atreus slipped in a few quiet prayers as he helped, more out of begrudging respect for his opponent than actual desire to see his soul off to Valhalla. He lingered as the body burned, sticking around with some of the others to make sure they didn't start a forest fire before they left. That somber feeling settled into his bones as he watched the body burn. He stewed in it the entire march to their next location. Not even the whispers that maybe, finally, they would get extracted soon were enough to lift his spirits.

He wasn't sure he wanted to leave, but kept that to himself.

His sour mood must have been obvious and worrying, because the normally minds-his-own-business Cooper asked him about it that night. "If I'm overstepping, just say so, but…" Cooper's hands knotted on his lap as he spoke. "...you seem kind of out of it, and...is this about me? Because I'm going to be okay."

Atreus shrugged. "Yeah, I know that."

"And it wasn't your fault. I'm pretty sure I'm alive because of you."

"I know that, too." Cooper wasn't wrong about that second part. The first part...the what-ifs of how Atreus could've handled that differently, taken the troll down faster, done something, wormed their way back into his mind. I don't know, it's...you ever have one thing go wrong and then it just reminds you of everything else that's gone wrong in your life?"

Cooper grimaced. "Oh, yeah. Anything I can…?"

Not unless you can time travel and force past me to say something to Dad's face before…

Atreus rubbed his eyes. "No," he said. "But thanks. I just…"

I miss my dad. I miss my mom. I miss being myself. I'm sick of Arthur Kokinos. I want…

"...if I tell you something, do you promise you'll keep it a secret?"

Cooper frowned. "Depends on the something, but...most likely."

Fair enough. "It's, uhm…"

His hand clenched into a fist, the tattoos stretching with his muscles. He still remembered his mother explaining the significance to them, what he'd learned after her death that had helped him add on to them, to create the ones no one outside of his family had seen, carefully placed runes wishing him swift feet, endurance, the blessing of his ancestors…

You're the last son of Jotenheim. Never forget that.

"Arthur Kokinos isn't my real name."

Admitting it felt like jumping off a cliff. The fact that Cooper looked more interested and confused than betrayed felt like sticking the landing.

"My dad and I…" He could've told the whole truth, but it didn't feel right. Wrong time, wrong place, too much information at once. So again he settled for another half-truth. "...we've had...problems with very powerful people, and I can't go by my real name. But…it’s Atreus. My father named me Atreus."

As for the rest—that his mother had named him Loki, that his people knew him by that name even before he was born, that he was the last of the giants and the ruin of Asgard (or that was what people said about him, anyway)—that could wait. Maybe one day, he'd be able to tell the whole story, but for now, just Atreus felt like enough.

"Atreus," Cooper said quietly, as if testing the name. "That's not…?"

"Norse? No, it's Greek. That's where my dad's from. I was named after a friend of his, actually." Atreus of Sparta, Atreus of Good Spirits, Atreus the Smiling. Not the worst shoes to step into. "That's why…"

"The surname, I kinda wondered about that. Atreus," Cooper repeated again. "Yeah, you look more like an Atreus than an Arthur. Thank you."

"For what?"

"Telling me. And I definitely can keep that a secret."

"On your honor as a warrior?"

"On my…" Cooper laughed, then winced. "Ah, shit, don't make me laugh, please. Yes, on my honor as a warrior, if you really want to call me that."

"I do."

"Feels a bit much."

"You did go toe to toe with a troll."

"And got my ass kicked."

"Well, you got your ass kicked while fighting, and went down with your weapon in your hands. That's Valhalla material, typically."

"No offense, but Valhalla kind of sounds like it sucks. I don't want eternal combat, I want a nap. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

Atreus shrugged. "No offense taken. That's fair." The conversation was so normal it made his chest ache. Was this how Dad felt when Atreus hadn't flipped out on him for keeping the whole god of war thing a secret? Relieved and confused all at once? "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just..."

"It's fine. I get it. Do you want me to call you Atreus, or…? I mean. Not around other people, obviously, I just didn’t know if it’d throw off your cover."

“It won’t. I’d…I’d like that, actually.”

It would be so good to hear his real name again.

“You’ll have to tell me one day what you guys did to piss off powerful people,” Cooper said.

Oh, you know, just some light mass murder on his end of thing and…being born the wrong species for me. “One day,” Atreus promised. “It’s just…kind of a long story? And I mean that, it’s a really long story…”

Cooper patted his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, no rush. But…was it the IMC?”

Atreus shook his head. “Nah, I wish.” At least pissing them off would probably be funny and less thousands of years of life-or-death bullshit. “Hey, uhm, thank you for…being so understanding. I know, it’s a lot to take in.”

“Nah, I mean. What are friends for, right?”

We’ll see if you keep that energy when you learn everything.

But that was a problem for future Atreus. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy reclaiming one part of his identity.

Even if it was only with one person.

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

0 notes