#The Master Chief x Reader

[morganas-pendragons]

respite | Master Chief

this is the halo discords fault.

@lialacleaf / @embarrassedauthornerd / @empresskadia

***

His dreams are not kind to him.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to wake up in the middle of the night and not allow the scream building in his throat to break free. To untangle his grip from crumpled sheets, to slow his breathing back to something steady where his heartbeat isn't pounding in his own ears.

His dreams are not kind to him. His ghosts, even less.

You're woken up to screaming.

His adjustment has not been easy since Cortana's disappearance. So much has happened to the Master Chief in so little time, and not a single person onboard this ship has taken the opportunity to give him the time to process it.

You're determined to be the one who helps him do so. It starts off simple, as it did when you first met. Assurances of watching his back and being his partner on the field. Friendly touches on forearms and shoulders, firm nods of confirmation, always looking out for each other.

It had turned into something more when he'd saved you from the Flood.

It had turned into something more for him when you'd saved him from the group of Brute Chieftains just before High Charity had crashed. That's a whole other story for a whole other day.

John trusted you. He trusted you with his life, with himself, and that was not easy to obtain. Having the trust of The Master Chief as both a soldier and a person was like being given his heart and watching it settle into your hands.

A broken, bleeding thing.

You remember the first time he'd actually screamed. It was loud and agonizing and raw, and only hours after Miranda had died. You had maybe two hours tops before you had to activate the Ring. You'd forced him to sleep for said two hours, because he was not going to function well otherwise.

The Arbiter acted as he did not hear it. Dishonorable, he'd said, to look upon a man like that and acknowledge his turmoil.

"Well, your dishonor is our comfort."

You'd entered the room and sat by his side until he calmed down. You didn't touch him, you didn't say a word, but the act of your presence at his side was enough.

You slid his helmet back on and leaned forward to lightly knock your head against it. There is not an ounce of apprehension in your gaze. No. That's confidence.

Confidence in him.

"To war then, Master Chief."

John had come to appreciate that about you. When everyone else was betting on him to lose and the odds were entirely against him, your steady footing and steadfastness were all he needed to keep pushing forward.

He found himself seeking you out more than embracing his elusive nature and isolating to cope with what played behind his eyes when he slept. Miranda's death. Keyes death. Johnsons death. Cortana-

Cortana had taken his willingness to embrace the fight. Having you and her had rejuvenated him. Had given him a purpose that he felt he could successfully fulfill.

Then she was gone. She'd touched him, said those words that would forever be burned into his memory, and she was gone.

John would've been lying if he said he wasn't terrified that the same thing would happen to you.

That's what brought him to this point. Fingers wound tightly enough in the sheets to crumple them beneath his grasps, blue eyes wildly seeking something to anchor to while his heart pounded loudly in his ears. The moonlight fractured against the window to his right, illuminating the bedroom and his body in white as he twisted and turned on the mattress.

He didn't fully emerge from that nightmare until you opened the door.

Vulnerable. You're vulnerable. You are not safe.

"John? Are you alright?"

You haven't moved. He can just barely see you lingering in the darkness of his doorway. You've closed the door behind you on entry, fingers wound around the wall loosely as you wait for an opening to come closer.

He needs to breathe. His chest hurts, and his eyes are on fire, and why are his cheeks wet-

You're sitting beside him in a moment's notice. He can't quite hear what you're saying now, and perhaps he doesn't need to, because all he can feel is the warmth of your hand on his chest and the other curving around his jawline. It's a stark contrast from the bitter cold of death that always seems to linger in his dreams.

He reads your lips instead as the world slowly comes back into focus. You are safe. You are with someone you trust. You are secure. All attributes that the two of you have said about one another. All attributes that caused him to allow himself to be vulnerable, to allow you to see a side of him most people didn't.

His mind shifts backwards to the first time he'd let you remove his helmet. That alone spoke volumes. Most Spartans didn't even let the other members of their fire team remove their helmets, or their armor.

It had been the talk of the Infinity for weeks.

"John." You're still giving him an opportunity to talk, and the way your gentleness and patience is so all encompassing causes the breath he'd lost to slowly come back into his lungs. "What do you need?"

The logical part of his brain knows the answer to that. He needs to win the war. He needs peace of mind. He needs sleep, and food, and Blue. He really misses Blue Team.

What he does not need is to talk about this dream. About the death. About losing you, and how watching you die finally made him wake up to a very simple realization: Losing you was not an option. Losing you could not happen, because he was in love with you, and had been for a while.

His desires had just not allowed themselves to be known when being the face of a war only he could win.

His heart, however, is what wins out in the end. Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117 looks up at you and says, "You."

***

You don't know what that means. For all the time that you and John have been dancing around each other - years, in fact, because you'd resigned yourself to your feelings being one-sided long before this - you never anticipated broken, bleeding fingers shakily reaching out to wrap your own around what is left of his heart.

That is exactly what's on full display right now.

"I don't want to take advantage-"

Your breath catches in your throat as John's hands come to cradle your jaw. It's the first time he's touched you without gloves covering his fingers. It's the first time you've also been able to really see him without the helmet, and he is the most magnificent man you've ever laid eyes on.

You've wondered for years what color his eyes are. It has haunted your dreams, especially whenever the two of you were separated when the Forward Unto Dawn split.

Blue. Such a glorious, deep shade of blue.

"If I didn't want it," He says quietly. "I wouldn't ask."

You slide your knees against the standard UNSC mattress and allow him to, though slowly and hesitantly, take you into his embrace. Menial comforts are not something Spartans are afforded. To be able to take the offer of your comfort, of you, is not something he ever regret doing.

John's head slowly falls into the dip of your shoulder the minute you are in his lap. It's comfortable, and warm, and all you can feel against you is every part of him. It's exactly what you've dreamt of for all the years you've held such deeply rooted feelings for him.

You shiver as his breath fans across your skin. It's intimate. You wonder if picking his head back up to kiss him is too far, but you miss one hundred percent of the risks you don't take.

So you do.

"John," You whisper. "There's never going to be a time where I don't bet on you. You are the one who's gotten us this far, and you're the one who will see us through. I know it. I believe in you."

You watch the knot in his throat bob as he swallows, eyes brightened by the beams of moonlight from outside as you both hesitate.

"Believe in me a little bit longer," His voice is so low that you almost don't hear it, and he's the one who leans forward to follow that desire he has suppressed for is long. "Please."

You nod. Once, twice, three times.

"Always."

And the moment his mouth catches yours, the safety he has so desperately been seeking since Cortana disappeared finds itself encompassing him within their arms.

For the weary soldier, respite comes in the form of his partner: His compassionate, empathetic, gentle partner who will always be there to watch his six. To fight his demons, to ward away his ghosts.

He would not have it be anyone else.

Only you.

[lialacleaf]

John likes to rest his hand on the back of reader’s neck, gently rubbing her throat with his thumb. She’s convinced he’s being sweet but secretly he’s a little possessive and likes knowing that nobody will try anything with you if they know you’re his. He’s totally smirking under the helmet…

[short-honey-badger]

Shore Leave 2

Fly Me to the Moon

I wanted to do a part 2 of this pretty badly, so I did it lol. I hope you enjoy some Chief smooches!

Part 1 -> HERE

Part 3 -> HERE

John is so at ease with your presence that he doesn't realize that the minutes have eased into hours, and twilight has soon descended on the city. It is a little slower now than it was earlier, and the spartan only picks up on it when he realizes that you've slowed down on your little stories, and now sit quietly by his side, face turned up in his direction as if studying him. He is used to the staring, but he feels naked without his armor, and his cheeks heat up when you don't look away.

“How long have you been in the UNSC?”

The Master Chief shifts in his seat, making you ease closer to him even if it's unintended. He can't tell you anything that may get you in trouble for knowing, but John can tell you are simply curious and so opts for the easiest answer her can give you.

“A long time.”

He isn't expecting you to snort and chuckle at him, a kind smile on your face as you reach out and gently pat his arm.

“That much is obvious, Big Guy. I get it, though. I won't pry into any secret military stuff you've got going on,” you say and wiggle your fingers at him, still grinning. You suddenly stand, and John is disappointed at the lack of warmth pressed into his side.

“What are you doing?” He asks and flicks his blue eyes up to meet your own. You must find something in them that makes you soften even further, and you offer the super soldier your hand once more.

“Well, the park is still open, and my butt is kinda numb for sitting so long. Do you want to walk with me? There is a burger stall on the other side that we can stop at for food.”

John is wrapping his much larger hand around your own without much thought, his body moving before his mind can make the decision for him. He cracks a smirk and allows you to lead him in the direction of the park entrance. You hum as you walk, and his sensitive ears easily pick the tune apart, but he can't seem to place it.

“What song are you humming?”

You perk up at the question, looking up to catch a look of curious frustration adorning your are friend's face. It's cute. Not that you would tell such a big, burly man that. You don't think John would be able to take it if you told him you thought he was cute. You should probably answer his question.

“It's an older song from Earth. Fly Me to the Moon by Frank Sinatra. My grandma was a big fan.”

John grunts in reply and licks his lips. He wants to hear your voice, but he doesn't know if that is an appropriate thing to ask someone he's only known for a couple of hours. Thankfully, you pick up on the odd silence and quietly speak back up.

“Uhm. Would you like me to sing some of it for you?”

“Yes.”

John is embarrassed by how quickly he'd spoken up. He stops in his tracks, causing you to stop as well since you still had a hold of his hand. You squeeze his fingers and look up at him in silent encouragement. John swallows harshly and meets your eyes once more.

“I would like that, if you don't mind.”

You squeeze his hand again, your smile kind and full of a joy that John isn't privy to very often. It makes him feel good having it aimed at him.

“Don't mind at all, John,” you assure him and tug his hand, “let's keep going.”

The Master Chief dips his head in a nod and follows after you. He can't help but wonder what Cortana may think of you. He likes to imagine that she'd be happy he found someone like you, someone so close to your humanity that you don't mind sharing it with others. His thoughts are quickly cast aside when you open your mouth, voice untrained and a bit scratchy, but still able to hold a tune.

“Fly Me to the Moon.

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby kiss me.”

You squeeze his hand when you sing the verse about holding his hand, and John cracks another smile at the sweet gesture. You are something else, and it almost makes him pause in his tracks when you sing about kissing. Could he do that?

“Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words, I love you”

The Master Chief licks his lips, the lyrics of the song resonating with him in a way he hadn't expected. It's been well over a decade since he has had any type of human Interaction like this, and while the augmentations had changed his body both physically and hormonally, John was still a man. A man who longed to have something normal, even if he didn't recognize that right now. Could he ever love someone?

“Fill my heart with song

Let me sing forevermore

You are all I long for, all I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words

In other words

I love you.”

By the time you've finished the song, the two of you are about halfway around the park. John hasn't paid his surroundings a lick of attention, far too focused on listening to you sing. His mind is full of the lyrics, and the super soldier finds that he wants to try something, and he has few doubts that you would object to.

“You okay, John?”

His spine quakes at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He likes that. Likes how you say his name so carefully. He glances down at you and steps forward, one foot sliding in between your own. John has never been good with beating around the bush, and he wouldn't now either.

“May I kiss you?”

If you are surprised by the sudden question, you don't show it. Instead, you close the distance between them, reaching forward to grab his wrist and lead his hand up to cup your face. You can feel the way his fingers twitch against your flesh, as if John was scared to touch you.

“I would like that.” You say, repeating his words from earlier, and it makes a tiny smirk appear on John's lips. Another victory.

John has to bend quite far to reach your lips, but it swiftly becomes one of the best decisions he's ever made when his lips meet yours is a soft kiss. He keeps his eyes open, watching your expression as he imitates what he's seen actors do in the few holovids that he's watched. You press into the kiss, lips soft and pliant as you let John take his time exploring the new sensation.

Your cheeks are pink as a rose when the Master Chief breaks the kiss, pulling away, but keeping his hand cupped along your jaw, holding you close. Your hands rest on his chest, nails caught in the material of his shirt. You give him a soft smile and turn your face to press your lips to his wrists, kissing one of the scars left behind from the augmentations.

“Thank you, _,” John murmurs and carefully strokes his thumb along your cheekbone, leaning in to kiss you one last time before he drops his hand from your face, only to grab the same hand he held earlier and tangle his fingers with your own.

Before you can say much, the sweet moment is ruined by your stomach letting out a massive growl. You aim a grin at John and tug his hand, walking forward.

“Let's go get food. Sounds good?”

John meets your joyful gaze, and you are rewarded with this beast of a man softening, his lips quirking up in a smile as he follows after you.

“Sounds good.”

[empresskadia]

You: If I died-

John, cleaning his weapon: Death will not get you out of this relationship

[agender-wolfie]

Fem is not the default for fanfics and it’s not a woman’s only space. It’s also disrespectful not to tag your shit ☺️

[fortheb0ys]

I want Master Chief to take off his helmet. See his pretty face, sweat covered and glistening. A proud look on it from a mission well done.

I want to see that same face, just a different look on it. A look of desperation replacing it. Needy lust taken over him.

He's on his knees in full gear. His erection pressing painfully in his suit. His tongue hanging past his chapped lips. Eyes trained on your cock. A begging glimpse behind them.

He wants what's his. He wants his reward. He wants you in his mouth. Hands palm at the bulge in your pants, feeling blood fill your member quickly.

Your thumbs caressing is stubbled chin as you cradle his face. Eyes connecting, so does your understanding. You know what he needs and he will get it.

A small kiss is placed on his forehead.

"Well done, sweetheart." You whisper into the flushed skin behind his ear.

He closes his eyes in anticipation as eye contact is finally severed. The sound of your zipper, a clear sign of what's to come.

[ghostlychief]

OKIE, HI LOVE, I'm so excited. I would like to request Touch-starved! John. John, who didn't realize how it felt to be loved. John, who didn't know how nice it felt to be wanted for being just him. John, who's never had a hug in his life, stiffing when his partner gave him a hug before realizing how comforting it was. John, who doesn't know how to hug his partner back and is scared he'll hurt them.

Okay i love this idea so much. YOUR MIND CONTINUES TO AMAZE ME. Because John would TOTALLY be like this at first. Love touch-starved!John. For some reason the concept of the song Drops of Jupiter popped into my head when i thought of this John. I hope you enjoy what i threw together, and hope you're doing well <3

---

Drops of Jupiter

John-117/Master Chief x reader

no warnings, just fluff!

---

John’s life can really only be measured by statistics, measured quantitatively. From the moment he was found on Eridanus II by Dr. Halsey, his life started to have meaning in the way of numbers. How fast was he growing? How much did he weigh? How much could he lift? Those numbers became one of the most important thing in his life. Besides that, he didn’t have much else to count for. His sole purpose was to train and become the best Spartan II the UNSC has ever seen.

That was until he decided to remove the hormonal pellet, lodged in the center of his lower back, resting in between his spine. Who knew how much power rested in something smaller than a quarter?

This pellet repressed his moods, making sure he was only ever objective, the thought of subjectivity a sin. It also dimmed hormones a normal person experiences in their every day life. Such as, the longing touch of a loved one. Or, the hope to feel accepted by one’s peers. These suppressors were supposed to make the ultimate, elite solider. It was supposed to help aid the Spartan’s on the battle field by making them mission oriented. Act first, ask questions later. As long as the mission was complete and a success, not much else mattered.

At first, John felt disoriented. He felt unbalanced by the new coming of emotions and hormones that spiraled around in his body. There was a crash of emotions washing over his entire body that he forgot he felt before, in a distant past life he wasn’t even sure really existed. It felt rickety, yet exciting. Everything seemed brand new to him. The clouds looked different, the grass brighter, the sun felt warm against his skin. He appreciated the stars that blanketed the sky on a moonless night.

For once, he felt like he completed the orbit around what his life was really about. He finally understood. Life wasn’t just about missions and killing the Covenant. No, there was so much more to it and he finally felt like he touched back home after a long, grueling journey, pulled down by the gravity of the new world he found himself in.

Shortly after his pellet was removed, he met you. You were a linguistic technician that worked closely with many of the people John worked with. You were an expert in Sangheili, which became a hot commodity skill to have in the impending months leading up to the human/Covenant war. John had actually crossed paths with you before, only in passing, but you have met, though not officially.

The day you sat across from him in the cafeteria was Johns’s first encounter with you since feeling different, feeling new. You were already half way seated when you asked, “Mind if I sit here?” John looked up at you, brows furrowed and nodded, but at this point you were already sat down at the table.

“I’d like to pick your brain about something if you don’t mind?” Your sweet voice traveled across to John in the noisy cafeteria and he found himself staring at you for a second before he mentally shook his head. “Sure?” He was still perplexed why you were here sitting with him. Usually no one approached the Spartans unless they were instructed to do so.

“Okay, so I’m in the linguistics department, specifically Sangheili, and I wanted to ask you about the encounters you’ve had with the Sangheili, specifically the higher ranked Sangheili.”

John felt himself slightly smiling at your rambling, but he made sure to hide it from you. He cleared his through them said, “Yeah, I remember you. We met in passing a couple years ago.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! I didn’t think you’d remember.” This time John made sure you noticed his smile, “Spartans have eidetic memory.”

“Ah, that’s right. Well, that’s good for all the questions I have for you then.” You then proceeded to talk to John about the Sangheili culture and how it related to their patterns of speech for the next two hours, time slipping away, fast through your fingers.

After that, John always felt a pull towards you, seemingly stuck in your orbit. If neither of you were on duty, you’d usually end up going on long walks. John told you about his past, like what it was like being in the Spartan program, and other adventures, like his mission on the Halos. You never interrupted him, and typically had follow-up questions, always curious to learn more about him.  

The first time you touched him was when he was explaining how he was taken as a child by Dr. Halsey to be entered into the Spartan program. You rested your hand on his bicep, and your fingers slowly rubbed back and forth in a comforting notion. He at first stiffened, but then soon relaxed under your enchanting touch, longing to feel it again after you left his quarters that night.

He started to see more and more of you, and his feelings slowly and quietly developed into something akin to love, though he was never really sure what that word meant. Not until you. He imagined what love might have been, but could never quantify it since love never dealt in numbers or absolutes. It was abstract, confusing, with no concrete answer to it.

Though all of these new emotions felt confusing at times, John never felt confused by you. You simply loved him, not Master Chief or John-117, just John. Slowly but surely, John felt more comfortable with you, emotionally and also physically. Although Spartans are massive in their stature, people still forget how freakishly strong they actually are. Such as, John can easily flip over a Warthog. So, in dealing with you, he was extra cautious.

The first time you wrapped your arms around his middle in a bone crushing hug, he was worried about hugging back, afraid he would crush you, hurt you. He doesn’t remember ever receiving a hug like that, and he wanted to savor it, and feel it over and over again. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to hurt you, he would always pull you into random hugs through out the day, comforted by your beating heart against his.

John’s life, once measured only in numbers, in quantity, now could be measured by so much more. He was lucky, after all.

---

[specialagentlokitty]

Master chief x reader - shapeshifters fear

Looking at the man in front of you, your heart pounded in your chest, you cradled your injured arm as you felt the blood running through your fingers.

“John…” you whispered.

“My orders are to bring you in.”

“John don’t do this please… you know I’m not a treat…”

“My orders are clear. You are to be tried as a threat to reach, and for lying on your application forms when you applied to be a marine.”

You quickly shook your head.

“I’m not lying! I swear! They asked if I had any contact with a list of certain species and I didn’t!”

“You’re one of them!” He hissed.

“That’s doesn’t mean I’m in contact with them!”

“Then come in without a fight, answer the questions and maybe they’ll just give you time in prison.”

“I’ll be executed.”

He aimed his gun, and you took an unsure step away from him.

“John please… please I’m begging you…”

“Get on your knees, hands behind your head.”

You shook your head.

“John they’ll kill me…”

“I’ll talk with them, but you need to come in peacefully for me to be able to convince them.”

“Do you think that’s going to work?! You saw what they did to that man last week! I never did anything I swear!”

“Stand down.” He said.

You looked around for something, anything to help, and you saw a few barrels nearby but you had to act quickly.

You gave John a small smile, and you shook your head.

“I’d rather die.”

With that, you sprinted away, hearing a bullet go flying past your head.

All you had to do was get somewhere public, get lost in the crowd and go from there.

So all you had to do was get to the bottom of this building, which wasn’t an option with all the marines down there so you went up instead.

John was shouting your name as you ran, running over to the roof, then to the next one, and you jumped down a fire escape, running down the stairs.

You had the advantages of speed, and they knew that, if they lost sight of that then it would be over and you would be lost.

Ducking under the arm of a marine, you jumped down the rest of the way, rolling and you ran into the busy street below.

Weaving in and out of people, down to the subway where more people were and on to the tracks.

It wasn’t safe, but there were hiding places, empty tunnels that weren’t used anymore, so you made your way into one of them.

Creeping around, you crouched against a wall.

“I need help…” you whispered.

You knew they were here, it’s where the hid, and all of your species knew that there were a few who hid under the city for moments like this.

You heard some steps, and you looked to the side at the eyes peering back at you.

“Where to?”

“Just away from here.”

“Very well. Come with me.”

You were quickly taken away from the city, taken away from everything you knew, and taken somewhere else.

A different planet was all you knew, you were placed in a small and quiet town and given a home to share with somebody.

You were constantly on edge though, everytime a ship came in you were ready to run for it, and today was no different.

You were standing outside with the others watching as a ship landed, and you slowly began backing away through the ground when you recognised it.

“(Y/N)!” You friend hissed.

“I need to go.” You whispered back.

They glanced at you, then back to the ship, and you watched as the Spartans came out, two of them going to speak to the mayor.

You turned around, keeping your head down as you walked away, but you were fully aware that you were being followed.

“Stop running.”

You broke out into a sprint, jumping over a fence you ran through a field, and John nearly lost you in the tall grass.

You had changed, but he could see where you ran from the grass, and he began to track you.

You ran through the fields, heading for the mountains, John wasn’t far behind you.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted.

He could see the gleam of your fur in the sun just before you entered the trees.

You kept running, trying anything to get away from him, he was fast, you were slightly faster, if you could find a place to hide and lay low you would win.

While running, you could hear him shouting your name as you kept going, and you kept trying to get away from him.

Finding a wooden bridge, you dug your paws into the ground, coming to a halt and you covered the tracks with dirt, then crawled under it.

You listened carefully to the sound of his steps coming closer.

“(Y/N)!?”

You could hear him on the wooden bridge walking around, then you heard him stop.

“I’m not here to hurt you or arrest you.”

He looked around, and you slowly backed up from the way you were going, crawling towards the other side of the bridge to get out.

You quietly made your way out, and you stood up, turning your go back the way you came from and John was in front of you.

“We know you had nothing to do with the attack, you’ve been cleared.”

You slowly began backing away and he rose his hands.

“No, no don’t.”

John reached up, taking his helmet off and he slowly knelt down, placing it on the ground, his eyes studying you.

“Please don’t be scared of me…” he whispered.

He reached out and you turned your head away, a little unsure and he paused.

“I’m sorry…”

You backed away even more, and then ran back the way you had come from.

John kept coming back when he could, each time you would run away from him, and after a few months you had thought he had given up.

But he hadn’t, he arrived again just like every other time out of uniform, and he walked over to where you were standing in your front garden.

You began backing away.

“I know you’re going to runaway, but I have something for you.”

He slowly reached his hand into his pocket and pulled something out, setting it down on the floor, then he backed away.

“I’ll be here for a few hours until the last ship goes back to reach.”

With that he walked away and you walked over to pick up what he had left.

It didn’t seem like much, just an ordinary hologram, but when you opened it you saw it was a picture of you he had taken when you were trying to teach him new skills.

You loved that memory, just you and him, learning different things and just having fun.

You turned it off, putting it in your pocket, and you went back to what you were doing.

John didn’t wonder too far, he stayed nearby, hoping maybe you would come and talk to him, but you didn’t seem to show any interest in it.

You knew he was still there nearby, and after a while of ignoring him you nervously approached him.

John looked at you as you walked over, but you seemed a little bit nervous, and possibly scared.

“Will you come back?” He asked.

You shook your head.

“It’s not safe for me there…”

“It is, I promise. We had you cleared of all chargers and they’ll reinstate you.”

“So what? I can be blamed again when a shifter does something wrong?”

“No. So you can come back.”

You shook your head.

“I’m not coming back, stop coming here.”

You went to walk away and John shot forward, taking your hand and he walked around you.

“I miss you…” he mumbled.

You stayed quiet, and you looked at his hand that was still holdings yours, and you noticed is bruised knuckles.

“You should be more careful…”

John sighed.

“I’m sorry… I should have done more to protect you… to stand up for you…”

“People don’t trust me, that’s okay…”

“It’s not. I trust you. I know you would never do anything like that, but I was made to follow orders, I should have questioned them but I did. And now I’ve ran you away…”

You sighed slightly.

John took your arm, and he ran his thumb along the scar going across it, from where you had hurt yourself trying to get away from him.

“I made you scared of me…”

John leant down, kissing the top of your head.

“I really am sorry…”

With that he let go, and he made his way back down the street.

“I’m not scared of you…”

He stopped.

“I guess I’m just… I’m scared it’ll happen again…”

He turned around and walked over over, taking your face between his hands.

“If it does I’ll be right by your side I promise…”

“You’ll have to follow orders.”

“I don’t care. I will stand by you.”

“John…”

“I love you.”

You blinked a little in shock.

“I love you.” He repeated.

John leant down, brushing his lips against yours before he pulled away.

His eyes searched yours and you sighed a little bit, tucking your head under his chin because you couldn’t stay away from him.

You had always felt safer with him, and right now you felt safest in his arms standing there.

John held you tightly, a hand on the back of your head.

He knew it was going to take a while to get you to feel safe enough to come back to reach, and if that meant he had to keep going back that’s what he was going to do.

He has screwed up big time, now he had to make it up to you

[cenittxnadir]

Master Chief Dating Headcanons

It is not news that John is not the most social of the group. Not even from the Blue Team. That position will probably be split between Kelly and Fred. So seeing John in a relationship is something completely new and unexpected, but it was nice to see, especially for the rest of the team who jumped at the opportunity to annoy him. It's not every day you get to outsmart Master Chief.

Leaving this clear, expect a lot of doubts and awkward moments with him, not in a negative way, this is all new to him but he is willing to learn your likes and dislikes while he discovers things that the UNSC has long been in charge of taking away from him.

John can be someone quite serious but behind closed doors and among his fellow Spartans he is one of the most relaxed, you won't see him laughing out loud or being flashy but with you he feels like he can be that child he couldn't be, not in a sense of immaturity but for the first time he feels that there is someone who can take care of him.

Dating Spartan is complicated, no matter what generation is. Everyone has trouble interacting outside of their fellow Spartans. So it is not something that despairs you, you will have to be very patient if you want to have a relationship with them.

In John's case, it's probably you who initiated the physical contact part, he doesn't mention it verbally but he really likes the attention you can give him and the day you told him how much you liked his hugs, he kept asking you if you wanted one He was happy, he felt that he was doing good in the relationship.

Consent for John is something vital, he is not used to being touched in a more intimate way, so all the time he will be asking you if he can hold your hand or hug you. He does not do it out of shyness but rather out of respect for your personal space. The last thing he wants is to bother you and it's the same thing he expects of you.

He's the epitome of a provider, something he didn't even know he was. Not only in the economic and material part. He is a protector by nature, so expect him to be aware of everything that happens with you even if you don't mention anything to him, so be careful trying to lie to him or hide something from him, he probably already knows but he won't tell you anything. Maybe you have your reasons for not telling him, but be very careful with this, he may feel insecure, so it is best to maintain good communication.

Speaking of economics, Spartans do have a salary, most of it goes into savings, since the UNSC provides them with all their needs. So taking this into account and John's military rank, he has a few zeros in his pocket. So when he discovered that many couples gave each other gifts as a sign of affection, he took this method to compensate you every time he had to go on a long mission. Soon after, he practically became your sugar daddy until the gifts were enough and you decided to put a stop to it. You explained him that a hug from him after so long without seeing him was worth more than any material gift.

John, being a protector, will be watching you at any time, not because he distrusts you but because you are important to him and he does not want anything bad to happen to you, he has had enough bad things in his life, you are one of the few good things that has. He can become jealous, but he would not do anything extreme or sick, as long as your life is not compromised, in case something like this happens, he will not hesitate for a second to use all possible means to protect you, even if it means abusing his of position.

In conclusion, you are the most precious thing he has, he will not let anything bad happen to you and that is a promise he made the day you agreed to be with him. Despite his appearance, John has learned to be more relaxed and enjoy the little things more, as long as you are by his side to show him how valuable his effort has been all these years and that now it is his turn to be taken care of by someone else.

[eureka-its-zico]

A Body of Stars

Ongoing series

Synopsis: With a galaxy at war, it’s hard to distinguish the stars from the metal of UNSC ships. You were told about the war that waged between the UNSC and insurrectionists; your planet opposing them since you were born. Your enemy was meant to be the UNSC and the Spartans they created, specifically John-117 - the Master Chief. Except, all isn’t as black and white as you were raised to believe, and the galaxy holds secrets far darker than you could’ve imagined.

Pairing: John - 117 x F!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, Halo TV series/Mass Effect mashup

Warnings: mentions of war, violence

Word count: 11.7k

A/N: Alright. As hyper fixations go, the Halo series (and let’s be real, Pablo is a menace) has my ass in a chokehold. That being said, season 2 was amazing and made me want to work on a small fic that blended the series and my love of BioWare’s Mass Effect. Mass Effect is my favorite sci-fi space game about galactic war, friendship, love, sacrifice. I could rant but I won’t. There will be mentions of certain ME things in here, like the reader having biotics, to go along with the lore of the halo series. So, without further ado: its back story time. I hope someone out there enjoys this and as always, thank you for reading 🖤 much love, Jenn

Year: 2521

•Shadow Sea cluster•

•Lera system•

Destination: Laconix

ETA: 13 hours

The Midsummer Night came out of slip space without a hitch.

Not that he’d been worried. It was one of the few things that Captain Jacob Keyes hadn’t worried about during this current mission. What, or rather who, currently worried him was standing less than ten yards from him and came in the form of his ex-wife. He risked a glance where Dr. Catherine Halsey was hunched over with her nose deep inside another holopad. 

Those holopads had been one of the many reasons why their marriage fell apart. 

There was no doubting the brilliance her work contributed to the scientific field or the war effort. All of her research was the stepping stone humanity needed in terms of augmentation and the human genome. The contributions Halsey and her Spartans made towards this never-ending battle against the covenant saved lives, but, and it was a big but, Jacob knew that Halsey’s methods were questionable, at best. Hell, he’d been a part of those questionable decisions, driving the helm, while she did what she deemed was necessary. 

Vital. 

So, Jacob Keyes knew without her ever having to say a word that something was off. The Midsummer Night and the Pegasus holding Halsey’s darling Spartain-III’s were meant to go for a routine extraction. Intel indicated one of the leaders in the insurrectionist rebel groups, Kahn Montrello, was located on a planet within the Lera system of the Shadow Sea cluster. It was a typical snatch-and-grab unless they were met with resistance. 

Halsey requesting to tag along was more than just a surprise. It was suspicious. Jacob knew Halsey didn’t do anything without purpose.

“Tell me again why you’ve insisted on inserting yourself into a routine mission dealing with insurrectionists?”

Halsey hadn’t even looked up from the damn holopad to acknowledge he’d walked over. 

“I’m just here to gather some data while the Silver Team is dispatched to help your marines on the ground.”

Jacob’s boots scuffed against the metal of the bridge as he moved closer to her. His eyes on Catherine’s back - willing her to turn, to acknowledge him - as her gaze held tightly to the readings she’d taken from a tablet from her lab. The data was transferred to the larger scale computer in the bridge’s main console. Halsey’s eyes roaming endlessly through data Jacob himself knew he’d never understand without her help. 

“Come on, Catherine. That may be the bullshit you fed Parangosky and the other admirals, but don’t feed me the same lies and expect it to go down smoothly.”

Halsey broke away for the briefest millisecond from whatever data she was reading. Her eyes skimmed over him before returning back to what was more important.

Research in the name of human exploration always was.

“It’s not bullshit. Data collected in the field is highly valuable for furthering my research; proof to Parangosky the Spartan research is worth her continued funding.”

“That’s a nice speech, Catherine, but I know that any collected data during the mission is recorded and sent back to your lab for analysis. So, when are you going to start telling me something honest?”

Honesty. 

Asking Halsey to be anything other than secretive was like asking a tiger to get rid of its stripes. Jacob knew even if she told him - really shared - it still wouldn’t be all of the actual information. Key pieces of information - the most valuable - would be forever stored within her; leverage for another day. 

Whatever it was she could see on those holopads had her sky blue eyes wide in excitement. Halsey wouldn’t be able to contain it - hide it - for much longer.  If the small rise at the corner of her mouth was any indication, all Jacob needed to do was push a little further. Find the right words to spark a rush of hypotheticals that might turn out to hold some truth. If she didn’t crack yet, it would take one more well-placed question and she would cave. 

“Jacob,” her voice was breathy, tinged with unrestrained joy. “I think I found something.”

“What are you talking about, Catherine? Found something?”

More cryptics. More hoops. 

A sigh heavy with years of fights - conflicts - departed his lips and Halsey rushed to recover some ground. Her body quickly took back the space he left to place her hand gently on his bicep. The grip was soft but demanding that he stay close; pleading with him not to pull away.

Halsey needed him. 

“A few weeks ago the UNSC sent over old documents from companies they’d disassembled. Conatix was one of them.”

It wasn’t hard to spot the confusion that deepened the lines in the crease of Jacob’s forehead and scrunched up his nose. His eyes roamed her face searching for a tell, but if Halsey had one she’d never show it. 

“Conatix was an old UNSC factory that produced our warships-“

“Yes, I know.”

“Why would you be interested in anything about warships?”

Halsey scanned the room to make sure no one was watching - no eyes lingering on the two of them - before she directed her attention back to him. The caution that darkened her eyes shifted with a spark Jacob knew all too well. 

Halsey had found something. Really found something. 

“Usually, nothing of value would be of interest in old documents and schematics for warships but, while scrolling through the files I stumbled upon an encrypted file.”

“UNSC documentation is always encrypted when it’s being shipped out to-“

“To be destroyed, yes I already know that, Jacob,” Halsey cut in. Her body directed back towards the holopad that she carefully picked up. Her fingers darted across the screen hunting for the files in question. “But this was different. It wasn’t schematics or calculations - it was redacted - sealed documents about an incident.”

No sooner had she started Halsey was finished. Her hand reached out to give him the holopad and waited patiently for him to take it. 

“Go ahead.”

Jacob looked around the ship's bridge to make sure no one was watching. He needed to be careful, not necessarily for Halsey’s sake, but for that of his crew. He should’ve known - did know - Halsey had a habit, a bad one, to go above the chain of command to get what she wanted. That leverage she saved for a rainy day coming in hot to throw around pawns and pieces as she saw fit to get her way. 

Cautiously, Jacob secured the holopad from her and started looking at the documents, or what little he could see. Almost with every swipe all he saw were broken links and documents with holes of information missing. Sentences that formed into two words with the rest gone or replaced by shapes and numbers. An elaborate break in the code. 

“I was able to decipher most of them. Get back what information they tried to hide-“

“Catherine,” he whispered her name in warning, not for himself, but for her. 

“Jacob - this wasn’t about warships or weapons or schematics. Something happened. A ship they’d used with element zero - eezo - had leaked out over a few colonies. A hole in one of the port engines that wasn’t caught in time.”

“Catherine,” Jacob pleaded again, “This isn’t news or anything that concerns you or me.”

Halsey wasn’t going to back down. He knew she wouldn’t. Not when the sheer joy of finding something undiscovered was close. The science behind furthering human evolution. The moment he realized what this was - what he held in his hands - Jacob knew his eyes were saucers. The sudden shock of realization stunning him to the spot. 

“Children, Jacob,” Halsey practically laughed. “The pregnant mothers who were infected by the particles gave birth to children with eezo ingrained into their nervous system. The abilities these files claim they saw…it’s like nothing I’ve ever read.”

In her excitement, Halsey reached out and took a hold of his arm. The startled warmth of her touch was enough to knock Jacob back out of his daze. His eyes skimming one more time over impossible things he saw in diagrams Halsey recreated. 

“Even if that was true, you don’t even know if any of them are still alive or where they are.”

With her lips curved up in victory, Halsey plucked the holopad from his hands. 

“Yes I do. We’re headed there now.”

————-

“You get caught staring up at the sky again and Caster is going to throw a fit.”

“When isn’t he throwing a fit?”

Your question wasn’t meant for an answer. The words barely made it above a whisper while you kept watch on the green hued light that streaked across the sky like a river. Calling it green felt like you were doing it a disservice. You knew it was more than that - the way it moved with purpose across the endless blue above. The different shades that reminded you of the grass on which you stood and dark as the forest that surrounded you. 

“Come on,” Thao called over his shoulder. Your name calling from his lips like it would be enough to coax you forward. “I want to get back to actually enjoy what little of my day I have left.”

“You can enjoy it now,” you reminded him. 

It took a few more seconds - another millisecond after that - for your eyes to turn back to the world around you. The snap of a branch somewhere off to your right informing you Thao had taken off without waiting for you to catch up. 

“Not when my friends are back at the colony having fun without me. And I’m out here looking for dumb ass yaks.”

A small tut of disapproval clicked at the roof of your mouth. Your stride easily brings you closer to the shorter eleven-year-old boy. It allowed you to gently ruffle his hair. Your efforts were greeted by a grunt of annoyance with his hand grabbing at your wrist to gently shove you away. 

“And just think, you would be there now, doing whatever it is you troublemakers do, if you and your friends hadn’t set a flare off inside Caster’s hut. And don’t disrespect the yaks.”

Thao’s eyes disappeared inside his head as your elbow gently nudged his shoulder. You must be making some kind of progress, because this time he made no move to push you away. 

“Old man deserved it. Always hoarding the chicken eggs.”

“He owns the chickens.”

“So?”

“So,” you drawled, “it means he owns the eggs. Owning the eggs also means he gets to distribute them however he sees fit.”

“How is that fair? You know he gave Lydia and her kids three eggs last week? Three eggs. What is a family of five supposed to do with that? It’s not right.”

You knew what Thao meant. You understood the feeling of anger that burned into sadness and ultimately to the ash of defeat. Kahn allowed those who proved useful in the fight against the UNSC to have a majority hold on most of the items in the colony. Those who allowed themselves to be shuffled around an unseeable chessboard like pawns. 

Willing to die, to give up everything, at his disposal. 

All in the name of fighting a government who grew more powerful everyday. The UNSC sharing their own videos of propaganda that showed thousands upon thousands of soldiers equally willing to die for a cause, and Spartans being the unmovable force needed to shift any battle back into the UNSC’s favor. It was this very reason Kahn looked for those desperate enough to join, to do anything he asked, to win. 

A devoted father agrees to be a walking bomb to blow up a UNSC building? His family is rewarded with food, wood, and blankets to help make it through the harsh winters. Attempting to infiltrate a building to release a virus, whether you were caught or not, Kahn took care of your family. It could be with livestock, guns for protection, or even the yaks whose pelts made the biggest profit at the markets. 

Every loss of life was just another reminder of the men and women who slowly disappeared from the colony. A senseless loss of life. You were still trying to figure out what it was for; what purpose you hadn’t been able to see, because for every life lost in the pursuit of justice against the USNC, their numbers only grew. The colony's numbers, however, weren't so lucky. 

“You could turn this war around.”

“I won’t kill for you, Kahn.”

You swiftly whipped your head to the side to rid yourself of the memory. Your eyes narrowing on the green rolling hills on the other side of the treeline. That was where you would find the yaks grazing. You gently patted Thao’ss shoulder - for whatever comfort it would give - before you moved forward to take point. 

“That’s because it isn’t fair, Thao.”

“See! Even you agree,” Thao huffed out your name. His small body broke into a jog to match your hurried step. “If anyone in the colony would be able to kick his ass, it would be you.”

Your feet were turning before you’d even realized it. Your body answered the piercing spike of adrenaline in your blood with your hands shooting out to grab his shoulders. The action made you crouch a couple inches until you were face-to-face with Thao. Your eyes scanned wildly across his features reading nothing but uncertainty. 

“Don’t ever say something like that out loud again, Thao. Do you understand me?”

“I was only saying-“

“I know what you're trying to say. The answer is no, and if Kahn or any of his dumbass lackies ever heard you even mention something like that we are both as good as dead.”

“But-“

“Tell me you understand!”

If anyone asked why you felt the sudden surge of panic ripple over your skin, you wouldn’t be able to say, or  place where it stemmed from. Technically, the both of you were out in the safety of the mountain fields and away from the prying eyes of Kahn’s dictatorship. Lost behind a sea of forest, the rolling fields of green, and poppies that puddled around you like blood. 

You’d seen what Kahn and his insurrectionists were capable of. Any whisper - false or not - and the person went missing. Kahn ruled the colony with the fear generated by the UNSC, but cultivated his own like the boogeyman. 

“Yeah I get it. Whatever.”

Thao shrugged out of your hold and turned away from you. His pre-teen feet stomped a path out of the tree line and out into the field. A sigh left you, worn and heavy, as you watched his retreat. 

I Should’ve been softer…

You let out a huff of air as a hand scrubbed over your face. It was supposed to be a simple ‘herd the yaks back to the colony’ type of day. Not grovel to one of the only people - kid or not - who wasn’t afraid of you. 

It was your turn to jog after his retreating form. Quickly, you noticed that he didn’t even look up to acknowledge your presence. He wasn’t sending jokes about being an old lady (you were twenty-four, thank you very much) whose brittle bones could snap under the strain of being a person. You would’ve taken being called an old lady than suffering through the silent treatment. 

Gently, you nudged his shoulder with your elbow. When he didn’t turn you tried again and again until, finally, you were rewarded with him turning an annoyed side-eye in your direction. You gave him your best apologetic smile and carefully looped your arm around his shoulders to bring him in close. 

“I’m sorry. Okay? I was kind of an asshole.”

“A major asshole.”

“Okay. I’ll accept that major part but only for today.”

“If there was an asshole award, you would’ve taken home the prize-“

“Okay, geez. I get it.”

You both settled into a comfortable pace with your arm still draped over his shoulders. Your mind raced back to the last time you’d been able to do this.  Thao had been younger - shorter - and with the rate he was growing, you soon might not be able to reach him. Soon, Thao might not care for your company. 

“You know, I am surprised you didn’t fracture an ankle running after me at your tender age.”

“Alright, that’s enough for today,” you grumbled in mock annoyance. 

You ended up having to shove him away just to try and hide the smile that threatened to lift the edges of your mouth. The sound of Thao’s laughter at your weak attempt at being mean - he 100% knew it took way too much to even make you raise your voice - made the crack of a smile begin to form. 

The yaks were about another ten or so feet ahead of you both. Their massive bodies moved in slow steps while they grazed along the long grass. You weren’t sure if it was their adorable long bangs that made it impossible for them to notice you right away (doubtful) or if they just didn’t consider either of you a threat (possible). Either way, they didn’t startle as the two of you closed the remaining distance. Didn’t jump up to try and kick or gore either of you with their horns when Thao produced the ropes from his satchel. 

It took a grand total of ten minutes, maybe less, to have all seven of the yaks securely held in makeshift collars from the rope. Their large bodies begrudgingly followed the two of you as you gently pulled the lead, forcing them to give up their meal of dewy grass and follow you back through the treeline. 

“You know,” Thao cautiously began, his eyes skimming between you and the trees. “This might be a lot faster if you just…ya know, float them up.”

“Float them up?”

“With your blue magic.”

This time you weren’t able to hide your smile as you shook your head. 

“It’s called biotics, Thao, not blue magic.”

“Blue magic sounds waaaay cooler than ‘biotics’. Who even came up with that lame name, anyway.” 

“You can thank the good folks at Conatix for that one.”

One of the yaks pulled back on its lead forcing you to give a slight tug back. You could understand if they were tired after eating, but you really didn’t have time in your schedule for yak naps. A huff of air came from the nostrils of the yak to drive home that it wasn't happy not having its nap. Or maybe it was the berry bush it was after, either way, napping and eating stops were prohibited. 

You weren’t aware the conversation had died until Thao’s voice interrupted the silence. 

“Is it true that you were born like that?”

His question was timid - afraid he would upset you. You were used to the questions; the stares. You remember sitting with your parents in a room, about Thao’s age, when Conatix came back around trying to clean up their mess. Said mess being spilling eezo from their ships across planets that later infected children. While some pregnant mothers had children like you, exposed to element zero in the womb creating a nervous system made of eezo, a majority were far less lucky. Children born riddled with tumors or horrific physical complications that left them in pain their entire lives. 

You were supposed to be a lucky one. 

One of the lucky ones they’d been trying to take back with them to their laboratories. A lucky one meant to be bought by a substantial fee that your parents quickly declined. It was the last choice they ever got to make for you before they mysteriously died in a tragic accident off-world. 

“Yes.”

You didn’t feel lucky and maybe it was the way the words crumbled out of your mouth. The way they sat suspended in the air in a swirl of regrets and dead wishes that Thao knew you didn’t want to talk anymore. Not about your past or anything that reminded you that what you are - who you are - has felt like one big burden. You wondered, most nights, if there was a possibility that curses could be born. 

————

The rest of the walk back was filled with an awkward silence. You weren’t sure if it was one you’d made by your lack of response, or if Thao no longer felt like talking. A part of you feared the image he’d held of you since he was young, full of mystery that made you seem cool, was slowly becoming destroyed. You knew it was a matter of time before it happened.

You were an anomaly. 

Children saw you as magical, while adults believed you could perform some kind of mind control or read their thoughts. It was the main reason Kahn wanted you to join the resistance. Who wouldn’t want someone who could read thoughts and control minds on their team? You’d know when and where attacks could happen and make them blow up their ships from the inside. Unfortunately, for Kahn, the only thoughts you could read were your own and, as of right now, they were desperately shouting at you not to lose one of the few friends you had left. 

Even if they happened to be a young boy who was notorious for being the most talkative kid in the colony. 

With a few more steps up the hill, you both came to a stop at the top of the hill. You took in the thatched roofs of the huts that lay scattered in a misshapen circle of rows. The outer ring of homes were made of clay and the only splash’s of color came from designs being painted on the sides of homes or flowers planted in the yard. 

The middle ring was meant to be for men like Kahn and his commanders; men and women of importance so that they lived closer to the final, smaller ring, of storefronts and farmers. The middle circle was left open and featured a large walkway down the center of town and out into the hills. 

Kahn specifically had the colony built this way. The walkway was the most important, because Kahn believed it was good for his people to be able to watch those that fought for their freedoms return from another victory against the UNSC. You knew it was more about parading around having people kiss his ass than for uplifting any kind of morale. 

It was the same path that Thao and you took now as you brought in the yaks from the mountains. You knew it wouldn’t be long until you got them back inside their pen and with the irritated snorts and tugs on their leashes, the yaks knew it too. The sound of multiple small feet came rushing in on Thao’s side and the faces of a few village children came into view. They made sure to stop just before they got in the way of a yak. 

“Thao, can you come play?” 

“Not yet. I have to finish this choir for Caster.”

A lot of groaning ensued and you felt your free hand reach over the back of a yak. Your fingers waving for him to give you his leashes. Thao’s brow raised in question and you only answered him by pointing at the leash and waving him again to hand it over. 

“Hurry up and give them to me before I change my mind.”

You were trying to be grumpy. The way any elder in town would complain about the youth of today being too soft and not knowing the meaning of hard work and blah blah. You were sure they were all just stuck in super grouchy mode from having to be an adult with responsibilities for too long. And because of that, you knew, instead of looking grumpy, a smile was already brightening up your face. Thao’s face lit up in response and his eyes darted - unsure - from up the path and back to you. 

“Are you sure? Caster -“

“Will never know that you didn’t help bring them all the way back. Now, like I said, hand over the lead before I suddenly have a fit of amnesia.” 

He didn’t need further prompting. Thao’s hand smashed the remaining leashes into your waiting palm and turned on his heel to run off with the other kids. A soft, “thank you,” calling out behind him. 

You didn’t waste any more  time watching their retreating backs as they tore down a small alleyway between huts. You had your own things that you still needed to finish today. As you continued on your way, you greeted people who were outside in their gardens or hanging up laundry. Some of them returned your greetings of, “Hello,” with grunts with their backs turned to you or hurried inside. Apparently, if they didn’t look you in the eye or were behind the safety of a wall it kept you from using your mind control powers. 

You were willing to bet Kahn had something to do with that latest lie about your make believe abilities. If you wouldn’t fight for him, why not cause a little mass panic in your presence. You being the monster and him, the hero, forcing you to toe the line. No ‘mind reading’ unless it was for the ‘cause’. 

As you neared the pen in front of Caster’s shop, you started to rotate the leashes tighter in your hands. You were positive if the yaks felt a slack in their leash, they would attempt a revolt. They also weren’t the biggest fan of the metal pen of broken down ships Caster created to house them; the metal of an old hatch door from a USNC frigate - rusted and covered in moss - groaned as it opened. A sound the yaks knew well and instantly sent their hooves stamping into the muddy grass. 

“Alright, ladies, I don’t want any trouble. It’s time to get your butts back in here - whoa!”You shot around with a start as one of the yaks gently bumped its nose against your back sending you forward towards the pen. “None of that,” you mumbled. Your index finger pointing at your chest then back to every single one of them. “Your home, not mine. Now go.”

With a cautious glance over your shoulder you took a step forward leading the herd inside. It wasn’t until you’d begun to remove their leashes that the familiar sound of a man clearing his throat brought your gaze up to search the fence. It didn’t take long for you to find Caster leaning against it. An arm hanging over while the other held up whatever self-righteous bullshit questioning he was about to spew. 

“Where’s Thao?”

“He helped me bring them here, Caster. I sent him on his way once we reached the pen.”

“That’s not what he was told to do and you don’t have any authority to change orders.”

Every word reached you like a slap in the face. Caster’s irritation was evident with the click of his tongue. You tried to keep your face neutral; your gaze fixed on one of the yak's as your fingers ran through the tangled fur. You gave one final pat to signal your departure before you walked back to the pen’s exit. 

“I wasn’t aware Thao had to be the specific individual to deliver a bunch of yaks inside the pen.”

“Bullshit,” Caster snarled your name. His body closing the distance between you as you stepped through the pen entrance. “You can try and play dumb with me all you want, but we both know you aren’t that damn dense. Thao can’t shut up even for a second in his sleep, and you’re trying to tell me the boy magically didn’t complain the whole time he was with you?”

Caster invaded what little space you had once you stepped fully out from behind the pen. The door hadn’t even closed yet before Caster rushed you, attempting to trap you between him and the metal. The cold gray of his eyes roamed your face waiting for you to break at his intimidation. 

One of the Shadow Sea’s three moons would have to explode first before that ever happened. 

You jammed the cool metal of the pens chains into his chest. You didn’t bother to see if he would catch it when you released it. You knew he would, and when Caster did, you made sure to take a step towards him forcing the older man two options; hold his ground or back up. You weren’t surprised when he did the latter. 

“You’re right, Caster, I’m not that damn dense. Close up your own fucking pen.”

You didn’t give him the chance to reply. The first step you took forced him to take another step back, your shoulder ramming into his as you pushed your way past him. 

Could you have gone around? 

Yes, but, no matter what, it felt a lot better being petty for a couple of seconds than pretending for a second you cared. 

It didn’t take Caster long to find his bearings. The sound of the chains rustling in his hands and a slew of curses thrown at your back were the first to greet you before he yelled after you: “Just wait until Kahn hears about this!”

“Yea, yea,” you mumbled.

You were willing to bet no matter how the exchange between Caster and you went, Kahn was always going to hear how it went. Good or bad. Caster yelled something else at your retreating back. You responded with a wave and continued back down the main path before you veered off course into a smaller path. It was one you knew well since you were a child. One you knew led to your grandparents' hut. 

Smoke rose from the clay chimney and you knew, before you entered through the doorway, you’d find your grandfather working to dry his latest clay pots by the fire. Your grandmothers weathered fingers working tirelessly with a needle and her beadwork scattered over the small table. It was only a few days before everyone with goods left to try and sell them at the Market. You moved through the small space stopping to kiss the top of your grandmother’s head before you gently took over for your grandfather. 

“And where did you run off to this morning?” 

You didn’t have to look up to feel the weight of your grandfather’s stare. His scrutinizing eyes waiting for you to give him a response knowing full well it wasn’t going to be the one he wanted.

“There is no need to worry, grandpa. I was nowhere and everywhere all at once.”

“That sentence alone turned what little hair I have left white.”

“All of your hairs’ already white.”

“Precisely my point,” he groaned. 

The soft chuckle of your grandmother cut through the tension in the small room. Your eyes now directed to the open flame and focused on turning the pot slowly with the tongs. The last thing you wanted to hear on top of giving your grandfather white hair and an early grave was ruining a pot he’d worked on most of this morning. 

“Would you two stop it? I’m sure she has a perfectly good explanation for why she was missing this morning. Don’t you dear?”

Your grandmother sent a coy look in your direction and you couldn’t wait to completely crush her dreams. While your grandfather believed in hard work, your grandmother believed in finding a good spouse who could provide for the imaginary great grandchildren she’d already named. 

Either that or joining the resistance. 

“I was out helping Thao rally up the yaks that ran away this morning.”

A sigh so heavy escaped from your grandfather’s chest that you could’ve sworn all your ancestors before you joined him. 

“And there it is.”

The soft call of your name forced your attention back to where your grandmother now sat idle. Her hands placing the beadwork and adjoining needles on the table. Her small frame turned on the bench to make sure she had your full attention. 

“I’m happy you want to help but you already know Kahn will-“

“Will throw a bitch fit. Yeah, yeah, I know.”

A smack on your arm sent you jolting back in surprise. Your eyes cautiously roaming over to your grandmother to see if she was going to hit you again. With how tightly her lips were pressed together, you had a feeling, with some of the things that came from your mouth, the possibility of her doing it again was imminent. 

“Whether you like him or not, Kahn is our leader.”

“No, he is your leader. Kahn will never be mine. A real leader doesn’t sacrifice their people to gain information or so they don’t get locked up inside a UNSC prison.”

“And do you think there is someone more fit to lead if he was gone? Who do you think would run the rebellion?”

“Plenty of more competent individuals could step forward to take his place if he wasn’t aro-“

You realized you sounded like Thao who, hours before, you’d shushed him into complacency. Your fear for his safety was paramount over how right his words might have been. And here you were doing the exact same thing inside your grandparents hut. 

“Enough!” 

Your grandfather wasn’t known for raising his voice and when he did it was usually out of desperation; a fear that surpassed anger that delved into worry from the unknown. You could see it now etched into every wrinkle that creased in the sagging skin of his sunburnt face. The way he tried to hold onto the anger before it was swept away by something he wouldn’t voice in fear of giving it a name. 

“Whether you like it or not, Kahn runs this settlement. He is the only one working here to free us from the tyrant that is the UNSC! At least he is doing something, which is more than I can say for my own granddaughter!”

“Ernest,” your grandmother’s voice cautioned. 

“So you want me to just let him use me like some kind of weapon?”

You no longer cared about holding the pinchers over the fire or the clay pot - your grandfather's life’s work - held delicately between them. As you stood up from the stool you dropped the pinchers and the sound of clay cracking tapered over your shuddering breathing for just a moment. You moved away from the fire towards a corner of the room closest to the door. The thunder in your ears drowning out the shouts of your grandmother; your eyes coming in and out of focus as you tried to ease the panic from your veins. 

It would only take a second - a fatal second of panic to fill the room with a cobalt hue of flame that would ruin everything. 

“Kahn offers you a way to use your gift, to teach you how to use it, and better help our people and you spit in his face!” He hissed. “Your parents gave their life for the cause-“

“And what has Kahn given!?” You hadn’t meant to scream. Each word laced with a grief stricken with rage that only bloomed brighter over time. “He asks families to give their husbands, wives, their children to fight his battles and what the fuck does he do for us?!”

“Why can’t you ever see that you can help save us? Kahn can help teach you how to control it.”

“Help me control it or control me?”

“You ungrateful child.”

His words hissed through the air and buried themselves in the hollow of your chest. Your feet involuntarily took a step back, ready to flee the hut, ready to find peace in the hills of the forest when the collective raised shouts of the villagers rang out from behind the walls. 

“UNSC vessels spotted!”

It was the distraction you needed to escape the hut. The shouts of worried men and women pushing you to rush outside and greedily take gulp after gulp of fresh air until the flare, the warmth, of your power began to dig back inside your skin. When you dragged your gaze away from the grass you were greeted with villagers running back and forth. The ones who sprinted down the open lane back out towards the open forest only ended up coming back moments later. 

You made your way out into the crowd, weaving in between the bodies to get to the heart of the circle their bodies created. They all stood in large huddled groups; mothers clutching their children and the able bodied men moving in front of them, in front of everyone, to try and guard them. The villagers who tried running down the main road were coming, as if herded, back to the center of the village. You didn’t understand why they were all running back to the middle. 

This was a kill zone. 

Strategically the worst place to be for any of the resistance fighters if they were going to make any attempt to fight back. It wasn't until you made it to the middle that your earlier rage turned to ice as you watched the UNSC marines, and four very big fucking Spartans, make their way up the middle. 

If Spartans were here you knew no one stood a chance. A fight would be suicide. You needed to get back to your grandparents. You needed - 

“Attention settlers of the Lera system of Laconix: I am Captain Jacob Keyes of the USNC. We have viable intel that led us to believe that you are harboring a fugitive by the name of Kahn Montrello - a known insurrectionist. We are asking for your cooperation in this matter. We can resolve this matter peacefully, with no need to resort to any unnecessary violence.”

“Screw you! You have no jurisdiction here or any outer colonies.”

Fred. That was his name. Maybe. You didn’t know - couldn’t remember. Your brain couldn’t think past your own rushing pulse or speeding thoughts. He was just pushing past the crowd with angry shouts and limbs flying while he moved towards them. You watched as he made his way towards the marines like a man on fire, and was met by a Marine who burned brighter. The butt of their gun cracking against his cheek sent him spiraling to the ground. 

You weren’t sure if you were already panicked or if the sight of blood seeping through his fingers caused it. No matter what the real reason was you knew there was no getting around whatever came next. Like a swarm of locusts, the marines fanned out and moved forward. Their bodies corralled the villagers tighter together and kept any hope of escape at bay. 

It was the perfect time for Kahn to make his appearance. His form practically glided from between a lake of terrified bodies frozen in fear, clutching one another, as he opened his arms in welcome. 

“You say you wish us no violence, only want our cooperation, and yet attack a simple working man.”

“You need to stay where you are or you will be taken down with force,” a marine answered, their gun trained on Kahn who continued to take careful steps forward. 

He responded with his hands showing he wasn’t armed. Kahn made a show to come to a stop in front of Captain Keyes. 

“Maybe that was advice you should’ve opened with, Captain Keyes.”

Kahn was treating this like a joke. He was wearing that easy smile of his displaying he didn’t have a care in the world. He was either suicidal, genocidial in willing to let them completely kill the colony or, you realized with a sickening drop in your stomach, Kahn had another plan. 

“And you are?”

“I’m Malcom. Another humble merchant who lives here.”

Liar! 

The panic that settled like lead inside your gut dropped heavier, threatening to upend whatever was left from your morning breakfast. You didn’t have to guess what his plans were, because Kahn was laying them bare for everyone to see. The only difference between you and everyone else is that whoever he chose to sacrifice for the name of his ‘revolution’ would be met with silence. 

Captain Keyes outlined Kahn’s frame with suspicion and a pebble of hope was thrown your way. Maybe he could sense the lie that costed Kahn’s words. Maybe it would be enough for him to call bullshit. 

“Okay, Malcolm. And what is it you’re wanting?”

“I want nothing, Captain. I just want to show you exactly who you are looking for.” 

Kahn never intended to point the finger at himself - why would he when there were dozens of men brainwashed to think their sacrifice mattered. You followed his finger like everyone else drawn to the imaginary string he pulled and waited to see what poor fool he chose this time. 

Except this time - no…NO! 

It was your grandfather who took a step forward out of the dozens of bodies. The wooden tip of his cane met the ground with a depth of a shovel digging a grave with each step. Your grandmother reached out her arms - called for him to come back - but he continued to make his way forward. His head held high like he was making a decision everyone should be proud of. 

“I am Kahn Montrello. The man you seek.”

Captain Keyes took one look at your grandfather and you could see the disbelief reflected in his eyes. The way they darkened further on a decision you, or anyone else, would ever be made aware of until he made it. 

“I’ve never known an insurrectionist leader to give themselves up so willingly.”

Thank god Captain Keyes was smarter than he looked. Your grandfather, however, wasn’t backing down. He squared his shoulders and planted his hands coolly over the hilt of his cane. His head held high enough for his next words to strangle him. 

“Any leader should be willing to give themselves up for the safety of their people. Is that what you can offer me, Captain Keyes? The safety of my colony if I come willingly?”

“What are you doing?”

You were sure it was the panic that surged you forward. How you found yourself taking step after step until you were out from behind every last villager and into the clearing with Kahn and your grandfather. 

“Stay back!”

“Don’t take another step forward!”

You were vaguely aware of the commands being slung your way. The arms that lifted weapons as you took scrambling steps towards your grandfather who only looked on with distaste. 

“Go back with the others. I won’t tell you again.”

It was the voice he’d used countless times since you were a child. A voice that radiated with authority that now only showcased his age. A part of you wanted to follow his orders and run to your grandmother’s side. To be a good granddaughter and comfort her the way she needed. 

But she wouldn’t need comforting if Kahn wasn’t such a fucking coward. 

“No!”

He hissed your name as he nervously looked out over the marines. At Captain Keyes.

“Be good and do as you're told.”

“I won’t let you do this!”

“And I don’t need your permission-“

“What about grandma? You’re just going to leave her like this?”

“I wasn’t aware Kahn Montrello had grandchildren?” Keyes quipped. 

You could see your grandfather open his mouth to reply and you made sure to cut him off before he could say another lie. 

“That’s because he doesn’t because Kahn -“

“Apologies, Captain Keyes,” Kahn cut in. “This girl is unwell. Ever since she lost her parents -“

“Don’t you dare speak about them.“

“-she’s been desperately trying to cling to anyone willing to call her family.”

You weren’t aware you were moving forward until you heard the shouts from the marines; the gasps of fear from your own people. You were vaguely aware of the tingle of heat that moved like a shockwave from your fingertips up your arms until it consumed you. In another time, a different life, maybe you would’ve been aware that your biotics had flared to life and enveloped you in what looked like cobalt flame. 

A fitting image for the one Kahn so lovingly painted for you. An unhinged woman filled with crazy fantasies and a desperation for family.

The only thing you could focus on was Kahn who stood before you. The coward who easily was willing to give your grandfather up to the UNSC knowing what they do to insurrectionist leaders. The unspeakable torture done to collect secrets, and their executions televised on every available feed for all to see. 

With the thought of your grandfather’s future weighing behind your eyes you lashed out. Your hand rising forward to catch Kahn midway in taking a step back. Your biotics held him suspended in the air. You were vaguely aware of what sounded like your grandfather calling your name. The wood of his cane crunching through dirt and leaves to rush to you. 

There was more shouting - orders being relayed and metal clicks of safeties being released - and you knew chaos was about to ensue. 

“Spartan’s your orders are to grab the insurrectionist known as Kahn Montrello. Marines focus on providing backup and subduing any and all threats.”

A wash of relief rippled through you. The UNSC had come to their senses. They  must have realized Kahn for the liar he was. Captain Keyes caught on that the rouse Kahn created with your grandfather was all a lie. 

Except that wasn’t what happened. 

The marines who fanned out around the clearing were now moving in towards one sole target: you. The Spartans who Keyes sent forward to capture Kahn weren’t headed in your direction, but towards your grandfather who was visibly shaking as he watched two of the UNSC’s giants - their most powerful weapons - move towards him. 

“No! You have it all wrong! He isn’t Kahn!”

You released the hold you had on Kahn. No longer was he held suspended in the air as you sent his body flying towards the marines. Your feet were digging into the soil, pitching you forward in a hard sprint, as you barreled blindly towards your grandfather. You could hear him warning you to stay back - ‘stay away’ - but you never were good with doing what you were told. 

The closest Spartan,only identified by the numbers 028 on her chest, was almost on him. They were so close it would only take a couple more inches and this Spartan would grab a hold of him and you would lose him. Forever.

You were running on pure adrenaline. Your vision honed in on nothing else but the hand of the Spartan that reached out to grab at his arm. If they got a hold of him, that was it. You called on every cell of energy in your body, your arm drawing back - nerves frying - as the eezo inside your body compacted in the space around you, changing it into a powerful ball that you launched with a scream. The Spartan barely had time to react when the cobalt sphere of element zero slammed into her suit and sent her flying back. 

“Riz!”

You had a split second to make half a shield before the second Spartan’s fist slammed against it. The impact snapped like a shockwave of its own. The force of impact sent your feet sliding back against the dirt. The sound of heavy footsteps following your rolling body forced you to spring to your knees as you called on another surge of element zero and sent it flying like a fastball. 

It slammed into the Spartan but, unlike the first one, it barely slowed them down. The impact crackled against the air and the force field around his armor allowing your biotics to push them back only a few feet. It was all the feet you needed to scramble on all fours to your grandfather, who was kneeling in a heap in the dirt. 

As soon as you slide in next to him, you put up a small force field - a bubble of blue that encapsulated you both just in time before bullets bounced against the shield. Gently, you secured an arm underneath his shoulders and tried to lift him up to you. All while your right hand stayed pressed against the barrier you’d created. Your arms shaking with the strain of holding back another round of gunfire and the slamming fists of a very big, very angry, Spartan. 

You were running out of time. The strain of keeping the barrier up, of using powers you usually never touched, left a noticeable trail of perspiration to crown your forehead. If you kept this up much longer, you knew the nosebleeds would start soon. 

“Come on grandpa. We have to get up now. We gotta get you out of here.”

“Just let them take me, deheyah*.”

A heavy wave of memory, weighted with emotions thick and stifling, threatened to knock you off balance. The last time your grandfather had ever called you that, was before your parents died. When you were allowed the luxury of childhood innocence and the imagination that the world held the beauty of magic before it was destroyed by the gravity of reality. 

“That’s not going to happen, grandpa. I won’t let it happen. I can’t lose you too.”

Your body jerked with the next slam of a fist against the barrier. The impact sent a shutter down into the marrow of your bones and snapped at your nervous system. The pain was immediate and tore a gasp from you. 

“You will never lose me. I will always be with you. Wherever you go. Whatever you choose to be.”

“No.” 

You shook your head violently forcing him to reach out to steady you. The soft leather of his hand cupped your cheek quieting your protests and forced you to keep your eyes on him. 

“I’m sorry for what I said. Earlier. I just - I just wanted what was best for you. I always have. But…only you know what is best for your life. Never stop fighting. Don’t be afraid of who you can be.”

“Why are you talking like this? This isn’t goodbye grandpa. Come on, I have to get you back to grandma. She’s going to be pissed if you just stay here.”

But it was, wasn’t it? You’d felt it when your hands touched the layers of shawls that draped over his chest. It was wetter than it should’ve been. His eyes glassy and unfocused and struggling to keep them on you while he spoke. Somehow, you’d been a few moments too late when the bullets came your way, and those few seconds allowed the hollow point of a bullet to find a hole in the center of his chest. 

Blood covered your left hand as another sharp synopsis of pain resonated through your nervous system. Spartan 028, Riz, was back up and hammering away at the sphere of the barrier you’d created. The pain should’ve been unbearable but nothing compared to the last gasp of air that shuddered from your grandfather. It couldn’t compare to the feeling of his body, lifeless, and sagging towards the earth where the weight forced you to place him. 

None of this would’ve happened if Kahn wasn’t a coward. If he didn’t use people, the very people he claimed were his. People he swore to defend and liberate - for his own gain. 

The anger swelled brighter inside like a raging flame. Every beating your nervous system took holding up the barrier became a dulled sensation as you struggled to breathe around the loss of your grandfather. 

The Spartans had stopped but didn’t move back. A woman was off to your right. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Smiling like she was friendly but the mock kindness didn’t reach her eyes. They were bright with excitement; the way hunters spotted prey. A scientist finding a new object to dissect. 

“…I’m Doctor Halsey.”

Of course she was. She wanted to dissect you. The same way the scientists from Conatix tried many years ago by trying to buy you from your parents. She was saying your name but she had no right to it. 

This Dr. Halsey. 

False smile given under false pretenses. Just like Kahn has his fancy glittering speeches that kept hopes high and results low. 

“We don’t want to harm you. If you are willing to come peacefully we promise we will leave the colony immediately. No further bloodshed needs to happen.”

The part of you that wasn’t soaked in grief agreed. It was the best call to make - the right call. It promised no more suffering would happen. It meant your grandmother would be safe. 

Your grandmother. A woman who lost her son. Her husband. Now her granddaughter. Who would watch her if you left? The thought alone sprang a sharp refusal to your tongue until you stood, your eyes cast down at the warm body of your grandfather. In that moment, whatever reasonable human being you used to be ceased to exist. The only thing left was rage. 

Dr. Halsey must have noticed. No longer was she crouched to be eye level with you. She returned to her full height. Her hands placed out in front to shield herself, as if that would be enough to stop what happened next. 

“Whatever you’re thinking - don’t.” 

Your reply came in a scream that crawled its way from the pit of despair that had lodged itself inside your heart. The loss of your parents, the death of your grandfather,  and for your grandmother who would be alone. You used that hurt, bitterness, and rage and used it to erupt your shield into a burst of biotic energy that detonated like a bomb. The sheer force alone sent the Spartans back. 

It wasn’t enough but you only needed a minute or two. Just enough time for you to send your biotics crackling along the air in a line until it grabbed a hold of Kahn and pulled him like a slingshot of force back towards you. When he was close enough, you dropped your left hand that you’d use to control the pull of his body, and cocked back your right arm, your palm open, and launched it forward. The slam of the biotics hit home at the center of his chest launching Kahn back through the scrambling crowd of people, with the sickening crack of his sternum mixing with the scream that tore from your throat.

It was all the time you had before the Spartan marked with 117 came into view. His armored fist closes in like a warthog at full speed against your cheek, sending your body spiraling into the dirt. You could feel the earth shift with tremors as he moved to follow you. You could taste the blood from the hit and wondered if your jaw was broken. If you just lost a whole row of teeth. 

“John, Incapacitate her only! I need her to be brought back with us. Alive.”

For a glorious moment, your blurred vision swirled only with the uninterrupted view of the sky before the cameo green of Master Chief, savior of the galaxy - or John - 117 -  helmet came into view. A joke was brewing on the back of your tongue, covered in humor and blood before his fist came crashing down your line of sight, and the world became blissfully quiet.

_________

You found that the darkness wasn’t as quiet as you’d hoped.

The impact from the punch the Maater Chief, or John - 117 as that woman called him,  had launched you into what felt like a nightmare. Held hostage by a paralysis of your own mind. Unable to change the forms of what you saw. The images were vivid. The sounds carried a weight that sat heavy like lead in your skull. It made you miss the pain of being conscious. 

You weren’t sure if the screams that bounced around inside your head were real or if they were just a part of the nightmare. Over and over your broken mind played out the moment a Marine’s bullet found a hole inside  your grandfather's gut. 

No matter how fast you ran, if you launched yourself in front of him, you were never fast enough. Each step you took sunk deeper into the earth as if your legs were trying to race through quicksand. Your own biotics mysteriously grew quiet - refusing to work for the first time in your life. 

No matter what the outcome never changed. Your grandfather was gone, and there was no time travel to head back and change that startling fact. 

A sickening lurch, one you knew meant a ship was coming out of slipspace, sent the contents of that morning’s breakfast swirling in your stomach. You barely had time to register that it was real, the nausea, and that you were really about to throw up. You’d barely rolled to your side before said breakfast displayed itself onto a very shiny metal floor. 

As soon as you finished, you rolled back onto your back. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the fluorescent lights, the cool slated metal ceiling that matched the walls and floor. It was definitely a cell, and you most definitely found out much too late that your wrists were tied behind your back. 

When you were sure you weren’t going to upend anymore of your breakfast, you slowly began to maneuver to sit on the only bench they’d laid you on. The pain in the sockets of your shoulders informing you that you’d been like this for quite a while. 

You were still trying to gather your bearings when the sliding doors to your right opened. A woman with blonde hair stood at the forefront with a Spartan, the dusk green armor of John - 117, standing protectively behind her. When she moved, he moved. You couldn’t help but consider her a puppeteer and the Spartan the puppet. He didn’t move unless she did and you doubted he would be doing any of the talking. 

She entered the room with a cautionary smile and clinical eyes assessing you before she even entered. It was easy to tell she was a scientist and, more than likely, a very experienced one in whatever it was she specialized in. 

“Hello, Subject Cobalt,” she said brightly. Her smile never faltered once. “I’m glad to see that you are alright. My name is Doctor Halsey. I’ve come to do an assessment on you and make sure you didn’t sustain any life-threatening or mind altering issues after what happened back on Laconix.”

Subject Cobalt? 

Was that supposed to be you?

You eyed her warily as she took her first step inside the cell. The heavy footsteps of Mjolnir armor followed closely behind. If she suspected you were jumpy - a rabbit in headlights, as the old ones used to say - Halsey never showed it. 

A few more steps and she was beside the bench. Another breath and she was sitting beside you. The smile on her face beaming and hollowing out her eyes with rapture at what she must have considered a new species. You made a fine new specimen for any scientist, you would imagine. A nervous system full of eezo that lit your body up like an Earthen Christmas tree and the power to wield it like a weapon.

Doctor Halsey was practically giddy beside you. 

“I’m going to do a few simple tests to verify cognitive function isn’t impaired. To do so, I’m going to need your assistance. Do you think you could do that for me?”

Your eyes scanned over her as you considered your options. It turned out to be a very short list that was available to you. The only option being to go along with what she asked. 

“Okay.”

That one word was all the go ahead Halsey needed to cause her megawatt smile to go up a notch. She must have thought you would be resistant to following orders and she wasn’t wrong but, from where you were sitting, this seemed like the lesser of two evils. 

“Splendid. First, I’m going to run this pen horizontally and vertically. I need you to focus on the tip of the pen, and follow it as closely as you can.”

“Okay.”

Doctor Halsey lifted the pen up to eye level, a few inches away from your face, and waited for your eyes to train on the silver point. You hadn’t expected an examination as soon as you woke up. You weren’t sure if you should’ve felt happy or worried about it. If you were one misstep away from becoming a lab rat. 

You’d been so deep in thought - your mind considering all the outcomes and possibilities of this interaction ending well - that you completely missed her first question. 

“I’m sorry. Can you repeat the question?”

Another smile. Another deflection. It was enough, however, for you to notice the tightness in the fine lines of her face. It was so small you could’ve missed it. 

“Of course. During your biotic episode on Laconix, I noticed your nose started bleeding. Does it do that every time you use your biotics?”

“No.”

The tightness again. This time it was the edges of her smile - suspended in that mock sweetness - that reminded you of your mother. Waiting for you to give more detail without prodding and realizing, rapidly, you feared incriminating yourself. The pen dropped into her lap. Her eyes roaming over your face for a sign - a tell - that she could exploit. 

“You aren’t in any kind of trouble. I’m merely trying to help you -“

“Is that what you’re trying here, Dr. Halsey? To be my friend? To tell me I’m not in any danger when you took me off my planet against my will?” You inquired. Her mouth was still suspended open, forming around a word cut short by your desire to not hear anymore bullshit. “It feels like there is more going on than what you’re sharing.”

She schooled her face - even her eyes - to remain emotionless. A perfect blank slate to display only what she wanted without giving away what she didn’t. 

“Alright. I watched you. At first, you seemed in control, but after the third or fourth time your biotics displayed themselves, and you overextended their use, you suffered an epistaxis - the nosebleed. Further scans done here in the ship’s medical bay presented signs of swelling and hematoma on the brain. A few hours before you woke up, I had them run another analysis and both are gone. Which leaves me to believe it only occurs upon exhaustion.”

She watched you as she spoke. Her gaze searching, prodding, for signs of whatever reaction she expected but wasn’t getting. You would’ve loved to offer up whatever it was she wanted, if only you knew which specific one she was hunting for. 

“Tell me. Do you get migraines?”

“What is this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s a lie,” you shot back. 

The tone in your voice matched the anxiety rising in your chest. It caused your words to be rougher than intended, alerting the Spartan in the corner who took a step towards you. Only the rising hand of calm - control - from Dr. Halsey kept him from taking another step. 

“I think you understand more than you’re willing to tell me or, at least, not wanting to show your whole hand, anyway. You’re a scientist, right? Probably super smart. Smart enough you probably come from some UNSC lab  from Reach or Illium?”

“Reach.”

The carefully constructed smile was back on her lips, but this time you could see a spark of something brighten up the soft blue of her eyes. You were doing something she didn’t expect, but her scientific mind found it fascinating. No doubt logging it away to draw it open later somewhere quiet to dissect. 

Your lips pouted around her admission. Reach. One of the top three planets, if not the first, for all private and commercial research filled with legal litigation and NDA’s to protect organizations and UNSC labs from the courts of public opinions. It was how Conatix got away with doing what they did to you and the other kids scattered across the galaxy. Only taking notice when it seemed like something that could benefit them. You weren’t stupid. Halsey had taken one look at what you could do - what you did - and only two things came to mind: control or destroy. 

You hadn’t figured out exactly which one you were to Dr. Halsey yet. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

Halsey didn’t necessarily give you a reason to think it was an outlandish guess. Everything - everyone - was expendable when it came to science and the betterment of humanity. Or whatever the UNSC’s science team's new slogan was.

“Why would we kill you?”

You tried to shrug off the growing anxiety that sat coiling inside your gut.

“To experiment on me. Take me apart and see what’s buried underneath, so to speak. Isn’t that what you people do.”

“You don’t realize what you are, do you? The advancement of human genetics - biology - that is flowing through you.”

“What’s flowing through me is eezo and it cost hundreds of children their lives.”

“Yes, but for one out of a hundred children there is something remarkable. You. The one out of a thousand. A stepping stone towards humans having a place amongst the vast and ever growing populace of space. I don’t want to kill you, Cobalt. I want to integrate you into my program.”

“What program?”

You wondered if madness was contagious. If you asked anyone else, they might have dismissed your words as too harsh. No doubt calling Halsey’s display of excitement for simply that, but you could see her eyes. Underneath all that perfectly concealed pleasant exterior was an intelligence that was willing to break the norms - rules - to get to whatever she needed. 

“I run the Spartan program. Granted, you are well past the parameters to become a Spartan, no, I…I want to make a subunit. I think Cobalt, we can help each other, and not only help each other, but possibly end this war.”

UNSC propaganda. 

That’s what the war was. Everyone in the outer colonies knew it was just a fancy attempt to stop the growing surge of colonists from joining the insurrectionists. Halsey sensed your doubt before you disregarded her words with a shake of your head. 

“No. The covenant is just a UNSC nightmare story to try and get the outer colonies to toe the line. To allow themselves to be governed under your jurisdiction.”

“I can promise you. It’s not.”

“Of course you would say that! You’re a USNC scientist for Christ’s sake!”

“John.”

Somehow, you’d forgotten that big hunk of tin was in the room. Halsey kept you focused on her - solely on her - that when the Spartan took a step forward, the reflection of the room mirrored in his visor, you almost jumped out of your skin. 

In his hand was a holopad that he deposited into her waiting palm. Halsey didn’t waste time logging in. Her fingers tapped wildly across the screen with a speed that left you dizzy. When she found whatever it was she’d been looking for she extended the holopad out for you to take. 

“This was transmitted to us only a few hours ago.”

Warily, you watched her. Your mind debating if you should take the holopad or tell her to fuck off. It was more made up videos or fancy speeches, you were sure of it. The grim lines of her face, however, left you wondering just how certain you were. It was her turn to place the holopad in your hands. Your gaze on her a few more seconds before it dropped down to the video that played on the screen.

Bright beams. It’s what you noticed first. Beams that erupted from the sky with such brilliant clarity you knew it could only be one form: plasma. You couldn’t understand - comprehend - what you were seeing. 

Plasma on that scale was impossible. It should’ve been and yet, you watched as it sliced through the planet's barrier, through molecules, and simple things like trees and mountains. Everything it touched turned red hot like lava from volcanoes you’d heard stories about that were on the original human planet of earth. While the plasma beam continued its destructive course, the magma it left behind flowed behind. 

You didn’t understand until you did. 

You knew that mountain. You’d glanced at it many times on walks to neighboring villages for trade. Attempted to climb it a thousand times as a child. 

“What is this?”

Your disbelief was met with something you couldn’t place from her. Halsey didn’t offer up sympathy. She offered up an understanding of watching everything you love disappear in a wave of destruction. But how could she understand the hollowness, the sinking feeling of dread that gripped your heart and threatened to make it stop?

“It’s Laconix. Shortly after we left the Covenant arrived. They glassed the planet.”

“Glassed? I - I don’t. I don’t understand.”

You were going to hyperventilate if you weren’t careful. 

“It’s gone, Cobalt.” That’s not my name. “The Covenant doesn’t take prisoners. They destroy everything. Kill everything. Your planet is gone.” 

Gone. 

Gone. 

Your home. What was left of your family - your people - your community. Gone. In less than 7.8 seconds of holopad footage. 

“But you can avenge them. You can fight for them and to protect every other planet still left out there in the galaxy and I can help you do it.”

Deep down a part of you knew this had been her tactic all along. If reason didn’t make someone join your cause, then using their emotions against them would. You should’ve seen it coming. Took the time to ask more questions but the growing hole in your soul moved on from shock and grief was rocketing towards unbridled rage at lightning speed. 

When you glanced back up at her, Halsey knew she had you before you even spoke. 

“What do you need me to do?”

As always, thank you so much for reading. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

[morganas-pendragons]

the night will be over soon | the master chief

I have used this title before. Don't judge me. And I also remember approximately none of Halo Four, so forgive me if some of the nods to that in this are not accurate LOL

Anyway, this is for @empresskadia -- the whole plot is entirely her idea. I just saw it and went ''oh I could kill writing this'' so here I am! hurt/comfort incoming! I just changed a tiny bit of this to match the overall idea I was going for here.

@embarrassedauthornerd @lialacleaf

***

Things are out of focus. Blurry. Hard to remember. The only things that John can recall are the hue of Cortana outside the pod, the cold, and the darkness.

And your screaming. It was the last thing he recalled when The Arbiter pulled you towards him - a silent request from The Master Chief to keep you safe that he somehow understood - as The Forward Unto Dawn split in two.

It's been four years. John is very accustomed to it now. The dark, the cold, the dreams. At least the dreams are pleasant.

Your reality, however? Not so much.

They start you off with the augmentations. You can barely believe you've made it here, conscripted to be a Spartan Four.

You hadn't even met the majority of Blue Team until they'd intercepted you on The Infinity not long after you had been brought aboard. Kelly knew who you were almost immediately upon reading your file. Blue hadn't even met you yet. She'd heard rumors about your involvement with the Chief, and due to intimately knowing John's heart, she'd taken it upon herself to be your silent guardian.

John had lost enough. He didn't need to lose the one person he genuinely loved.

"You think this is the one?"

"Oh yeah," Kelly and Fred looked upon the digital file of your face in the debrief room of the Infinity. All of the data in your file pointed to you being heavily involved with The Master Chief and the Arbiter during the Human Covenant War. "That's them."

Lasky had been the one to convince you to stay. You were content to just.. disappear. It would've been easier to deal with John being gone if you just went away inside.

Dreams were more pleasant than reality. And they most often reared their ugly head when you were in the midst of the augmentations.

You remember many a night that Cortana had drawn you to his quarters when he was in the throes of a nightmare. It was fortunate you were a light sleeper anyway, because the only way you knew it was her was the incessant beeping and your door to your own quarters suddenly opening without anyone on the other side.

"Cortana?"

Nothing. You slowly got out of bed and followed the blue lights that illuminated the darkened hallway until they stopped to blink repeatedly at John's door. You paused. He was still always so hesitant to be vulnerable around you. John was not a man of words, but often actions, and being able to spill his raw and aching heart onto the floors of his bedroom is.. incomprehensible. He doesn't think himself capable of it.

You'd never forget how he looked there. Bathed in moonlight, head in his hands, desperately trying to control his uneven breathing and racing heart.

You silently approached from the doorway, settling down on your knees in front of him to take his hands into your own. You knew better than to believe he wasn't aware of your presence from the moment you'd come to the door.

Hands at your lips, you kiss each of The Master Chief's scarred knuckles, your eyes never leaving his. There's an echo of a song lingering in the humming that follows. It's familiar. Comforting. He hadn't known you could sing.

The softness there in your eyes - the humanity, something that you had been reminding him that he was capable of - was what made it just a little bit easier for John to breathe.

And brought the whole world back into focus.

***

They augment you. You become accustomed to the sound of your own screaming. You become accustomed to pain, and fear, and a deeply rooted desire to do for others what John had been doing for you for so long.

You ache for being protected. You ache for the solace of John, of his arms, of being home again. But home had disappeared four years ago. There was no going back to it.

Being a Spartan obligated you to be complacent in a world of bloodshed and war.

so much for keeping that humanity.

You familiarize yourself with the trigger. Grow used to pulling it, grow used to taking orders, grow used to excelling and succeeding. You struggle at first. They tell you that you aren't built for this. You know you aren't.

You push yourself harder. For John. To honor him.

However, little known to you, you're being watched by three guardian angels. The entirety of Blue Team has taken it upon themselves to ensure your safety. It's their way of honoring their fallen brother.

The last thing you're expecting is for them to approach you. It's well into the night, and you're running sims for the fourth hour in a row when it suddenly shuts down and you find yourself face to face with three Spartan Two's.

You jump to stand at attention. "Sir! Ma'am!"

All three remove their helmets and flash identical looks. They almost look like they're scolding you. "You don't need to salute. Not us. We're not the Chief," The male remarks playfully. "But you know that, don't you?"

"Everyone knows who you are." You reply as you point at each of them. "Fred-104, Kelly-087, and Linda-058. You're legends. What on Earth do you want with me?"

"It's not what we want," Linda interjected. "It's what you've given. We know."

Every cell of your body froze. You struggled to swallow as your blood ran cold, the memory of John's hands in your own and his lips at the crown of your head flashing at the forefront of your memory. Such a precious thing.. memories. They often make their way into your dreams.

"What do you want?" You repeated.

"We don't think John is dead. And since we don't think that, we've taken it upon ourselves to succeed in our self-appointed mission." Fred pointed a single finger at you. "Keeping you safe. Training you to be the best of the new Spartans, because we want you to be able to survive our world so you can see John again."

***

Time passed, and you left with Blue until you were called back to the Infinity. That was Fred's doing. Lasky had approved the transfer almost immediately. You found camaraderie with them. A unit.

And they did exactly what they said they would: Protected you, trained you to learn how to adapt to their world. You got good at it.

The better you got at being a Spartan, the more of your humanity you had to lose.

No one told you when John came back. No one told you when he came back, and Cortana came back, and it felt like all the air was sucked right from your lungs when Del Rio ordered you into the bridge and you found yourself staring at them both.

The memory of a night bathed in moonlight flashed before your eyes once again as you lifted your visor to meet the gold one across from you. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and all words escape you, but you can't bring yourself to look away from him.

"Master Chief," You say as firmly as possible. John is your superior officer, after all. "It is good to see you, sir."

He's beautiful. Beautiful, and here, and alive.

***

Cortana had to remind him three times that it wasn't a dream. That you were standing in front of him in Spartan armor, and that the person he'd left behind all those years ago was most definitely not the same one he was looking at now.

When you removed your helmet, his heart sank. There was a new scar on your face. Your eyes were hardened as you stood at attention for Lasky and Del Rio. What had you seen? What had you been through?

"Master Chief? We have a mission for you."

Why hadn't he been there to protect you from it?

***

Gone.

She's gone.

He trudges back to the Infinity with a heavy step and an even heavier heart after The Didact is defeated. There is nowhere to go, and no one to turn to, so The Master Chief finds himself in front of the windows overlooking the planet.

It's not the planet he's paying attention to. It's the moon.

"Chief."

Nothing. He should be paying attention because he's still required to be a soldier, but The Master Chief is very far away.

And it's usually you who ends up bringing him back.

"John." The desperate, quiet nature of the voice pleading with him to come back is what drew The Master Chief from his reverie. He's still in his armor, and the armor is the most protection he's had in four years, but the thought of being able to find sanctuary with you again is what caused him to turn around. You reached out with a waiting hand. "The night cycle will be over eventually. C'mon."

He allowed himself to be led into the darkness of your quarters aboard The Infinity. The moment that you both recognize that you're alone, you turn toward John and hesitantly reach your hands upward. He knows what this means. The two of you used to do this quite often.

John tipped his head forward, at your mercy, and allowed you to remove his helmet. Part of him was nervous that you would no longer want him the same way. That he was damaged goods.

But that hardened look he'd seen on the bridge is gone now, replaced by a gentle reverence illuminated by the moon outside as you whisper, "There you are. My Master Chief."

***

You can see the despair in his eyes the longer he traced the scars you'd obtained. John lay at your side, a singular finger tracing across your shoulder blades where the largest of the augmentation scars was.

"I should've been here. You should've never had to endure this." John confessed quietly. You didn't respond. Just the fact he was speaking his own thoughts out into the open was enough to keep you silent. His wounds are fresh. On display. With Cortana gone, and your own suffering he had not kept you from, you could tell that he blamed himself for all that had happened.

You shivered as his fingers traced the line of your hip before coming up to cup your jaw, turning your head toward him. He seemed to be most devastated about the scar on your face.

"Do you..." You swallowed the knot in your throat and leaned into the warmth of his palm. "Do you want me to tell you?"

There's a lot to tell him. A lot that you're hesitant to tell him because he carried his own demons and his own regrets and shortcomings like it was his own personal cross to bear.

So you tell him something better instead.

"I met Blue," You slide down the bed and tuck your head under his chin, wrapping both arms around his frame. "They ended up being my silent guardians for those first few years. Said they wanted to honor you by protecting me. Ended up being the primary ones who trained me" You laugh softly. "Maybe that's why I've made such a good Spartan."

Little known to you, one of the first things John had done upon returning to The Infinity was request your transfer to Blue Team. He hadn't anticipated that Kelly, Fred and Linda would find you first, much less train you.

He never wanted you to be like him. To be a soldier, to be a machine. You were too good for that. Too soft. Too human.

This wasn't what you were meant for.

Enveloped in your arms, The Master Chief slowly rubs circles into the base of your neck as your body falls limp in his embrace. He's humming something low under his breath. A song he'd forgotten he'd ever heard. It sounded like it was a memory.

Or maybe a dream.

Never mind the darkness

Never mind the storm

Never mind the blood red moon

The night will be over soon....

Hopefully your dreams are less tainted with red then his are.

[lialacleaf]

The Chief And The Intern

Chief x Reader

Was Waiting All Along

It had been months since you had heard from John. Life hadn’t been the same since you’d gone back to finish your last semester of your master degree. University used to excite you, but after having run around the galaxy with the UNSC, being in actual danger, you felt bored.

Your friends noticed the difference when suddenly you were unavailable to go to the mall, and more interested in visiting the firing range.

Your mother almost fainted when she learned you’d taken up a martial arts class in your spare time. Your grades weren’t suffering, so you didn’t exactly see the problem.

Your father had pestered you every day to submit your application to his company, but the only place you’d sent your application was the UNSC’s board of communications.

You were going to find John, and the rest of Blue Team. You couldn’t just submit to the life your parents wanted for you, even if you’d be monumentally disappointing them.

You were scrolling through your laptop in your little dormitory when you saw it. You’d been scrolling through emails for hours, each rejection letter making your heart sink further and further when you saw it.

“We would like to receive your application for our recently opened clerical assistant position.”

It wasn’t exactly what you wanted to be doing but there was one little phrase that caught your eye.

“Reporting to Spartan Lieutenant 104”

There was no way. Fred had found you? How in the world had he managed that? You took a quick glance over the email before following the provided link to submit your application and cover letter.

“You did what?” your father asked as you silently cut into your steak.

“I applied to the UNSC, and I got in. I’m leaving after the graduation ceremony,” you stated firmly.

“But what about the job your father lined up for you at his company! You’re just going to throw that away? I can’t imagine the UNSC is going to pay someone very much for communications work,” your mother rambled frantically as she set her fork down.

Family diners in your parent’s penthouse were always tense, but this was another ball park entirely.

“It’s clerical work actually,” you muttered.

“Yn! What are you thinking!” your mother asked.

I’m thinking there’s a very handsome space soldier up there waiting for me. I’m thinking I’m tired of being coddled at thirty two years old.

“It’s a good opportunity. Free travel, important connections-“

“It’s unsafe!”

“Nowhere is safe Mom!” You said, slamming your knife on the table. “I’m tired of pretending that Sydney is safe just because it makes you feel better to have me at arm's length,” you said, standing from your place at the table.

“You’re not going to survive out there, yn,” your father scoffed.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have before, but things are different now. I’m not changing my mind on this.”

Your parents didn’t come to your graduation ceremony. You noticed that their chairs were empty as you lined up to walk across the stage.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth. You were being punished for not doing what you were told. Despite having argued with them, you’d at least wanted them to attend.

You tried to smile for the pictures as you walked across the stage, but it didn’t feel real. After the ceremony you packed your suitcases and left your dorm for the shuttles.

What if John wasn’t waiting for you anymore? What if you got up there and he’d moved on entirely?

You felt your throat tighten as you neared the pickup and your legs began to shake.

Were you making a mistake? Could you still turn around? Your parents would never respect you if you did.

You shook your head, silencing these thoughts as you loaded onto the shuttle. This wasn’t just about John. You were doing this for yourself as well.

“Wasn’t she supposed to be here already?”

Fred didn’t bother answering the question, knowing full well that if he told John the cargo ship was running late he’d probably grab a rifle and a ship and go out looking for you himself.

Six months wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough to make the Master Chief miss you so much he could hardly breathe.

“She’ll get here when she gets here,” Fred said with a shrug as they waited in the cargo hold.

“She’ll probably be hungry, we should take her to the mess. She’s probably forgotten how to get there,” Kelly said, admittedly excited to see you again.

When the intercom finally announced the arrival of your ship, Blue Team sprung into action. John searched the faces of deboarding passengers for you, feeling a sense of panic until your smaller figure appeared, hauling two large suitcases.

He froze all of a sudden, willing his feet to move but unable to do so. He’d never felt this way before. Never had to hesitate, and yet he felt as if his stomach was doing summersaults.

Your eyes finally settled on him, and your feet halted.

Six months. Had anything changed?

You moved first, your hands abandoning their grip on your bags as you ran to him. Time seemed to catch up with the Spartan all of a sudden, and he barely registered that you had flung yourself towards him in time to bend forward and wrap his arms around your waist, hauling you in for a tight hug that squeezed the breath right out of you.

You buried your face in the Chief’s shoulder and sighed, the smell of gunpowder and cinnamon a sure sign that you were home.

“How’d you find me?” You murmured into his shoulder.

“Wasn’t that hard. Had some connections keeping an eye out for you. Ready to get back to work?”

He asked, setting you down as Fred and Kelly retrieved your bags. Linda gave you a firm pay on the shoulder in greeting.

This was exactly what you needed. Blue Team’s support, the promise of adventure on the horizon, and the Chief’s arms around you.

“As I’ll ever be,” you declared with a grin and the Spartan smiled softly at you. He had you back, and this time he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

Tag List: @discowizard88 @laurenstacy610 @amaraohara @starchaser-the-prophet @embarrassedauthornerd @117s-girl

[short-honey-badger]

Shore Leave 5

Holy moly, did this one get away from me. Lotta stuff happens in this one, and we are introduced to the "antagonist." I guess you could call him.

Anyway! I hope you enjoy!

Shore Leave Masterlist

You wake with a soft groan, blinking your eyes open as you shift in your bed. You snuggle into your pillow and frown when the clothes you wear tug uncomfortably against the blankets. You never wear this many clothes to bed, so why are you now? Mortification burns through you when the memories of last night fly through your mind, and you scramble out of your bed, embarrassed beyond belief. How could you have fallen asleep so quickly last night? You were no stranger to late nights, and had thought you'd have the willpower to stay up.

You cringe to yourself. John must feel so awkward.

You slip from the bed and quickly change clothes, leggings, and a loose blouse with your cow print house shoes. You wash your face and brush your teeth and then bend to fish out a new toothbrush for John to use if he wanted to. Now that you feel refreshed, you slipped out of your bedroom and into the living room where you were greeted with the adorable sight of your new friend curled up on the couch.

The large man had to curl up a bit to comfortably fit, but he looked so at peace that you didn't have the heart to disturb him. Instead, you quietly bypassed John and mosied into the kitchen to start on a hearty breakfast. Your fridge needed to be cleared out anyway.

The Master Chief woke to the smell of sizzling bacon and eggs. His blue eyes sprang open, and he bolted up, heart racing as he took in the unfamiliar environment. He relaxes when he recognizes your living room and slumps even further into the cushions when his sensitive ears pick up the sound of you singing. A tiny smile lingers on his lips, and John is tempted to fall back to sleep now that he knows that everything is fine.

A big fluffy orange tail gets his attention, and John leans down to pet Nami, who purrs thunderously at the attention. He scratches her for a while before he eases up from the couch and lopes to the bar that separates the kitchen and living room. John watches you cook, your shoulders drooped and relaxed as you sing a slow song under your breath and flip the Japanese style omelet gently back and forth in the pan. Beside you, there are two plates with seasoned, white rice and thick cuts of bacon and two glasses full of pulpy orange juice.

“Play the guitar, play it again, my Johnny

Maybe you're cold, but you're so warm inside.”

You sway gently to the beat only you can hear, humming the next part of the song as you finish up rolling the omelet. You pick up the pan from the stove eye and scoot to the plates where you lay the fluffy eggs across the mountain of rice.

“But if you're cruel, you can be kind, I know

There was never a man like my Johnny.”

You place the pan back on the stove, turning down the heat, and then grab the heavy plate, turning to go set the food on the bar and then go wake John for breakfast. Only to have the man in question staring at you from where he is already seated at the bar. You jump at the sight, and only the hard grip you have on the plate saves the ceramic dishware from the floor. You clutch your chest with your other hand and glare at John.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You grumble at him and set breakfast in front of the big man.

The grin that John wears is all worth the little jump scare when you catch sight of it. It looks more free than the tiny smiles and smirks that he'd given you last night. You wouldn't mind seeing more of it.

“Maybe you should pay more attention,” John quips at you and takes the fork from your outstretched hand. You roll your eyes at him and smack his fork away when he goes to dig into the omelet you'd slaved over.

“Hang on. Hopefully, this works,” you murmur and then take the knife you hold and slice the fluffy eggs down the middle. John thinks that your little coo of joy is the most adorable sound when you watch the omelet split open perfectly, allowing the steaming cheesy eggs to spill out. The smile you aim at him is even better.

“Bon appetit.”

John does it with gusto, and you turn away from the ravenous eating to fix up your own plate with the leftover egg mixture. The spartan is finished by the time you are plating your breakfast, and you are much slower in how you eat, savoring each bite and drinking deeply from your cup of coffee. You tell John to help himself to whatever is left in the pot and then point out the bathroom, and make sure to mention the new toothbrush you'd set out for him.

John does as suggested, draining his cup quick as a flash and then loping to the bathroom to wash up. You finish up and then wash up the dishes before settling on the couch and picking up your data pad left on the end table. Nami joins you on the couch, curling up on the arm and looking at you with big green eyes.

“You like him, too, huh?” You ask her with a grin and scratch behind her ears, making the fluff ball purr even louder.

You flip through a couple of articles and stop when your eyes catch sight of one of them highlighting a new exhibit at the local zoo. You grin as an idea comes to mind and set the tablet aside when John comes out of your bedroom.

“I've got an idea for a trip if you're up for it?” You ask him when he sits beside you on the couch. You grunt in surprise when the Chief suddenly grabs you around the waist and tugs you close, pressing you to his side before he dips and claims your lips in a kiss as sweet as pie.

John has been wanting to kiss you all morning. He is pretty sure he'd dreamed of you last night, the delicate press of your lips along his scarred skin. The curtain of your hair shields the two of you away from the outside world as you sat atop him.

His cheeks heat up at the reminder, and his hand finds the curve of your waist, squeezing gently before he pulls away, resting his brow along your own. John opens his eyes and meets your own, his lips curled in a smug smirk that makes you roll your eyes when you spot it.

“What kind of trip?” He asks you and boldly shifts again, lifting you as though you weigh nothing and sits you fully in his lap. His thumb swipes back and forth on the bit of exposed skin from where your shirt has risen up, and he leans back to rest against the cushions.

Your cheeks blaze at being moved as if you were nothing but a doll, and your thighs tingle from where they are pressed on either side of John's long legs. You lick your lips and force your mind to get back on track and not think of just how big the Master Chief is.

“W-well, there is a new exhibit opening at the zoo. I thought it would be fun for us to go.”

The Chief stalls in his tracks. The zoo? He's never had the chance to go to one before. He is silent as he recalls the last time he'd been even close to one and frowns when his memory provides him with images of destroyed animal enclosures, glassed over by the covenant. He comes back to himself when you wrap your hand around his free wrist and squeeze softly.

“I would like that,” He assures you and smooths his hand down so that he can tangle his fingers with your own. He raises his hand and presses his lips to the back of your knuckles, watching your eyes go half lidded in pleasure and wonders if you would look how you did in his dream. If only he had the nerve to touch you so confidently.

“Though I would like to stop by base to change, if you are okay with waiting for me?”

You nod easily, “Of course I'm fine with waiting.”

You wish you had the courage to ask if he wanted to stay with you through his shore leave, but you'd hate to come off as clingy, so you stay silent about it, and instead try and shimmy off his lap to no avail.

“I've got to get ready, ya know.” You point out, but John only shrugs at you and untangles his hand from your own so that he can cup your jaw in his big palm. He casts his blue-eyed gaze over you, smoothing his thumb up to slide over your bottom lip.

“I know, but I'd like to try something,” he says, and you dip your head in silent permission when he meets your eyes. His thumb puts pressure down, and you allow your mouth to fall open. John leans in and kisses you, his tongue sliding past your lips to tease your own pink muscle and explore the hot cavern of your mouth. You keen into the intimate kiss, not having expected him to do such a thing, but not unhappy about it. Instead, you push forward lips wrapping around his tongue and gently sucking on the muscle, causing a deep groan to rumble out of the Master Chief.

John isn't sure how long he kisses you, but he doesn't have any intention of stopping. He wants to know what other sounds you might make for him. The spartan isn't used to letting his more carnal desires take over, but he would gladly drop all his walls if he could know what you taste like.

Your lips are red and swollen by the time you have to break the heated exchange. Your stomach is tight with arousal, and you can feel his hardening length between your legs. You want to see it, but you close your eyes and take a deep, calming breath instead. You fall forward and rest your face against his chest, and John wraps his arms around you, making you feel like the safest person in the galaxy.

“I still need to get ready,” you mumble against his chest but make no move to get up. John just tightens his grip and presses his lips to the crown of your head.

Eventually, the two of you rise, and you hop in the shower just long enough for your normal routine before drying off and dressing in a pair of worn jeans and a nice shirt. Your tennis shoes are next since so much walking is in your future, and then lastly your bag and phone. John watches you lock the door after saying goodbye to Nami and then follows you outside and to the sidewalk.

It's a good thirty minute walk to the base that he is stationed at, and you have to assure him that you don't mind the journey multiple times. He keeps a close eye out while the two of you walk, his training kicking in even when he is supposed to “forget” who he is for these next two weeks. John wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let something happen to you.

“You can wait in the lobby,” He says when you arrive at the large, dark stone building. You nod silently and follow him through the automatic doors, feeling a bit nervous coming inside. You've never had a reason to come here before, after all.

John leaves you waiting in a chair near the entrance of the building, and you flip through your datapad as you wait. You are interrupted soon after by a harsh clearing of the throat. You look up and see a man dressed in a crisp uniform, his face clean shaven and his dark hair cut at regulation. You can spot tattoos looping through his shorn hair. He is handsome like most military men are, his green eyes dark and full of curiosity.

“Can I help you with anything ma'am?” He asks, and his tone is friendly despite the permanent scowl on his face.

“No, but thank you, Sir. I'm just waiting on a friend,” you say with a smile and expect him to leave you be, only for the marine to sit down beside you and offer his hand.

“Major Dwight Baroque. It's nice to meet you, miss..?”

You shake his hand with a strained smile and introduce yourself quietly.

“May I ask who you're waiting for?” The Major says, and you answer slowly and realize that you only know John's first name. You'd never asked for anything else, though that was kind of the goal at the moment. You wanted John to feel human for once in his life.

“Ah, well. His name is John. I didn't ask, and he didn't tell me his rank or anything,” you say, a bit embarrassed about it now that you think about it.

The soldier chuckles and sits back in the seat, “Do you mind if I wait with you? Pretty women like yourself shouldn't be left alone for too long, ya know.”

You laugh and shift awkwardly in your seat and wish that John would hurry up and get out here. While you appreciated everything that the UNSC did, that didn't mean that you wanted one of them to flirt with you so badly.

“I'm sure you've got better things to do than babysit me,” you say and look up just in time to spit John stalking toward you, a deep scowl darkening his face when he spots the Major beside you.

“Actually, John is here now.”

You don't expect the marine to look at John and his face transform into something so rage filled that it's ugly. You gulp when the Major glares at you next, but your own angered confusion raises its head at his words.

“That's John? You know he's a freak right?”

You blink at him, jerking your head back as if you'd been struck. You stand from your chair, voice furious, “Excuse me?”

Baroque scoffs loudly and stands as well. He still looks tiny compared to John when the other man gets to your side. The Chief stands just behind you and reaches out to place a big hand on your shoulder, “_, just let it go. It's not worth it.”

“What? No. I want to know why he thinks you're a freak,” you snap back, incensed at the lack of fight in John's voice. Why wasn't he defending himself?

“Didn't he tell you what he was?” Dwight continues, and his tone turns smug, as if what he would say next would change your option about your new friend.

“He's a Spartan. Everything that he is came out of a bottle. He's nothing but a science experiment.”

You feel John tense behind you, his grip on your shoulder tightening to the point of pain. You bear it with grace and glare at the smug Major.

“Well, now I know why he's so tall, at least.” You quip and reach up to curl your hand around his wrist, squeezing tightly to get the Spartans' attention. You aim a grin his way and tug his arm.

“Let's go, John. We shouldn't waste any more time.”

The Major seems flabbergasted at your lack of care over John being a spartan, but he quickly turns outraged and moves to step forward. John sees the way he goes to grab you and bodily moves you, putting himself in the way of the Major and glaring down at his superior officer.

“Have a good day, Major,” he growls and then escorts you out of the building before the other man could cause any more of a scene.

You huff and puff as soon as you are out of the building, an annoyed scowl on your face as you call the Major mean names under your breath. John watches you, and his heart lurches in his chest. You had stood up for him. You hadn't even cared that he was a spartan.

He doesn't stop himself from closing the distance and sweeping you up for a kiss, hands landing on your hips, and holding you close until he pulls away with a soft sigh.

“Thank you,” He whispers, and you shake your head with a small frown.

“You shouldn't have to thank me for showing you the same kind of kindness any human deserves. That guy was an idiot, and you should never listen to people like him. You are a hero, John.”

The Master Chief doesn't know what to say to all that, so he just kisses you again, and you can feel how relieved and happy he is knowing that you don't give a damn about what he is. His blue eyes shine when he pulls away, and then he leads you in the direction of the nearest bus transport.

“We should go before it's too late. I want to see everything,” John says, and you laugh in joy as you follow after him.

“Sounds good to me! Let's go!”

[writeforfandoms]

Warrior Song 15

Find the series masterlist

Well, we made it to the end of this fic. This is not the last I'll write of Master Chief, but I may take a break for a bit. I think I managed to wrap up everything with this last chapter, but if you have any lingering questions, I'd love to hear them!

Now, let's get this lot squared away, shall we?

Warnings: Swearing, mention of injuries, little bit of politics, everything will be okay.

Word count: 2.7k

By the time you caught up to John, there were a group of Sangheili walking towards him. He didn't have a weapon in hand, so you figured it was safe enough. 

“Master Chief,” the one in front greeted, silvery armor different from what you were used to seeing. “It has been a long time.”

“Arbiter.” Chief inclined his head, ever so slightly. 

“You are a difficult man to find.” 

Chief just shrugged. You held back your laughter. 

“How did you find us?” Fernando joined you on your other side, subtly bracing you to help you get weight off your injured leg. 

“There was unusual slipspace activity,” Arbiter said calmly. “Whoever was controlling the computer was sloppy - pieces fell through, and from them we were able to determine the coordinates of this weapon.” 

You blinked. You’d gotten probably half of that, but you were also exhausted, so. Whatever. 

“We have injured,” Chief cut in, fortunately not looking down at you. “Limited supplies.”

“I have enough to share,” Arbiter agreed easily. “I will summon aid as well from the nearest human ships. In the meantime, you must tell me what happened here.” 

Chief nodded once, taking a step forward. Kelly (who had appeared from nowhere and nearly gave you a heart attack) ushered you and Fernando away, more or less gently. 

“Kelly, what–?” You started to ask, frowning.

“You are supposed to be resting,” she reminded you. “I could always carry you.”

You huffed but didn’t object further. Okay. Fine. So she was right. But you wanted to know what was going on!

Somehow you ended up back in bed, pouting, a tray of food on your lap and Kelly making sure you and Fernando both ate. (Fernando opted to sit on the floor.) 

After the third time you huffed at your food, Kelly huffed back at you. 

“Keep that up and I won’t ask Fred for updates.”

You pouted harder but ate in silence. 

Vaguely, you could hear the camp buzzing around you, excited voices and the stomp of feet and movement all combining into one continuous drone. You’d bet news of the Sangheili ships had spread fast. Or maybe they’d heard about the human ships coming to aid too? How long would that take? How long had you been asleep, even? Long enough for Arbiter to arrive, clearly, but how long had that taken? 

“Stop thinking,” Kelly advised, poking your cheek. 

“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled. And then paused. 

Welp. You were dead. 

Kelly huffed a tiny laugh. “So the explosion did knock the sense out of you,” she teased. 

You had no defense for that, so you just hunkered down in your bed, ears burning. At least you weren’t as sore today, though probably still some level of dehydrated. Your thigh was definitely the worst of your injuries still. 

“Why did you blow up Atriox?” 

The sudden question from Fernando startled you, and you blinked rapidly as you refocused on him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time? And, I mean, it’s not like he was friendly.”

Fernando shook his head. “No, I know that, but why you?”

Oh. That was the issue. You swallowed, looking down at the blanket pulled up over your lap. “It’s not like I sat there and debated the pros and cons,” you started slowly, picking at a loose thread. “It just… happened. I was there. I had a grenade. Nobody else was close enough, and he was doing something, and I couldn’t think of any other way to stop him.” 

Fernando perched next to you, taking one of your hands in his, ducking his head a little to meet your gaze. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you got out okay, yeah?” 

You sniffled once, hands starting to shake. “Only because of John,” you whispered, shaking your head a little. “It was dumb, but I couldn’t do nothing.”

Fernando wordlessly pulled you into him, one hand patting your back gently but a little awkwardly as you fought back tears. 

“Here. Tea.” Kelly nudged you, ever aware of her strength, holding a mug until you took it. Fernando looked a little relieved, honestly. You couldn’t blame him. 

“Any idea how long things will take?” You took a sip of the tea. A little bland, but warm and soothing. 

Kelly shrugged, a monumental shift of broad shoulders. “Arbiter is chatty. Could be a while. Longer for ships to arrive.” 

Naturally. You made a face but didn’t protest, just drinking your tea. You still felt unsteady, like thinking too hard about anything might tip you out of balance again. Logically, you knew you shouldn’t be surprised - you’d had a harrowing experience that was going to stay with you for a long time.

But logic was hard to come by when you were busy wrestling your emotions back under control. 

The quiet was almost too much, after the stress of the last few days. But it was good, too - at least it meant there wasn’t any further excitement. Against your will, your head started to dip, eyelids growing heavy. The quiet was also very good for making you sleepy, at least when you were running on so little sleep. 

Fernando pushed you to take a nap, promising he’d wake you when something happened. 

So when you did wake up, bleary and confused, to someone sitting next to you, you thought it was Fernando.

“Go back to sleep,” John murmured, voice low and rough. A heavy arm settled over your waist as John laid down behind you, already dressed down.

“What happened?” you asked, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Nothing yet.” He breathed out slowly, tickling the back of your neck. “Sleep.”

You huffed half-heartedly. You wanted more answers. But the furnace-like heat of him was soothing, his even breathing lulling you back to sleep before you could voice a complaint. 

You woke next time over-warm, restless and finally alert again. It took a bit of doing to get out from under John’s arm, but you did it. 

Only to find him awake, lips twitching with the barest of smiles, eyes bright with amusement. You dropped your head, torn between embarrassment and amusement. 

“How long have you been awake?” 

“Long enough.” He didn’t move, just watching you. 

“Good, you can catch me up on everything that I missed yesterday.” You sat up carefully, mindful of your bruises and aches. 

John shrugged, looking up at you while still reclined. “Nothing interesting.”

“Nothing interesting?” Your eyebrows shot up. “Somehow I doubt that.” 

John shrugged again, though his lips twitched. He knew exactly what he was doing. “Arbiter has agreed to give us aid,” he said, either taking pity on you or deciding not to test your patience. “UNSC ships are on the way, but it’ll take time for them to get here.”

You nodded, not quite sure how you felt about that. You’d been away for so long, and then this Halo had become its own kind of existence. You didn’t know what would happen after this, anxiety rising at all the possibilities parading through your mind. 

You breathed in slowly. You didn’t need to have all the answers right now. You were okay. You had time. 

John was watching you, though he didn’t reach for you. He just watched. 

You managed a little smile. “Breakfast?” Sure, you did both need to eat, but also you needed out of this conversation and out of your head. 

That got him moving, and it wasn’t long until the two of you were walking to get food. Your thigh ached, forcing you to go slower than normal, but you grit your teeth and worked through it. John didn’t offer to carry you, which was good because you probably would have hurt yourself smacking him. 

It was odd to see Sangheili around the base, standing taller than most everybody else. They kept out of the way, mostly, though a few of them had humans with them. You couldn’t hear the conversations, but you imagined mostly it was to do with supplies. Probably. 

John still attracted stares, as always, and you could just hear murmurs rippling through camp about the encounter with the Endless. How anybody knew, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t sure you cared to find out. It didn’t really matter, anyway. Soldiers were terrible gossips, so the story was bound to get around and probably even grow. 

But he wasn't the only one attracting stares.

You finally caught on when someone ahead of you in the chow line actually stopped and turned to look at you. Not at John. At you. 

“John,” you whispered, gaze flitting from person to person, uncertain. 

“Ignore them,” he muttered, gaze flicking down to yours before he gently nudged you forward. 

You frowned but didn't say anything more, just getting your food and then finding an empty table. The stares bothered you though, in a way they never had when it was just John people stared at. 

And then Fred plopped down next to you, making the bench shudder under his sudden weight, the bulk of him blocking most of the rest of the room from your view. The arm he threw over your shoulders helped. 

“Good to see you awake,” he rumbled, flashing you a smile. 

“Thanks.” You relaxed, finally doing more than just poking at your food. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, not much.” Fred smirked down at you. “Just that you became a legend.”

You choked on your bite of food. There were several moments of flurry as both Spartans tried to help, until you were no longer choking. “What?” You managed to ask, a little wheezy still. 

Fred and John exchanged a look before Fred cleared his throat. “Well,” Fred started, unusually slowly. “Word has gotten around about your part in defeating Atriox.” 

“I'm sorry, my what? My part?” You couldn't quite help the way your voice slowly went up in pitch. 

“You did roll a grenade under him,” John pointed out, entirely too reasonably. 

“That was hardly anything,” you pointed out, gaze darting between the two Spartans. “I was mostly useless.” 

“You survived.” Fred spoke quietly, almost gently, his gaze fixed on you. 

Your jaw dropped a little and you looked between the two rapidly, not sure how you felt. How you should feel. Your head throbbed, too much too soon, and you shoved away from the table abruptly. It felt like every eye in the mess was on you as you walked swiftly out, palms clammy, breathing fast. 

You didn't want any of this. You hadn't done that for recognition, or anything like that. You'd just wanted to help. 

A call of your name finally jerked you to a halt, and you blinked rapidly. You'd made it almost all the way to the edge of camp, the Pelican not far from you. Fernando watched from the open door, hair extra ruffled. 

“You okay?” He asked, brow furrowing in his concern. 

“Just…” You shrugged, hands flapping uselessly at your side as words failed you entirely. 

Fernando didn't push. Instead he stepped down onto the grass, walking over to you. He looked at you, closely enough that you weren't sure what to think, before he nodded once. 

“I see you learned part of why I avoid the mess.” 

That startled a huff out of you. “I think so,” you agreed, dry but more settled. 

“Come on, got some rations here.” Fernando dropped his arm over your shoulders, leading you into the Pelican. “Did Chief bother to catch you up on the actual news?” 

“I think so,” you murmured, settling easily into the copilot seat and taking the bar that Fernando handed you. “We're getting supplies and stuff from the Sangheili, and human ships are on the way to us.” 

“That's about it,” Fernando agreed. “Joy says it shouldn't be more than a week.” 

“Right!” Joy popped to life between the two of you with an easy smile. “And then everybody will get to go home!” 

Home. The thought filled your chest with an odd ache. You weren't ready to think about home yet. “But we've had so much fun here,” you snarked. “What are we doing about the remaining Endless?”

Joy shrugged, though the look she shot to Fernando was almost worried. “I don't think that's been decided yet.” 

“You are doing nothing,” Fernando scolded, even as he held out a canteen to you. “You are staying where it is safe.” 

You snorted. “I'm staying with John.” 

Fernando eyed you, clearly debating if he could win an argument. His lips twitched. “Stubborn.” 

You laughed quietly. “What's that old saying? Pot something kettle?” 

Fernando just snickered at you. “Finish eating,” he ordered you. “And drink more water.” 

You blinked at him, momentarily nonplussed. “Since when did you get bossy?” But you took another bite of the bar. 

“Since things keep happening and you keep getting hurt.” Fernando watched you to make sure you ate and drank before he finally looked away, satisfied. 

Silence settled between the two of you, comfortable after all this time together. 

You wondered if you'd still be able to find this kind of quiet after the rescue ships arrived. 

“You know you're not going to end up alone, right?”

You jerked your gaze to Fernando, who wasn't even looking at you, but out at the view ahead of you both. It looked deceptively peaceful, with only a few lingering marks of humanity around. 

“I don't…” You swallowed, not sure how to finish that sentence. 

“Chief will follow you wherever you go,” Fernando continued. “And I'm with him. Pretty sure Blue Team follows him too, mostly. So you won't be alone.” 

You breathed through the shock and revelation of that. You'd unpack that issue another day. 

“Neither will you,” you pointed out, giving him the same courtesy of watching the long grass sway. 

Both of you pretended not to notice signs of high emotion in the other. 

Heavy boots coming up the ramp made you both turn, watching as John approached. He didn’t say anything, just stood calmly between the two of you, one hand resting on your shoulder. 

He didn’t magically make things better. The panic still gnawed at your chest, the ache in your thigh hadn’t abated, and the dampness under your eyes hadn’t suddenly gone away. 

But you felt better, anyway. Just having John at your side helped. 

Things weren’t okay, and possibly never would be. But you were all alive. 

That was enough. 

–

It took a week for human ships to arrive.

Arbiter had led an assault against the remaining Endless, with Blue Team of course. You stayed behind, with Fernando threatening to sit on you. You did hear afterwards that there were fewer Endless than anticipated. Kelly seemed relaxed… except for the tap of her fingers against her thigh.

But there was nothing else to be done. If some Endless somehow managed to get off the Halo, nobody knew how, or where they had gone. There was nothing to be done.

It took a little time to arrange evacuation - the wounded went first, then everyone else. Chief, of course, insisted on being on the Pelican, along with Blue Team and yourself. Fernando, of course, was piloting. 

You personally made sure Lindsay and Carter got on board a ship. 

It was odd, seeing the base so empty. Not many were left beyond a few Sangheili and the last of the survivors of the Infinite. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” Fernando murmured, unconsciously mirroring your thoughts, even as he stood next to you.

“It is.” Your lips twisted in some complicated expression. You wouldn’t miss life here. You’d never miss those months of fear and cold and survival. But all the same… “Just as strange to suddenly be going back.”

Fernando hummed soft understanding. “It’s not all bad,” he said with a little teasing nudge of his elbow to your ribs.

“No,” you agreed, hearing John coming up behind the two of you. “Not all.” 

“These are the last to board,” John informed you, one big hand settling at your waist. “The Pelican is loaded.” 

You breathed in deep, slowly. This Halo truly was beautiful. 

Maybe someday you’d be able to look at long grass and flowers again. 

“Let’s go,” you said, turning away from the view to look up at John, staring into the familiar gold of his visor. 

Even though you couldn’t see his expression, you knew he smiled. Just a little. Just for you. “Together.”

[flowersandbirdsflyingfree]

YOU KNOW WHAT?! ITS CHRISTMAS

FROM NOW UNTIL DECEMBER 24TH I AM HERE FOR BOOMER SHOOTER AND POSTAL MATCHUPS!!!

UPDATE: AS OF 12/30/2024 THIS SESSION IS CLOSED

That’s right, everybody!

I will match you up with Big Man With Gun Who Say Fuckwords (or says nothing ever). You know you’ve got heart eyes for them.

If you are interested in Postal specifically, I will match you up with the best possible Dude variation for you. Boomer Shooter matchups will have Dude be assumed from the second installment.

Boomer Shooter Candidates: Doomguy, Gordon Freeman, Caleb, Duke Nukem, Master Chief, The Postal Dude, Serious Sam, J.C. Denton

Postal Dude Candidates: Postal 1, Postal 2, Postal 3, Postal 4, Brain Damaged Dude, Movie Dude

How it works:

Send me an ask describing yourself! Some things to add could include:

-Physical appearence

-Fashion aesthetic

-Your strengths

-Your weaknesses

- What you look for in a partner

-Hobbies and talents

-Fun facts about yourself

I wrote a format example about myself below. This does not have to be exact!

I’m a 23 year old woman with brown hair and brown eyes. I’m somewhat short but have a fit, muscular frame. I tend to wear a lot of floral patterns or grunge outfits. I’m very compassionate and gentle. I’m shy at first, but eventually you find out I’m super mushy. I am hardworking as well. I love crafting, reading, cooking/baking and hiking. I worry if my mood swings and tendency to overthink is too much to handle. I also have a sarcastic streak on a bad day. My MBTI is ENFJ and my favorite band is Alice in Chains.

I await your submissions!

[empresskadia]

Fractured [Master Chief | John-117]

I seriously can't stop thinking about this man, ugh, he deserves the world. I didn't know what to write, so this happened. I have John's Gentle Touches chapter kinda planned out but it's gonna be a hot minute before it gets written and posted.

Post Halo: Escalation

It was one thing to be ordered to take R&R and another to get dragged away for it, or rather, as close to R&R as one could get on a massive ship. John was sure that Kelly was going to tease him as soon as he saw her next, but he couldn't tell you no. Not when he was glad to see you alive and unhurt.

That, maybe, he didn't fail you like he did Cortana.

It was after the third mission since he had reassigned Blue team that he noticed the UNSC Infinity had added to her crew, more specifically when you had marched right into the hanger, hands placed on your hip and Kelly let out a low whistle. "Someone's in trouble." She had teased that made Linda give a short snort as they passed by.

Though it was Fred who placed a hand on your shoulder. "He's all yours, [Y/n]." The Spartan patted your shoulder gently, the request in the movement evident. 'Take care of John.' and your small nod was answer enough.

Your brow raised as the green armor approached, he was glad, no, happy to see you again. This felt like the one thing that didn't seem to have gone wrong, but it had been four years since he had last seen you. Maybe everything between you two had changed.

"Hello, John." You said with that soft smile you always give him.

Or maybe it hadn't. 

The Master Chief simply nodded in acknowledgement; he wasn't sure what to say. Where to start? The loss of Cortana was still too fresh and if he was being honest with himself, a part of him hadn't tried to find you as soon as possible. Perhaps it was the fear that you would see him differently now.

He had failed.

His thoughts were circling when he felt two taps on his chest plate. "Come back to me John. I can hear your thoughts running from a mile away."

"I-I lost her," He admitted.

You were quiet for a moment staring into his visor like you could see him through the helmet, a sad smile tugged on your lips, "I know. I'm sorry." You really were. Cortana had been your friend, one who would tease John with you, one who would help you with your projects and have late night chats with you in the lab, one who always kept you up to date on John's missions regardless of if she was supposed to or not.

"She told me to tell you goodbye. And thank you-"

"And to take care of you?" You guessed, cutting him off before you tapped his chest armor again, the clink vibrating through the air. "Let's get you out of this. I wanna see you, John." And he couldn't tell you no, whether or not he wanted to take off the armor.

He complied.

He could do orders.

He could share this loss with you.

And while he laid in your arms, out of his armor, in the silent room that was broken by your humming, your fingers slowly dancing across his bare back, John almost felt like he was home, like he could survive this loss. His arms were wrapped around your waist, his face pressed against your stomach as your nails continued their movements, gently caressing over the pattern of scars as if you were rememorizing the old ones and studying the newer imperfections. "I missed you," you whispered as your lips pressed against his shoulder, right onto a scar he received from the Didact like you knew where it had come from.  The confession was so quiet that you took in a steady breath as if you were grounding your feelings. "I thought you were gone." He could hear the small quiver in your voice.

John lifted his head a fraction, his eyes meeting yours in a silent understanding. He had missed you and feared the worst. As he looked into your eyes, he understood your fears, a mirror image of his own. The thought of losing you, of facing the galaxy without your presence, was a fear he couldn't bear to confront. John's arms tightened around your waist, not enough to hurt you but to remind him you weren't going to disappear, that you were indeed alive.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, a silent vow to never let you go again. The warmth of your embrace, the gentle rhythm of your breathing. With you, he felt whole, as if all the fractured pieces of his being had finally found their place.