#based on my own experience with losing a brother
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jeguluses · 1 month ago
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The worst part for Sirius was, of course, the loss.
Loss. That’s what they say. “We’re sorry for your loss.” It’s what you’re supposed to say. Sirius has said it before, to those in mourning.
But you never know what it means to lose something until you can never get it back.
The first day is a whirlwind. He hears the words. His brother is dead. He spends the day thinking of the words. Regulus is dead. His brother is dead.
They don’t sink in. They float superficially on the surface of Sirius’ psyche. Regulus is dead but everything is the same. The sun is shining, for fuck’s sake, through the slits in the curtain of his family room. It’s tense and his mother won’t stop crying, but it doesn’t feel like Regulus is dead.
He asks to be excused to his room, away from all the sympathetic extended family, their lukewarm comfort casseroles and even warmer vegetable trays.
On the way to his room, he sees the door to Regulus'. “Do not enter without the express permission of R.A.B.”
Well, that didn't matter much more now, did it?
Sirius enters. He is not prepared for the ache that hits him immediately. It’s like it’s crashing down over him and he suddenly is hunched over and heaving. He manages to close the door behind him and he can breathe better but his chest is still weighed.
Sirius wonders if it’s even a fraction of what he felt, in those last few moments.
He looks around. It’s unreal. It’s like Regulus is still there, but he isn’t. All his personality tucked into the crevices of this space, but he doesn’t have a personality anymore. He doesn’t have likes and interests.
Regulus is dead.
Sirius doesn’t know how he ended up there, wailing in his brother’s bed, wrapped in his sheets. A bed that no one else will lay on ever again. He clutches Regulus’ pillow as a fresh wave of sobs consumes him.
No one to write in Regulus’ notebooks anymore, his delicate notetaking unfailingly perfect. There is no one to read his novels, feet propped up on the arm of the couch as he looks at Sirius with annoyance when he’s bothered him.
No one for Sirius to bother. No one for him to love in the way that you can only love someone who was raised like you were, who shared your blood.
He decided, then, that this would be his last day at Grimmauld, as well. He sleeps atop Regulus’ mattress and in the morning, calls James to pick him up.
On his way out of Regulus’ room, he catches sight of something. Regulus box of jewelry, a dozen or so rings and a few other ornate, yet masculine pieces. He snatches it up.
He walks out of his childhood home, box under his arm, and into the next phase of his life. The one where he is not a son and he is not a brother.
He is only Sirius, a piece of him missing. Sirius with a loss.
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nicka-nell · 5 months ago
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omg ur taking requests!
can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)
Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭
Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.
Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.
Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹
And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚
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Regretting their actions
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Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader
Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)
Part 1 | Part 2 (End)
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tw: mention of break-up
You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.
The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”
More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”
You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.
And then it happened…
You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...
“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.
Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 
>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<
It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.
Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.
Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.
You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”
Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.
Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.
Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.
Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.
He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.
You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...
As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”
Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.
Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.
But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.
Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.
You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.
Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.
So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 
But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.
And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.
Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…
Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…
Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 
Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 
That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?
But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.
“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.
But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.
“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.
“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.
“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.
”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.
“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.
“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.
You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.
“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”
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tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood
You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.
But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.
You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.
At least for the first few years.
The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.
If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.
Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.
More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”
And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.
You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.
Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.
You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.
“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.
“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.
“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!” he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.
Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.
Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.
His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.
Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.
He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.
He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.
“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”
It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.
You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.
What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.
He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.
In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.
When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 
“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.
“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.
“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.
“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”
A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.
Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.
He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.
Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 
Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.
“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.
“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.
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tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 
Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.
You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.
You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 
With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.
That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.
The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.
A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?
He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.
From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.
Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.
Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.
You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.
You thought…
When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.
Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 
“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 
His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 
The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.
Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.
“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.
But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.
Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.
So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.
He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.
Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.
“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.
Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.
He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.
Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.
But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.
“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.
“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.
Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.
Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.
Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.
You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.
He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.
This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.
His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.
Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.
“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.
You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.
Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.
“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.
I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.
Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.
I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”
You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.
There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?
You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.
Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.
“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.
“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”
Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 
“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.
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miss-musings · 7 months ago
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"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1
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I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.
Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.
I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.
But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.
I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.
CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?
Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.
We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.
I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.
He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against them? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?
They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."
As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focus on their reactions as much.
But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.
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No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:
That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.
That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.
Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.
Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.
It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.
But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:
The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.
Yet they never went back for him.
Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.
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I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.
But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.
And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.
But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...
ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE
I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.
However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.
Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.
So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.
However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.
Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.
And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.
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The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, before Rex stunned him.
Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.
Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:
Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;
How to remove an inhibitor chip; and
That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will
And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.
They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.
But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.
But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.
Again, they have all the information needed at this point.
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As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.
But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."
If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???
Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!
Which brings us nicely to:
THE DOUBLE STANDARD
Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.
They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.
In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.
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It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.
"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.
"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.
"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...
"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...
You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!
Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.
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It really feels like such a double standard.
They seem to care about everyone BUT him.
Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...
Echo.
Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?
Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.
One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing he was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.
Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.
Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!
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SOME CONSIDERATIONS
I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.
While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.
And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)
I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.
(EDIT: Looking back now, Echo *not* talking about Crosshair is such a weird choice. Shouldn’t he of all people know what it’s like to be mind-controlled? To be weaponized by your enemy and forced to kill your loved ones?)
(ANOTHER EDIT: I was rewatching 1.14 “War-Mantle” today and this line stood out to me:
Echo: If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try to get him out.
I realize that being imprisoned is different than being mind-controlled and actively hunting down you down, but it’s still weird that Echo of all people doesn’t seem to give a flying eff about Crosshair’s situation while practically begging Hunter to rescue a clone they’ve never met.🧐)
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Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?
Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.
He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.
But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.
We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.
Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.
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I cannot stress this enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.
And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.
It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.
But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.
And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.
I would've been livid too.
Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.
I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."
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The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.
I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.
Granted, it's really hard to tell.
Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.
But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.
For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)
I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.
And I imagine Crosshair did too.
IN CONCLUSION
Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.
I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.
This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.
Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.
On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.
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I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.
I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).
But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.
Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.
But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.
AN ADDENDUM
(EDIT/UPDATE:) Since writing the above, I've stumbled across a few other posts of people making the counterargument, saying they believe Hunter was in the right and don't appreciate the hate he gets for not going back for Crosshair.
People are more than welcome to make that argument. I think that kind of debate just shows how nuanced this show and its characters are, because you can make valid arguments for both sides.
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And to clarify, I don't hate Hunter (and the others) for not going back for Crosshair in S1. As Hunter says later in 3.05: "Nobody really understood what was happening back then." It was a chaotic time -- for the galaxy and their family.
In the span of one episode, the Jedi are exterminated; the war ends; the Republic is reorganized into the Empire; the clones' future role in the galaxy is questioned; and when CF99 refuse to kill civilians, they're declared traitors and arrested.
And to top it all off, Crosshair is acting strange AND they find out they have a little sister who's in danger.
So, when Crosshair seemingly betrays them, and they barely escape with their lives, it's understandable that the Batch's first move is just to get their bearings and figure out their next steps.
And, of course, all the dominoes fall from there.
So, while I definitely don't hate him and I understand why they don't go back for Crosshair initially, I am disappointed in Hunter.
If the writers wanted me to be on his side and understand that it was basically impossible to go back for Crosshair, then I needed a scene showing/telling me why they can't. Or I at least needed a scene proving that they care about him, because based on what we actually got in Season 1, I tend to fall on Crosshair's side when he argues his brothers didn't care about him the way they clearly care about Hunter when he's captured.
You can certainly make arguments that, because Crosshair's their brother and he knows all their strategies, strengths, weaknesses, etc., that he's even more dangerous than all the other Imperials they might face. Yes, definitely. I argue that's all the more reason to try to save him.
Yes, there would be risks. But, if you succeed, not only do you lose a very dangerous enemy -- one who knows you inside and out -- but you would (hopefully) regain a teammate.
Imagine you're in Hunter's shoes and your sibling -- or if you don't have one, a really good friend who feels like a sibling -- gets taken captive and mind-controlled by an evil organization. Wouldn't you try your damnedest to get them out? Or at the very least, wouldn't you be sad about their situation?
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Rewatching 1.03 "The Replacements," there's an interesting scene that's probably the closest we get to a real discussion about Crosshair -- how they feel about him, whether they miss him, whether he really betrayed them or was being influenced by the chip.
@laughhardrunfastbekindsblog did a great analysis of each character's reaction, which I recommend you read at some point.
I want to take a quick look at it too, starting with the brothers looking at Omega with Crosshair's weapon kit like she just knocked over Grandma's urn or something.
It feels like, for the first time, they're starting to let themselves process what really happened. This is their first real chance to mourn losing their brother.
Tech wonders whether Crosshair's actions were influenced by his inhibitor chip, and Omega basically confirms that theory. Wrecker is excited by the possibility that Crosshair didn't willingly betray them, but Hunter very quickly shuts the conversation down, saying they have other problems to tackle first.
While he's not technically wrong, Hunter pulls out the "raincheck card” too frequently in Season 1. And subsequently, a lot of the topics that come up in conversations keep simmering in the background while the Batch does other things until they're FORCED to confront them.
This scene is the perfect example of that. The Batch didn't mention Crosshair except in passing in 1.02, and it's only when Omega finds his weapon kit that they are FORCED to talk about him. (EDIT: Check out the 3:45 mark of this video on 2.09 “The Crossing” for more examples.)
I get the sense that Hunter's reaction in this scene, plus all the distractions that come up later, is why the others never really bring up Crosshair again, except in passing. It's a sore subject for Hunter, and they all tend to take their cues from him, especially this early in the show. Plus, they're probably still processing their own feelings, so they might not be ready to bring up the topic.
One last thing from 1.03 I want to note is that, later in the episode, Hunter is telling Omega about his and his brothers' enhanced abilities, and he automatically excludes Crosshair from the list.
It really feels like Hunter -- and the rest of the squad by extension -- labeled Crosshair as a lost cause very early on. That it was a given that he was their enemy now and there was no real chance of getting him back (unless he came to his senses on his own like Howzer and other clones later do).
This might be why they're so shocked when he reveals he removed his chip, because they were hoping that once he "woke up" that he would come back to them. Wrecker even says as much to Crosshair in 1.16: "We still would've taken ya."
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Ultimately, I think the characters had differing perspectives on who had the responsibility in the situation.
It seems Hunter and the others took a very passive approach. They told Crosshair about the chip when they had the chance, hoped he would "wake up" on his own, and would've accepted him back if he had.
But, Crosshair feels they should've taken a more active approach. He's hurt that they never came back for him, whether to save him or to join him.
(EDIT #2: I realize that by 1.15, at least, Crosshair seems to be arguing that they should’ve come back to join him in the Empire. He might be making that argument, but I’m saying his brothers had a responsibility to try to save him, and in that regard, I believe they failed.)
This is essentially the exchange Hunter and Crosshair have in 1.15:
Crosshair: They don't leave their own behind, most of the time. Hunter: You tried to kill us. We didn't have a choice. Crosshair: Hmm. And I did?
And, as I said before, based on everything we saw in Season 1, I tend to side with Crosshair.
Hunter made mistakes -- never talking about Crosshair and shutting down the others when they did was a big one. He never addressed the elephant in the room until he HAD to, and by then it was basically too late. And, of course, it seems the others took their cues from him.
As the leader, it was his job to -- at some point when they weren't in immediate danger -- introduce the topic and ask the others for their thoughts about Crosshair, especially once they knew how powerful the chip's influence was and once they knew how to remove it.
But, he didn't.
If the writers wanted me to side with Hunter when he says "We didn't have a choice" -- especially given the double standard I discussed earlier -- I don't think they gave me good enough reason to.
However, I think that's ultimately why the writers did what they did.
Both Hunter and Crosshair made enough mistakes in Season 1 that you can argue all day about which one of them failed the other more, which makes the show and characters all the stronger for it. Because neither one is 100% in the right or 100% in the wrong.
I just wanted to play Devil's Advocate, and try to explain why Crosshair felt like he did, and why I believe he was (at least partly) justified.
So, feel free to continue debating it, but I at least believe that Crosshair's brothers failed him first.
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vigilskeep · 6 months ago
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mairyn is my idea of a hawke who was really defined by the horrors of ostagar. even as the warden, up in the tower, we never quite experience what it was like down in the mud when the banners started going down and the battle rush turned to panic
she was one of the first to desert when the tide began to turn, blindly shooting down anyone—darkspawn or fellow soldier—who tried to stand between her and getting her brother and getting out. her commanding officer had been a gruff but honourable nobleman, a mentor figure who’d taken a chance on a scoundrel with a tongue too sharp for her own good. she doesn’t know what happened to him, whether if in his final moments he had been thankful she’d fled or cursed her for abandoning him. all she knows is that in the days between ostagar and lothering, his old mabari found her, and has limped along in her shadow since
her life is definitely cleanly cut down the middle between ‘before’ and ‘after’. i like the absence of ostagar in what we see, because i like the idea that the one thing mairyn would make varric promise is to cut ostagar and carver’s death from the story, as he does in the exaggerated intro. one story she won’t tell, like his bianca
she’s evenly weighted purple/red, restless and resentful, saying whatever will cut the deepest or spark the most laughter, anything to have an impact, start a fight, dodge the personal. she’s definitely rushing through life, going for everything that’s exciting and dangerous and fun, quick to leave baggage behind. she’s still running from ostagar. the only time she stopped was to drag carver to safety, and it was for nothing, just to lose him anyway. she won’t make the same mistake again. she loves her family, sure, on the days she doesn’t want to strangle them, but no matter what her father asked her to do—play the third parent and always be a protector for her siblings, like she would never have her own life, like she didn’t matter—she’s going to live for what she wants. running has to be the right answer, the only thing anyone can do, because if it isn’t, she’ll have to face what she did that night at ostagar
pretty unfortunate that she’s about to fall in love with a lot of people who can’t be truly saved, but need you to stop and try anyway!
also her entire aesthetic in my head is based on this one hawke concept art:
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wet cat of a woman. horrible kirkwall ghoul. you should never be completely sure somebody didn’t fish her out of the docks this morning
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wordsaresimple-imnot · 8 months ago
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That final line - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader
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Summary: Things have changed between Joe and Reader after bearing witness to the Concentration camp. They moved from being best friends to something more emotionally intimate. Now that the war in Europe is over will they cross the last line and become physically intimate?
Warnings: 18+ content (smut, p in v) angst-ish (mentions of war & concentration camp), comforting each other, tooth rotting fluff at end, she/her pronouns (no use of y/n or 1st person POV, but told from Liebgott's perspective sorta).
A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.
A/N pt 2: I love how this turned out. Basically this is just my own self-indulgence wish that I could have held and taken care of Liebgott after that scene of him crying in the truck. As always, let me know what you think! I tried a different writing perspective and I like it, hopefully you do too. Comments, likes, and reblogs make me happy and feel validated!
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Joe Liebgott would forever be a different man. Easy Company had just liberated Kaufering IV but that included locking the poor souls back up for the medics to be able to try and get them back from the brink of death. The whole thing had left Joe feeling broken and full of pure rage and despair he didn't know how to get rid of it. So he grabbed a bottle of wine and wondered till he found a tree isolated enough he wouldn't easily be found. He just needed space.
He'd been alone for hours, judging by how low the sun was hanging, bottle long since empty, and eyes sore and dry from tears when he heard a twig snap. Looking around the tree, his heart both swelled and shattered at the sight of the person walking towards him. She was his best friend, been that way since Toccoa and all through the war thus far. The only person that could calm him down when his hot-headedness got the better of him and always had his back in every combat situation. He never had to worry when she was around. She was also the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and had long since accepted that his heart would always speed up a little when she was in eyesight. While his heart had the usual reaction at seeing her, he couldn't help but feel broken anew at the sadness on her face and emptiness in her eyes. He wasn't the only one tore up from their recent experience.
"I've been looking for you everywhere." She speaks barely above a whisper as she drops down next to him, already leaning against his arm.
"I'm sorry, I just had to get away for a while. I should have found you and brought you with me." He leans over to drop a kiss on the top of her head.
There's a beat of silence and then she speaks again, still in a low whisper, "Do you think they'll make it?"
The words are a dagger to his already bruised and bleeding heart. He gives a small sniff, trying to hold back the fresh tears.
"I don't know." He feels her turn her body towards him and knows she's taking in his appearance detail by detail.
"You can let it out, Joe. I know this is tearing you up. Please don't hold it in and let it destroy you." One hand grasps his while the other gently takes his chin and turns his head so their eyes meet. He tries to push the emotions back down and come up with something to say, but he loses all resolve when her hand moves to cup his cheek and wipe away a stray tear that falls out.
Joe is suddenly wrapping his arms around her, pressing his face in the crook of her neck and letting it all out. He feels her shift them so he's laying mostly on her, her back against the tree and arms tightly wrapped around him. One hand is gripping the back of his jacket tightly, holding him to her, the other is gently stroking his head, and when he feels the side of his face getting wet he knows she's crying too.
They stay like that for hours, until the sun is nearly gone and all tears have been let out. Even after the tears, they don't move, finding too much comfort in holding each other. The only thing that gets them finally moving is their stomachs growling. Joe gets up first, holding his hand out to help her up and starts walking them back to find some food. He looks down briefly when he feels her intertwine their fingers and give his hand a squeeze. The first smile he's had in days makes it way across his face and he squeezes her hand back.
As the days dragged on ahead, their bond grew even tighter. There was a new level of safety and vulnerability that blossomed. Hands would brush more often, hugs turned tighter and longer, if they were able to they'd often be found napping together tangled limbs and all. It was as natural as breathing to seek the other out and before Joe knew it, he was hit with the realization that he was head-over-heels in love with his best friend.
The popping of yet another champagne bottle drags Joe from his mulling and takes in the sight around him with a smile. They are in the Eagles Nest, the war in Europe is over and everyone is finally able to relax and celebrate. He's sitting by Webster and Perco, watching the other's talk and laugh, already more than a little drunk. His smile widens when he catches her eye, sitting next to Malarkey and they salute each other from across the room.
"You ever gonna make a move, Lieb?" Perco's question lands like a bomb right in his stomach.
"What the hell are you talking about?" He looks at the man next to him like he's crazy, but inside he's frantic. Is it that obvious?
"Oh come on, Liebgott. The two of you have been attached at the hip the whole war, even back at training. We've all noticed the stolen looks between you. The wars over, just go for it." Webster gives him a shove, pointedly ignoring the glare Joe shoots at him.
"I gotta take a leak." Joe abruptly stands and leaves before either of them can continue their pestering. They're right, he knows they're right. Since accepting his feelings, the only thing that's been holding him back has been the on-going war. Sure there's still Japan to figure out but right now, their immediate part is over and he doesn't have to worry about dying and leaving her or worse losing her any second to a bullet or bomb.
Not actually needing the bathroom, he finds himself wondering the halls of the Eagles Nest and randomly picking a room to go into. It's spacious with a sitting area, a large comfortable bed sitting against the back wall, a door leading to an adjoining bathroom next to it and doors to the right leading to a balcony. He heads to the balcony, throwing the doors open and leans against the railing taking in the mountains and open valley. It's so quiet and peaceful, he doesn't know how to reconcile it with the horrors the owner and occupants have done to the people of this land.
"Why am I always having to search for you?" A soft, happy voice speaks behind him. Joe turns around and feels his breathe catch in his throat at how beautiful and easy going she looks, leaning around the doorframe to the balcony. When he didn't respond, she stands up a little straighter. "What? Is there something on my face?"
Joe shakes his head and moves to stand in-front of her, raising his hand to trail a finger down her cheek. "You're beautiful."
"How drunk are you?" Her voice is playful, but Joe knew his words were having an effect on her based on the blush she now had.
"Not even tipsy. But drunk or sober, you're still beautiful." His hand cups her cheek, tilts her head up a little to fully meet his eyes and he decides to cross that final line. "I love you. I love you fully and completely; body, mind, and soul. I need you, more than I need to breathe. If you don't feel the same, that's fine. I will lock my heart away to keep you in my life however you wish to be. But the war here is done and I'm out of reasons to not tell you how I feel. Tell me you don't feel the same and I'll respect that, but if you feel even close to what I feel please let me know."
Joe see's tears form in her eyes and for a heartbreaking second he's sure she's going to tell him 'no' and walk away. Then he feels her hands on his face and holds his breathe as she rises on her toes, stopping when her lips are barely brushing his.
"I love you, Joe. I'm yours; body, mind and soul." And then her lips are pressing against his and Joe thinks he's died and gone to heaven.
Their kiss is passionate and slow, taking full advantage that they don't have to rush and can take their time exploring. Joe starts nudging her backwards, back into the main room and towards the bed. A line of clothes marks their path as they help each other be rid of them, kissing freshly exposed shoulders and necks as they go. Soon enough they've managed to be rid of everything and tumble onto the bed in a heap.
Joe leans back just enough to take in the site of her underneath him. Face flushed, lips swollen and glossy from kissing, hair spread out like a halo, chest rising and falling hard as she tries to catch her breathe. He leans his head down pressing kisses to her neck, trailing down her collarbone, around the swell of her breast and ending at her nipple. He takes his time delivering languid licks and sucks, making her skin pucker and rise. Not wanting to leave the other one out of the fun, his hand cups, massages and pinches a little on the flesh there, his other hand hasn't stopped caressing any part of her skin he can reach.
If he has any doubts of how he's making her feel, the gasps and moans falling from her lips dispel them quickly. Soon enough her hands are in his hair and scratching down his back as she wraps her legs around his waist pulling him closer. Joe stops his minstrations on her breast with a groan when his erection is pressed right against her wet core and he can't help but roll his hips into her again. This time they both moan.
"Joe, please. I need you." Her voice is ragged and the lustful look in her eyes almost has him finishing right then. He shifts to the side a little, giving him room to run his hand down her side and cup her core. She's soaking and his brain short circuits a little.
His fingers make quick work of making sure she is coated properly, detouring to her clit to rub until she starts to whimper and pull at him. As he meets her eyes, he raises his fingers to his lips and sucks her taste off of them.
"Goddamn, baby. Next time I'm spending hours down there." He rushes out as he positions himself at her entrance. "But if I don't have you soon, I might die." He looks at her for confirmation that she's ready and when she nods, he starts pushing in slowly.
They groan together at the feel of him sliding into place like a puzzle piece coming home. Once he's bottomed out, he drops down to his elbows, putting more of himself on top of her and rests his forehead against hers. Her thighs tighten around him as she turns her head to kiss him.
"Move. Please." She bites his bottom lip at the same time she scratches his back again.
"Yes ma'am." He presses his lips firmly to her, swallowing the moan she lets out as he pulls out and quickly snaps back in. He finds a steady rhythm, angling his hips just right so he's brushing that sweet spot within her. Her back bows, pressing her chest further into his and exposes her neck to his lips. He doesn't waste any time placing a hard bite where it'll be hard to hide the mark already forming. This spurs something in her and soon her hands are in his hair, tugging his head to the side as she returns the favor.
Joe can tell she starts to get close to her release, as her walls start fluttering around him and her moans start becoming more frequent. He raises himself up, gripping the headboard with one hand and dropping his other hand down to rub her clit.
"I know you're close baby. Look at me as you let go." His voice is deep and commanding. Her eyes immediately lock onto his and his movements pick up speed. A few more hard thrusts and a pinch on her clit and she's moaning his name and clamping down around him. The feeling of her combined with his name falling from her lips like a prayer has him falling right behind her.
As they come down from their highs, they exchange slow kisses and 'I love you's'.
Bonus scene:
Not wanting to waste a beautiful day, the guys had decided to have an impromptu baseball game. Joe stood in his spot, waiting to bat next, sending a smile and wave to the stands where his girl was watching and cheering. They were getting ready for the next play when Winters came strolling across the field. They all crowded around him, fully expecting to hear their deployment orders for fighting Japan. Instead he was giving them the best news they'd heard since VE day. Japan had surrendered. The war, all of it, was finally over.
All the guys started cheering, exchanging hugs and pats on the backs. Joe see's her coming towards them at an easy jog, a curious look on her face. He gives her the biggest smile and runs right up to her, lifting her in his arms and spins her around.
"Japan surrendered. It's over. We're going home." Her smile matches his as she fully takes in his words and hugs him back. Just as quick as it started, Joe stops spinning her and sets her down on her feet, then he's down on one knee, holding her hands.
"Marry me. Come back home with me. Or wherever you wanna live. I don't care. Just marry me, please." Everything dulls around the edges as he holds his breathe, waiting for her response.
"Yes, Joe!" She smiles bright enough to blind the sun and then starts laughing when he jumps back up and starts spinning her around again. The only sound is the cheering of their friends and their hearts beating in sync.
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virtualreader · 1 year ago
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broken hearts and healing souls
deanwinchesterxfem!reader
summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.
word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)
warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.
part 2
a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!
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"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.
"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"
You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.
After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.
Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.
"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.
You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.
In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”
He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.
Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.
The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.
"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”
Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.
He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.
He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.
"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.
Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.
"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."
You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.
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"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”
You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold
As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.
You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.
"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.
The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.
It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.
"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.
You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay
The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.
"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."
The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.
You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.
The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.
You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.
"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.
The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.
It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.
You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.
As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.
You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.
“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.
Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?
Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.
As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.
"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”
You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.
You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay
"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”
Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.
He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.
“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.
"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.
He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.
And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"
The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.
"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.
Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.
“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”
"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”
Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?
As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.
The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.
You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.
So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.
“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”
“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”
With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.
You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.
And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.
"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."
"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”
You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?
“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”
And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.
It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.
It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.
However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.
You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.
A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.
"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.
You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.
You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.
"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."
You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.
“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”
“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”
Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?
Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."
A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.
Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.
Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.
And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.
His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.
None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.
The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.
"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."
part 2
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mothiir · 4 months ago
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i am foaming at the mouth waiting for more of the aeldari/diplomat fic. the way you write the alien perspective is So! Good!!! please tell me you have more writing/headcanons for the xenos factions, i love those silly space elves and space robots!!
i will be working on my next taleath/diplomat fic soon, but here are some headcanons to tide you over because GW neglects Eldar and half the fandom just boils them down to pointy-eared waifus rather than truly alien creatures, which bugs me. these are all 100% my own invention and based on nothing but my own perception of what would be cool.
Random thoughts on Aeldari culture:
since the vast majority of Craftworld Eldar live lives of carefully curated experience in order to avoid succumbing to their degeneracy of their past, it stands to reason that sex is a Big Deal for them. Romantic relationships between Aeldari can take decades to form — sometimes centuries can pass before a couple so much as hold hands. Even when things are moving relatively swiftly by Aeldari standards, there will be months of meditating beside each other, ensuring that they can stand to be in each other’s presence without losing their grip on their feelings. It’s very common for older Aeldari to serve as chaperones for young would-be lovers; they are tasked with ensuring things do not get too intense. When the pair do have sex, it is often intensely ritualistic. Since Aeldari are so psychically gifted, they need layers of protection and care to ensure they don’t give half their Craftworld a really awkward dream. No one wants to have a vision of their brother getting backshots for the first time.
Exodite Eldar - the ones that ride dinosaurs and haven’t had a lore update since about 2005 - view sex very differently. It is a gift from their mother planet, and meant to be enjoyed. They do not casually procreate, but this is because they believe it is their duty to raise strong children to benefit the collective. Arranged marriages are common, but always done with the consent of the children involved (the children in question are generally about two hundred years old — the Craftworld Aeldari think this is appallingly young). The fertile Aeldari are encouraged to procreate as much as possible, and families of ten or more children are common. Since the Fall, infertility is very common among both males and females, so those that cannot bear their own young will work to raise the young of those who can, freeing them up for more frequent pregnancies (since Aeldari children taken at least three decades to reach what we would consider prepubescence, the help is much needed).
Since Yvraine’s big song and dance about Ynnead, more and more Drukhari are defecting — some directly to Yvraine, some to the Craftworlds. Obviously, there are all sorts of problems with integration — including detoxing from literal soul addiction — but one of the more mundane ones is sexual frustration. Imagine going from shagging every time you feel like it to being told that even looking lustfully at another Eldar is considered a grave breach of protocol. Taleath has spent more time than he will ever admit meditating away a boner.
And the more NSFW stuff:
Yes, they have dicks. They look very human in that respect. Never mention this to them, because they will not appreciate it.
Most Aeldari will tell you that they could never look lustfully upon a human, as this would be equivalent to you looking lustfully upon an ape. You are utterly beneath them — you barely qualify as sentient to them — and sex with you would qualify as bestiality to them.
Most Drukhari will tell you that Craftworld Aeldari are filthy liars with a stick so far up their arse it’s a wonder they manage to get anything done. Yes, humans are totally beneath Aeldari — they’re mewling, miserable creatures with short pathetic lives and nothing to redeem them apart from how delicious they are when they die screaming. Or, even better, fail to die, and just scream and wail for mercy and — wait, what were you asking again?
Basically, Drukhari will fuck humans — not all Drukhari, not all humans, and we are going to have to play fast and loose with the definition of ‘fuck’ because a lot of the stuff that happens in Commoragh defies even my attempts at description.
Aeldari will not, in general, fuck humans. This does not mean that some do not want to. They just cannot acknowledge it without going against the deeply held taboos of their culture. The fact is that they will say it is because humans are disgusting and completely beneath them — which is, from their point of view, largely true — but that is an effective shield against the actual answer, which is deeper and more complicated than anything they really want to admit to outsiders: that the Fall warped every aspect of Aeldari society, including sex. The rituals they have prior to building a relationship, let alone prior to sex, are so intricate and long that a human could well age and die before the Aeldari even feels ready to admit their feelings. It just isn’t worth it.
BONUS: How to Tell If An Aeldari Is Crushing On You
Aeldari are creatures of bizarre mannerisms and a culture so alien that it makes the orcs look familiar. However, here are some signs to watch out for if you think that your Aeldari is harbouring some heretical feelings:
They occasionally refer to you by name instead of ‘Mon-Keigh’. (Note: if they start fondly referring to you as ‘little pet’ or ‘little prey thing’ I would advise reading up on your life insurance policy as this is not an Aeldari, this is a Drukhari, and only the Emperor’s Mercy can help you now)
You keep bumping into them. Normally you will walk into what you thought was a perfectly empty room, only to find them meditating. They will normally sigh, and declare something about not being able to be free of your pestilential species, and make to swan off. If you apologise profusely, they may graciously permit you to join them. This is the Aeldari equivalent of a blow job in church, so be try and be good.
They loudly state how annoying and loud all these humans are. Aeldari do not normally need to say this out loud; it’s a given. If they are saying it, they are trying to remind themselves of the fact they are meant to dislike you.
They mastermind a plot to save you from a minor inconvenience that leaves thousands of your kin dead or dying. They do not understand why you are upset at this. The others are just humans, yes? You are their human. That is the difference. (Contrary to what you might think, this is not a purely Drukhari trait. This is something all types of Aeldari will do. The only difference is that a Drukhari will try and fuck you after doing it, possibly as you cry out of guilt, and an Aeldari will try to hold you hand, which is their version of fucking)
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winchesterwild78 · 5 months ago
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By Your Side
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Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (together), Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Tessa-Reaper
Warnings: mention of death, coma, out of body experience, angst, fluff, language
A/N: I was tagged by @jackles010378 to write a short story about Season 2 Episode 1. The reader is Dean’s girlfriend and while Dean is “dead” he sees her not leaving his side and when he wakes he finally says the words she’s longed to hear him say.
This is my own work, please do not take it or copy it without my permission. It’s based on characters and an episode from Supernatural, but doesn’t follow the timeline completely. I wrote it fast and edited it fast. Please overlook any errors. 
Minors DNI 18+
You had stayed back at the hotel while Dean, John, and Sam were on a hunt. You weren’t feeling well, the flu, you think. So you stayed while they left. You’d been hunting with John and Dean for a few years now, and Dean’s girlfriend for just as long. 
John was against your relationship at first. He said Dean didn’t need the distraction and you didn’t need the heartbreak. However, you and Dean stood your ground and became a couple. You fought side by side, protecting each other and falling deeper in love.
As the hours ticked on, you started to get worried. Neither of them were answering their phones and they weren’t back yet. Where the hell are they?! They should have been back by now. Just then your phone rang startling you out of your thoughts.
“Hello?” “Hello, is this Miss Y/L/N?” “It is, who’s this?” “Miss. Y/L/N, this is April from Mercy Hospital. You are listed as an emergency contact for Dean Smith. He was involved in an accident and is in the hospital.” “Oh my god! Is he okay? What about his Dad and brother?!?” “They are fine, his brother is about to be discharged, if you’re able to, you really should come to the hospital.” “Please, tell me, is he alive?” “Ma’am, I think it’s best if you come up here.” “Just fucking tell me! Is he alive or not!!! It’s not that damn difficult!” You screamed into the phone. “He’s alive, but barely.” “I’m on my way.”
You grabbed your stuff as tears fell. On the way to the hospital you prayed to whoever or whatever would listen. “Don’t you fucking die on me, Dean Winchester! Don’t you do it. I can’t live without you.” You were sobbing and had to pull over briefly because you felt like you were going to get sick. Once you were sure you were done you headed towards the hospital again. 
You parked and ran towards the entrance. “Dean Smith, what room is he in?” You yelled at the woman at the desk. She told you what room and you bolted down the hallway. When you got in the room you weren’t prepared for what you saw. There he was, laying so still. He was bruised and banged up, with a tube down his throat. You pulled a chair to his side and grabbed his hand. 
“Dean, I’m here baby. You’re going to be okay. You can’t leave me, not now. Please baby, open your eyes.” You softly kissed his hand and laid your head down on his bed. Silent tears fell. Your phone rang and you saw it was Sam. “Hey Sam.” “Hey, Y/N, are you okay?” “No, Sam. I’m at the hospital in Dean’s room.” “I’m on my way to you.” 
Sam walked in and hugged you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was going to call you as soon as I could. They must have beat me to it.” “It’s okay, Sam. I’m glad you and your dad are okay.” 
You turned your attention back to Dean. Slowly rubbing his hand. “I can’t lose him, Sam. I can’t, we can’t.” Sam placed his hand on your back, “I know.” Just then John appeared at the door and tipped his head to you. “How are you feeling John?” “Sore, but I’m okay. Thanks for coming.” “This is my place, right by his side. I know you don’t approve of our relationship, but I love him, John. My place is right here by his side.” 
John sighed and sat on the opposite side. The only sound in the room was the beeping of the heart monitor. You placed your head down on the bed again, silently praying and begging for Dean to wake up, when you heard an alarm go off. You looked up and saw Dean’s heart rate was flat. The nurses and doctor ran in with a crash cart and told everyone to step back. You stood and took a step back, mouth on the ground. Everything was a blur and the sounds muffled. Your focus was on Dean, everyone else faded away.
The doctor grabbed the paddles and yelled “clear” as he shocked Dean’s chest. Dean’s body jumped and you gasped. Sam grabbed you and tried to pull you out of the room. You pushed him off, “No! We have to stay here with him. We aren’t leaving!” 
Unbeknownst to you, Sam and John, but Dean was there. He was standing beside his bed looking at you and hearing every plea and seeing every tear. He walked over to you, brushed your cheek with his hand, “I’m here baby.” Dean looked up and saw a woman who looked right at him. He followed her out and finally caught up to her. “Who are you, and why can you see me?” “My name is Tessa, and I’m just like you. In the inbetween.” Dean followed her around the hospital and asked her how he could get back to you. She always answered in vague ways and it started to frustrate Dean. So he went back to his room.
The doctors and nurses were gone, his heart was beating again and there you were. Sitting next to him, holding his hand. “I love you Dean, we love you. Please don’t leave us.” You cried and held his hand tight. He wished he could feel you holding his hand and wipe your tears away. 
Sam walked in the room and saw you still sitting next to Dean. “Hey, Y/N, why don’t you stretch, grab some food and just take a break. I promise I’ll call you if anything changes.” Dean stood to the side watching his baby brother trying to convince you to leave his side. He grinned, “Good luck, Sammy. She’s a stubborn one.” “Sam, I love you, but right now I need you to leave me alone. We’re NOT leaving his side. I love him and my place is right here.” “Y/N, we aren’t leaving him, but we need to be strong for him. That means eating something and taking care of yourself too. 
Sam didn’t notice it, but Dean swears he saw you lightly brush your hand to your belly. Dean’s eyes went wide. “We love you, we’re not leaving him, we can’t lose him.” Oh my god, you’d been sick for a few weeks, Dean thought to himself. He bolted from the room. “Tessa! Where are you?! I need to know how to get back in my body! I can’t leave her, not now. I need to tell her how I feel about her.” Tessa appeared next to Dean. “Dean, I don’t know if it’s possible. It’s your time to go.” “What? How do you know that?” Dean’s face searched for answers in Tessa’s. “Dean, I’m not a ghost, I’m a reaper. I’ve come to take you away.” “The fuck you are! I’m not leaving her.” “Dean, it doesn’t work that way. When it’s your time, you have to go.” 
Dean went back to you and placed his hand on your shoulder. He leaned down and kissed your cheek. “I know baby, I’m trying to get back to you.” John came back into the room to check on Dean. He saw you still sitting beside Dean. “Y/N, you have to eat something. You have to stay healthy and keep up your strength. If not for you, think about the baby, please.” “Why do you care? You didn’t even want Dean and I together. Why do you care about the baby?” “It’s still my grandchild and I see how much you love my son. Don’t worry. I’m going to fix this. Just promise me to love him even on the tough days.” “John, you know I will.” He placed a soft kiss on your head and walked out of the room. 
Dean stood dumbfounded. His father knew you were pregnant and didn’t say anything. Dean tried for what seemed like hours to jump back into his body and nothing worked. He left the room and went to find John. He was confused to see John in the basement of the hospital. “Dad! Don’t do it!.” Dean saw his dad standing in front of the yellow eyed demon making a deal. Before Dean could see anything else, he was zapped back into his body. 
When you realized he was awake you called for the nurse. They removed the tube and he sat up. You threw your arms around him. “Oh my god, Dean. We almost lost you. I love you so much. Please don’t do that again.” Dean wrapped his arms around you and held you. “Thank you sweetheart, thank you for never leaving my side. I love you.” You pulled back with tears in your eyes. Dean had never said those 3 words to you. “What? How did you know I didn’t leave your side, and Dean you love me?” 
“I saw you sweetheart, I saw it all. I’ve been so stupid. I have loved you from the moment I met you. I knew you were it for me. I love you, all of you and anyone else that comes along.” Dean placed his hand on your belly. “Dean, how did you know? I was going to tell you after this hunt. I had taken a test when I started to get sicker and your dad walked in the bathroom as I found out. We both agreed to tell you after the hunt. He wanted your head to be clear, and I wanted to make sure you all were safe. I knew if I told you I was pregnant, you wouldn’t have gone on the hunt.” “Oh sweetheart, I love you so much.” He kissed your lips gently. 
John walked in the room and saw Dean was awake. He leaned down to hug Dean and whispered something in his ear. Dean’s eyes went wide and he looked over at you. As John stood up he walked over to you, “Take care of him and that baby. For the record, I think you’re perfect for him. Take care of each other.” John hugged you and gave you a kiss on your forehead. Something felt off. 
John left the room and went back to his. Sam came back in and went to check on John. When he walked in the room he found John dead. Sam screamed for help but it was too late. 
When you and Dean were told, he realized John had made a deal with the demon to switch places. Dean remembered what Tessa told him, that it was his time to go. Then he woke up. You held Dean as he sobbed at the loss of his father. Your heart broke for him. 
“I’m so sorry, Dean. He loved you and Sam so much.” Dean looked up at you, “He made a deal, Y/N. He took my place.” “What?! How do you know?” Dean told you about his experiences while he was in a coma, and what Tessa had told him. You cupped his face, “Oh Dean, he sacrificed himself for you, for our baby.” 
You and John never really saw eye to eye, but you would forever be in his debt. He saved the love of your life so your child could grow up with their father. You started to cry when the magnitude of his sacrifice hit you. 
“Sweetheart, I love you and our baby. I will always be thankful my dad put us and our baby before him. I can’t wait to live the rest of my life proving I’m a man worthy of that sacrifice.” “Dean, you’re already that man. You’re the love of my life, the father of my unborn child, an amazing brother and son. You protect with every fiber of your being, even people you don’t know. You, Dean Winchester, are the most worthy man on Earth.”
Dean took you in his arms, “I’ve been a fool. I should have told you what you meant to me before. I shouldn’t have let myself almost die to tell you what you mean to me. I love you, Y/N. Yesterday, today, forever. Seeing you by my side, refusing to leave showed me how much you mean to me. You’re my best friend, my confidant, my lover, the mother of my child, you’re my biggest cheerleader, and I love you!” 
Dean placed his hand on your belly, “I love you too, little one. I will be there to protect you and teach you how to be strong and love and fight for the things and people you love.” You placed your hand on his and smiled. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, “I love you, Y/N, so much.” 
Tags:  @nescaveckdaily  @kr804573 @k-slla @jackles010378 @jawritter
@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @roseblue373 @cheynovak @jassackles  @chriszgirl92
@suckitands33 @arcannaa @n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 @smoothdogsgirl
@hobby27 @manicjk @stoneyggirl2 @multifandoms-saidwhat
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hero-of-the-wolf · 5 months ago
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This is for the lovely @la-sera , based on this comic here. I really admire your art, and you're such a kind person, so I wanted to write a little something for you :) I hope you like it!!!
Hyrule wasn’t a squeamish person. He couldn’t afford to be with his line of work, but even before he’d taken up sword and shield to fight for his beloved land he’d never been one to shy away from the reality of death. He’d do all in his power to spare the people of Hyrule from it, whether they appreciated it or not, and in turn administered it to every fell beast and monster that plagued his home. That was simply what heroes did.
And so battle after battle, with his eight new brothers in arms, he strove to help in every way he could. He knew that he wasn’t the strongest fighter, but he could hold his own in a fight well enough, and he had spells that the others didn’t know. Hyrule pulled on his magic now, jumping up over a moblin to slash at its head. It roared in outrage, clumsily swiping at him, trying to snatch him out of the air. But Hyrule was faster. He landed and, using his momentum, spun around to thrust his sword through the monster’s back. With a dying gurgle it collapsed at his feet and exploded into black smoke.
This particular battle had been especially brutal. They’d already been low on healing supplies when they’d gotten ambushed, and it’d only gotten worse from there. With no more red potions or fairies, it was all down to Hyrule and his magic.
He rushed to Wind and Four’s sides next. He couldn’t linger for too long trying to catch his breath; the others needed his help. The little pirate had been shot, felled by an archer’s arrow. Already Wind had tears shining in his eyes but he stubbornly refused to let them fall.
“I can’t move my left leg,” he rasped, his voice shaking from the force of the surpressed emotion. “Does my leg have to be amputated? Like a pirate—”
“You’re already a pirate, Wind,” Four chastised gently.
Hyrule looked over the wound. The arrow was still firmly embedded into the sailor’s calf, blood slowly oozing out and dripping down his leg.
It could have been much worse.
“No, your leg doesn’t need to be amputated.” Hyrule held out a spare rag. “Here, bite this.”
“I’ll draw this arrow on the count of three,” Four added. “Ready?”
Wind nodded, a traitorous tear finally leaking free.
“One.”
Hyrule leaned forwards, waiting for his cue.
“Two!”
Four swifty pulled the arrow free. Wind flinched back, a startled cry tearing from his lips. Hyrule wasted no time, placing his hands against the puncture wound and summoning his life spell.
It didn’t take much magic to heal. When he was done Wind smiled at him gratefully, the color already returning to his face. Then he shot a glare at Four. “You could have waited till three.”
Certain that Wind was okay, Hyrule tuned out their conversation and turned his attention back to the battle around them. Four could handle it from here, the traveler’s help was needed elsewhere. The others weren’t faring much better, either.
He caught sight of Warriors next, sitting on the ground and clutching at his shoulder. As he drew closer he realized that the captain was bleeding heavily. He had his scarf pressed tightly against the wound, trying to stem the blood all by himself.
He looked up as Hyrule knelt at his side, his gaze glassy and unfocused. “You don’t… need to heal me, Rule.”
“I want to help you,” Hyrule insisted, reaching out to gently pull the sullied blue cloth away. That would be a hard stain to get out, he knew from experience.
“ ‘s too much… blood….”
Hyrule gently shooed away the captain’s resisting hands. “I don’t mind. Now let me see and heal your shoulder, before you lose more blood!”
Warriors finally relented, letting his hands fall limply into his lap and closing his eyes. Hyrule placed his own hands against the wound as gently as he could, closing his eyes as well and summoning his magic again.
There was so much blood. Hyrule wondered how long the captain had been bleeding, unwilling to call out for help. He resolved to be more observant in the future. None of his brothers would suffer needlessly, not if he could help it.
He’d barely even mended the wound back together when he heard a pained cry ring out across the field. His head snapped up, searching the chaos until he found the source of the noise. The champion had fallen, his body a reddish heap on the ground. Legend stood over him, not letting any monster get too close.
Warriors saw it, too. He squeezed the traveler’s arm in thanks. “Thank you. You’ve done enough.”
Hyrule nodded, squeezing his arm in return, before rushing over. Legend turned at his approach, relief washing over his face. He kneeled down with Hyrule, pulling Wild up into his arms.
“What happened?” Hyrule asked, assessing the damage. He could feel that familiar exhaustion already pulling at him, a clear indication that he was quickly running out of magic. He ignored it.
“Wolfos,” Legend panted. “Can you heal him?”
“Of course.”
Hyrule reached for the wound, summoning his magic yet again. Slowly, the flesh knit back together. Hyrule poured in every last drop. The wounds were deep, but he had enough to do the job. He had to.
Once he was satisfied that it was fully healed the traveler leaned back, his head swimming.
Legend noticed immediately. He reached into his bag, pulling out a bottle. “I have a green potion for your magic.”
Another scream. The sound of it sent Hyrule’s heart racing, every hair standing on end, before it abruptly cut off. Then there was the muffled thud of a body hitting the ground.
This battle wasn’t going well for them at all.
Hyrule accepted the potion gratefully, tipping it back and drinking the whole thing in one go. Then he rushed over to where the sound had come from to find Twilight cradling Time’s body. Hyrule’s breath caught at the sight.
“Time, why did you protect me?” Twilight was crying. He placed his hand at the back of Time’s head, pulling him closer. Blood ran down the side of the old man’s face, nearly obscuring it with crimson red. “No, Time! Open your eyes! Please, do-don’t leave me….”
It was hard to tell from a distance whether he was even still alive or not. That wasn’t going to stop Hyrule from doing what he could.
“I’m ready,” Hyrule panted, sliding to their sides. Twilight’s head snapped up at his sudden appearance, looking almost comically surprised. He reluctantly pulled back, letting Hyrule lean in to assess the damage.
Hyrule pressed his fingers against Time’s neck, ignoring a nearby clash of steel against steel that was far too close for comfort. The old man’s pulse was sluggish, but still strong. He turned his attention to the wound next. Head wounds were always tricky, but he knew that he could help.
He could feel Twilight’s eyes on him as he worked, watching with bated breath. The rancher always worried so much, but he seemed to especially lose his composure whenever Time was the one that was injured. It was hard not to wonder why.
By the time he’d finished healing their appointed leader and finally pulled back the battle around them had fallen silent. Hyrule got up, looking around once again. He spotted the chosen hero standing a ways away from the group, still heaving for breath. His tunic was steadily growing red, but either he didn’t notice or he didn’t care.
Hyrule marched over to the knight. “Sky! Let me heal your wound!”
Sky held his hands up placatingly, giving Hyrule a reassuring smile. “Oh, no need, Hyrule. I’m fine, it’s just a scratch.”
Ignoring his words, Hyrule reached out to poke around the wound, trying to gauge how bad it was. Sky immediately collapsed into a heap on the ground, gasping in pain.
Hyrule went down with him, placing a steadying hand on his back and frowning in concern. “Your wounds are deep. This can be dangerous if not treated immediately.”
Resigned to his fate, Sky didn’t resist as Hyrule finished off his magic, mending the wound back together. He gave him a grateful smile when he was done, one that the traveler gladly returned.
The battle over and everyone taken care of, Hyrule stepped away and let himself sit down roughly on the ground. His brothers were all okay.
He needed a nap.
The others set up camp around him, chatting quietly, the sound a pleasant hum washing over him. One by one each of the others came over, leaving gifts. Twilight’s pelt, Sky’s sailcloth, potions and milk and even an entire apple.
Hyrule got to work cutting the apple up into smaller pieces, struggling to stay awake, his eyes nearly crossing from the effort of keeping them open. He lifted his head from where it'd started to droop and resolved to himself to go to sleep after he finished eating the gifted fruit.
“Ouch!”
A sharp prick immediately brought him back to his senses. He stared down at his finger uncomprehendingly, nicked by his own knife.
Bleeding.
He was bleeding.
He yelled, drawing on the very last of his magic to heal the meager cut. Too close. That was far too close.
He felt eyes staring at him. Hyrule flushed, turning around to see the rest of the chain’s attention fully on him.
“You… okay, Rule?”
“Yeah. Yep.” He pulled the cloaks hanging off his shoulders tighter around him. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” Legend waved him off.
One by one, they went back to their conversation. The traveler looked back down at his apple, his ears bright red.
Hyrule wasn't a squeamish person. With his line of work he couldn't afford to be. But the sight of his own blood… the sight of his own blood had always made him feel sick. And knowing now that it was cursed too….
It was best not to leave his cuts unhealed, no matter how small they were.
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quitealotofsodapop · 4 months ago
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Did Tripitaka ever experience the heat of a tiger? It sure was confusing for him. Humans do not have mating seasons (we look for love when we want but this is not the case with animals).
It must have been difficult for him, especially around Azure. Did Tripitaka come to consider Azure as a potential mate during a time of mating?
OK this is nsft territory so be warned!
Tripitaka is an interesting character to analyze since he's supposed to represent The Ideal™ buddhist monk for his adhereance to the rules... but he's never known anything else really. He was raised in a monastery, and very soon after becoming a priest (and solving his dad's murder + losing his mom), got sent on the mission for the scriptures. Would he be as dilligently a buddhist if his parents had not undergone such tragedies?
Tripitaka never approaches sexuality in Jttw (his own or others) because in Buddhist belief; sexuality is considered a "worldly attraction" like vanity or pride. Same reason the book never has him eat meat, whether for survival or unintentional (like in the Spider Sisters arc). It blemishes his perfect record.
But since the Tiger Monk au has Tripitaka in a situation where he honestly can't uphold the very human standards of buddhism...
Our boy fighting some biological demons rn.
My idea of Tripitaka is that he's mostly on the aro-ace spectrum, but seriously questions his sexuality over the course of the Journey. Seeing hot demons and celestials of many genders does that to a sheltered religious guy.
Combine that with a tiger's seasonal heat, and you got a monk frothing at the mouth, trying to keep himself from acting reckless.
Tigers go into seasonal "heat" every 3-9 weeks depending on the individual. Anyone whos met an unfixed cat or heard a cougar sounding like someone being murdered will know that these mfs make sure that you know about it. Tigers in particular have a deep "Meow" sound they broadcast to find mates. They even have "first dates" to get to know each other. Example.
Tripitaka feels weird one day and subconsciously makes a deep meow sound - scaring the whole gang. Wukong is immediately is putting a bicycle lock on that cassock!
I feel even when pushed to the brink of his urges, Tripitaka wouldn't be comfortable "going all the way" unless its literally someone he wants to stay with for the rest of their near-immortal lives.
Also his disciples are off-limits; the mentor-disciple bond is too precious to him to risk over a selfish urge.
But, Azure Lion offers an opportunity. He's a fellow feline demon with a similar Buddhist background who understands Tripitaka's moral conflict weighing his desires over his faith. He isn't the monk's superior or inferior, so no issue of power imbalances.
Tripitaka needs a moment to think. And to draft a diagram of pros and cons.
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If these two ever did do "The Deed" (or just 3rd base)...
Macaque would be the first to know. And he'd be howling with laughter. XD At least until Azure threatens to tell the others why Macaque was in Wukong's room that very same night. Mutual glaring ensues.
And ofc Azure would be seconds away from being skinned alive by a quartet of the tiger's super-protective pilgrim brothers the very second of the them sniffs Tripitaka the next morning.
Peng would still brag in Azure's place as you can imagine - lion done pulled a baddie on insane difficulty. Yellow Tusk would shake his head in disapproval, but would also be a little impressed.
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localcanadiancreature62 · 2 months ago
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Fiddlestan au Stan and Fidds argument Post Weirdmaggedon
@mickeytk Here.
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Stan is watching the Duchess Approves in the living room as he hears the loud noises of Dipper and Mabel running around from upstairs as they do dumb kid stuff like forcing each other to gross smelling sniff scratch and sniff stickers,he sighs contentedly as he can finally have peaceful quiet moments like this again without having to worry about the portal or Bill hurting his family anymore. He then smiles as he turns up the volume of his favorite show while eating a can of meat. "Ah. This is the life. No Bill,no portal,no apocalypse,just me in my house and my family being left to their own devices. I sure hope this peace sticks forever." Stan says to himself as he enjoys his quiet afternoon,until he heard the rough knocking on the door. He decided to ignore it as he figured it was probably some dumb gnomes trying to get in and steal food again plus he was busy watching the good part where Duchess sues Count Lionel for killing her new husband. But the knocking persisted. He then groans in annoyance as he walked up to the door to answer it as neither the kids nor his brother were around to answer with them being busy having fun elsewhere. To his surprise,Fiddleford Mcgucket was at his door. He tried to not act happy about the southern man finally reaching out after those painful years of watching him lose himself. "What's your business here,Hick?. Tell me now or i'll shut the door on your freakishly long nose." Stan asks as the hillbilly looked at him with his big bright eyes and charming smile while he lightly blushed,the con man almost vomiting from the fact that the southerner STILL makes him feel this way even after how much he hurt him. "Ah just wanted to see Stanferd' so i could show him my new plans for creating a trapping device fer anomalies. And i.. want to talk to you." Fiddleford explains as he stared at the former grifter expectantly. "Ford's not here,Mcgucket. He's chasing some new moth species in the forest. Get lost." Stan says in frustration,not wanting to face his ex despite how his gut tells him that he absolutely needs to and even yearns to. Fidds isn't offended by the man's harshness in the slightest. As based on the things he recollected about the con's behavior through the kids telling him stories about him,he was always a grump who often avoided being "sappy" unless he couldn't take it anymore. "Well fine. I know how bad ya feel about our.. separation,darlin'. Stanferd' has been telling me about your guilt and how bad you took the heartbreak lately ever since he found out about our relationship. If ya really want me to leave again,i understand. Yer probably not ready to talk yet anyway-." Fiddleford remarks as he then tries to walk away,only for the swindler to grab him by the wrist. "Damnit Ford. I can't believe he told you even when i explicitly told him to NOT tell you anything about my pathetic moping over the break up. And uhhh,you can stay. I.. want to talk too." Stan replied as he opened the door a bit wider to let the hillbilly in as Fiddleford enters the building while the con guided him to the kitchen where they can discuss their relationship more comfortably. Stan sat in his chair while Fiddleford sat at the chair in front of him. "So what do you have to say for yourself?. After making me go through that dumb memory gun 'experiment',which was just an excuse to rope me into your problems." Stan says bitterly,leaving out the part where he heavily grieved the southern man after he lost his sanity in the final moments of the memory tapes before the car crash occurred. "Ah never meant to force you into anything back then. You were completely willing to help at first despite you being annoyed at having to be the camera man." Fiddleford explains as he watched the man shift uncomfortably in his seat.
"Well what about the part where you left me after that car crash and made ME fix the portal while i tried to avoid your cult mess?." Stan remarks as he balled his fists in anger while his hands are placed on the table,wanting to retaliate at the hillbilly for making him hurt for so long yet he doesn't as part of him still deeply cares about the nerd. "I- Ah wasn't in my right mind back then and i figured that the entire world was against me with my slipping sanity as well as paranoia. I had to leave,Stanley or else i wouldn't have held onto the sliver of peace i kept before i fully lost mah mind." Fiddleford says as he looked at the man in guilt,but then Stan banged his fist on the table as he couldn't take it anymore. He needed the hillbilly to know how bad he hurt him.
"YOUR peace?. What about me?,huh?. With the little sanity you had during that time,didn't you once think about how much your little memory gun fiasco affected ME?!. YOUR PARTNER?!. Don't you get it,Fiddlesticks?. You HURT me. You left me to suffer from your dwindling mental state and THEN you abandoned me last minute when your mind couldn't take it anymore,leaving ME to cover up all evidence of YOUR insane cult from the house. I spent those days of memory gun testing watching my beloved southern nerd,the person most important to me at the time,destroy himself with a damn memory erasing ray while you never even called or talked to me about what you were going through before you got into that cult." Stan exclaims as he started crying angry tears as Fiddleford gasps in disbelief at his reaction. "Stanley,hun. Ah had no choice!. Ah had no choice but to leave or else you would've been roped in deeper into my problems. I couldn't reach out because i felt like clawing mah skull with every memory erasure!. Do ya know how hard it was to keep it together while knowin' full well that the gun was ruining me?!." Fiddleford says in slight annoyance over the con not considering how he felt at the time. "No no YOU don't understand. Do you know how hard it was for ME,to see your unhinged bastard self everyday while knowing full well that i couldn't talk to you about what happend with your empty noggin?!. I spent half of my life thinking that it was my fault,Fiddleford. I kept thinking that i was the reason why you went back to using that damned gun,i hated myself for never talking about our issues which lead to you using the memory gun with our every argument. Something i didn't know was actually ruining your brilliant mind with every use." Stan explains as he kept crying,more out of sadness and hurt this time instead of rage. "I did everything for you. I protected you from monsters,i made dinner for you even when i was used to living off of granola bars and couldn't cook for shit,i comforted you every time you had nightmares about Ford coming back to hurt you for quitting the project. Yet you still subjected me to that memory gun shit,and you left me despite everything we've been through together. Heh. Every time i get attached to someone,they always leave me in the end. Whether it's Ford,my old heist buddies Jorge and Rico,or you." Stan remarks bitterly as tears fell on his chest while he kept bawling from the horrible heartbreak as Fiddleford took a guilty glance at him,as he never knew how bad his dwindling sanity affected the man until now. "I.. Stanley. I'm so sorry. I- I had no idea that what i did hurt you that much. I never meant to hurt you,i just made a lot of regrettable decisions and my past arguments with you were just the catalyst. It was never your fault,the blame is all on me. I didn't mean to make you suffer with my problems,i sincerely apologize and i feel terrible for doing all of that to you without realizing how much it hurt ya." Fiddleford explains as he expresses genuine regret for his actions,but the con turns his back on him and refuses to accept his apology. "Sorry won't reverse the unimaginable amount of heartbreak you gave me." Stan says in slight annoyance,as he has accepted the man's apology but he's still angry at him for never explaining himself until 30 years have passed.
"Will this change yer mind?." Fiddleford replied as he then kissed the con straight on the mouth as he placed a light peck on his grifter's lips,the man blushing as he pulled away while leaving the man dumbfounded as Stan laughed from being tickled by the hillbilly's trimmed beard. "Ahahahaha! Fidds,your beard made my mouth feel funny." Stan remarks as he smiled at the hillbilly slyly looked at him. "But ah thought you were still mad at me?~." Fiddleford says as he blushes while staring at the con with pure love in his eyes. "I'm not anymore. Now that you gave me that long overdue apology and that great kiss~." Stan replied as he then kisses the southern nerd again,giving him a longgg slobbery smooch as the saliva connecting their lips breaks soon after he pulls away. "Ah missed yer kisses,and that adorable laugh." Fiddleford says as he smiled at the con,with Stan smiling back as he finally got his nerd back. All he wanted was to hear the man apologize,and get his hillbilly back instead of constantly seeing that empty mindless and insane husk that he became everyday,and he got both in one fateful afternoon. "I missed ya too,Fiddlesticks. I'm so glad to have you back. And we have plenty of time to make up for lost time before the kids come over to pester us about our relationship." Stan remarks as he then looked at the nerd with adoring eyes. "I'd like that. But first,let me hold you again like i always did. C'mere." Fiddleford replied as he gestures for the con to come over,which he obliges as he let himself get tightly embraced by the taller elder as he started crying tears of joy as he hasn't had felt the warm touch of his nerd in years (someone help this touch starved man). Fiddleford then winces in guilt as he thought he messed up again. "Hey,what's wrong?. Why are ya cryin' again?." Fiddleford asks as he kept gently holding his grifter in his arms. "N-Nothing. It's just- I haven't felt your warm embrace in such a long time. I'm so happy to feel it again." Stan replied as he smiled at his nerd while Fiddleford sighs in relief. "And am' glad to hold ya again. C'mere,darlin'." Fiddleford says as he then grabbed the man by the shirt collar as he lightly made out with him,with both of them blushing deeply as Fidds gently caressed his con man's face. Stan smiled through the kiss as he realized that he'll finally get to spend the rest of his life with the southern nerd he adores as he makes up for the time that the memory gun robbed from him.
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nevesmose · 7 months ago
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I don't know anywhere near enough about Sanguinius to metaphorically crochet him into a little finger puppet for my primarch fics but how about a little baseless speculation about him and Fulgrim? Please note that this is all based on how I view them in the universe of my silly little stories and is in no way a claim about knowing how they are in canon / lore.
I would probably a) portray Sanguinius as a genuinely sweet adorable cinnamon roll too precious for this world and b) have Fulgrim utterly loathe him because of this.
I tend to write Fulgrim as being a pleasant and charming person who, deep down, is about 50% a deeply broken overthinking ultra-perfectionist and 50% really jealous and vindictive. Please understand that this isn't me saying he's just evil and always was because it really really isn't. It's entirely possible for someone with these traits to function perfectly well in society and not be a bad person in any meaningful sense.
However.
One of his formative experiences as a primarch was almost losing his entire legion due to the Blight corrupted geneseed that almost wiped them out right at the start.
He had to build them up himself from nothing with the constant threat of annihilation both in the sense that "if I fuck up a war and lose however-many thousand Astartes in a terrible accident on the double-ended dildo planet I have no reserves or replacements" and also "every use of our geneseed is a gamble against the horrific mutation coming back and destroying us all over again". In that context the solution he turns to, and the only one that probably makes sense based on his prior experience on Chemos, is perfection.
Make no mistakes, ever, anywhere, because the cost of failure is incalculable, even if it means committing science-treason so you can purge all weakness from your own space dudes. It's not a desire for perfection based on arrogance, although he is of course immensely arrogant in a lot of ways, but one motivated deep down by fear.
People like to clown on Fulgrim based on Jaghatai's infamous "I hear you do strange things to your warriors 😂👌" sick burn, but to be honest, viewed from his context, what Fulgrim's doing is somewhat understandable.
That is if we assume that the Khan isn't just making a cheap insult but rather is implying he knows a lot more than would be preferable about Fabius dicking around with Astartes genetics in order to detect and eliminate carriers of the corrupted gene-seed so that the III Legion, one of the smallest of all numerically, can still survive. And then a lot of other things too because, like Fabius could believably say in one of the weirder McNeill stories, forbidden science is akin to the ancient Terran delicacy known as Pringles. Once you pop you can't stop.
With that in mind it feels like a lot of Fulgrim's post-heresy actions, not just the snake orgies but the general distance and lack of care for his sons, comes from revelling in just finally being free of that level of stress and pressure weighing down on him at all times. Even Perturabo doesn't withdraw from the Iron Warriors that much and he's a dick.
Anyway, back to pre-heresy days. He has all this going on and then in comes Sanguinius with his giant fucking angel wings who everyone loves and who turned his legion into One Direction (not really but you know... perceptions vs reality and no one in this setting actually communicates with one another since they'd probably have a lot in common regarding fears of being mutants etc)
It's the kind of thing that I think would feel like a dagger in the heart to someone like Fulgrim. Directly highlighting and literally embodying all of his fears about mutation and imperfection and yet somehow appearing to get away with it while he has to exercise constant control and do horrible things simply in order for his legion to exist.
So for that reason I think he would absolutely hate Sangy and do everything he could to undermine him.
"Oh no, brother! I've accidentally spilled this entire Big Gulp cup of bright red Tizcan wine all over your beautiful white wings, and only moments before you were due to make a speech to ten million people about how wonderful the Imperium is! Let me help you clean it up."
And then he pulls out a Looney Tunes sized bottle labelled Fabius's Finest Molt-O-Matic Guaranteed Feather Remover and starts spraying it on him.
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beezz-are-buzzing · 8 months ago
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A Helping Hand
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Pairing- Nate doe x fem!reader
Summary- Nate loses his virginity
Warnings- subby!Nate kinda, just smut really. 1.3k words
This is based off of @hysteria-things and the anon on her blog. I hope y’all like it.
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“What secret are you keeping from your brothers?”
A helping hand
“What secret are you keeping from your brothers?”
“Hmm, oh, I know when I was 12, I accidentally broke Nick's vinyl and blamed it on Chris” I answer with a small giggle, remembering the memory.
“Okay my turn, what is your favorite sexual experience” I ask, watching as Nate’s face immediately turns red, and he starts to fiddle with his hands.
“I'm a virgin” he replied shyly.
“You can't be serious. You, Nathan Doe, are a virgin. You’re lying” I scoff with a laugh.
“Stop laughing” Nate whispers, trying to hide his red-tinted cheeks. Sliding closer to Nate on the couch, I gently lay my hand on his knee. Placing my other hand under Nate's chin, I force him to look into my eyes.
“So you're telling me that you, Nathan Doe, have never had sex. Has anyone ever given you a handjob or wrapped their lips around your pretty cock huh?” Nate gulps as he quickly shakes his head no.
“You know I can help you out with that. Is that something you would like baby” I ask. I'm keeping my eyes on his own. Holding in my laugh as Nate starts to eagerly nod his head.
“No baby, I need your verbal consent”
“Yes please help me please” Nate whines. A quiet whimper escapes his throat as I gingerly slide my hand up his thigh to rest on the tent forming in his sweatpants.
“Tell me, Nate, what exactly do you want from me?” I question slowly, starting to rub him through his pants.
“I don't know” he forces out in a breathless whisper. His eyes squeeze shut as he focuses on the pleasure of my hand.
“Come on, baby. You know what you want, tell me or I’ll stop” I demand bringing my hand to a stop.
“No no no I’ll tell you, I want you to suck me off please” Nate pleads.
“There you go, baby. I knew you could do it” I praise as I give him a small kiss to test the waters. Pulling away Nate chases my lips. Finding his nerve Nate uses his hand to bring me back into a feverish kiss. Breaking apart, I lean back to quickly pull off my tank top. My nipples immediately pebble from the slight breeze flowing in from the window of Nate’s Treehouse. Nate’s eyes immediately fall to my breasts as his jaw drops open a little bit.
“Do you like what you see baby” I tease before reconnecting our lips. Distracted by the feel of Nate's lips, I almost didn't notice the way Nate brought his hand up to gently cup my breast, causing me to moan softly into his mouth. Breaking the kiss, I slide off the couch to settle on my knees between Nate’s parted thighs. Sliding my fingers tips into his waistband. I look into Nate’s eyes loving the way I can see the silent plea in his eyes begging me to continue without making a sound.
“Are you sure you wanna do this baby?” I ask softly. A smile spreads across my face as he immediately starts nodding his head with yes and pleases spilling from his lips.
“Lift your hips baby” I softly order pulling his sweats and boxers down his pink cock springing up to slap against his clothed stomach.
“Fuck Nate I was right you do have a pretty cock” I whisper as I spit on my hand before starting to stroke his hard cock. I watch as Nate throws his head back and lets soft moans and low groans escape his throat. Leaning in to kitten lick to the tip. The whimper that came out of Nate’s mouth had me squeezing my thighs together. That whimper gave me the right amount of encouragement to wrap my lips around the pink head. Slowly sliding his cock further into my mouth slightly gagging when the tip hits the back of my throat.
I start to bob my head up and down, using my hand to stroke what I can't fit in my mouth.
“Fuck go faster please” Nate begs causing me to move faster. The slight shake of Nate’s thighs and the consistent begs of Please tell me that Nate is close. Pulling away from his cock leaving a small kiss on the tip. I see a silent tear run down his face. Frustrated from his ruined orgasm.
“Oh, it's okay baby don't cry. You get to cum I promise” I tell him as I stand to my feet. Placing a sweet, gentle kiss on his lips. I wipe the tears from his cheek. I stand back to slip my leggings and panties off my legs.
Straddling Nate’s lap, I begin to slowly grind my hips down. Coating his cock in my juices. Trailing kisses down his neck, I bring my hands to the hem of his t-shirt.
“Let's take this off” I whisper as I lean back to take his shirt off.
“You know you can touch me right” I say as he guides his hands to my hips. The confirmation was all Nate needed to grip my hips, forcing me to grind down harder and faster. He leans forward to capture a nipple in his mouth, causing me to throw my head back in a moan.
“That's it, baby, you got this” I gasped out through the pleasure. Pushing Nate back by his shoulders, I crash my lips into his with desperation. Reaching to grab his cock beginning to rub the head through my wet folds. Lining him up with my entrance, I get ready to sink down.
“Wait what about a condom?” Nate breathes out.
“ I'm on the pill. Is that okay?” I ask, looking into his eyes. With a nod of his head, I start to slowly sink down. As I reach the bottom, my head falls forward onto Nate's shoulder.
“Fuck Nate you feel so good” I moan out as I begin to rock my hips up and down. Nate’s grip on my hip tightens as he throws his head back, a soft moan slipping from his mouth.
“Nate fuck, tell me how it feels. Does it feel good” I demand, trying to hold back my moans as I speed up the movement of my hip.
“Yes fuck it feels so good faster please” he begs using his hands to try and get my hips to move faster. I can feel his thighs start to shake under me.
“Are you close baby hmm” I tease him.
“Here touch me right here,” I tell him as I guide one of his hands down. Showing him how to use his thumb to rub circles onto my clit.
“God Nate, you're doing so good. Keep going. I'm close please” I plead as the movements of my hips become uneven and slower. leaning my forehead back down on Nate's shoulder, a surprised gasp leaves my mouth as Nate suddenly stops his assault on my clit to grab both of my hips to begin thrusting up into me.
“Nate” I moan as the sudden movement causes me to tip over the edge. My orgasm triggers Nate’s as he spills his warm seed into me, holding my hips tight against his as he moans into my neck.
keeping my head on Nate’s shoulder, I sit still for a moment as I catch my breath.
“Let's get cleaned up okay” I breathe out before slowly standing up and grabbing Nate’s shirt to wipe down both of our thighs. Nate pulls his boxers and sweats up as I start to get dressed.
“How was that for your first time” I jokingly ask sitting down next to him covering us both up with a blanket.
“It was good thank you” he whispers pulling me into a quick kiss.
“I can’t believe you just lost your virginity in your tree house” I giggled, causing Nate to laugh out loud.
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Well here is my first fic on this blog so I hope you enjoy my writing but if you don’t my asks are open for feedback.
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windblume-violet · 2 months ago
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Matilda role analysis based on the latest event
THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR FLOOR IT! TO THE GOLDEN CITY. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
I have to start this off with definitions of archetypal roles in literature if only, to ease you into what I am trying to say: A Main Character is the player through whom the audience experiences the story first hand, a Protagonist is the prime mover of the plot, and a Hero is a combination of both Main Character and Protagonist.
With that in mind, I'd like to state: Matilda is a Main Character and Joe is the Protagonist. I could, of course, be convinced of Joe being of the Hero archetype—if only because we see his perspective in glimpses. Mercuria is considered none of them in my opinion though. In fact, I'd argue to say Mercuria simply plays a supportive role. She is not a side or minor role, but a supporting role. Integral to plot, but not the driving force itself.
The driving force has always been Joe after all. Whether it's when Legers sent Gio to gather information on Joe to get, "A slice of the New Age Market pie," or when he enters the local Foundation building to find his estranged sister Paulina. In fact, when he goes to the Foundation, he causes a chain reaction that leads our main character Matilda to take center stage in search of him. He makes plans and deals in the background, while having Mercuria defect to branch the gaps between Legers hand and his own.
Our eyes and ears are Matilda, and after a certain point what we know and see is from her perspective. From her perspective, we see Legers pressure Joe with Hollick's life. We see Joe lose favor unfairly through her eyes. We believe that the only people still on Joe's side is Pioneer, Catseye Wisen, and Matilda. We don't realize that Mercuria is releasing Legers from the Order of Enlightenment through easing his denial and grief of his dying twin brother. We don't see Joe making agreements in the background, and we certainly don't realize others had access to the Elysium through Joe's dealings. We only learn bits and pieces at the very end where it comes to a head. To the point I began considering Matilda and Matheus as narrative foils to one another. As both are outsiders to the New Age Market crew in varying ways.
In Matheus's case, he is a member of Manus Vindicatae running the Order of Enlightenment cult in the New Age Market. His goals were to drain followers of the cult of all their valuables, and turn them into mindless Manus Vindicatae followers. All of it was meant to be given in tribute to the Guiding One. While he did ensare many of the more vulnerable and gullible citizens within San Francisco's New Age Market area; he could not ensare Joe, Mercuria, Becket, Hollick, or Catseye Wisen. Their distrust of authority and outsiders prevented him from truly leaving the city in the wake of a tragedy. He was never one of them, nor could he ever truly steal anyone from the New Age Market's tightknit community.
Whereas for Matilda, she's from the Saint Pavlov Foundation, sent to capture Joe because he broke visitors confidentiality regulations. She starts off just as rocky as Matheus, but unlike Matheus, she earns the New Age Market crew's respect through her actions against the cult and Manus Vindicatae. Although, they do still keep at an arm's length in their plans. Matilda may have their respect in regards to her determination to help them, but they do not trust her succeed. Let alone get them back up from the Foundation. They believe they have to solve it themselves, and solving it exactly what they do. It is only in the epilogue that Joe lets her fully into the inner circle by giving her a badge representing the trust and respect she's earned from them.
In a way, Matilda proves to Joe that he can trust the Foundation to help through her willingness to sacrifice herself for his survival, and even at the behest of his pleas for her to do otherwise. Despite his attempts to prevent her sacrifice and his own likely demise, Matilda and Joe fall unconscious, unaware of what is to happen next. In those unseeing moments, Matilda's promises of Foundation backpack come to fruition. All of this convinces Joe to leave San Francisco's New Age Market to Legers to join the Foundation, and giving Matilda the badge that signifies her place within his community as his friend.
As the epilogue begins to shift, Joe's story as the Protagonist ends. Moving Matilda's role as the Main Character to slightly into the role of Hero, while she searches for the whereabouts of her mother. With that note, I am almost certain Matilda's will end up the Hero of a future patch. Her character arc is not yet over, just as it began in Mor Pankh and it will not end in San Francisco. I cannot wait to see where Bluepoch takes us with her as the game continues it's journey.
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misc-obeyme · 1 year ago
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For kinktober, maybe Leviathan and dacryphilia? I want to make that boy SOB-
So excited for this! I always love your work
Hello, anon! And thank you, I'm glad you're enjoying my writing! <3
Okay, hopefully I didn't go overboard with how much Levi is crying, but you said you want to make him sob, so here we are lol. I very much believe that it's praise that will make Levi cry every time. Is that based on personal experience? No absolutely not. I just want to praise him until the end of time, that's all.
Anyway, I'm hoping this turned out okay!
Thanks for submitting a prompt!
KINKTOBER 2023
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GN!MC x Leviathan
NSFW MDNI
Warnings: dacryphilia, penetration (reader receiving), pet name (for Levi, also I almost never include pet names but it just felt right this time lol I'm sorry in advance)
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It was a quiet day at the House of Lamentation. For once, you were almost alone in the house. Most of the brothers were out somewhere else. Lucifer was in his office working and Leviathan was with you, but otherwise the place was empty.
You had convinced Levi to leave his room long enough to come to your room because you wanted to watch anime with him while sitting comfortably on your bed. Levi was a blushing mess as you settled in beside him. It was clear he was trying not to react to the way you rested your head on his shoulder.
About halfway through the episode, you noticed that Levi was squirming quite a bit beside you. It wasn't like him to get distracted while watching anime, so you turned your head to look at his face.
You weren't surprised to see his blush, but he also wasn't even looking at the screen. You felt around for the remote, finding it under your fingers before pausing the show.
Levi blinked. "Huh? Why did you pause it?"
"You aren't even watching," you said, sitting up to look at him more directly.
Levi rubbed at the back of his head, his eyes on the ceiling. "Of course I was! The librarian was about to take off her glasses and reveal her beauty!"
This was proof of nothing because it was obvious that was about to happen next. Any otaku worth his salt would've been able to tell you that, even if he hadn't been paying attention. You squinted at Levi, trying to figure out what was really going on.
Your eyes traveled down from his face and that was when you finally figured it out. The bulge in Levi's pants was so obvious, you weren't sure how you didn't notice it earlier. You smirked.
"Oh," you said. "I see what the problem is."
"Y-you do?" Levi practically squeaked, still unable to look at you.
You leaned forward and put a hand on his bulge. "Why don't we take care of this so that you can focus on the show, hmm?"
Levi whimpered. "I'm so sorry, MC!" he burst out. "I'm just a gross otaku and I'm not even good at that! How could I lose focus like this during such an important episode! You don't have to do anything. Just let me go back to my own room in shame."
He was about to scramble off your bed, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. You straddled his hips before he could try to get away again.
"Absolutely not," you said, looking down at him. You put your fingertips on his lips. "You aren't gross, Levi. Right now? All I want to do is ride you."
Levi stared at you, seemingly at a loss for words. "Y-you want to…?"
You brushed some of his hair back and out of his eyes. "Don't you get it? I think you're beautiful. You're perfect."
The tears that filled Levi's eyes surprised you. He took in a shaky breath and closed them, causing the tears to spill over and run down his cheeks.
"No, no, baby," you said, leaning down to kiss the tears off his skin. "If you're going to cry it's because I'm making you feel good, got it?"
Levi couldn't even formulate a response. You had to take control, moving enough to pull down his pants and freeing his cock. It was still hard, even leaking, and you pumped it a few times with your hand. You were rewarded with a throaty moan, slightly tinged with the thickness of Levi's tears.
You moved enough of your own clothing to allow you to position yourself to take him in.
You paused, hands on Levi's shoulders, and looked into his eyes. They were still wet and he looked up at you as though he couldn't believe you were even real. You smiled and maintained eye contact with him while you lowered yourself down on his cock.
You weren't able to keep your eyes on him for long because they rolled back as you went all the way down, feeling the tip hit that perfect spot inside you. You moaned and Levi whimpered.
Levi's hands went to your hips, resting there almost hesitantly. You began to move and you weren't gentle. You already couldn't get enough of his cock, bouncing quickly in his lap. Levi's hands gripped harder as you did this, like he couldn't help it.
"MC, MC," he moaned out your name. When you looked at him again, you saw the tears had returned. They were trailing down his cheeks.
You put your hands on either side of his face. "These better be tears of pleasure," you said between your heavy breaths.
Levi only nodded, unable to speak. His eyes were closed now, tears continuing to seep out of them, running into your fingers.
You increased the pace, chasing that high you could feel yourself so close to. The build up and the tension filling you, as you felt Levi begin to thrust up into you, his cock hitting you so perfectly, his tears damp against your skin.
Levi cried out as he came, voice still thick with tears, and the sound of it pushed you over the edge. You clamped down on his shoulders as you felt your mingled liquids dripping down your legs.
You rested your forehead against his, gently wiping away all of his tears. "Hush now," you said. "You were amazing, Levi."
Later you would be able to finish watching the episode you had paused. But Levi insisted on keeping his head in your lap the whole time, seemingly unable to look at you. He was embarrassed about crying so much, no matter how you reassured him. You made a mental note that complimenting Levi a lot was the way to turn on the waterworks.
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flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!
taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname
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kastlequill · 1 year ago
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i/v. ‘til my pulse loses time: pulsus bisferiens
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pairing: kyle gaz garrick x f!reader word count: 1.3k synopsis: the first time you save gaz tags: whumptober, gunshot wounds, blood and injury, wound tending, hurt/comfort, medic!reader, 4+1, no y/n warnings: none ao3: read here next →
I.
Tuesdays were unremarkable. They couldn’t compare to the infamous Mondays or halfway-mark Wednesdays, to anticipatory Thursdays or the thank-God-it’s Fridays, least of all to the relaxing Saturdays and Church-going Sundays.
The new orders you received last Tuesday, however, were anything but plain. There was nothing ordinary about getting shipped out to a classified location to provide aid to the soldiers injured during their classified missions to eliminate classified targets.
You knew next to nothing about your current assignment. High command had informed you that you’d be working as the lead on-site medic, tending to the wounded and assisting in their recovery to the best of your abilities. That was all your superiors had felt the need to tell you.
The base of operation was fairly sizable, well stocked, and even had a couple other medical personnel around to help too, so you couldn’t really complain. You’d primarily be dealing with soldiers who were designated as special operators, and, in your experience, those types made absolute dogshit patients. Only a single week had passed, yet you could already tell that some of the lot were more injury-prone than others.
A specific British SAS sergeant came to mind.
Your first time meeting him had been relatively benign; he’d entered the mess hall as you exited. Although speedily heading in different directions, he had nonetheless offered a casual salute, and you had returned his gesture with a nod of your own. Simple, polite. No fuss.
The exact opposite of how he arrived to you today, the second Tuesday of the month.
Two towering men flanked him on either side as they shouldered their half-conscious comrade into your medbay. With them came chaos. Thick English accents yelling for a medic, combat boots storming toward you, dragging in a trail of blood. They brought war to your feet and Death to your door.
Rushing over to them, you quickly scanned the sergeant’s body for damage. Preliminary assessments yielded speculative results at best: a tourniquet around his thigh told of prior heavy bleeding, and the sway of his head meant he wasn’t fully capable of supporting its weight. But nothing was certain. 
“What am I dealing with here? Concussion, gunshot wound, broken bones—?”
“—got caught in the blast radius,” interrupted a gruff voice belonging to the masked lieutenant. “Knocked ‘im back a few meters. No major visible injuries, ‘cept a bullet to the leg.” 
You swore. “Is it still inside?” 
Exit wounds typically offered a better prognosis; the energy driving forth a gunshot needed somewhere to go, and, preferably, that somewhere was far from surrounding organs or internal systems. If the piece of metal remained lodged inside of him, then you would have to remove it.
He answered with a single definitive nod. Unsurprising; of course nothing in war ever turned out for the better.
“Put him on my table. Carefully.” 
The two soldiers hauled their brother-in-arms up onto the examination table that had seen more action within a week than most ever did. Trauma to the head required immediate attention; the brain was a delicate organ, and if the explosion had badly jostled it against the walls of his skull, there could be severe damage.
Unwilling to waste a second longer, you gently parted the now-supine man’s eyelids with your fingertips to get a look at his pupils. In the midst of an unfocused sea of brown, one pupil was more dilated than the other—concussed, then. At the intensity of the blue overhead light, he reflexively squinted and shut his eyes once more.
That wouldn’t do. “Sergeant, I need you to open those eyes again, okay? Think you can track this flashlight for me?”
Being as sensitive to brightness as he was currently, it took some effort for him to pry his eyes open. They valiantly fought the urge to close whilst following the stick-end of your black flashlight from left to right, right to left. There was some unsteady shakiness to their movement, but they still appeared properly calibrated.
“You’re doing great,” you encouraged, holding his gaze as you pocketed the light. The next course of action was to check his processing of visual information. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
He blinked slowly, an inquisitive frown contorting his features. Several confusion-riddled seconds elapsed until the man decided to simply feel what he could not see. Grasping your hand in his own, he grazed your knuckles with a calloused thumb, explored the lengths of your raised fingers, puzzled out how they were configured into the shape of a peace sign. Recognition sparked in his eyes.
“Two.”
An endeared smile graced your lips. The only predictable constant in this profession was its unpredictability. None of your previous patients had done that before.
“Try again.” You lightly pulled your hand free and watched his own fall back to rest on his chest, physically unable to sustain the lifted position. Unfurling your ring finger to join your index and middle, three total fingers hovered in front of his face, just out of reach. “How many do you see now?”
Without using his sense of touch to determine the correct number, all the sergeant could do was sigh and reply honestly. “Six.”
“Y’can’t be serious, Gaz. The limit’s five,” his mohawked companion corrected, a hint of incredulity and amusement slipping into his tone.
“Quit taking the piss, we’ve got ten of ‘em.” The words were slurred, but intelligible. As he spoke, his brows began to furrow, the man suddenly unsure of himself. He looked at the captain, whose belated entrance managed to diffuse some of the anxiety present in the room. “Right, sir?”
The room erupted with noise as the three other soldiers simultaneously began to talk over each other. You were able to catch the occasional bloody hell and heard yes, Gaz, that’s right and even chuckled a bit at no need to worry, you still ‘ave all ten of the little bastards.
Military folk had a specific way of coping with the consequences of war, and you didn’t think you would ever quite understand it from your side of the line. But if it worked, then it worked. What mattered was the patient’s ability to persist in spite of the world; the exact methods used to do so weren’t up for scrutiny, not by you or anyone else.
Donning a clean pair of surgical gloves, you exchanged glances with the technician and nurse on duty. “Get him a CT scan. Let’s make sure his brain’s in one piece, then we can deal with the bullet. I’ll prep the OR.”
When you made to leave, a tug on your wrist stopped you in your tracks. A quick turn of your head revealed the image of his loose yet insistent grip around you once again, unwilling to let go of what had seemingly become his sole anchorage to the land of the living.
“Don’t worry,” you said softly, squeezing his hand in yours. This—comforting the wounded—was as much a part of the healing process as medicine itself. Even the toughest of soldiers reverted to a childlike state of vulnerability after too close a brush with death. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”
The tension in his features relaxed as did his hold on you, and he lowered himself to lay flat on the table’s surface before being wheeled away by the technician. As you watched his form disappear beyond the threshold of a plastic curtain, you were struck with a near-overwhelming sense of foreboding.
Though you hoped this Gaz wouldn’t soon return with an irremediable injury, optimism had never been your strong suit.
tbc.
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