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eviesaurusrex · 1 month ago

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Though I'm just halfway through Iron Flame and don't know how Xaden turns into a venin and of like rest of the fandom and Vi, as of now we don't know the cure for it too. I stumbled upon some 'venin-cure' theories and one of it inspired this idea so hear me out.

Ik Xaden turned into a venin for Violet. As per theories, if he can become one for his love, he has come into the realization and give up what he took (the direct power).

Finally the idea: the reader is actually pregnant. It's up to you if Xaden knew it earlier or not but maybe like idk they're in a war zone or whatever situation, he was going to kill somebody or whatever and at that moment reader faces Xaden. Telling him that she's not going to fight him, she let go of her dagger or sword, trying to remind him of himself, showing him his ring still on her finger. When she sees him calming down, she may take his hand and touch her barely visible (or visible) belly, begging him to let go of the power, reminding him that he's in control of himself, begging him to come to her and their baby.

summary: After Xaden turned venin, YN tries everything in her power to get the love of her life—and the father of her unborn child—back.

word count: 5.3k (whoopsie-daisy)

warnings: dragons, injuries, weapons, blood, pregnant!YN, incorrect events, my lacking knowledge about the majority of IF and OS, my take on the venin topic, angst, survivor’s guilt, fluff, Brennan being the older brother type of friend, venin!Xaden, post-venin!Xaden

author’s note: Thank you for the ask, dear anon! I haven’t read Iron Flame and Onyx Storm yet (I’ve started with IF a couple days ago), so this is my take on the plot and has nothing to do with the actual plot in the books. I hope you enjoy my silly ideas! (And please, don’t come for my head :x) I'm sorry it took so long to get this thing done—I just couldn't stop writing. The dividers are made by @enchanthings-a!

Startled, YN woke with a gasp, her hand instinctively flying toward her lower abdomen, touching the tightly laced flight leathers, and took one steadying breath when she felt the still unfamiliar tiny bump one could easily miss. It wasn't broad knowledge that she expected a child because if so, no sane member of the squad would allow her to continue flying out with them, fighting with them. Only one person knew of her condition—the one person she couldn't hide a thing like that from, not when he was to keep mending her injuries after a particularly gruesome fight. He had felt it the second his hand had touched her shoulder, and there was nothing she could've said in order to convince him of being wrong about it.

She had known for a while.

But she had more pressing matters at hand not to think too closely about what this would mean in the foreseeable future.

Finally, YN realized what had woken her, and her eyes immediately jumped toward the commotion in the hallway, the door ajar and not fully closed. Voices echoed into the dim sitting room she had chosen a few hours ago when she had returned from her patrol on dragon back, her body aching and filled with exhaustion. Only a few hours and then you wake me again, she had told Violet and Mira, but obviously, neither of the women had respected her wish. Typical. The thought crossed her when YN pulled herself up, quietly grunting when her feet still burned, and her back still struck her with searing pain.

Sleeping on a couch wasn't the wisest of the ideas she had in the last couple of weeks.

"No, Violet," Brennan's voice suddenly cut the air in a tone one rarely witnessed the eldest Sorrengail use. "But—" Violet tried to interfere, and with quiet steps, YN rounded the coffee table, heart galloping in her ribcage. "I said No." Another voice entered the conversation the woman had a hunch was about her. "She'd want to know, Brennan. If the report is true, it's Xaden, and we're talking about YN, for heaven's sake. She'd want to know," Garrick almost hissed behind the door, and her heart rate sped up even more, her breath hitching.

Xaden…?

The Sorrengail practically growled at that, and the shadow now stretching through the crack in the door was most definitely his as he stepped in front of it, blocking the way. "Let her sleep—she needs it. Have you seen her when she came back?! She isn't in the constitution to fly back into a battle which could easily end her life if it's really Xaden. Have you thought about that for just a second? What it would do to her? How distracting it would be because all she will think about is how to save him, but not herself?"

Brennan was right; even YN could admit that. But despite how much she had grown to like him—even love him as the brother she never had—he couldn't stop her from whatever she tried to accomplish, especially not when it happened to concern the one man she loved more than anything in this world. So it was easy to grab the sword resting against the armchair and push it into the sheath strapped across her back, the quiver and bow following closely.

The steps of her boots echoed through the room, not caring if anyone would hear her because she would be gone before they'd realize she had been awake to overhear them. She knew Riorson House better than her own home, so it was easy to open the double-sided windows into the morning hours of the day barely beginning, the sky tinted a pretty hue of pink and red. Her feet found the stone edge of the windowsill, and her hands grabbed onto the sturdy vines climbing across this side of the house, and with a grace she didn't feel like having in her tired body anymore, YN swung herself into the green and climbed down, disappearing into the city.

Her mind opened further and searched for the bond to her dragon, feeling his dark presence in the back of her mind, his focus sharp and unyielding. "Are we off to another battle, Stormy One?" If the situation were different, YN would probably huff at the silly nickname the dark beast had given her even before her signet had manifested. "Yes—and I don't want to hear a single word about not being allowed to do so anymore. I'm not made of glass all of a sudden." She would never sit behind just to please others, not when the happiness of her future was hinging by an almost nonexistent thread.

YN would never leave him behind in the dirt, having to fend and fight for himself like he had done for so long. No, she would move heavens and earths in order to find the one thing that would bring him back.

The dragon huffed into her mind, displeasure evident. "I am not one of your human friends, girl. I may not feel entirely content with flying into battles while you are carrying a child, but I will protect you both. Nothing will happen to either you or the little one." His words hung heavy between them; not only a fickle promise but a vow. "I will hold you to that," her voice only a whisper, her hand gently touching the leathers across her belly when she reached the outskirts of the city where the dragons rested.

Tairn was already in front of them, Sgaeyl right next to him, and both dragons watched the woman stepping closer, determination evident on YN's face. "It is him, girl, isn't it?" Her voice flooded her mind, and YN stopped before the blue daggertail, nodding at her question. "Yes." It was as simple as that. "I do not know how you gather all this hope in your heart, and I do not need to understand it. But if one can find a cure and bring him back, it is you, storm wielder." Swallowing, YN stretched one hand out when Sgaeyl lowered her proud head and pressed the side of it against the small palm, warmth seeping into her skin at the contact of the blue scales. "I cannot lose hope. I won't. Not with so much at stake."

It wasn't just her life that could be ruined if she failed, but the life of her unborn child as well. She didn't want the tiny being growing inside her to grow up without a father, without the man YN had learned to love so deeply; it seemed impossible at the beginning. This baby had a right to know their extraordinary father—not just through stories and whispered tales behind closed doors.

The ring resting on her left finger felt heavy at that moment; the promise they had made to one another was almost like a burden on her shoulders. If Xaden couldn't carry it, she would do it for both of them until they stood in front of a priest, blessing their union, and making them one in the eyes of the gods.

"YNN—fuck!"

The shouted curse made her turn, blinking against the rising sun to find Garrick stumbling uphill, almost losing his footing in the dewy grass. "YN!" His eyes found her when he stumbled across a stone, and his massively built body was almost floored to the ground. "And that one is bonded to Chradh?" Sgaeyl growled without a flicker of humor, but YN knew—the blue daggertail meant it that way. She had it in her—somewhere. At least Tairn huffed in amusement for a moment before his protectiveness demanded its place, and he took one earth-shaking step forward, growling in warning when Garrick finally reached them.

The brunet watched both dragons with raised hands before he stared at YN, almost pleadingly. Icy coldness flooded her body, and she slowly shook her head. "No," she said definitively. "You won't make me stay." She turned, ready to climb Tairn's leg and leave Aretia behind, flying into battle just like the other riders already in the skies. The sound of his steps made her stop with her hands on the black scales, followed by the words she didn't anticipate. "I'd never dream of it, YNN. I want to come with you." Turning again, the woman watched him, one of her closest friends, trying to decipher if he truly meant it. "You want to come with me?" It sounded more surprised than she had initially planned, and he seemed relieved by her question. "Yes. I know you have Tairn, and you don't need more protection than that, but let me be by your side, watching your back. Just in case. I want to help however I can because that's…—that's what Xaden would want me to do."

Hurt flashed inside her very being at the sound of his name, at the reminder of what she had lost all those weeks ago during the attack when he had tried to protect her with everything that he was, paying the ultimate price for her safety. It was her fault. YN knew that, and everyone around her knew it, too.

Swallowing against the all-consuming pain threatening to push the tears back into her eyes, YN slowly nodded, stepping closer and letting him pull her into a tight hug. "Thank you," was all she whispered into the leather protecting his chest, feeling a kiss pressed to the crown of her head. "We will find a way."

He couldn't possibly know that, and still, it warmed her heart that she wasn't the only one clinging to hope.

The sun had almost risen to its zenith when they finally arrived at the battlefield, already littered with bodies—both human and venin—and without having to tell Garrick her plan, he followed close when Tairn dove into a fall to rip a wyvern off of a green dragon and its rider. Chradh was close behind in order to grip onto the wyvern's wing, holding it in place with Tairn, and Garrick shielded his eyes as soon as he saw YN raising both her hands, calling for her signet. The energy gathering above her charged the air around them, and when she felt the now familiar sensation of it tickling her skin, she let the lightning loose, aiming at the venin screaming on their dragon and eradicating them in a silver flash, burned to the bones. The wyvern's distressed sounds quieted when its rider died, and both dragons let it fall toward the ground, roaring triumphantly.

YN's breath had grown shallow at the power cursing through her, feeling it eating on her energy and strength, but she couldn't stop. Not until she had found Xaden among their enemies.

"We need to find him!" She shouted over the fighting noise around them, echoing off the mountains surrounding the valley. Garrick all but nodded and let his dragon fly to the side of the valley, flying wide circles over the terrain. YN did just that as well, letting Tairn choose his own part of the area, knowing he would look out for any enemies to destroy them with her while also searching for his mate's rider.

After almost an hour, the woman pressed herself flat on her dragon, trying to catch her breath. "I don't know how long I can do this," she let the black shadow carrying her know even though he had already sensed it. "I know, Stormy One. You did well." His deep, rumbling voice was comforting in her mind, warm even at the praise. "We should not encounter much more, I promise. They are fleeing like rats," he informed her after another bend around the valley, the mountainside towering right next to them, and indeed, the commotion of the fighting grew fainter with each passing moment.

At least until Tairn roared in warning and leaped into a free fall, making YN scream in surprise before she gathered her wits again and pressed herself even tighter against the black scales underneath her, holding on tight onto the pommel of hardened dragon skin, tears straining her eyes despite the flying goggles protecting them. "Chradh," was all her dragon pushed into her mind for an explanation, and immediately, worry filled her. "Garrick," she whispered into the strong winds trying to push her off of her dragon, but her body was trained into perfecting flying, holding her right where she belonged as Tairn roared anew and spat out a wall of fire, separating Garrick and his dragon as he fought off a venin and their wyvern.

With a fighting scream herself, YN let the lightning gather its strength above them before it rained down on their enemies, the impact throwing the brunet several feet away, but the venin crumbled into dust, and the wyvern died in the dirt next to them. Without waiting for Tairn to land fully, she climbed off her seat and slid off his back, the jump straining her knees when she hit the ground and almost tumbled face-first into the grass but gathered her balance in the last moment. "Garrick!" YN shouted for him as she started to run, crossing the distance through the cloud of sand, dirt, and smoke, coughing when she finally passed it with a hand covering her nose and mouth.

The glint of a sword in the sunlight was the first and only warning she would get, her body and mind moving on instinct alone—her own sword drawing as she leaped into the space between a passed-out Garrick and his attacker, and the horrible sound of clashing sharpened steel traveled across the valley when they stood head to head. It took a moment too long for YN to realize the recognition coursing through her when her eyes wandered across the opposing steel, taking in the intricate runes hammered into the surface.

She knew those runes. She had seen them numerous times when she had watched him cleaning and polishing his sword in the courtyard of Basgiath or their bedroom in Aretia. She had memorized them every time she had watched him train with one of their squad mates. She had kissed each and every one for strength and protection before he had been sent off into battle.

Her gaze jumped, traveling in dragon speed up the familiar body while her heart stopped for several long beats; the organ clenching painfully in her chest when she reached his handsome face, now lined with red veins, his once onyx eyes now tinted an angry shade of red.

She had done that to him.

Only because of her very existence did Xaden take too much and turn into their worst nightmare.

It's all my fault.

The sentence echoed through her mind, bouncing off the walls in every direction possible, making the pain and the loss almost unbearable.

Their swords still met between their bodies, pushing against one another in a silent fight, both staring into each other's eyes, unmoving. "Xaden," slipped past her lips in a desperate plea, trying to make him realize who she was, what she once had been to him not that long ago. The red in his eyes grew in its intensity at the sound of her voice, and he bared his teeth to her, growling, but he didn't use his entire strength to push her blade into moving toward her very own throat. "Xaden, please. You know who I am—I know somewhere in there is a part of you that knows me, just how I know you." It was merely a hope in the form of a silly blade of grass she clung onto now because she couldn't possibly know what still lived inside him and what had died that day. Sgaeyl wouldn't tell her if Xaden still communicated with her because this would ultimately mean that some part of him had survived.

Tears spilled over her cheeks, and her hands around the hilt of her sword started to shake at the strain in her muscles, forcing a sob out of her. "I have to believe that something remains in you, Xaden. Something I can fight for. You did this for me; you fought to keep me safe and alive, and now it's my turn to do the same. Do you understand me?" He leaned in closer for a heartbeat or two, taking her in, but not a single word left his lips. "I would never abandon our promise," YN whispered, and with one final push, she threw her sword away, somewhere to her right, way out of reach. Tairn tried to invade her mind, but all she could do was block him out.

She couldn't do this.

Her hope shriveled into a meager little sapling, prepared to turn brown and die.

Pulling off the ring Xaden had gifted her six months ago during a starry night filled with laughter and love, she held it up between them, the light blue aquamarine—his birthstone—catching the sunlight. "You gave this to me as a promise of a future together when all this is over. I promised you the same in return—a life filled with joy and happiness because that's what you deserve." He paused at that; only for a moment, but it was there, she knew it. "I won't fight you because I keep my promises. I always have."

Slowly, YN raised her other hand, pulling the bow and quiver off her back and letting it tumble to her feet; her daggers, strapped across both ribs and thighs, followed close. He watched her with an almost unnerving intensity and made her skin crawl, but it was still Xaden—somewhere deep down, it had to be him. Vulnerable as she was, she didn't expect him to raise his sword again, not when he had been almost calm, and she knew she would die—just like her hope and her baby. Their little one.

Another tear slid down her face when YN kept staring into his eyes, not letting him out of sight. He seemed to struggle against his own mind, his muscles flexing and trying to fight off whatever it was. The sword came closer and closer, the sharp blade almost nudging the skin at her neck when his movements stopped anew, his breathing hard and fast, and a droplet of sweat rolling down his temple.

"I won't fight you, Xaden," YN whispered again, never breaking their gazes, never moving an inch away from the death sentence that was his blade. "I have loved you for so long, and I will love you even after my death." Nothing in this world or beyond could take that away from her, not even Xaden himself.

One of her hands wrapped itself around the deathly steel, and YN didn't even flinch when she cut herself; the pain immediate and burning, the blood trailing down it, catching at the runes on its way to follow gravity. His eyes widened a fraction, now watching her blood, her injured hand, his chest heaving. She gripped the sword tighter, the red of her life essence spilling between her fingers, marking the moment when the sword he had sworn would always protect her, hurt her. "Look at me, Xaden." It was both a demand and a plea, and Xaden looked back at her, something like shadows curling in his red irises. "I know you're still in there, Xaden Riorson. Somewhere a part of you has survived, a part that did not succumb to the power, that could not hold on to it."

Gritting her teeth, YN pulled at the sword, feeling the steel digging deeper into her flesh, more blood seeping out of the wound, drenching her arm, and she only stopped when she felt it right against her neck, resting on the vulnerable vein pulsing right underneath her skin. She knew she couldn't cling long enough to this life to be saved when the man she loved decided to nick the skin, and she would pay the ultimate price in her pursuit of saving him.

She watched as Xaden's swirling eyes jumped to the point where they were joined, watching the blood trickle down, watching her hurt herself for him. His still handsome face contorted in confusion, in agony, in despair; the emotions so clear and almost palpable, YN could reach out and feel the pain radiating off his body.

"I know you can let go of it, Xaden. You are so strong, so incredibly brave. You overcame things no human being should even have to overcome. You are the best of all of us, you carry the burden and still live for a codex only the worthiest of men can live up to."

He was so close now that she could feel his warmth through her flight leathers, feel that ratchet power cursing through him.

"You never wanted this, you never strive for the absolute power, Xaden. This is my fault, and I would happily accept this burden if it means freeing you from it." A quiet sob forced its way out over her lips, and Xaden bent infinitesimally closer, the shadows claiming more of his eyes, fighting against the venin-red in a bitter fight for dominance. YN wanted to kneel in front of him, to beg every deity, every power in this world for guidance, for help, but instead, she continued to stare up at him, continued to bleed for him.

Perhaps she would pay the ultimate price for being too hopeful.

Shakily inhaling, her other hand softly, gently touched his wrist, feeling the warm skin, the electricity still dancing between them whenever they touched. "I need you," was all she could whisper when she had coaxed his hand from the corded hilt of his sword, his arm easy to maneuver in her hold as if his mind had to fight its battle without forcing him to withstand and fight everything he faced in reality. "We need you, Xaden."

There wouldn't be a kick for a long while, but the swell of her belly was unmistakably palpable for a hand as big as Xaden's, for fingers so long they almost entirely covered her front. Without moving or even breathing, her eyes watched him gazing down at their point of contact, skin touching skin, and his eyes flashed red, but his hand didn't move from her stomach, from where they had created something magical without knowing it.

"Please… Let go of it, my love. If not for me then for them. They deserve to know their incredible father. They deserve to grow up in a household filled with love, laughter, and strength. They deserve to know you."

Xaden's fingers that were pressed into the leather covering her body slightly flexed at those words, the red still warring against the shadows trying to reclaim their master, the veins pulsing angrily at the sheer force of power trying to eat him alive. His sword shook in her hand, and when he let go of the hilt, YN quickly abandoned her own hold on it, cupping his face in her hands, her warm blood covering his cheek. A deep growling groan escaped him as she pulled him down towards her, holding him right there, their foreheads pressed to one another.

"You are in control of yourself, Xaden—you always have been. Don't stop now when we need you the most." Whispering against his lips, YN kissed him despite everything, his hands flexing around her wrists and his lips moving in muted words, tears streaming down his face.

"Let go."

It was her last and final plea—perhaps both Zihnal and Dunne had mercy on them. Maybe it was sheer will. Despite not knowing what had changed, YN didn't question it when the mountain of a man fell to his knees and looked up at the sky, crying tears of blood and salt, an anguished battle cry escaping him. The force of power exploding around him pushed her backward, and instinctively, YN wrapped her arms protectively around her middle when she hit the hard, unyielding ground and rolled over stones and weapons before lying completely still.

Blinking against the ache and pain inside her body, she waited for something—anything.

And then—movements. Crunching stone under moving limbs and a deep sob traveling across the short distance.

“No. No, no, no, no! YN!”

She couldn't move, not daring to do so, when his oh-so-familiar voice entered her ears, and his warm body settled behind her, his warm hands grabbing her shoulders to gently roll her over. Coughing against the settling dust and squinting against the bright sky, YN looked up into his hovering face, one of his hands now cradling her neck and pulling her into his lap, sheltering her with his broad body.

"Xaden…?"

Another sob escaped him, tears of blood still streaming down his face where vein after vein slowly retreated, and the red in his irises being swallowed whole by the familiar onyx black specked with flecks of gold and amber. She still couldn't grasp it, not until his hand raised hers to his lips, kissing one blood-stained knuckle after the other.

"It's really you," YN whispered and smiled tiredly, her own tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. His nod was all but a confirmation; her hope starting to blossom into something more sturdy and permanent. "Whatever you did, it pushed the part of my soul still left behind to fight harder than before." His voice was hoarse from the lack of use, but he kept her close to his chest, ignoring the shakiness in his arms. "Thank you." It was barely a mumble, but she still heard it despite the sounds from behind them.

"Don't you dare drag me again like some kind of massive bone! YN! Hey, woah. No, no, no! Stop killing your wife!" Xaden rose with her in his arms and turned to a reawakened Garrick, staring dumbfounded at his best friend. "Don't be mad at him," YN all but whispered softly, trying herself on a smile for their friend as he shortened the distance between them and took them both in, eyes widening and mouth almost agape. "I'm not." And still, she could clearly hear the hurt in his rough voice, which would take time to disappear. She would be there, though. For everything that might come in the aftermath, whatever he needed to overcome to close this chapter.

Tairn growled when his massive body landed, and his burning eyes settled on them. "I will not allow you to commit such miscalculated stupidity again, girl. I will not tolerate it! And do not dear block me out ever again!" Too exhausted to argue with the angry black dragon, YN all but nodded and allowed Xaden and him to carry her onto her seat, wanting to escape this place as soon as possible.

She needed to bring Xaden home and far away from here—so that's what they did.

The sensation of soft sheets was the first thing he picked up on when sleep finally evaded him, and he woke with a groan. Even softer hands, one wrapped in something aching to a bandage, immediately took one of his hands between hers, and the mattress dipped slightly when her weight settled onto its edge. He knew without looking that it was YN right at his side, just where she had been when he first arrived back at Riorson House, half delusional from the exhaustion.

Home.

When he opened his eyes, Xaden groaned yet again at the brightness filtering through the windows, the curtains barely containing the light from a properly beautiful day outside these walls, and blinking, his eyes searched for her face. He found her immediately, the worry-etched lines between her soft brows deepening, but still, she tried to cover it up with her smile illuminating his entire world.

His heart ached when he thought about what she had been through—what they had been through—he barely could look into her eyes even though he knew there was not a single trace of accusation to be found. Yet, he felt guilt eating at him for putting her into this situation, the danger. Xaden once had vowed to protect her with all that he was, and all he had—and that vow had been turned to dust.

"Hi." Her soft whisper, still edged by insecurity and disbelief, pulled the Riorson back, made his mind shut up in an instant as it pinpoint-focused on her. "Hi," was his quiet return, and both squeezed their hands simultaneously, pulling strength out of the small touch. "How are you feeling? Are you thirsty?" Already trying to pull away to fill the glass waiting on his bedside table, Xaden stopped her with another squeeze of her fingers, making her look back at him. "I'm all right," he promised because, despite the exhaustion still rattling his body and his muscles feeling weak unlike ever before, he was all right. More so than that.

He finally felt like himself again. And she was the sole reason that he still was here.

Gently coaxing her bandaged hand closer to him, the man pressed a gentle kiss to the covered palm. His memories from that day were foggy at best, but he vividly remembered seeing her blood spill—it was the moment when he dared to fight harder than he had ever done so in his life to get back to her.

"I'm so sorry."

His voice grew raspy and even deeper, the distress clinging to his words. He did all that to her. To them.

"Don't you dare apologize for something you would never choose willingly, for something you couldn't control, Xaden Riorson. I won't allow it." Her words came immediately, and he sucked in a deep breath, feeling her hand gently cradling his face, the pad of her thumb caressing his cheek. He felt his eyes as they grew glassy, and blinking against it, Xaden pulled her hand off his face to press it against his steadily beating heart while his eyes traveled down her body until his gaze rested heavily on the barely there curve of her stomach.

"How are you?"

A soft laugh escaped YN at his question, making his lips twitch in growing joy. "We're okay. More than that now that you're with us." Lacing their fingers, YN let his hand cover the tiny bump hidden behind her flowy tunic, sighing deeply when Xaden's fingers flexed above it. "I think I heard Brennan shouting in the hallway last night," the Riorson mused, watching her roll her pretty eyes. "He spilled the secret, and now everyone knows of my… condition. That's what he did."

They both knew the Sorrengail only acted from a place of worry and love; YN didn't have to spell it out for him.

"I'm glad there was someone who took care of you and the little one when I couldn't," Xander murmured, making her look at him. "But I am here now. I will renew my vow to always protect you and our child, mo chroi. You two are my home, my everything." His voice broke at the last word, and she was there immediately, claiming her place at his side, allowing him to wrap her in his arms, pulling her incredibly close. Xaden felt her soft, warm lips press gentle kisses along his neck and jaw, like the touches of butterfly wings when they strove too close and her fingers buried into the short hair at the nape of his neck. "You are our everything, too, Xaden," YN whispered back, gently coaxing him to look at her where she was pressed to his body, her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. "Whatever comes, we will be a family. We will be one. I will protect you with everything that I have and everything that I am—you and our child."

Those words still amazed the Riorson, his mind still reeling every time he dared to think or speak them, not yet entirely at ease with the thought of their existence in this world filled with war, battles, and enemies. But he would protect them—he would protect them with his life.

Nothing would come between him and his family.

Never again.

Thank you so much for reading! Please consider leaving a like, a reblog, and a comment—it would mean the world to me <3

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whencyclopedia · 4 months ago

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Eyewitness Accounts of the Holocaust

The Holocaust was the murder of 6 million Jewish people by the SS, Gestapo, and other organisations of Nazi Germany and its allies in the years prior to and through the Second World War (1939-45). Innocent men, women, and children were shot in mass executions, or, if not too young or too old, they were sent to labour camps where they worked until they could do so no longer. The ultimate fate of millions was to die in the gas chambers of extermination camps like Auschwitz in occupied Poland.

In this article, accounts are presented by those who witnessed the Holocaust genocide firsthand, both its victims and those involved in its execution who were obliged to give evidence in, for example, the post-war Nuremberg trials of 1945-6.

Unburied Corpses, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp

Wislon-Oakes - Imperial War Museums (CC BY-NC-SA)

The Nazis & the Jews

Adolf Hitler (1889-1945) established himself as the dictator of Nazi Germany in 1933, and he identified Jewish people as the main enemy of the state. Based on dubious and inconsistent racial theory as propounded by such Nazi figures as Alfred Rosenberg (1893-1946), Hitler and the Nazi Party began a propaganda campaign against German Jews, which presented them as an inferior race who were holding Germany back from achieving its full economic potential.

Hitler wanted to remove all Jews from German territory, but the first step was to identify who exactly was a Jew. The 1935 Nuremberg Laws loosely identified Jews since even having a single Jewish grandparent placed an individual in that category. A series of 'solutions' to what Hitler called the "Jewish problem" were rolled out, such as encouraging emigration and persecuting Jewish business owners. Jews were then attacked in such pogroms as the Kristallnacht of November 1938. Next, Jews were rounded up and obliged to live in segregated areas such as ghettos in cities or in concentration camps. Jews were deprived of citizenship and other basic rights.

From 1942, the Nazis began what was secretly described as the 'Final Solution', that is the plan to murder all European Jews. Jews were transported to labour camps where they worked on state projects until they died from disease, extreme malnutrition, or physical exhaustion. Other Jews, and those who could no longer work or were too young or too old to work, were transported directly to death camps like the Auschwitz-Birkenau complex in occupied Poland where they were killed in gas chambers and their remains were communally cremated. Jews were not the only victims since the Nazis also targeted Romani people, Communists, Jehovah's Witnesses, Freemasons, homosexuals, political rivals, prisoners of war, and those with physical or mental disabilities, amongst others. In addition, hundreds of thousands more victims were murdered in mass executions in occupied territories during the Second World War by mobile killing squads known as Einsatzgruppen. The Jews made up by far the majority of those killed, and it is estimated that 6 million died in what is today called the Holocaust. The sheer scale of the Nazis' programme means that determining the precise number of victims is not possible.

Arrested Jews, Baden-Baden

Bundesarchiv, Bild 183-86686-0008 (CC BY-SA)

Hugh Greene, a British newspaper journalist, recalls what he saw of the Kristallnacht in 1938:

I was in Berlin at that time and saw some pretty revolting sights – the destruction of Jewish shops, Jews being arrested and led away, the police standing by while the gangs destroyed the shops and even groups of well-dressed women cheering.

(Holmes, 42)

Avraham Aviel, a Polish Jew and survivor of a mass execution, gives the following account of his experience in May 1942:

We were all brought close to the cemetery at a distance of eighty to a hundred metres from a long, deep pit. Once again everybody was made to kneel. There was no possibility of lifting one's head. I sat more or less in the centre of the town people. I looked in front of me and saw the long pit then maybe groups of twenty, thirty people led to the edge of the pit, undressed probably so that they should not take their valuables with them. They were brought to the edge of the pit where they were shot and fell into the pit, one on top of another.

(Holmes, 319)

An anonymous survivor from a ghetto massacre in Lviv, Ukraine, in August 1942 gives the following description of its aftermath:

I went with my mother to the office of the Jewish community regarding an apartment and there in the light breeze, dangled the corpses of the hanged, their faces blue, their heads tilted backward, their tongues blackened and stretched out. Luxury cars raced in from the center of the city, German civilians with their wives and children came to see the sensational spectacle, and, as was their custom, the visitors enthusiastically photographed the scene. Afterwards the Ukrainians and Poles arrived by with greater modesty.

(Fiedländer, 436)

Nazi Classification of Jewish People

VolksVeritas (CC BY-SA)

Rivka Yoselevska, a Polish Jew, describes her experience and that of her family in the Hansovic ghetto massacre in August 1943:

Some of the younger ones I got out naked covered with blood…I was still alive. Where should I go? What should I do?

(Holmes, 320-1)

The SS lieutenant-colonel Adolf Eichmann (1906-1962), in charge of the Final Solution's transportation requirements, here lies to Jews to make sure they do not create trouble as they are transported by train from a ghetto to the concentration camps:

Jews: You have nothing to worry about. We want only the best for you. You'll leave here shortly and be sent to very fine places indeed. You will work there, your wives will stay at home, and your children will go to school. You will have wonderful lives.

(Bascomb, 6)

The death camps were deliberately located in remote Poland to provide the Final Solution project more secrecy. Rudolf Höss (1901-1947), a camp commandant at Auschwitz, stated:

We were required to carry out these exterminations in secrecy, but of course the foul and nauseating stench from the continuous burning of bodies permeated the entire area and all of the people living in the surrounding communities knew that exterminations were going on at Auschwitz.

(Neville, 49)

New Arrivals at Auschwitz

Bernard Walter (Public Domain)

The typical conditions of the train journeys to the camps are described here by Avraham Kochav, an Auschwitz survivor:

There were twenty to twenty-five cars in every train…I heard terrible cries. I saw how people attack other people so as to have a place to stand, how people push each other so that they could stand somewhere or so that they could have air for breathing. It was terribly, terribly stifling. The first to faint were the children, women, old men, they all fell down like flies.

(Holmes, 332)

Zygmunt Klukowski, a Polish hospital director, describes the train journeys for Jewish people sent to the Belzec extermination camp in occupied Poland:

On the way to Belzec the Jews experience many terrible things. They are aware of what will happen to them. Some try to fight back. At the railroad station in Szczebrzeszyn a young woman gave away a gold ring in exchange for a glass of water for her dying child. In Lublin people witnessed small children being thrown through windows of speeding trains. Many people are shot before reaching Belzec.

(Friedländer, 358)

Yaacov Silberstein, a Jewish teenager, describes his arrival at Auschwitz in October 1942:

When we arrived we saw how the Jews were running to the electrified fence. There they stuck. They were tired of life; they could not continue in this fashion.

(Holmes, 330)

Dr Lucie Adelsberger, a prisoner of Auschwitz, describes the processing of new arrivals destined for the labour camps:

We undressed, had our hair cut – no actually our heads were shaved to stubble; then came the showers and finally the tattoos. This was where they confiscated the very last vestiges of our belongings; nothing remained…no written document that could have identified us, no picture, no written message from a loved one. Our past was cut off, erased…

(Cesarini, 656)

Aerial View of Auschwitz

South African Air Force (Public Domain)

Bernd Naumann, a survivor from the Birkenau camp, describes the prevalence of rats in the camp:

They gnawed not only at corpses but also at the seriously sick. I have pictures showing women near death being bitten by rats.

(Neville, 50)

Seweryna Smaglewska, a prisoner in the Birkenau women's camp, describes the living conditions there:

There were no roads, no paths between the blocks. In the depths of these dark dens, in bunks like multi-storied cages, the feeble light of a candle burning here or there flickered over naked, emaciated figures curled up, blue from the cold, bent over a pile of filthy rags, holding their shaved heads in their hands, picking out an insect with their scraggly fingers and smashing it on the edge of the bunk – that is what the barracks looked like in 1942.

(Cesarini, 528)

The SS, which managed the camps, made sure there was a hierarchy amongst the prisoners such as trustees who survived a little longer than the rest by being 'favoured' with certain duties such as burning the bodies in the crematoriums or beating other prisoners. SS Lance Corporal Richard Bock, a guard at Auschwitz-Birkenau, recalls:

A block chief would call out the kapo very fiercely, 'Kapo, come here.' The kapo came over and – boom – he hit the kapo in the face so hard that he fell over…And then he said, 'Kapo, can't you beat them any better than that?' And the kapo ran off and grabbed a club to beat up the prisoner squad quite indiscriminately. 'Kapo, come over here,' he shouted again. The kapo came and he said, 'Finish them off,' and then he went off again and he finished the prisoners off, he beat them to death…a kapo had to beat and club to save his own life.

(Holmes, 325)

Luggage of Auschwitz Victims

Jorge Láscar (CC BY)

Those meant for the gas chambers were often unaware of their fate. Bock describes the procedure that he witnessed with a colleague called Holbinger who was responsible for the Zyklon B tins that would produce the lethal gas:

…the new arrivals had to get undressed, and then the order came, 'Prepare for disinfection'. There were enormous piles of clothing…Lots of them hid their children under the clothes and covered them up and then they shouted, 'Get ready' and they all went out, they had to run naked approximately twenty yards from the hall across to Bunker One. There were two doors standing open and they went in there and when a certain number had gone inside they shut the doors. That happened about three times, and every time Holbinger had to go out to his ambulance and they took out a sort of tin – he and one of his block chiefs – and then he climbed up the ladder and at the top there was a round hole and he opened the little round door and held the tin there and shook it and then he shut the little door again. Then a fearful screaming started up and approximately after about ten minutes it slowly went quiet…They opened the door…then a blue haze came out. I looked in and I saw a pyramid. They had all climbed up on top of each other…They were all tangled, they had to tug and pull very hard to disentangle all these people.

(Holmes, 334-5)

Dov Paisikowic, a Russian-Jewish survivor of Auschwitz, was part of the team responsible for taking bodies out of the chambers, removing valuables such as rings and gold teeth, and then taking the corpses to the crematoria. He recalls:

…the doors were suddenly opened to the gas chambers. People, naked people, started falling out. We were all frightened, no one dared ask what it all was. We were immediately taken to the other side of this house and there we saw hell on this earth – large piles of dead people, and people dragging these dead to a long pit, about thirty metres in length and ten metres in width. There was a huge fire there, with tree trunks. On the other side fat was being taken out of this pit with a bucket.

(Holmes, 335)

Thousands of detainees in the camps were subjected to unnecessary and often horrific medical operations and experiments. One of the most infamous SS doctors was Josef Mengele (1911-1979), who performed all kinds of macabre operations at Auschwitz. Mengele was, though, only one part of a large SS medical team, which operated in many different camps. Dr Franz Blaha, a Czech detainee at the Dachau concentration camp, was obliged to work in this area of Nazi terror, specifically performing autopsies. Blaha reported:

From the middle of 1941 to the end of 1942 some 500 operations on healthy prisoners were performed. These were for the instructions of the SS medical students and doctors and included operations on the stomach, gall bladder and throat. These were performed by students and doctors of only two years' training, although they were very dangerous and difficult….Many prisoners died on the operating table and many others from later complications…These persons were never volunteers but were forced to submit to such acts.

(MacDonald, 59)

Auschwitz Bunks

Bookofblue (CC BY-SA)

Hertha Beese, a Berlin housewife and underground resistance worker, recalls that, unlike the general public, the resistance network was more informed about the camps. She states:

We knew that the concentration camps existed. We also knew where they existed, for example Oranienburg just outside Berlin. We sometimes knew which of our friends were there and we also knew of the cruelties in them right from the beginning.

(Holmes, 315)

Anthony Eden (1897-1977), British Foreign Secretary during WWII, notes:

…as the war progressed some horrifying reports began to come out. At first it was very difficult to assess their accuracy and they were so horrible it was hard to believe they could be true.

(Holmes, 314)

Wynford Vaughn-Thomas, a British journalist, recalls the conditions of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp in Germany when it was liberated in 1945:

In the huts typhoid, everything, had broken out and you couldn't hear yourself speak for the death rattle. There were people lying on top of each other, sick, vomiting, withered bodies crawling on their hands and knees…It was sealed off in this dark north German plain and you felt you'd reached the cesspit of the human mind.

(Holmes, 337)

Mass Grave, Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp

H. Oakes-Imperial War Museums (Public Domain)

The British Lieutenant Colonel J. A. D. Johnson described what he saw when he arrived at Bergen-Belsen:

The prisoners were a dense mass of emaciated apathetic scarecrows huddled together in wooden huts, and in many cases without beds or blankets, and in some cases without any clothing whatsoever…There were thousands of emaciated corpses in various stages of decomposition lying unburied. Sanitation was to all intents and purposes nonexistent.

(Cesarini, 759)

Hans Stark, Gestapo staff member at Auschwitz, stated, like so many others, that he had merely been following orders:

I took part in the murder of many people…I believed in the Führer, I wanted to serve my people. Today I know that this idea was false. I regret the mistakes of my past, but I cannot undo them.

(Neville, 57)

Rabbi Frankforter, who died in the Holocaust, which Jewish people often call the Shoah or Ha-Shoah in Hebrew, gave this last wish to survivor Yaacov Silberstein:

You are still young and you will remain alive. I have only one request for you that you should never let people forget. Tell everyone what they did to us at this small camp, in Buchenwald. Wherever you go tell this, also to your children so that they should pass it on. To remember and not to forget.

(Holmes, 339)

#History #ConcentrationCamp #FinalSolution #Genocide

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cielettosa · 1 year ago

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LEVI ACKERMAN: WHY HE IS HUMANITY'S STRONGEST SOLDIER

This post contains:

An in depth analysis on Levi's motivations and what underscores them

His view on his strength

Why Levi is so reserved

Why Levi was obsessed with killing zeke

Levi presents a nuanced exploration of the gap between initial impressions and underlying motivations.

While his initial demeanor appears stoic and potentially aloof, bordering on arrogance, a closer look can reveal a profound sense of responsibility and dedication driving his actions.

Levi's act of comforting a dying comrade while vowing to eradicate the Titan threat signifies a deeply ingrained sense of purpose.

This act transcends mere pragmatism, demonstrating an emotional connection to the fallen and a commitment to the collective cause of the Survey Corps.

His vow is a promise to honor the sacrifices made by countless individuals, carrying their collective resolve forward in the fight for a Titan-free world.

He is burdened by the weight of loss yet driven by an unwavering commitment to the ideals and the fallen comrades of the Survey Corps. He embodies the collective hope of humanity, particularly those who dedicate their lives to the eradication of the Titan threat, ensuring that the sacrifices made will not be in vain.

His physical prowess is a defining aspect of his character and role within the narrative.

His strength serves as a pillar of support for those around him. His ability to consistently survive and excel in battle, as evidenced by his reassurance to the dying comrade, instills a sense of hope and security in his comrades. He becomes a symbol of unwavering resilience amidst the constant threat of annihilation.

However, Levi's perception of his strength extends beyond its immediate utility. He views it as a burden, a responsibility inextricably linked to his title as "Humanity's Strongest Soldier."

He recognizes that his superior abilities often come at the cost of countless lives lost around him, leaving him as the sole survivor in dire situations. This realization fosters a profound sense of duty within him.

Levi's strength compels him to carry the memory and legacy of the fallen. He acknowledges that his survival necessitates fulfilling their unfulfilled aspirations and carrying forward the collective resolve of the Survey Corps.

This is exemplified in his willingness to take responsibility for Eren, even to the point of eliminating him if necessary, and in Erwin's unwavering trust in Levi to handle crucial tasks, such as subduing Beast Titan.

While Levi's immense strength grants him immense power, it is not a source of pride or personal gain.

As Kenny said, Levi is a slave to being a "hero".

He feels an immense responsibility to utilize his power for the greater good, becoming a protector and champion for humanity in their desperate struggle against the Titan threat. This unwavering commitment manifests in various ways, from advocating for the desperate measures of feeding civilians to his relentless dedication in the fight against Titans.

Levi's reserved demeanor is a consequence of a life marked by constant anticipation of tragedy and the loss of countless comrades.

His atypical upbringing, from the harsh realities of the underground to the brutal world of the Survey Corps, has instilled a deep-seated expectation of further losses.

This environment makes emotional expression difficult, leading him to adopt a detached exterior as a coping mechanism.

However, Levi's emotional self-preservation doesn't diminish the profound care he harbors for human life. He fights relentlessly for the sake of strangers, suffers immense anguish with each squad he loses, and his empathy for suffering stems from his own deprived childhood, where basic necessities like sunlight and food were scarce.

Throughout the manga, Levi endures a relentless cycle of loss, constantly grappling with the responsibility of being the "last man standing."

He carries the weight of their sacrifices, driven by the unwavering determination to fulfill their shared dream and ensure their deaths were not in vain. This ever-growing burden continues to shape his reserved nature and fuels his unwavering dedication to the fight for humanity's survival.

Levi's unwavering dedication extends beyond his own burdens. He readily takes on the emotional weight of others, particularly evident in his interaction with Erwin.

When Erwin confesses his guilt and internal turmoil regarding the lives sacrificed in the charge, Levi deliberately chooses to shoulder that burden himself.

This act transcends mere support; it is a conscious decision to relieve Erwin of the immense pressure associated with the lives lost.

Levi explicitly states, "I am making the choice," signifying his deliberate assumption of the responsibility.

This choice carries immense consequences. Levi takes on the horror of the charge and the weight of all the lives lost – the recruits who perished and ultimately, Erwin himself.

This decision contributes significantly to the profound weight that burdens him throughout the manga.

It manifests in his overwhelming sense of failure when he ultimately cannot eliminate Beast Titan, and his heartfelt apology to the charging recruits further underscores the gravity of the responsibility he carries.

As the manga progresses, the weight on Levi's shoulders intensifies. Eren, the boy he once vowed to protect and take responsibility for, ultimately betrays humanity, leaving Levi questioning the "awful joke" of the sacrifices made throughout their journey.

The lives he feels deeply responsible for, even going so far as stating to Zeke that he views them as "killed" by their actions, become a constant source of internal conflict and fuel his unwavering determination to continue the fight for humanity's survival.

As Levi enters the final battle, the physical and emotional toll he bears surpasses anything he has faced before.

He loses the last remaining comrade from his friend group (Hange), faces the seemingly impossible task of fighting his former subordinate, and suffers critical injuries, losing an eye and fingers just days prior.

Despite his weakened state, his sense of responsibility intensifies. He refuses to rest even when Armin urges him to, driven by an internal pressure that compels him to fight.

No external force compels him to engage in this final battle; it is solely driven by his overwhelming sense of responsibility.

His determination to protect his remaining comrades manifests in his actions – offering himself as bait for Mikasa, saving Jean, and enduring further injury while saving Connie.

Even while coughing up blood, he maintains a facade of strength, burdened by the weight of being humanity's strongest.

Finally, after temporarily being sidelined due to his injuries sustained while saving Connie, the immense pressure he has been carrying throughout the narrative culminates in a moment of vulnerability.

Levi is forced to confront the "awful joke" of their situation once again. Now physically broken, Levi contemplates his inability to contribute further, succumbing to self recrimination in the face of immense loss, horror, and guilt.

He questions the purpose of their struggle, wondering if it was all in vain.

However, amidst this profound despair, Levi exhibits a remarkable resilience. He reaffirms the idealistic dream that the Survey Corps fought for, recognizing the inherent value of the lives lost and refusing to succumb to regret.

He chooses to look forward, believing in a better future and the potential of the next generation of idealists. Even in the darkest moment, physically unable to walk and coughing up blood, Levi remains the voice of reason, urging Mikasa to pull it together as they are the "only ones left who can kill Eren."

This unwavering commitment to his duty proves the fact that Levi never stopped fighting, even when his own body betrayed him.

Despite being presumed out of the fight, Levi's unwavering spirit compels him to push through his debilitating injuries and excruciating pain.

This final act of defiance proves crucial in both halting the Rumbling and saving countless lives, fulfilling the promises he made to his fallen comrades and granting meaning to their ultimate sacrifice.

In the aftermath, a profound shift occurs within Levi. He acknowledges the immense contributions of his comrades, recognizing that their unwavering dedication fueled his own actions.

The immense pressure and the burden of countless lives he carried finally lifts, allowing him to release the pain he had bottled up for so long.

For the first time, after enduring countless tragedies, we witness Levi shed tears, signifying a release of the emotional weight that had burdened him throughout his arduous journey.

Levi's title as "Humanity's Strongest Soldier" extends far beyond his physical prowess.

It is his unwavering mental fortitude, forged from constant struggle, that truly defines him. He chooses not to succumb to bitterness or resentment, even after facing a lifetime of hardship and loss. Instead, he exhibits an extraordinary resilience, fueled by an unwavering determination to protect humanity.

Many characters within the narrative succumb to the cycle of violence and hatred. They wield their power to inflict pain and dominate others, fueled by the trauma they have endured. Others, like Ymir, become paralyzed by their past, unable to utilize their abilities to help others. Still others, like Zeke, lose hope in the possibility of a better future.

Levi's journey stands as a powerful counterpoint to these destructive tendencies. He demonstrates that even individuals who have suffered immensely, who have every reason to be disillusioned and apathetic, can choose to believe and fight for the betterment of others. He views his exceptional strength not as a privilege but as a profound responsibility, a tool to be wielded for the benefit of humanity and the preservation of individual lives.

Even as the world around him crumbles, Levi continues to exhibit compassion and a desire to contribute positively. He chooses to break the cycle of hate and despair, actively seeking to put more good into a world that inflicted immense pain upon him. This unwavering commitment to hope and the value of human life stands as a testament to the enduring strength of the human spirit, even in the face of unimaginable adversity.

Other analyses by me:

Levi and Kenny

How Levi utilizes his intellect in fighting and decision making and his leadership in final battle

Levi Ackerman (an overall analysis? One of my first one so it's not that good ig)

The Yeagers and the Ackermans I: Their motivations and dynamic

The Yeagers and the Ackermans II: The Similarities and the Contrasts

#anime #levi ackerman #manga #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #animanga #anime and manga #snk levi #levi aot #character analysis #analysis #cielettosa meta #cielettosa

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mellifluouaamor · 1 year ago

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TANJIROU KAMADO ⍣ FEMALE READER

synopsis. tanjirou thinks you're like a flower.

you're just like a wisteria flower, TANJIROU would always think to himself. beautiful and elegant, kind yet resilient - and your beauty was akin to that of a blooming flower. there's an air of tranquility around you whenever you're on the battlefield, the smile you'd wear soothing your frazzled teammates and reassuring them that everything will be okay.

tanjirou never regretted meeting you that day - the day he saved you from being devoured. you were the only survivor of the squad that was sent to the inn infested by a formidable demon, and he clearly remembered witnessing you struggle to live as you fought with a breath style that he had never seen before: the breath of ayatori style. it appeared to branch off from the breath of love style as it heavily involved agility and flexibility, and the blade of your nichirin sword was also identical to the love pillar's. watching you fight was like watching a dancer perform, and he had never been so mesmerised by graceful movements meant to kill.

after his first meeting with you, the two of you grew closer to each other, and slowly but surely, stronger feelings blossomed in your hearts.

when the sun rose from the horizon, marking the break of dawn, tanjirou was prompted to pick up his pace and ended up jogging the rest of the way to the butterfly estate. he had received worrying news of you returning from a mission severely injured just as he completed his, and he wanted to check up on you as soon as possible.

as he approached the familiar gates of the butterfly estate, he spotted a particular flower growing amongst yellow daffodils. its striking purple colour reminded him of you, causing him to stop in his tracks. would you like this? he could bring it as a small gift since he didn't think of bringing anything for you until this moment.

without another second to waste, tanjirou knelt down and plucked the sweet violet.

❀

tanjirou spotted you lying on your side on the veranda. you were fast asleep, eyelids drawn shut and lips slightly parted as soft breaths slipped past them. traversing the garden, he soon came to a stop in front of your resting form before reaching out to brush away the stray strands of hair covering your face.

he hesitated to wake you up because of how peaceful you looked. although he could have just left the violet for you to wake up to, he wanted to give it to you in person, all so he could see your expression light up like the sky at dawn. tanjirou released a long, drawn-out sigh and then lowered himself on his knees, eyes never leaving you. he subconsciously moved his free hand to cup your face, his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek.

as if on cue, you drifted out of your slumber, your eyelashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. a slight frown etched itself onto your countenance when you tried to figure out who was in front of you.

"tanjirou...?" you mumbled, recognising his scarlet hair, "what are you doing here?" stifling a yawn, you carefully propped yourself up on your elbow, kneading one eye with a fist.

"why are you sleeping out here?" he asked, chuckling, "the mornings are still cold."

"i was stargazing last night... i guess i accidentally fell asleep," you replied, scratching your lower cheek sheepishly. you then gave tanjirou your signature smile and added, "welcome back by the way! you must be tired from your mission."

he beamed. "thank you! but i'm probably not as tired as you. you should sleep on a proper bed since you're still healing from your injuries..." his gaze swept over the bandages on your body as his red hues flashed with concern. "how are you feeling?"

"some parts of my body are sore, but i'm generally feeling okay. kochou-san said i should avoid strenuous work for now," you said, shifting your body to sit properly.

suddenly remembering the flower in his grasp, tanjirou presented you with the sweet violet he had intended to give you, making your eyes widen.

"it's for you!" he chirped, "i found a flower that reminded me of you on my way here. i... think it suits you."

your cheeks heated up at his remark. with a shy "thank you", you happily accepted the flower and inhaled its sweet scent. "it smells nice... and it's so pretty."

"just like you," tanjirou blurted out before covering his mouth upon realising what he just said.

instead of getting embarrassed, you surprised him by leaning over to kiss his cheek, eliciting a blush from him.

"you're so cute~" you cooed, giggling.

tanjirou let out a huff. before your brain could register what was happening, you found yourself being carried like a princess in his strong arms. you immediately clung to his shoulders with a squeal, afraid that he might drop you (even though you knew that he wouldn't) as he strode away.

"h-hey! put me down!" you exclaimed, kicking your legs.

feeling a bit bold, tanjirou leaned towards your face and lightly bumped your nose with his, smiling. your breath hitched in your throat; that little gesture was effective in silencing you as he brought you inside the infirmary and tucked you in bed.

truly, you're a flower he wants to protect with his life.

#loveletters—!#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #scenario #female reader

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theconstitutionisgayculture · 3 months ago

Note

If you could fix one film or one film franchise, which would it be?

Star Wars, and it's not even close.

I used to love Star Wars to death. It was my thing ever since I was 5 or 6 and my dad rented the movies for me at Video Forum. I cannot undersell how much this series meant to me. When I was 11 my mom, who worked at IBM, took me to a take your kid to work day/tech exhibition and there was a portable TV being shown off and to show it off they played the trailer for Episode 1 on a loop. I must have watched it dozens of times, both before and after my mom dragged me away. I was so happy that in a few short months I was going to be able to see a Star Wars movie in the theaters! Just like everyone who was older than me did when the original trilogy first came out. When I was 17 I went to a midnight showing of Revenge of the Sith with my dad. Standing in line about to finally see how The Saga was going to be completed surrounded by super enthusiastic Star Wars fans buzzing and having fake lightsaber duels in the lobby was the closest thing to a religious experience by teenage edgelord atheist self would ever have. I can't even count how many times I got in trouble in school for reading Expanded Universe books when I should have been working.

I. Loved. Star Wars.

And in less than 5 years Disney killed that.

They took this thing I loved, killed its soul, and turned it into a zombie. Worse, they used that zombie to promote their pet politics and truly awful social views. Star Wars as it exists now is, in every conceivable way, worse than it was under Lucas and Lucasfilm. And I can't even find enjoyment in fandom spaces that hate Disney Star Wars and love the EU and the original films, because those spaces are filled with constant fighting with Disney fans about the franchise. And so many real SW fans are so...I don't want to use the word traumatized...maybe battered is a better word, by what Disney and its fans have done to Star Wars that they keep demanding lockstep opinions about everything and creating circular firing squads.

Star Wars just isn't fun anymore. And yeah, the old movies are still there, and sure, every once in a while something like Fallen Order/Jedi Survivor comes out that is actually pretty decent, but the stink of what Disney did to the franchise is always there in the background.

So I would save Star Wars. I'd do it for everyone who had to see the thing they love murdered right before their eyes. I'd do it for the kid I used to be, whose lonely tween and teen years would have been so much more bleak and grey if he never had Star Wars. I would savagely tear the Disney canon away just like Disney did with the EU, throw it in the trash, and start over. I'd adapt the literal decades of stories in the EU, as faithfully as possible, and treat what came before with the love and respect it deserves.

And if that's impossible, if there's no way to build Star Wars back into what it was, I'd let it die a dignified death instead of letting a bunch of shitty, talentless hacks parade its corpse around like a trophy of war.

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cad-faoi-maeglin · 1 month ago

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Sometimes I like to think about how Echo's integration into Clone Force 99 went, because while an Arc who served under General Skywalker should surely be able to keep up with the Bad Batch's antics, I can also see some major sticking points, the biggest one being death/mortality.

Clone Force 99 have been together since they were cadets. They trained together, ate, slept and bathed together. All their missions have been together. Their entire lives they've had each other and will assert that they need no one else. They hold themselves apart from the 'regs' and as a result, I'd imagine they tend to know very little of what it's actually like to be part of the general rank and file, to be part of a large batallion. They have a 100% success rate on missions (which do not involve them being used as cannon fodder, they are commandos after all) and while Wrecker's scarring and apparent memory issues imply that major injuries have happened to them, they are all alive. They have made it this far into the war as together as they have always been. They treat danger as an opportunity for fun and to show off. Any mission that isn't pushing them to the fullest would be a waste of their time and their continued success and survival is something they put down to skill, not luck.

Echo, on the other hand, knows what it's like to be one of the few survivors of what should have been one of the most boring and uneventful postings in the GAR. He knows what it's like to have one mission wipe out almost all his squad. He knows what it's like to be the last one standing. He knows that there's more than a little luck involved in survival. There is never a garantee that everyone will make it back from a mission, even Clone Force 99 are aware of that, but they have never experienced it, not the way Echo has, and when you've never experienced something yourself it becomes very tempting to think of it as something that happens to other people.

What would it have been like to bring all this grief into a group who almost treat their missions like a game? What would it be like to be so keenly aware that any of them at any moment could be killed while everyone else is on an exciting romp through the galaxy? Did it grate? Did he say anything? Did they find him a little over protective or over cautious? Was he? It would be interesting to see an exploration of someone who has known so much death would fit in with the group who seem to think they are somewhat untouchable.

#arc trooper echo #tbb echo #the bad batch #the clone wars #brought to you by my love of reading tbb fic from echo's point of view because of how domino squad are so present in the background

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forsaken-headcanons · 1 month ago

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Ok so.

Theres 2 cabins

1 for survivors

1 for killers

Between them is the big fuckass lake

And jason? This mf goes out for a 'short walk' into the lake and 7 hours later returns soaking wet with pizza grease on him

He lost track of time and ended up at the wrong cabin so naturally the survivors freaked tf out

Long story short jason goes out for short walks in the lake because it reminds him of camp crystal lake/camp blood (in the friday the 13th series) and sometimes accidentally ends up at the survivors cabin

He doesnt kill them he just gets driven out like a wasp

(Can i be 🤑🤑🤑 anon?)

Come on survivor squad that’s a rude way to treat a guest /silly

#forsaken headcanons #roblox forsaken #forsaken roblox #forsaken #🤑🤑🤑 anon #jason forsaken #mod taph 💥

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justaparsec94 · 11 months ago

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Feeling

Summary: When you and Hunter are left alone on The Havoc Marauder the feelings the two of you have kept well hidden finally come to light...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!Reader

Word Count: 5,271

Author's Note: I really don’t know how Hunter’s senses work, especially since they seemed to forget about them as the seasons went on. I like the idea most of fandom subscribes to that all of his senses are heightened but I saw a post once comparing his electroreception to that of a platypus which absolutely kills me. I guess we’ll never know for sure but no matter what I love our dear platypus man LOL

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The Havoc Marauder was uncharacteristically silent as you sat in the cockpit. Most of The Bad Batch, minus Hunter who had stayed behind claiming headache, had left for a supply run earlier and likely wouldn’t be back for a few standard hours. Hunter had retreated to his bunk to sleep moments after the others had left, effectively leaving you alone.

Normally, the chance to explore a new place on a new planet would have thrilled you but like so many other things that had changed recently too. What had once brought excitement now brought fear. You had volunteered to stay with the ship as you didn’t want to risk being seen in a busy spaceport. Not that there were many left in the galaxy that would recognize you, but you just didn’t want to take any chances that might further endanger the squad. Having a former Jedi amongst your ranks was essentially a death sentence these days, and The Bad Batch already had enough heat on them as renegade clones.

With a sigh, you sunk further into the copilot seat as you stared out the viewport. As much as you appreciated some peace and quiet, which admittedly was hard to come by with the squad, the silence left you with too much time to think. Somedays it was hard to wrap your head around all that had happened. The weight of the grief you felt threatened to drown you when you took a moment to stop and acknowledge it. Everything you had once known, had once believed in had been completely turned upside down. Your friends, your former master, all gone in a moment.

As far as you knew you had gone from being one of thousands to one of only a few that remained and even then you had only just barely survived. You weren’t sure if your survival was the will of the force or simply just the result of being in the right place at the right time. In your more cynical moments, you believed it really had only been luck. If Jedi masters with far greater power than your own hadn’t survived you felt you really had no right still being alive. It was a thought that kept you up most nights, survivor's guilt.

Having only been nighted a few rotations before the Clone Wars had started you had never been assigned your own battalion. Instead, throughout the war you had often completed recon and special ops missions that had the GAR assigning small squads of clones to you as needed, mostly commandos. It had been how you had met The Bad Batch in the first place. You’d been paired with the squad on several missions towards the end of the war. In the end, this use of your skills as a Jedi had likely been what had saved you. You hadn’t been near any clones when the order had come through, instead you had been klicks away from the nearest squad scouting. The clones had known you were on the planet though and the manhunt that had happened in the days that had followed Order-66 had nearly claimed your life multiple times. But despite everything that had been thrown your way you had still managed to escape off-world with a blaster wound burning in your side and a broken arm.

Your first thought had been to simply disappear in the galaxy, to find some small backwater planet to live out the rest of your days but without enough fuel or credits to get you anywhere far, desperation had driven you to seek out Cid. You had used the Trandoshan as an informant many times throughout the war and while you still didn’t trust her it had turned out to be a good idea after all as it had led you directly back to The Batch.

You’d been terrified at first, drawing your lightsaber on them the minute they had entered the bar, but it had become clear rather quickly that they were not following orders like the other clones had been. They’d explained everything, Order-66, Palpatine, the inhibitor chips, everything that had happened in the days following the end of the war. To hear the truth, that the men you had fought alongside for so many years, your friends, had been used like pawns in a game, treated in such a horrendous way by both The Republic and the new Empire had broken you more than anything else. It had been in that moment as you stared at the squad in front of you in Cid’s dingy bar that you had come to the realization that everything you had once believed in, everything you had fought for had amounted to nothing at all. All it had done was bring about the demise of nearly everyone you had cared for. You hadn’t been protecting the galaxy, you’d just been one part in bringing it to ruin.

The thought continued to haunt you, even now, months after the end of the war. It had been hard to keep going afterward but being with the Batch and Omega had helped. You had always gotten along well with the squad during the war, in fact, they had become your favourite team to work with and despite not often working with Jedi they had seemed to accept and respect you. You’d always felt welcome amongst them. When they had suggested you stay on with them as they worked with Cid you had initially refused, not wanting to put them in any more danger than they were already in. Even if you had mostly shut yourself off from the force to better hide yourself you still didn’t want to take the chance of being detected. But Cid being Cid hadn’t really given you the option, if you wanted to get the credits you needed to disappear into the galaxy you were going to owe her, and running jobs with the Batch became the only way to do so.

You sighed as you slid further down in the seat if only your master could see you now. Jedi Knight turned mercenary. Your eyes began to sting as you thought of your lost master. Master Antar Wei had been so very kind, wise, and caring. He’d been a true keeper of the peace, a gentle soul with the strength of a warrior. He had taught you so very much, without his teachings you would not have been the person you are today. He had been as close to a father as you had ever had and his loss was nearly unbearable. Tech had been able to get access to some of the Empire’s files and when Master Wei’s name hadn’t appeared on any of the wanted lists you knew he had likely succumbed to the same fate that nearly all of the Jedi had.

You startled slightly as the door to the cockpit opened, so lost in your own thoughts you hadn’t heard the approaching footsteps. You swivelled the chair around to turn and look at Hunter as he entered, trying your best to school your features into an expression that would best hide your inner turmoil.

From the look on Hunter’s face, you hadn’t done the best job. His warm brown eyes were filled with concern, the lines of his face taught as he hovered hesitantly just inside the doorway. He shifted from one foot to the other as his eyes briefly swept the cockpit, as though searching for signs of danger, before they settled back on you.

“Are you… alright?” He asked stiffly, as though he found it uncomfortable to ask you such a thing. His long hair was ruffled, likely from his sleep, making him even more ruggedly handsome than usual. You felt momentarily guilty for disturbing him before you noticed the air of tension that usually surrounded him when he had one of his migraines was no longer present. Only the same unease that had been clinging to him for the past few weeks was there.

Of all the members of The Batch, you had always gotten along best with the Sergeant. You admired his intelligence, his straightforward manner, the sly sense of humour that he let escape every once and a while, and the way he was fully devoted to his brothers. He was one of the most honourable men you had ever met and watching him go from stoic soldier to caring older brother to Omega had been a joy to witness.

Truthfully you had been wrestling with feelings for the gruff clone that were decidedly not Jedi-like since the very first mission you had been on together. There had always just been something about him that had drawn you to him. His signature always seemed brighter to you in the force, and like a moth to a flame, you had struggled to maintain your professionalism around him. Attachment was forbidden after all and some days when you looked at the ridiculously handsome man you knew your feelings were treading into dangerous territory. That had been before though, you reminded yourself, the Jedi were gone and with it, you supposed the rules you had once lived by were as well.

At one point you had been certain that your feelings were not just one-sided, Hunter kept his emotions very closely in check, but there had been looks, touches, conversations, and jokes just between the two of you that had set your heart pounding. But that also had been before. It seemed that whatever had been there was now long gone. In the last few weeks, all you had been able to sense from him was tension. He had done almost a complete 180. He no longer talked to you directly unless absolutely necessary, whenever you entered a room he left as soon as he was able to, even on The Marauder he always retreated to the space furthest away from you. A part of you wondered if you were just overreacting but the other knew that you weren’t, something had changed in him and you had no idea what had caused it. Hunter’s cooling towards you had just been another knife in your already fragile heart. You had lost so much and watching him slip away too, even though he’d never been yours in the first place, had only added to your pain.

You realized suddenly that you had been quiet for longer than what was considered polite you finally spoke, shaking yourself fully from your melancholy thoughts, “I'm fine,” Your voice was soft as you nodded at him. You did your best to plaster a gentle smile on your face in an effort to ease his obvious discomfort.

“Your heart rate was elevated,” Hunter said, answering the question that had been at the forefront of your mind. Though you thought with amusement that you should have known, Hunter’s heightened senses meant there was very little on The Marauder that could be kept secret, “I thought something had happened…”

“No,” You replied with a soft sigh, shaking your head sadly as you continued, “I just got a bit lost in my thoughts. I'm ok.”

His warm brown eyes were still intense but some of the worry had drained out of them as he looked at you for another long moment, “Are you…sure?” He asked hesitantly, looking somewhat like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I’m sure, thank you, Hunter,” You replied with another nod, hoping to reassure him even though internally your heart was aching at the distance between the two of you.

“Ok, I’ll uh - leave you to it then…” While Omega’s presence had forced him to get better at dealing with emotions he still had the tendency to avoid emotional confrontations like a plague. But this complete avoidance was new, in the past you might not have talked about it but he had still always seemed to know when you were feeling down or conflicted. You’d spent many hours and missions together sitting side by side, usually, no words were needed as you had always just found comfort in his solid and warm presence, sometimes he would distract you with stories about missions the squad had been on, but often it was just his silent company that he offered. Those moments together had always been your favourite. You still didn’t know where things between the two of you had gone so wrong.

You watched as he went to turn around and suddenly you found yourself moving from your seat. Silently and quickly you closed the gap between the two of you, your hand reaching out to grasp his wrist, pulling him to a stop before you could really even consider what you were doing. You were so tired of everything but especially this unspoken conflict the two of you seemed to be in, “Hunter, wait…”

He turned to look at you with wide eyes before his gaze darted between your face and where your hand was on his wrist. You let go of him, trying your best to ignore the way your palm was tingling from touching him. He’d always had that effect on you but whereas it had been comforting before it now only brought a sense of sadness, a sense of loss.

“I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong, or something to upset you in any way…” You said softly, the words suddenly flowing out of you without really thinking. Your heart was beating painfully in your chest and your stomach rolled with anxiety. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze as you continued to speak, too afraid of what you might find in the depths of his eyes if you did, “It was not my intention and if there is anything I can do to fix it I will. Or if my presence isn’t wanted here I understand. I know I’m putting you all in danger by simply existing.”

Finally, you looked back up at him just in time to see Hunter’s expression morph into one of confusion and shock, “What? What do you mean? You haven’t done anything wrong. Why would you think that?” He shook his head, “And no, that’s not - you’re part of this squad and we don’t abandon our own.”

“Then what is it?” You asked, suddenly nervous about confronting him. You’d faced down thousands of droids, beasts, criminals, and other adversaries in your life but staring in the face of your friend as you prepared yourself for rejection was almost more terrifying than going into battle, “You can’t seem to stand being in the same room as me. You always seem to leave as quickly as you can, you only talk to me when absolutely necessary, and even then it’s usually through someone else rather than directly. So, I felt the only reasonable conclusion was that I’ve done something wrong, that I’ve upset you in some way. But I can’t change if you don’t talk to me about it.”

Hunter seemed shell-shocked as he stood in front of you, his mouth opened and closed a few times. You could feel the rush of emotions from him without even really trying, but it was so jumbled you couldn’t make sense of any of them. Even in the dim light of the cockpit, you could see his face flushing, which was something entirely new. You had never seen Hunter this nervous before. He was quiet for so long that you were beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer.

“I don’t - I’m not angry at you. I’ve never been more relieved than that day you showed up at Cid’s. I - I thought you had died but then you came back to us, to m-, and you’re a part of this squad. You haven’t done anything wrong…” Hunter finally spoke, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest, “I’m not upset…”

The way he trailed off left you with more questions than answers, so you simply stayed quiet, hoping he would continue.

He took a breath, as though he was steadying himself prior to battle, “You’re…You’re not the problem,” he said finally, “I am.”

You waited another long moment for him to elaborate, but when it seemed like that was all the explanation he was going to give you took a few steps towards him, closing the gap between you.

“What do you mean?” You asked. He seemed to tense at your proximity and at this distance, you could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his nostrils flared momentarily, the slightest flush of red on his cheeks. Your own heart was suddenly pounding in your chest at the intensity of his gaze.

“I just…I…” He started then stopped, redness was beginning to creep its way up his neck and you were surprised to hear he sounded… embarrassed.

“I can…” He tried again, his voice suddenly lower and rougher than you had ever heard it before, “I just feel you more than anyone else. I always have.”

Suddenly everything seemed to click into place, the feeling that had always been there between the two of you, the looks, the touches, the soft way he had always spoken to you, his sudden running away, the emotions he tried so hard to dampen around you. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t figured it out before, that his sudden avoidance was not a rejection of you. It was fear.

You took another step closer, watching his face closely as you grasped his wrist gently once more. His eyes widened at your touch and his entire body seemed to stiffen but he didn’t pull away from you.

“What do you feel Hunter?” You asked softly, your voice steady despite the fact that you were thrumming with nervous energy. You couldn’t stop the question from flowing out of you. Maybe it was wrong to ask, maybe it went against everything you had been taught, but you found that in that moment, as you stared up at him you didn’t care anymore.

He let out a shuttering sigh before his head dipped just slightly to meet your gaze. His eyes were molten and so intense that you felt as if suddenly every nerve ending in your body were alight. You had kept your connection to the force limited in the past few months but you let your hold on it loosen in that moment, letting it surround the two of you. You listened to it sing, just as it had done every time the two of you had been together in the past.

“Everything. I can hear your voice in a crowd of a hundred, I can smell you even when you’re not around, and I can feel your heartbeat in a different room. When you’re near me I can’t take my eyes off of you and even when you’re gone I can’t stop thinking about you,” Hunter’s voice was a husky whisper, “It-it’s not appropriate but I can’t seem to control myself. So it’s just better if I leave you alone.”

You were quiet for a long moment, considering before you spoke softly again, “Better for who?”

His eyes widened, as though he couldn’t quite believe what you had just asked. Before you could have enough time to second guess yourself you reached out gently to place your hand over his heart. Even without your own heightened senses, you would have been able to feel the way it was pounding in his chest. You had never been so close to him before in such a way and the sensation was thrilling. It was as if the air itself between the two of you was humming with energy.

The brown of his irises had been almost completely engulfed by the black of his pupils as you looked back up at him, “I feel you too Hunter. I have from the moment we first met. The force feels different around you too, like you’re calling to me.”

You closed your eyes as his hand reached up to cup your jaw ever so tentatively as if he were afraid that his touch would shatter you. Your skin thrummed under his touch and you pressed further into his hand, revelling in the sensation of finally being so close to him. For so long you had been so worried that his feelings for you had shifted. To have the truth finally out in the open felt as though the weight of the galaxy had suddenly lifted off of your shoulders.

“But you’re a Jedi,” Hunter said softly, hesitantly, causing your eyes to pop open once more, “It’s not allowed.”

“Attachment,” You replied as a wave of sadness washed through you. The words the Masters had once preached echoed through your head, “You’re right, it is forbidden. Or it was. I’ve spent so many days and nights thinking about the Jedi Order, about all that has been lost. And I still don’t know the answers to the questions I have, I don’t know that I ever will. But I can’t help but think that our ways only led to our downfall. Perhaps if we had done things differently if we hadn’t been so blinded by our own morality…”

“I suppose we’ll never know. But the one thing I do know is that I want whatever this is between us. I’m not sure how something that feels so right, something that seems to be part of the force itself, can be considered wrong. I don’t know how many days are left to me, I am no longer a Jedi but I will live the rest of my life in danger. I do not wish to live the way I was before. I want you Hunter, I have since the moment I met you.”

As you had spoken Hunter’s head had slowly lowered down towards yours until you were nearly touching. At your final words, his forehead had pressed against your own. His gaze was still intense as ever so slowly the hand on your jaw tipped your face up towards his own. His voice was so low when he spoke again that you felt it more than heard it, “I’m yours.”

His words were all the encouragement you needed to close the final gap between the two of you, capturing his lips with your own in a desperate kiss. He was warm and wonderful and everything you had ever dreamed of. The hand you still had resting over his heart curled in the fabric of his blacks, pulling yourself closer to him as he deepened the kiss. His free hand came up to press against the small of your back, the heat of it searing into your skin as you gently nipped at his lower lip. You’d had dalliances with others before, that hadn’t been forbidden , but you had never experienced anything quite like this. The force seemed to come alive as the two of you melted into one another, thrumming in the air around you. Everything else seemed to fade away into nothing , there was only Hunter.

A soft moan escaped him as you pressed further up into him, the sound rumbling in his chest and sending a shiver down your spine. You lifted your free hand to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his surprisingly soft hair. You’d always wondered what it would have been like to run your fingers through it and reality was proving to be better than expectation. He seemed to shiver at your touch, the hand at the small of your back flexing just slightly as he pulled your hips flush against his own. You could still feel his heart racing beneath where your other hand was still fisted in his shirt as his tongue pressed against your lower lip. You parted your lips, giving him access and gasping at the new sensation as his tongue explored your mouth. It was dizzying finally being so close to him, to be this connected.

After what could have been simply minutes or hours Hunter pulled away from you, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Your own pulse was still racing as he tipped his forehead back down to rest against your own. His eyes were closed as he pressed further into you, nose just brushing against your own as he held you close.

You were both silent for a long time, simply basking in the warmth and feeling of being in each other's arms. But finally, Hunter spoke, his voice low and rough, “I’m sorry that I’ve been avoiding you, that I made you feel as though you’d done something wrong,”

Your eyes opened, gazing up into his face that was suddenly filled with sorrow. You let the hand at the back of his neck slowly move until it cupped his jaw, mimicking his own hold on you, “It’s ok Hunter, everything has been so complicated lately. And I understand how conflicted you must have felt, I’ve felt that way too.”

Hunter let out a soft sigh and with it you felt all of the tension he had been holding dissipate, his muscles relaxing beneath your hand as he seemed to melt further into you. He closed his eyes as his thumb gently stroked along your jawline, the sensation of it was electric and you wanted nothing more than just stay there and bask in his presence forever.

His breath was warm against your face as each inhale brought you closer together. He tipped his head just slightly, his lips gently brushing against your own in the barest hint of a kiss, once, twice, before you pressed deeper into him. You shivered as your lips melted into his, tongue sliding over his full bottom lip before giving it the gentlest nip that made his chest rumble with another groan.

The two of you came slowly together and apart, gasps and gentle moans escaping you both and you discovered this new part of one another. Your heart was racing in your chest, your skin tingling with each soft touch of his lips to your own, your skin flaming beneath his hands. The feeling is intoxicating and you have just enough wherewithal to briefly wonder if this is exactly why attachment was forbidden, because truthfully now that you have him you never wish to let him go.

Eventually, you do pull away, instantly missing the contact but forcing yourself to look up at him as he moves both arms to wrap around your waist. You take a moment to simply look at him as your breath begins to even out once more, eyes tracing the lines of his face, the dark shadow of his tattoo. You’ve always appreciated how handsome he was but being so close is something special. You get lost in him for a moment as you notice the flecks of green in his warm brown eyes, the freckles across the bridge of his nose that are so faint they barely stand out against his deeply tanned skin, the dimple that appears only on the left side of his face as his mouth lifts into a soft smile as he gazes right back at you.

You blink once, twice, trying to clear your mind of the distraction that he is and focus on the thought that had originally pulled you away from him.

“How is your headache?” You asked gently, a small wave of guilt for having woken him in the first place rushing through you. It had been the reason he had stayed behind after all, and it wasn’t very often he had the chance to get any extra rest with the lifestyle you all led.

His mouth curled into a smile and he let out a small huff of laughter, his hair flopping over the top of his bandana as he shook his head, “It’s fine. Forgotten actually,” He replied as he moved his hand to cradle your face once more, his touch feather-light.

“Good,” You answered before you turned your head just slightly to press a soft kiss to the palm of his hand, “But you should still get some rest. It’s not easy to come by these days.”

He hummed thoughtfully, his gaze still intense as he moved his hand away from your face, both trailing down slowly until he had your hands grasped in his own, “Only if you join me though.”

You felt your face flush at his suggestion, you wanted to, desperately, but another worry suddenly entered your head at the idea, “The others might be back soon, though…” This was still new and while part of you didn’t care if his brothers and sister saw the two of you together the other part wanted to keep this budding thing between you secret for just a little bit longer, if only for his sake as you knew how intensely private Hunter was.

Hunter’s mouth ticked up into a smirk again, his brown eyes dancing with amusement as he answered, “Tech has been calculating the odds of us getting together since our very first mission and Omega has some Mantell mix riding on it.”

You couldn’t stop the soft laugh that burst out of you at that, a bright smile overtaking your face, “Well, we wouldn’t want to let them down, now would we?”

His eyes were warm and there was the barest hint of a smile on his face before he lifted your hand closer to his mouth, pressing a soft and quick kiss to your palm. Your smile brightened at his replication of your earlier gesture, the skin beneath his lips tingling from the contact.

You let him lead you back towards the bunks, your pulse racing beneath your skin as he climbed up into the middle first before holding a hand back out to you to steady you as you found your own footing. It was a tight squeeze, but after some mild shifting you finally settled, your head resting against his chest as he laid on his back, his arms coming up to wrap around you and hold you closer to him as you let your leg rest over top of his own. Being so close to him every feeling you had ever sensed from him was amplified and it was easy to just get lost in the sensation of him as you listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat. Neither of you said a word, for there really weren’t any words to be said. Nothing had ever felt so right before and there was no way you were ever going to let that go, ever let him go again.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to slip shut or for his own breathing to even out, his grip on you never lessening though even as he slept. The trauma of the past few years still haunted you as you lay with him but the thoughts were easier to push away as you focused on the force and the way it moved around the two of you, calming, gentle, right. You knew that nothing could ever truly repair the damage left by your losses but for the first time in a very long time, there was a glimmer of hope brewing in your chest. With Hunter, there was a chance at a future, something you hadn’t been able to even consider since Order-66 had been issued.

You weren’t sure what that future would hold, for any of you, but right now, wrapped up gently in Hunter’s arms you felt safer than you ever had and there was nowhere else in the galaxy you would rather be.

#Hunter #tbb hunter #Hunter x reader #Hunter x jedi!reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #star wars fanfiction

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demonsslayersstuff · 8 months ago

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I’m here for you (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

A/N: Here is an angst heavy Levi fic. Post mission, Levi is there to comfort you in his own way as you struggle with the trauma of a failed mission beyond the wall. (Gender Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of death, survivors guilt, ptsd, trauma, and suicide. If these trigger you, please do not read! This is not a happy drabble, but it is ends on a lighter tone.

You slide off your horse with a defeated slump. Today had been easily one of the most difficult days in your life. You were use to death, nearly every scouting mission past the walls resulted in someone’s death. But today, today you’d lost more than half of your squad.

You look over your shoulder to see the three remaining members you had left. You note the hollowness in their eyes, the gauntness in their faces. Your words still in your throat and for the first time in a long time, you feel tears form in your eyes. You turn your face back towards your horse, gripping the reins tightly as you lay your face against its neck, trying to calm yourself.

“Captain”, you hear called meekly out to you, forcing you to take a deep breath. “Dismissed, you all deserve a much needed rest, report back tomorrow morning”, you manage to get out in your typical commanding voice, but deep down you didn’t feel like a captain, you felt like a failure. You watch as they dismount, leaving their horses to the stable hands before they quietly make their way to the barracks in silence, clearly traumatized by the previous events that had befallen your group.

You sigh knowing you should do a mission debrief with Erwin, wash the wet blood that caked your face and clothing, and probably eat. But you do none of those things. Instead you find yourself heading towards the wall, the very one whose gates you just passed through. It’s not long before you find yourself atop the stone structure, walking the familiar path. You walk past squads who are taken aback by your appearance, but say nothing, something that you are grateful for. You find a quiet place, one that rarely gets much foot traffic, and plop down, feet dangling off the edge.

You sit there for a long time, numbly staring out of the vast expanse of an unknown world, knowing that somewhere out there were the corpses of your squad members, unable to be brought home for a proper burial. You sit there long enough that the blood that coated your face and body has completely dried and the sun has long set past the horizon. It’s only then do you feel his presence. “How long have you been watching me?”, you ask quietly, making no effort to look in his direction. “Long enough to miss dinner, so I guess we are both going hungry tonight”, he states before finally walking towards you. “You’re not my babysitter, you could have left”, you remark finally glancing to your left, taking in his figure.

“True, but something told me to stay”, he replies gruffly coming to stand next you. He lowers his gaze to yours, looking at you carefully. “I’m not gonna kill myself Levi”, you mutter. “I know”, he simply replies, though his tone indicated that he didn’t fully believe you. You don’t say anything, instead focusing your vision back out towards the darken fields, sighing. You had a job to do and you needed to do it, regardless of how you were feeling. “Should probably go shower and hand that mission report in”, you say, but still make no effort to actually get up. “It’s not your fault”, Levi tells you suddenly, easily reading your thoughts. You look up at him, anger flashing in your eyes. You open your mouth to say something, but he’s quick to cut you off. “Don’t do this to yourself, don’t. They chose to join the scouts on their own accord. They knew what they were getting into, so you cannot blame yourself”, he tells you sternly.

An uneasy silence falls between the two of you. You knew his words were true as harsh as they sounded, but they didn’t help ease the pain that you were feeling. Levi sighs before offering you his hand. He wasn’t very good at handling big emotional things, but Levi knew how well you easily responded to his touch, his physical presence often helped calmed you down when you were having a bad day. You look up at him questionably, surprised at the fact he was openly offering you his hand, in public no less. “Just take it brat”, he states. You place your palm in his own as his fingers interlock with yours. Levi gives you a subtle, but reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go get you cleaned up”, Levi says, his tone a bit softer than his previous remarks as he pulls you up to your feet. You follow him quietly as he leads the way towards the barracks, his grip on your hand remaining as you weave through streets.

It’s not long before you find yourself in front of the shower house, practically deserted at this late hour. “Go shower. I’m going to grab you some fresh clothes”, Levi tells you, his authoritative voice back as he loosens his hold on your hand. With a squint of his eyes he quickly recedes down the hallway towards your shared quarters as you push open the door. You strip your dirty garments, tossing them into the laundry bin before you step into one of the showers.

The temperate water stings your skin, loosing up the caked blood. You watch as the draining water turns a dark tone of red and you wonder which of your squad members blood it was. Memories flash through your mind; laughter over a drink on a rare evening off with your crew, teasing during trainings, proudness as you watch them take down their first titan. As quickly as it started, it quickly ends and you feel a strangled scream erupt from the back of your throat, the reality of their deaths crashing down on you. All you’d have of them now would be memories.

You hit the concrete wall with your fist as you cry, the pent up emotion spilling out from years of keeping your feelings in check. The pain as your knuckles scrape against the hard material keeps you grounded from completely losing it. As you move to hit the wall again, you feel a hand grab your wrist, stopping you. You turn your head to see Levi standing there with a look on his face you’ve never seen before. His blue eyes lock on to yours and you can see the sadness that lingers in his gaze, equal to the worry that is held in them too. “I just…fuck I just…I don’t even know”, you cry. Levi pulls you towards him, not caring that your wet body soaks his clothes, he wraps his arms tightly around you, holding you. “Just let it out”, he whispers.

The two of you stand in a tight embrace for a long time as you cry into his shoulder, before the tears eventually subside. You pull away from him slightly, a guilty expression evident on your face. You open your mouth to apologize, you’d never been this emotional in front of Levi before. However Levi just shakes his head, “Don’t, sometimes we need to let it out”, he tells you. Levi leans up to briefly kiss your forehead before stepping away to grab you a towel. When he comes back you let him towel you off, relishing in his gentle touches.

You quickly put on some fresh clothes before you finally step out of the shower house, back into the dark hallway. “I suppose it’s too late to give the commander my report”, you muse as the two of you walk down the hall. Levi makes no effort to talk about the breakdown you’d just had. But that was Levi, never forcing you to talk about things until you were ready to. “Seeing as it’s two in the morning, probably not. Do it first thing the morning”, Levi tells you, as he opens the bedroom door. You nod your head as you step through the threshold, kicking your boots off as he quickly changes out of his wet uniform.

As the two of you slide underneath the covers you turn to face Levi, scooting closer to him. “Thank you”, you whisper. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him, maneuvering your head to his chest. “I’m always here for you”, he simply says, leaning down to kiss your temple. “Now sleep”, he commands softly as you snuggle into his body, feeling a bit better. You knew a simple cry session would wasn’t going to fix this, but you knew with Levi by your side you’d get through it.

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