thank you @cchickki for the wip tag! since i don't have any art wips, i'll post a tiny bit of my andyeddie fic
title: call it fate, call it karma
(yes this is the one where andy still dies, but eddie lives, so if that's not your thing now is the time to look away and keep scrolling)
Eddie had barely been able to look. He had given up trying to move, his legs just wouldn't obey. Instead, he stood there completely frozen. Something close to terror and disbelief had warped the features of his face into something his men had never seen. He didn't look scared, not really, but he looked closer to a ghost than anything living. A ghost about to be violently ripped open, and torn apart at the seams, may have been more accurate, but one who believed if he willed it hard enough, reality might just submit to him instead.
If he could have felt anything in that moment, he would have been grateful that the men around him were too consumed by their own grief to truly focus on his. Maybe somewhere, deep down in his chest, mangled screams of no, no, no, please, no were crashing around, longing to find their way up to his vocal cords, but they never did. His body and mind had formed a united front of denial, refusing to accept the scene in front of him, and so he stood there, unmoving, as his captain was carried awkwardly back down the line. His courage had abandoned him for the first time since the war began, ripping itself out of his grasp and escaping into the hills to join his enemies.
He couldn't look away. He wanted to, he desperately wanted to tear his eyes away from the man he had so much to say to, too much to say to really, but he couldn't. He'd never be able to say any of it now, so he just stood there. Frozen.
He had never been any good at looking away from Andy Haldane anyway.
He'd been embarrassed about it the first few times he'd been caught noticeably staring, and he never would have let it happen with anyone else. He was better than that, but there was something about Andy that made it impossible to look away, even when polite etiquette dictated he should. Eddie would watch him poring over maps and plans in the officers tent for hours. He was never doing anything particularly remarkable, even though everything Andy did seemed so to those around him, but that's what Eddie liked most. It was the quiet intimacy of comfortable silence, and the sense that Andy was sharing something mundane and almost domestic just with him. That was if you could ignore the sounds of distant explosions, of course.
He was certain he'd be content looking at his captain from a few feet away forever, even if it meant his throat would burn each time Andy looked up from whatever he was reading with a grin that said Yeah, I can feel your gaze before silently returning to his work. Sure, it was pretty normal for a lieutenant to look to his captain in the quiet moments of war. For guidance or reassurance, maybe, but Eddie Couldn't. Look. Away. Even worse, he knew he didn't want to, and it was no different in death. Eddie Jones would watch faithfully until the end, even if it burned away at his insides with each passing second. Nothing but charred ashes would remain, sinking further into the hollowed out cavity in his chest, and somehow they would call him the lucky one, the one who survived, the one who lived.
no pressure tags @im-chinese-believe-it-or-not @thewayisset @mads-weasley @countbass-e @jump-wings i'd love to see what you're all working on but only if you want to share things ofc!!!
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I HAVE SHIP ART LES GOOOOO
:D
I'm a sucker for confessions after a difficult battle because then [character 1] ain't confessing because they think they won't be able to tell afterwards, they're telling because they know [character 2] will stay
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