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redux-iterum · 10 months

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Burning Hearts: Chapter Twenty-Five

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Cloudy cried his little throat out the entire way home. Fireheart couldn’t help being a little grateful for that; as unpleasant as the wails were, they ensured him that his nephew was feeling well enough to wail in the first place. He had a foggy idea that holding a kit usually calmed them down, though, from what Goldenflower had told him once. Maybe he wasn’t doing it right.

By the time he made it to camp, a good-sized patrol’s worth of cats was gone, presumably the hunting patrol. Those who were present immediately looked at him once Cloudy let out one more outraged squeal. Eyes stretched wide and questions rained down, none of which Fireheart answered. He just went straight to Goldenflower lying near the nursery entrance with Frostfur, both of whom were staring at him in shock.

“Can he go in the nursery, please?” Fireheart said once he set down Cloudy, a little out of breath from the constant quick pace of this evening. “It’s too cold out here for him.”

Goldenflower didn’t ask for an explanation. She just picked the kit up and turned for the nursery, not acknowledging Fireheart calling after her, “His name is Cloudy.”

“Fireheart, what in the name of the Three—?” Speckletail walked up to him, looking absolutely baffled. “Where did you get a kitten?”

“I need to talk to Bluestar about that,” was all he replied with. “Where is she?”

Speckletail, still taken aback, looked behind herself and called to Teaselfoot, “Where’s Bluestar?”

“She, uh, she should be in her den, right?” The brown tabby tom seemed unsure of whether to run and fetch their leader or stay in place, his feet shuffling repeatedly. “Should I, uh—”

“Please,” Fireheart said.

Teaselfoot scurried out of camp, leaving the rest of the present Clan to continue asking questions that Fireheart still didn’t answer. Bluestar was in camp fairly quickly, her face somewhat contorted as it struggled to decide to wear anger or confusion.

“Where did you get a kitten from, Fireheart?” she asked, voice steady, if not a little edged.

Fireheart willed himself to meet her eyes and speak calmly. “The Houses.”

If the Clan was curious before, they were outraged now.

“You stole a kittypet’s kit?!”

“Why were you in the Houses?!”

“Where’s the mother?!”

Bluestar held up her tail and the questions died down. “Whose kitten is this?”

Fireheart held in a sigh of anxiety and kept his voice loud enough for the entire camp to hear. “My sister’s.”

Silence, initially. Then Darkstripe spat out, “A kittypet sister?”

Fireheart wasn’t anxious about answering him, at least. “Yes.”

The Clan swapped hissed disdain and near-shouted betrayal. Bluestar alone was silent, glaring down at her former apprentice with narrowed eyes. Fireheart met her stare, easy and steady, until the wider reaction settled enough for Bluestar’s quiet, ground-out response to be heard by everyone.

“Explain yourself,” she said.

Fireheart did sigh then, willing his fear out of his system. He raised his voice and said, “I met my sister when I was hunting for RiverClan. We talked a lot, up until RiverClan didn’t need prey anymore and I didn’t need to go to the Houses.” He let murmurs rise and fall before continuing. “She was pregnant the last time I saw her. After…” He swallowed. “After this evening, I got worried for her own kits and went to check on her.”

“You shouldn’t be talking with kittypets,” Dustpelt said sharply. “Even if you were one yourself.”

“Even if she’s my sister?” Fireheart said, calmer than the blaze in his chest. “You all who were born here, you know what it’s like to have blood-family. I didn’t, up until I met her again.” His voice wavered a little. “And once you have that, it’s kind of hard to let go, isn’t it?”

Murmurs again, but more subdued. Some cats’ expressions turned sympathetic. Fireheart chanced a peek at Frostfur close to him, who nodded kindly, her green eyes almost a little sad.

“Family or not,” Bluestar said, a little softer now, “that doesn’t explain a mother giving up a kit to strangers.”

“She…” Fireheart’s ears went back as he desperately prayed they’d understand. “She’s terrified of losing her litter to humans. Kittypets, we get taken away so young, and we never know our family. It’s a miracle she and I found each other again. So… she wanted me to take one of them, so she’d know where he is and that he’s well. She’s got faith that we can take care of him and raise him to be a warrior.”

Bluestar regarded her old apprentice with a stony face. “Would you speak for him, then?”

Fireheart stood as tall as he could. “I would. And when he becomes an apprentice, I’ll mentor him.”

Demanding an apprentice wasn’t something he was sure he was allowed to do, but by the faint gleam trying to make itself known in Bluestar’s eyes, it wasn’t exactly illegal. The Clan around them spoke to each other quietly, debating on whether to keep Cloudy or not and if Fireheart could convince Bluestar, who herself was silent.

“Well, I don’t think it matters.”

Everyone turned their heads to the nursery entrance, where Goldenflower was pulling herself into the open.

“You’re not getting that kit back either way,” she elaborated. “Brindleface took him before I could say anything. He’s nursing at her belly with Ashkit and Aspenkit.”

“We can’t afford to upset Brindleface,” Frostfur said to Bluestar. “She’s fragile enough, even without losing Elderkit.”

“I say we keep him!” Cinderpaw called from in front of the stump. “Fireheart was a pretty good idea. Maybe this one will be, too.”

Scattered conversation among the Clan gradually led to scattered approval.

Darkstripe growled, “That kittypet will be coming for her kit soon, just you watch.”

“I’ll handle that, too,” Fireheart replied. “If it comes.”

Darkstripe’s teeth flashed, but he said nothing more.

“I only hope that little ant will have longer fur than yours,” Teaselfoot said to Fireheart. “He’s going to need it this winter.”

Fireheart perked up. “I met his father, actually. He’s as fluffy as you all are.”

“Then we should be fine!” Teaselfoot nodded. “Bluestar, let Brindleface keep, uh… what’s his name?”

“Cloudy,” Fireheart said.

“His Clan name.”

“Oh. Uh—”

“Cloudkit will be fine,” Goldenflower said with an amused purr.

Bluestar scanned the rest of the Clan, turning to face them. “Then are we agreed that the kit will stay?”

“Not like Brindleface is gunna give us a choice,” Dustpelt muttered with no bite in his voice.

With other words of acceptance, Bluestar turned back to Fireheart.

“You’ll stay true to your word,” she said. “When he becomes an apprentice, he’ll be yours.”

Fireheart nodded firmly.

---

The rest of the night was spent by every conversation circling around the new kitten coming after the loss of Elderkit and how Brindleface must be feeling. When the hunting patrol returned, they were immediately filled in. Greystripe and Ravenwing were in the party and Fireheart went over the whole story again with them.

“Your sister is something else,” Greystripe remarked when Fireheart was finished. “Not that I blame her, but I wouldn’t give my kits to another cat to raise.” His voice fell a little. “If I could help it.”

Ravenwing patted his back leg with his tail and said to Fireheart, “I hope she’ll feel better with him here.”

Fireheart’s eyes dimmed and unfocused as he thought of Rosy’s fearful face. “It’s the least I can do for her.”

The night eventually petered out, and Fireheart went to the nest at the front of the warriors’ den, prepared to leap to his feet and run outside if Cloudkit cried out for any reason. Even internal reassurances that the queens could handle it did little to keep him at peace, even in his dreams, which were mostly just vague flashes of Rosy’s miserable eyes as she pleaded for him to take Cloudkit.

He woke up late the next evening, being the last cat out of the den. No one seemed to mind, only casually greeting him as he trotted past them. He bobbed his head to each of them and wished them a good evening, heading for the prey pile.

“Good evening, Swiftpaw,” he said as the apprentice pulled a well-fed rat off the top of the pile.

“Evening!” Swiftpaw gave him a friendly head tilt. “Do you know if Bluestar is in her den? I was supposed to bring her this.”

“I’m not sure, actually.” Fireheart rolled a shoulder. “But you could probably leave it in there if she isn’t, as a nice surprise.”

“Oh, good idea.” Swiftpaw picked up the rat by its neck and turned, padding to the entrance, when a shouted croak like a toad being chased made him pause.

“Give that here,” said Yellowfang, limp-stomping up to the larger apprentice, who still shrunk back from the small mess of dark fur. “Quick, now.”

Swiftpaw, confused, dropped the rat. “It, um… did you want it instead?”

Yellowfang didn’t answer him. She crouched her front half by the rat, squinting at it, before barking to Cinderpaw, “Girl! Come sniff this for me!”

Her back leg lifted but now crumpled a little, Cinderpaw hobbled as quickly as she could to her mentor. Yellowfang directed her with a paw to the rat’s mouth, which she sniffed and then jerked back in alarm.

“Don’t put that in your mouth again!” she cried, startling her brother into flinching. “It’s deadly! I can smell it!”

The babble of camp faded as cats looked her way.

“What do you mean, ‘deadly’?” Lizardtail came up to stand by Swiftpaw, frowning.

Yellowfang turned the rat over, muttering to herself, before she spotted something and slapped the rat’s side. “See here!”

Fireheart (and a good number of other cats) came forward to inspect. Standing by Cinderpaw, he peered at where Yellowfang had pulled the fur back. A pair of small holes, scabbed over with dark, dried blood, stuck out against the pale skin.

“Adder-bite?” Mousefur craned her neck forward, eyes wide. “How did that happen?”

“I guess at least one snake is still awake.” Cinderpaw shuddered. “That thing is poisoned.”

Swiftpaw looked at Lizardtail fearfully. “I– I was supposed to give that to Bluestar. Am I in trouble? I didn’t mean to—”

“Easy, easy,” Lizardtail said patiently. “You didn’t know. Neither did any of us.”

“Who brought the rat in?” Yellowfang asked the gathering crowd. At the shakes of heads and uncertain mutters, she scoffed and tossed her head. “Useless. Someone bury that somewhere far off from here.”

“I’ll do it,” Swiftpaw said quickly, glancing at his mentor for approval before saying again, “I’ll bury it. Since I almost brought it to Bluestar.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lizardtail said. “In case that adder’s still around.”

Swiftpaw nodded and leaned his head in to take the rat, pausing and then sniffing at its mouth. He said to his sister, “I don’t smell anything.”

“Well, you’re not a seer,” Cinderpaw jokingly sniffed. “A seer’s nose is sharper than anyone’s.”

Swiftpaw rolled his eyes good-humoredly and gingerly picked up the rat by its tail. He and Lizardtail quickly left, leaving the cats in camp to spread out again and continue their conversations.

“Good thing you stopped him,” Fireheart said to Yellowfang as Cinderpaw hobbled off. “That was dangerous.”

Yellowfang’s huge eyes were narrowed, focused and almost frustrated. Almost under her breath, she replied, “That was only the first thing.”

Fireheart blinked.

“I tell you this in secret, boy,” she said, looking up at him now and still speaking quietly. “I and the girl dream of something cold and painful—a thorn in a heart, iced with grief. A strange hurt indeed. For once, StarClan tells me something that I must figure out with thinking.”

Fireheart tilted his head. “I thought your dreams were all clear as day to you.”

“Ach.” Yellowfang scowled. “I’m missing something important. I say this with no dramatics: there is a danger somewhere in this rotten forest that eludes me.”

Fireheart’s stomach clenched.

“This pain comes from within,” she continued in a hushed rasp. “That rat is just one twist of the thorn. Boy, if you see or hear anything, you must tell me. Say naught to the rest. They’d panic or doubt me.”

Fireheart swallowed and nodded. “I’ll keep an eye out.”

Yellowfang opened her wide mouth, then paused and squinted one eye at him. “Something troubles you even now, does it not?”

Where to even start? Fireheart thought, and sighed. “Just a couple things that I’m not really certain I should talk about. Friends and family and stuff.”

The old seer didn’t look particularly satisfied, but there was knowledge in her eyes. She took a step back on her good front leg and curtly dipped her head.

“You ought to speak them aloud at some point,” she said. “If you feel they may risk the Clan.”

“They won’t, I’m pretty sure.”

“Fine, then.” Yellowfang hesitated before adding slowly, “But my tattered ears are open to your pains, boy.”

Fireheart felt his eyes crease and he looked at his old charge fondly. “I appreciate that, Yellowfang. Thank you.”

Yellowfang flicked her tail in a poor attempt to be dismissive and casual. “Just bring not whining about the fat one arguing with the coward again.”

Fireheart snorted. “No promises.”

Her huge orange eyes rolling once, Yellowfang turned away and went off to join Cinderpaw back at the stump, chastising her for trying to pose her leg more elegantly.

Fireheart watched her go. His stomach was still tense.

For the love of everything, he thought in the direction of the stars, please let my troubles mean nothing.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #chapter #chapter twenty five #book two #arc one #burning hearts

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renee-writer · 8 months

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April 15th Chapter Twenty-five

AO3

He weeps, unashamed, as he holds Quinton James, in his arms. The little boy is him and Claire. His hair, her eyes. His chin, her cheeks. He is a miracle.

“Look at you.” He softly says as he blinks lazily up at him, “our beautiful son.”

“Our second one.” Claire says. She lays, more asleep then awake on their bed. It has been cleaned. She lays in a new dressing gown. Jenny and Mary are also taken much needed breaks.

The midwife had delivered the afterbirth, checked mam and baby, pronouncing them both perfect.

They are. All of them. Fergus sleeps beside his mama after the excitement of meeting his brother.

“Aye, how blessed we are.”

She sighs, snuggling down and closing her eyes. Birth is insanely hard, more then she could ever imagine. Worth it though, she thinks as sleep starts to take her over.

Young master Quinton starts to cry. She sits straight up. Jamie is trying to sooth him to no avail.

“He is hungry.” Claire says, already opening her gown. Jamie hands him over to his mama. He watches, slack jawed, as his son takes his first meal. They are both naturals at it. Claire from watching Mary and Quinton by his natural instincts.

“Does it hurt?”

She shakes her head, not looking up from where Quinton nurses. “No, it feels queer but not unpleasant. It is relaxing, in fact.”

She lays back down, keeping her son attached. After a bit, she switches sides. The baby falls off her nipple, sound asleep. His mama isn’t fat off. Jamie lifts his son up for a winding before settling him on his chest and watching his family sleep.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #april 15th #chapter twenty five #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom

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aurora-by-jacqui-natla · 11 months

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25. TRIAL

CAUIS'S HAND TWITCHED AS IF HE WANTED TO SLAP HER AGAIN. "What do you mean?" he whispered steelily.

"She's not the same, but I think it's the same child. What I mean is, she's changed. This child is bigger than the one I saw, but—"

Caius's furious gasp crackled through his suddenly bared teeth, and Irina broke off without finishing. Aro flitted to Caius's side and put a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Be composed, brother. We have time to sort this out. No need to be hasty."

With a sullen expression, Caius turned his back on Irina.

"Now, sweetling," Aro said in a warm, sugary murmur. "Show me what you're trying to say." He held his hand out to her.

Uncertainly, Irina took his hand. He held hers for only five seconds. "You see, Caius?" he said. "It's a simple matter to get what we need."

Caius didn't answer him. From the corner of his eye, Aro glanced once at his audience, his mob, and then turned back to Carlisle.

"And so we have a mystery on our hands, it seems. It would appear the child has grown. Yet Irina's first memory was that of an immortal child. Curious."

"That's exactly what I'm trying to explain," Carlisle said, and from the change in his voice, I could guess at his relief. This was the pause we had pinned all our nebulous hopes on.

Carlisle held out his hand again.

Aro hesitated for a moment. "I would rather have the explanation from someone more central to the story, my friend. Am I wrong to assume that this breach was not of your making?"

"There was no breach."

"Be that as it may, I will have every facet of the truth." Aro's feathery voice hardened. "And the best way to get that is to have the evidence directly from your talented son." He inclined his head in Edward's direction. "As the child clings to his newborn mate, I'm assuming Edward is involved."

Edward turned to quickly kiss Bella's forehead and Renesmee's, not meeting her eyes. Then he strode across the snowy field, clapping Carlisle on the shoulder as he passed. I heard a low whimper; Esme's terror breaking through.

The red haze around the Volturi army flamed brighter than before. I watched Edward cross the empty white space alone (but I could see the endure Renesmee would have to face when stepping closer to the adversaries) and Bella froze still as if she was ready to burst.

Jane smiled as Edward crossed the midpoint in the distance between us when he was closer to them than he was to us.

That little smile did it for her. Bella was ready to get herself into position: fury peaked and muscles tightened. She threw her shield with all the force in her mind and flung it across the impossible expanse of the field like a javelin. Her breath rushed out in a huff with the exertion. As she tried to expand her shield further than she could ever do, Edward was still walking to Aro.

A startled laugh burst through her lips. I saw Jacob's big black eye roll down to stare at her like she'd lost her mind.

Edward stopped a few steps away from Aro, his chin came up arrogantly, and he held his hand out to Aro as if he were conferring a great honour. Aro seemed only delighted with his attitude, but his delight was not universal. His shield fluttered nervously in Aro's shadow. Caius's scowl was so deep it looked like his papery, translucent skin would crease permanently. Little Jane bared her teeth, and beside Alec's eyes narrowed in concentration.

Aro closed the distance without pause; what did he have to fear? The hulking shadows of the lighter grey cloaks were but a few yards away. Jane and her burning gift could throw Edward on the ground, writhing in agony. Alec could blind and deafen him before he could take a step in Aro's direction. No one knew that Bella had the power to stop them.

With an untroubled smile, Aro took Edward's hand. His eyes snapped shut at once, and then his shoulders hunched under the onslaught of information: thoughts, feelings, moments, he knew them all. Bella hissed with frustration.

"Bella, you got this," I told her quietly.

"Easy, Bella," Zafrina whispered.

She clenched her teeth together. Aro continued to concentrate on Edward's memories. Edward's head bowed, too, the muscles in his neck locking tight as he read back again everything that Aro took from him, and Aro's response to it all.

This two-way but unequal conversation continued long enough that even the guard grew uneasy. Low murmurs ran through the line until Caius barked a sharp order for silence. Jane was edging forward like she couldn't help herself, and the shield's face was distressed. Aro straightened, his eyes flashing open, their expression awed and wary. He did not release Edward's hand.

Edward's muscles loosened ever so slightly.

"You see?" Edward asked his velvet voice calm.

"Yes, I see, indeed," Aro agreed, and amazingly, he sounded almost amused. "I doubt whether any two among gods or mortals have ever seen quite so clearly."

The disciplined faces of the guard showed disbelief.

"You have given me much to ponder, young friend," Aro continued. "Much more than I expected."

Aro still didn't release Edward's hand, making the vampire tense; Edward didn't answer.

"May I meet her?" Aro asked, pleading with sudden eager interest. "I never dreamed of the existence of such a thing in all my centuries. What an addition to our histories!"

"What is this about, Aro?" Caius snapped before Edward could answer. Just the question had Bella pulling Renesmee around into her arms, cradling her protectively against her chest.

"Something you've never dreamed of, my practical friend. Take a moment to ponder, for the justice we intended to deliver no longer applies."

Caius hissed in surprise at his words.

"Peace, brother," Aro cautioned soothingly.

This should have been good news—these were the words we'd been hoping for, the reprieve we'd never really thought possible. Aro had listened to the truth. Aro had admitted that the law had not been broken.

Edward's back muscles tightened.

"Will you introduce me to your daughter?" Aro asked Edward again.

Caius was not the only one who hissed at this new revelation. Edward nodded reluctantly. And yet, Renesmee had won over so many others.

Aro always seemed the leader of the ancients. If he were on her side, could the others act against us?

Aro still gripped Edward's hand, and he now answered a question that the rest of we had not heard.

"I think a compromise on this one point is certainly acceptable, under the circumstance. We will meet in the middle."

Aro released his hand. Edward turned back toward us, and Aro joined him, throwing one arm casually over Edward's shoulder like they were the best of friends—all the while maintaining contact with Edward's skin. They began to cross the field back to our side.

The entire guard fell into step behind them. Aro raised a hand negligently without looking at them.

"Hold, my dear ones. Truly, they mean us no harm if we are peaceable."

The guard reacted to this more openly than before, with snarls and hisses of protest, but held their position. The shield clinging closer to Aro than ever whimpered in anxiety.

"Master," she whispered.

"Don't fret, my love," he responded. "All is well."

"Perhaps you should bring a few members of your guard with us," Edward suggested. "It will make them more comfortable."

Aro nodded as if this was a wise observation he should have thought of himself.

He snapped his fingers twice. "Felix, Demetri."

The two vampires were at his side simultaneously, looking precisely the same as the first time I'd seen them. The five of them stopped in the middle of the snowy field.

"Bella," Edward called. "Bring Renesmee... and a few friends."

Bella took a deep breath. He couldn't be serious, tight? The idea of taking Renesmee into the centre of the conflict. But she trusted Edward. He would know if Aro was planning any sinister at this point.

Aro had three protectors on his side of the summit, so she would bring two with her. She decided to take Jacob and Emmett with her.

It took me only a second to decide. Emmett was dying to go beside her while Jacob wouldn't be able to bear being left behind. Plus, if I went with them, they would find out about my powers and me being the maxima. Who knew what would Aro and his Volturi do?

Both nodded and Emmett grinned.

Bella crossed the field with them flanking her. She heard another rumble from the guard

as they saw my choices they did not trust the wolves. Aro lifted his hand, waving away their protest again.

"Interesting company you keep," Demetri murmured to Edward.

Edward didn't respond, but a low growl slipped through Jacob's teeth.

We stopped a few yards from Aro. Edward ducked under Aro's arm and quickly joined us, taking my hand.

For a moment we faced each other in silence. Then Felix greeted her in a low aside.

"Hello again, Bella." He grinned cockily while still tracking Jacob's every twitch with his peripheral vision.

"Hey, Felix," Bella said.

Felix chuckled. "You look good. Immortality suits you."

"Thanks so much."

"You're welcome. It's too bad . . ."

He let his comment trail off into silence.

"Yes, too bad, isn't it?" she murmured.

Felix winked and I let out a soft snarl. I remembered seeing him killing Bree.

Felix marched forward to the newborn and, with his enormous strength, easily tore Bree from limb to limb. Her scream quickly ceased, though the metallic screeching sound continued. My heart ached as I watched Bree die. Felix picked up the limbs and threw them into the flames.

Aro paid no attention to their exchange. He leaned his head to one side, fascinated.

"I hear her strange heart," he murmured, his voice almost musical.

"I smell her strange scent." Then his hazy eyes shifted to Bella. "In truth, young Bella, immortality does become you most extraordinarily," he said. "It is as if you were designed for this life."

She nodded once in acknowledgement of his flattery.

"You liked my gift?" he asked.

"It's beautiful and very, very generous of you," she replied. "Thank you. I probably should have sent a note."

Aro laughed delightedly. "It's just a little something I had lying around. I thought it might complement your new face, and so it does."

A little hiss from the centre of the Volturi line. It seemed Jane wasn't happy about the fact that Aro had given Bella a present.

Aro cleared his throat to reclaim my attention. "May I greet your daughter, lovely Bella?" he asked sweetly.

Knowing her, Bella would just want to take Renesmee and run for it. But then they would kill them. Instead, she walked two slow steps forward. Aro's face beamed.

"But she's exquisite," he murmured. "So like you and Edward." And then louder, "Hello, Renesmee."

Renesmee looked at her mother quickly and Bella nodded.

"Hello, Aro," she answered formally in her high, ringing voice.

Aro's eyes were bemused.

"What is it?" Caius hissed from behind. He seemed infuriated by the need to ask.

"Half mortal, half immortal," Aro announced to him and the rest of the guard without turning his enthralled gaze from Renesmee. "Conceived so, and carried by this newborn while she was still human."

"Impossible," Caius scoffed.

"Do you think they've fooled me, then, brother?" Aro's expression was greatly amused, but Caius flinched. "Is the heartbeat you hear a trickery as well?"

Caius scowled, looking as chagrined as if Aro's gentle questions had been blows.

"Calmly and carefully, brother," Aro cautioned, still smiling at Renesmee. "I know well how you love your justice, but there is no justice in acting against this unique little one for her parentage. And so much to learn, so much to learn! I know you don't have my enthusiasm for collecting histories, but be tolerant with me, brother, as I add a chapter that stuns me with its improbability.

"We came expecting only justice and the sadness of false friends, but look what we have gained instead! A new, bright knowledge of ourselves, our possibilities."

He held out his hand to Renesmee in invitation. But this was not what she wanted. She leaned away from Bella, stretching upward, to touch her fingertips to Aro's face.

Aro did not react with shock as almost everyone else had reacted to this performance from Renesmee. His smile widened, and he sighed in satisfaction.

"Brilliant," he whispered.

Renesmee relaxed back into my arms, her little face very serious.

Continue to 26. PROVEN

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isabellafoster13 · 1 year

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Chapter Twenty-Five: Relapse

WARNING: REFERENCES TO CHILD ABUSE AND AN EARLIER PANIC ATTACK! SELF HARM!

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Lucy sat on the couch, staring down at the coffee table, seemingly absentmindedly. She was unable to sleep, but that wasn't much of a surprise to her. She thought back to when she, Freed, and Midnight had returned to their quarters:

Lucy opened the door and made her way over to the bedroom that contained Rufus. As she passed by the coffee table, she glanced at the spot where she had left a note to her friend, letting him know where they had gone. When she saw that it was gone, she guessed that Rufus had seen it. She knocked on the bedroom door, waiting for him to answer. She heard a muffled "come in" and turned around, motioning to Freed and Midnight that she was going to be right back.

She slowly opened the door and peered inside, finding that Rufus was dressed in his sleeping clothes and sitting on his bed. He was leaning forward, his hands covering his face. When Lucy entered the room and softly closed the door, he straightened his posture and looked up at her.

Lucy walked toward him slowly, not wanting to accidentally startle him. When she came to a stop beside him, she asked, "are you alright?"

Rufus sighed, "yes, I am now. I apologize for my behavior."

Lucy shook her head, insisting, "no, no, you have nothing to apologize for. It's understandable that you wanted to be alone for a bit. That game was intense and scary for all of us, especially you."

Rufus patted the spot beside him and Lucy accepted the offer, sitting right next to him. She reached into her pocket and she asked, "do you remember that conversation we had about rock, paper, scissors having a strategy?"

"I do."

Lucy held up her newest key. She smiled as she informed him, "I played it against some den owner named Bou and got this."

Rufus took the key into his hands and looked it over before he asked, "you used one of the strategies to win?"

"Well, I used both. I didn't win though. The game ended in a tie."

Rufus handed the key back to her, asking, "what was the tiebreaker?"

Lucy turned the silver key around in her hands as she answered, "I rolled a die and he had to guess what color the pips were." She gave him a smile as she added, "I guess you helped me. I don't think I would have done so well if you hadn't told me about that rock, paper, scissors study."

Rufus chuckled, "yes, I suppose I did."

Several moments of silence followed. Lucy rubbed the key in her hands with her bandaged fingers. She sighed and stood up, turning around to offer her hand as she asked, "want to see me summon my new spirit?"

She watched as Rufus stared at her hand for a few seconds before he took her hand and let her lead him out of the bedroom. Lucy walked to the front of the main room and raised her new key, but stopped before she spoke.

"Is something wrong?" Freed asked from where he sat.

Lucy nodded, answering, "I need to summon Loke first."

She requiped Loke's key into her hand and announced, "Open! Gate of the Lion: Loke!"

In an instant, Loke stood in front of her. He took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it, greeting her, "your knight in shining armor is here, Princess."

Lucy rolled her eyes and took back her hand before she raised her new key for Loke to see. A smile appeared on her face as she waited for him to take notice of whose key it was. She watched as Loke took a closer look at the key's bow, a joyous grin breaking onto his face. He wrapped his arms around Lucy, cheering, "it's about time you got his key!" He then pulled away and commanded, "come on, Lucy! Summon him!"

Lucy chuckled and did as he asked, "I connect to the World of Celestial Spirits! Heed my call and pass through the gate! Open! Gate of the Little Lion: Leo Minor!"

Loke watched with wide eyes full of excitement as the new spirit appeared before them. The celestial spirit appeared to be a teenage boy with tawny-colored hair that was similar in style to Loke's, the only difference being that his hair was longer and pulled into a low ponytail. He was dressed in black pants, a white t-shirt, and a black, leather jacket. Covering his eyes was a pair of black sunglasses. Leo Minor took off his sunglasses and placed them on top of his head as he looked Lucy up and down, a smirk on his face. He looked like a younger version of Loke.

He took Lucy's hand and pulled her toward him, wrapping his other arm around her to press her body against his. He flirted, "my, my, you really are incredibly beautiful. I can't believe my brother has been hogging you all to himself."

Lucy rolled her eyes as she deadpanned, "great, another Loke." Just as she was about to push him away, Loke took hold of her waist and pulled her out of the grasp of his younger brother. He smiled as he growled at him, "watch it, Leo Minor."

Leo Minor chuckled and responded, "why, Leo? She's my princess too now." He then peered past his older brother and winked at Lucy, causing her to roll her eyes again.

The celestial wizard grabbed Loke's arm and pulled him back, saying, "you two can do this later, I have a contract to make."

She then took a step closer to Leo Minor, asking him, "I guess you'd like to make a contract with me?"

The younger Leo nodded, "of course! I'd be crazy to turn down the chance to work with such a beautiful lady."

"Great. What days can I summon you?"

"Any day you desire, Princess."

"What can you do?"

Leo Minor raised a fist and Lucy watched as a sphere of black magic energy formed around it as he answered her question, "it's called Leonis. It's like my brother's Regulus, but a variant of Darkness Magic rather than a variant of Light Magic."

Lucy peered closer at the spherical, black magic energy, remarking, "that's pretty cool." She leaned away and continued, "I'm glad to have you joining my family, Leo Minor."

Lucy sighed, a smile tugging at her lips. She then yawned and stretched her arms above her head. A dull stab of pain shot through the mostly healed scars on her wrists. She gave a small wince and rubbed the underside of one of her wrists. She scars hadn't completely healed, but, for the most part, they were already scarring.

When was the last time she harmed herself? It was before her capture, wasn't it? Since she left on this mission, she's had the urge to harm herself again, but never gave in. She supposed that was a good thing, a victory, as she knew Loke would call it. It didn't feel like a victory, though.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard one of the bedroom doors open and close. She pulled her sleeves further down, making sure that the scars were covered, and looked over to see that Midnight was standing beside the opposite side of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest.

He asked her, "why are you up?"

Lucy shrugged as she answered, "couldn't sleep. Why are you up?"

Midnight sighed and sat down on the other end of the couch, answering, "I couldn't sleep either."

Lucy watched him, noticing faint bags under his eyes. She asked, "don't you fall asleep easily? It's not like you to have trouble sleeping."

Midnight glanced at her before he looked back at the door that sat ahead of him. He muttered, "I can't sleep because I'm here."

"Why is that?" Lucy understood not liking being here, but she wasn't sure why someone who loved sleep like Midnight would be unable to sleep, especially since he had made it clear to them that they were safe in their quarters.

Midnight glanced at her, slight surprise on his face. She guessed that he hadn't meant for her to hear that. The former criminal then answered, "it's nothing."

Lucy didn't miss the slight waiver in his voice. She could tell that it wasn't "nothing." She moved closer to him before she inquired, "are you sure it's nothing?" She laid her hand on his knee, adding, "you're my friend. You can tell me anything."

She stared at the man next to her, watching as he turned his head away from her, not looking at her. She felt her heart twist. Why wasn't he looking at her? Was he mad at her for something? She couldn't think of anything that would have made him angry. As she thought over the events of the past few days that led up to this moment, she suddenly remembered what had happened on the train. Midnight had panicked over something and ran onto the platform at the back of the train car for some air.

Worry clutched her heart as she moved her hand to rest on his shoulder. Her brow furrowed and she murmured, "Midnight?"

The man didn't look at her. Instead, he simply muttered, "Brain liked to bring come here." There was a tense pause before Midnight continued, "he brought me often. He wasn't very nice."

It didn't take long for Lucy to catch on to what he was trying to get across. She pulled away from him, pressing her hand against her mouth. The thought of Midnight facing the brunt of his adoptive father's anger brought tears to her brown eyes. Her stomach turned and she reached her hands toward her friend, wanting to comfort him, but not knowing how to. Her hands quickly retracted back to rest against her body.

She opened her mouth to attempt at offering words of comfort, but wasn't able to because Midnight abruptly stood, keeping his head turned away from her. He said stiffly, "I need some air." He then swiftly exited the room, leaving Lucy on the couch.

She looked down at her hands that lay in her lap. She thought back to when Midnight mentioned that he used to come here with Brain. How could she have missed that? Brain was terrible to Midnight and the rest of the former Oracion Seis members. It only made sense that Midnight would have unhappy, terrible even, memories connected to this place. Tears burned her eyes and she attempted to blink away the slight pain, causing teardrops to roll down her cheeks.

She should have guessed that Midnight would have a problem with being here. His panic on the train was a clear sign that la Cour de Velours wasn't a good place for him. She silently cursed at herself. A voice in her head echoed to her that she should have put the pieces together sooner and done something before this moment, that she should have stopped thinking about herself and the Celestial Spirit World, and thought about her friends who were accompanying her.

This only proved to herself that she was selfish. She leaned forward and buried her face in her hands. She was a terrible friend. Midnight was forced to return to a source of fear and unhappiness, and Rufus had just suffered a near-death experience. And it was because of her. She failed to notice Midnight's distress and she allowed Rufus to take her place. Was something going to happen to Freed too? Was the bad feeling that she's been having since they got here telling her that something bad was going to happen to Freed?

A sob slipped past her lips. She covered her mouth, not wanting to wake the other two men. She had taken on this mission to help her celestial spirit friends, and yet, she wasn't able to help the friends who were helping her collect keys. What kind of friend was she?

Was this why Midnight didn't look at her and seemed to be more distant than usual while they were here? Did he share her thoughts and blame her for having to come back here? Was he angry at her? She couldn't blame him, honestly, she understood why he would blame her.

Lucy pulled her hands away from her face, her teary eyes moving to her scarred wrists, which were covered by her sleeves. The urge to slice her skin as punishment for her failure to be a good friend grew stronger with each passing second, no matter how much she tried to push it down. She didn't know how long she sat there on the couch, staring at her covered wrists as tears flowed from her eyes and down her face, but, eventually, she stood up and moved to the bedroom that she shared with Freed.

She crept past his sleeping form in the closest bed and moved to the small bag that sat atop a table. The bag was hers and it contained her sleeping clothes and bandages for her fingernail-less fingers. She reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a sharp object that she had managed to sneak into the bag without Virgo's knowledge.

She silently made her way back into the main room, closing the door gently, careful to not make any noise. She sat back down on the couch and stared at the razor blade in her hand, faintly stained with the blood of past acts of harm. She swallowed, an attempt to ease her dry mouth. She hesitated, questioning if she was really going to do this again. The menacing voice in her head urged her to do it, telling her that she deserved the pain and marks for not doing better to protect her friends. For not catching on to Midnight's unpleasant past with la Cour de Velours and for not being more forceful in making Rufus recant his decision to play Russian Roulette. The voice told her that if something happened to Freed, then she would be at fault for it too.

Unable to resist the urge to slice her scarred skin, she rolled up her sleeves and grimaced at the sight of the fresh scarring. She first went for her right wrist, sliding the sharp blade along her skin several times, watching as blood beaded from the cuts and rolled down her arm, just like the tears that she had just shed and was minutes away from shedding again. She moved to her left wrist, repeating the action that she had just inflicted upon her first wrist. When she was finished, she held her arms outward, wrists facing upward, being careful to not get blood on the couch.

Lucy watched as her blood slowly flowed in thin streams. Fresh tears raced down her cheeks. She was weak, pathetic, and a bad friend. She deserved this pain that stung her wrists. She didn't deserve such great friends, a great guild, or fun and kind spirits. The voice in her head told her these things and more, repeating them until she believed the voice's words.

#fairy tail #lucy heartfilia #freed justine #rufus lore #midnight #macbeth #loke #leo #leo minor #ocs #mainly just lucy and midnight #self harm #mentions of child abuse and panic attacks #chapter twenty five #multi chapter story #angst

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catkin-morgs-kookaburralover · 10 months

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how and why are there so many kids in the Glade?? the organisation and structure suggests a lot of kids, but one of them said he'd been there two years and was one of the longest there. one appears every month. there are only about 25 or so after him. why do you have a council of twelve if there are only like. thirty or so even if we assume there are more. these numbers aren't numbering

#the maze runner #i have read the first twenty-five chapters so far

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thesweetnessofspring · 5 days

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Roses and Pearls by HalfHope (thesweetnessofspring)

Rated: E

Description: Peeta Mellark is the sole victor of the Quarter Quell. With District 12 nothing but ash, he rebuilds his life by moving to the Capitol and falling in love with Rosalia Snow, granddaughter to Coriolanus Snow.

Then people Peeta thought long dead kidnap him and Rosalia, including the one person he hates more than anyone: Katniss Everdeen. They say he's been hijacked. They say that he used to love her. Locked away in District 13, Peeta is determined to protect his mind and his fiancée from the rebels. But while imprisoned, videos disprove his memories and his feelings toward Katniss grow confusing. Who can he trust, and what really happened in his past?

Thank you @louezem for being my beta for this smutty chapter.

Chapter One | Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Katniss tugs my head to meet hers in another kiss, a seal of a promise to take down the Capitol. I’m more aware than ever of the cameras here in my old house in Victors Village recording us, of the creative team and Gale watching us. That everything I just shared about Rosalia will no longer be private. This moment on camera will never be ours, even if it feels as authentic as it can be. We’re giving this piece of us to the rebellion, hopefully correcting whatever damage I’ve done in the past six years.

“Good place to wrap,” Cressida says when we’ve pulled away and Katniss has her head under my chin. “We’re going to change tones now, go for a more domestic look into you two.”

And the vision for this propo becomes clear when supplies come out of their packs for dinner. We’re given fresh vegetables, dried plums and even lamb. And of course, flour and yeast. All of this very costly for the rebellion, especially after the bombings. Cressida describes how she wants us cooking together, encouraging touches and kisses and jokes. My hand on Katniss’s hip, her brushing flour off my cheek (that had been put on there purposefully). While the whole crew and Gale eat the stew, it’s only Katniss and I in the shot, holding hands even as we eat.

Afterwards, Cressida puts us back on the couch with the afternoon sun directly slanting into the room. This time Katniss is snuggled into my side, her feet tucked underneath her.

“What is it that you hope for in your future together?” Cressida asks.

continue reading on ao3

#everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #roses and pearls #rap update #roses and pearls chapter twenty-five

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next-autopsy · 1 month

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A/N: Well, hi there! Damn, it has been awhile, how have y’all been? I hope y’all enjoy this chapter, I have more chapter to come so stay tuned

Based on the actors portrayal/hbo show and written with no disrespect to the real life veterans. Also all images found on Pinterest.

TW: I think none...

Tags: @malarkgirlypop, @panzershrike-pretz

Made of Glass

Chapter twenty five: A Sleepover

Nixon snored peacefully in the spare room of the house Winters was billited to, while Birdie and Joe stood nearby waiting like kids in trouble.

Winters had taken his drunk friend off of the woman and with Liebgott’s help, tossed him there to sleep off the alcohol. He rummaged around for a blanket and once found, lay it over Lewis.

“Good thinking, bringing him here.” Winters commended Birdie, she beamed at him, happy to receive any sort of compliment from her favourite lieutenant. Meanwhile, Joe kept silent, watching the interaction between the two with curiosity.

“Thank you, sir.” Bernadette smiled at him, following him out of the room and downstairs with Liebgott trailing behind.

“You remembered they are away visiting relatives.” Again, he praised her and Birdie smiled up at him, cheeks tinting pink.

“Yes, sir.” Winters nodded at her response. “I wouldn’t have brought him here otherwise.” As she spoke, Richard gave a small smile, seemingly impressed with the young lady.

“You’ll take my bed, I'll get you some clothes to sleep in.” Richard spoke to the girl, he led the two into the kitchen, “Liebgott?”

“Yes, sir?” Joe tensed, fearing a scolding from the redhead.

“You’re on the couch.” Clear and simple. No reprimands.

“Yes, sir.” He had no arguments, sleep sounded amazing right now.

“Sir? Shouldn’t we head back to the barracks?” Birdie reached out to touch Richard's forearm, gaining his attention before he marched off to find them spare clothes. Winters stopped his action to look at her.

“It’s far too late for that, Birdie.” Dick spoke softly to her, using her nickname, something that shocked Joe. He could only watch the two talking and listen in, “By the time you two get back, you’ll have less than an hour to sleep before you need to get up. Just stay here the night, I'll make breakfast for you and you can head over with me.” He wasn’t exactly leaving room for discussion. Birdie nodded and Richard left.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he'd make us stay.” Bernadette took a tentative step closer to Joe.

“Don’t worry about it.” He spoke quickly and wouldn't make eye contact so Birdie assumed he was upset with the situation.

“Are you-” She began to question his odd behaviour but was interrupted.

“Here.” Winters was back and handed over two piles of spare clothes to the two soldiers in his temporary kitchen.

“Thank you, sir.” They spoke in tandem.

“Living room is through there.” Dick pointed to the door behind Liebgott, who nodded and walked in that direction. Winters turned to Birdie and gestured to the staircase, she nodded and headed that way.

“On the left.” Dick told her, she turned left and entered the room, revealing a simple bedroom with drawers, a single bed and a little window covered by light blue curtains.

“Where will you sleep?” She eyed him, he only smiled and shook his head. A gesture that made her think of her father, sudden melancholy washed over her. She missed him dearly, even though they exchanged letters often. She saw her father in Richard, little movements or facial expressions, sometimes his tone of voice.

“I’ll be fine, Birdie.” His words were soft, “Bathroom’s down the hall to the right, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” She fiddled with the fabric in her hands, waiting for Dick to say more or leave. He turned and took a single step, then froze and faced her once more.

“What were you doing out so late?” Richard questioned, not judgmentally simply curious or slightly concerned for the young lady he had grown so fond of.

“We were…. I-I….” She sighed, “Dancing….” Birdie stuttered, keeping her voice and head low. It really did feel like she was speaking to her father and she couldn’t shake the notion that he was disappointed in her, it made her shrink back and cringe.

“Birdie….” Richard paused, “I care about you. I don't want to see you dismissed because of-...” He let out a deep sigh, “You understand fraternizing is against the rules?” That got her attention. Her head shot up, eyes wide as she gaped at him,

“Oh! We- It wasn't like that!”

“Sure. But you understand, right?” He had to be certain she was aware of the consequences and how serious the punishment would be for her.

“I understand, sir. Nothing happened.” Bernadette gave in, sighing. Richard felt bad, he hadn’t meant to upset her, but he wouldn't allow her to get this far only to be sent home in disgrace because of some boy.

“Good. Sleep well.”

—----------------------------

“Liebgott.”

“Jesus! Sir, you scared me.”

“Here.” Richard passed over a pillow and a blanket, which Joe accepted happily, now wearing the lieutenants spare clothes.

“Thank you, sir.” Joe spoke, stepping to the couch to set up his sleeping space. Richard stood and watched him, studying his movements, it gave Liebgott chills and made him feel like he had done something very wrong.

“Was there something else, sir?” He wanted to fidget with something but knew the lieutenant observing him would notice so he refrained. Richard kept quiet for a moment, his eyes squinted at the man, then like nothing happened, he shook his head, spoke a soft ‘No’ and left.

Joe tried to shrug off the behaviour but couldn’t help the ideas forming in his head. He lay on the surprisingly comfortable couch and stared up at the ceiling, brain occupied with Birdie and Winters strange responses. He kept switching between thoughts of dancing with the beautiful girl and then the look of… was it disappointment? Displeasure? Anger? He couldn’t tell, Winters was a hard man to read.

—--------------------------

Breakfast was an uncomfortable ordeal. Richard had woken his three guests in the otherwise empty house, though Nixon told him to ‘fuck off’ and kept sleeping. Birdie spent ages in the bathroom primping, she tried her hardest to brush through her hair with her fingers so she was somewhat presentable.

Downstairs, Dick toasted bread and boiled water and Liebgott sat at the dining table, waiting. The quiet between them was palpable. Joe considered sneaking off and never returning but before he could make a move, Winters placed plates on the table with a clatter and sat in the seat across from him. The only thing Joe could do was wait while the lieutenant stared at him from the otherside of the table.

“So… dancing.” Richard was the first to break the silence.

“Sir?” He was confused by Dick’s words, was that a question? And why did Joe feel like he was about to be told off?

“Last night… Birdie told me you two… danced.” The places he decided to pause gave the sentence a very different meaning, one that had Joe blushing.

“Uh… Yes, sir.”

“Hmm…” A brief pause, “Birdie- Corporal Coldwell has worked very hard to get where she is. Harder than any man, harder than me…. Harder than you.” Winters told him, his face was stoic and stern. Liebgott shuffled his feet under the table. He should've left last night when he was alone in the living room.

“Yes, sir. She has.” Joe agreed, she had proved herself time and time again and it wouldn't stop there, she’d have to continue proving she was of value to every man she met while serving as a paratrooper.

“I would hate to see her throw all her hard work away, wouldn’t you?” Dick raised his eyebrow to make sure Joe understood the underlying meaning of the early morning chat.

He did. “Yes, sir.” He had understood the redhead loud and clear and now he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

“Morning!” Birdie chirped, appearing round the corner. She skipped to the table with two sets of eyes on her.

“Good morning.” Dick replied, watching as she sat and picked a piece of toast, smothering it in marmalade and chomping at it. After she had taken her food, the two men began to consume theirs.

“Morning.” Joe mumbled. The trio took turns looking at each other while they chewed and sipped.

“I’m heading back to base at 0700.” Richard checked his watch, making sure they were still on track to make it there in time. Luckily it was a Sunday, which meant late morning starts as most people were hungover or at the Sunday service put on for those wanting to worship. Birdie was usually one of those people, raised a devout Catholic, she was yet to miss a Sunday service.

Today might be that day. Winters saw the look on her face and read her mind. “You’ll make the service. I’ll make sure of it.” She nodded at the man, trusting he had a plan.

Liebgott found himself observing the pair yet again, intrigued and confused by the dynamic. At first glance, the Corporal and the Lieutenant looked at each other like they were in love, absolutely smitten. Birdie’s eyes shimmered everytime she glanced at the redhead and he couldn’t help but smile at her even though he typically dawned a stoic expression. There was something between them, Joe was sure of it.

The more Liebgott watched, the more he noticed. The pair shared small touches, a hand on the arm, a gentle pat on the back, even a brush of their knees.

Something in the back of Joe’s mind yelled everytime Birdie smiled at Richard and begged him to speak up when Richard showed any affection back. He just wanted to know, for certain, how Birdie felt about the other man at the table. The previous night they spent together, dancing, talking and laughing had made him realize his feelings towards the Mississippi woman, and he had started to believe she may reciprocate. He was hooked on everything about her, her charm and wit was only the beginning.

But now, he questioned that. Joe had truly thought she was leaning in to meet him halfway, before their almost first kiss was interrupted. Seeing how she acted toward Winters was unsettling, he hadn't realized they were that close and he didn’t like it.

“I’ll go get Nix up.” Dick told the young lady, smiling at her warmly then left her at the table to finish her breakfast.

“So… How did you sleep?” The woman spoke out to him, her morning voice was somewhat groggy and strained but her interest was genuine.

“Fine.” Joe really tried to keep his upset to himself, it wasn’t his business if Coldwell was in love with Winters. They were friends, he reminded himself. New friends, so he had no say in who she liked or talked to.

“Joey… are you okay?” Birdie paused, “You seem… quiet.”

Joe found that he didn't like that nickname anymore. When she first suggested it, he had feigned a hatred for the title: Joey, but hearing it from her had him reeling. It was all he wanted her to call him for the rest of their lives. He thought he would never tire of it. Joey. Yes he was pleased last night when she bestowed the cutesy name upon him but now…. Now he wanted it to stop. His stomach churned at the sound and he toyed with the idea of asking her to stop it.

“You go to service every Sunday?” It was his attempt at changing the subject, ignoring the twist in his belly and the hot feeling that crept up him when he thought of her and Winters.

“I sure try.” Birdie knew he was avoiding but she decided to let him… for now. She would not forget this moment and most definitely be finding some time alone with him, properly alone, to discuss it.

“Hmm.” Deep in thought he continued with his breakfast, his mind kept wandering to Winters. The man was an officer for Christ's sake, he couldn’t compete with that. He was well respected, calm and compassionate, all great qualities and essentially the opposite of Joe. He tried to find a flaw, something he could zone in on and hate but he just couldn’t. He liked Richard Winters and was starting to see the compatibility between the officer and Bernadette.

“You can eat on the way.” The two men from upstairs, trotted into the kitchen. After seeing Nixon so out of sorts the previous night, it was a surprise to both Joe and Birdie to see the man fully dressed and clean shaven standing in front of them like he hadn't just been severely drunk several hours before.

“Morning all.” Nixon spoke, turning to give Dick a concealed look once he noticed which two soldiers were sitting at the table. He didn’t exactly remember the night's events but Richard had told him he was brought here by two second platooners and now seeing their faces, flashes of meeting up with the couple on an empty road replayed in his head.

Nixon couldn’t help but smirk. Someone owed him twenty dollars.

A/N: Tell me what you think and expected another chapter shortly

~ Nex ~

Chapter twenty six: Half an explanation

#band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #joe liebgott #richard winters #lewis nixon #made of glass #band of brothers fanfic #fem oc #oc #next autopsy #made of glass chapter twenty five

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