#army airborne girl

[diablo1776]

1 shot tannerite pumpkin at 80 yards with the AR10 / .308

[evolvearoundmyworld]

Peaceful asf up there 😩

-3rd Jumper 🪂

[narwal-ed-in]

ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)

✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.

Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”

Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.

Borders by @plutism

BEFORE TACCOA

The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.

For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.

"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.

"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"

"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"

When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.

This is going to be so much fun.

"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"

Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).

You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.

The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.

The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.

It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.

"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"

After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.

"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"

CONNECTING WITH EASY

You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.

You show up randomly in the middle of the day.

Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.

You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.

"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"

You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.

It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.

Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.

But some of the guys had other ideas.

George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.

You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.

On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.

You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.

Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.

Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.

But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.

What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.

Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.

Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.

"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"

"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"

Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.

"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.

"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.

Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.

Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.

They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.

You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.

And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.

"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"

Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.

He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.

"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously

Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.

"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"

The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.

Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.

He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.

Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.

He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.

"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.

"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"

"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.

"How the fu-"

"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"

"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.

Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"

Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".

Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.

But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.

You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.

You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.

Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.

"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.

You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"What was it you were telling the others?"

You gasped "You really want to know?"

"I guess…"

Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.

Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.

By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 42 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Fucking hell im sobbing, this is it, the last chapter! Thank you everyone for sticking along with me you are all amazing! I'm so sad this is finished, I feel kinda lost without Em and Don. I'm so sad but also wow I wrote and finished a whole story that's impressive for me. LOVE YOU ALL!!!

For the last time ever, this is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, @b00ks1ut, @mstiemountainhop, @awaterfalls, @lovememadly92, @lucyfromtheoldhouse, @blueberry-ovaries, @next-autopsy, @saintmalosunsets, @anaso12 anyone else please let me know.

Time stood still for a split second before the clock ticked forward again. I stood exactly where I had left, my items I had dropped when I was struggling to free myself from the shimmer still laid perfectly where they had landed many months ago. 

I whipped around but all that greeted me was the dark street. 

No shimmer. 

No Don. 

It was as if I was on autopilot, I gathered my belongings into my arms and made my way back to my apartment. I fumbled with my keys before slotting them into the lock and twisting open the door. 

I placed my keys down on the bench with the rest of my belongings before trudging to the bathroom. There in the mirror stood a girl I hardly recognised. 

Her hair was windswept and unkempt, her face was blotchy and red, she wore an army uniform from the 40’s. 

She was out of place and lost. 

Shedding my clothes I stepped into the shower. Unlike before I was more aware of the damage on my skin. Cuts and bruises scattered my arms and legs. Scars and faded injuries covered me from head to toe. The last time I was in this shower I had been a different person. 

I washed myself until my skin turned red from the heat of the water and the scrubbing from my hands. 

Walking to my room, I slumped down in my bed and shut my eyes wishing to never wake again. 

—------------------------------------

The months flew by, I did my best to heal what was broken. I had promised myself that when I retired I would live life to the fullest, if not for me, for Don. 

I threw myself back into my studies, working hard towards my degree. It seemed to be the only thing that could distract me. I also went to therapy, I didn’t speak about the war I had lived through, it would’ve been too hard to explain, also maybe slightly crazy. 

We spoke mostly about the attack that had happened the night before I had left, it impacted me in more ways than I thought, it had closed me off to everyone again. 

My therapist encouraged me to form more bonds and have people in my life who I could trust. But it felt wrong trying to find people to fill the void of the ones I had left behind. So I kept to myself. 

I had tried my hardest to forget and move forward, I didn’t want to linger on the what if’s but the urge was too strong. I would spend weeks in the library scouring World War II books and reports, trying to find the names of the men I had lost. 

But the odd thing was that there was always a 101st Airborne, always an Easy company, but never the names of the men I had served with. 

They appeared to take the same course of action, the events that happened to us, had happened to them. But the men pictured and named were not my Easy men. 

It drove me to the point of insanity. I rushed home and dug all of the things I had brought back with me from the back of my closet. Just to ensure that it had happened, that I didn’t just imagine it all. 

Sitting on the floor surrounded by the items I had stowed away. My uniform, medic bag and phone all were proof that it was real. 

The medic bag sat unopened. I hadn’t been through it at all since I had arrived back. I sat gnawing on my lip, did I open it or not? 

“Fuck it.” I muttered, leaning forward and unbuckling the clasps that held it shut. I pulled it closer, sitting the bag on my lap. 

My fingers brushed over an unfamiliar material, I thought I knew exactly what I had brought back but this felt different. I hastily dragged the item from the bag. 

A gasp left my lips and tears almost immediately streaked down my face. My thumb brushed over the metal, Donald G. Malarkey. It was his dog tag. He had somehow snuck it into my bag and didn’t tell me. 

I could feel rough metal on the other side of the smooth metal. I flipped it over to find, ‘My Love, forever’. The words had been scratched into the back of the tag, Don had done it. I knew his hand writing anywhere. 

Clutching the thin piece of metal to my chest I rocked myself back and forward as I sobbed. It was the closest I was ever going to feel to him ever again. The thought that he wore this so close to his heart for all the time we had been together made me cry even harder. 

I upturned the bag letting the contents spill onto the floor, I rummaged through the belongings like a mad woman. 

Was there anything else he had put in?  

A paper I didn’t recognise was hidden under bandages, I hastily pushed everything else aside grabbing the paper as if it was going to disappear.  

I shook as I stroked my fingers along the unopened parchment that had been folded in half. His scrawly handwriting grace the blank paper. 

‘To Em.’

A shaky breath left my lips as I slowly unfolded the letter. My heart smashed against my ribcage but it felt nice to feel again, even if it was just pain. I had been so numb on autopilot. I couldn’t wait anymore, I needed to know what he had written. 

 My beloved Em,

I don’t know when you are reading this, but I hope that you are well. Know that I miss you dearly, and that I think of you always. 

I write this now after you had left to go and say your goodbyes. 

It took me a while to understand, but I do now. I know you inside and out, I know you as kind and gentle. You only want to share your love and happiness. 

You made the brave decision to give up everything so that we might have a chance to live and be free. You have made a sacrifice I never think I could do, and for that I admire you dearly, Em. You’re so courageous, your heart is unshakable. 

That is why I love you. Your soul is pure and good. I love your being and essence and everything that makes you, you. 

I love the way your curls fall into your face when you laugh, and the way your eyes crinkle at the sides when you smile. I will miss the sound of your melodic voice, and soft lips. I’ll miss the way you tell stories and the hugs you give. I miss you even now, when I know you’re only mere metres away. 

There will not be a day that will go by that you won’t be on my mind. Sleeping or awake you will forever be at the forefront of my thoughts. When I am sad, happy, excited, depressed, lonely, or content I wish to only share my thoughts with you. I will never not talk about you, your name will forever be on my lips.   

I hope you have found my small gift, and that you hold it close to your heart and think of me. 

Know that I am well Em. 

I am content with your decision. I will live for you. 

I hope you do the same, I hope you reach all of your dreams. 

There’s a quote I love, “missing someone is your heart’s way of telling you that you love them.” 

I miss you more than life itself, so I’ll love you for infinity. May my love for you reach you in your time now and you feel me wrapping myself around you now. I wish I had a photo of you, it scares me that I might forget your face. 

But the men and I will keep you alive in our memories, I will share every story I have of you. I will go home and tell everyone that I was going to be wed to the most beautiful girl in the land but she made a decision that let us be here today, and in turn she couldn’t stay.  

Please Em, my only wish is for you to be happy. Surround yourself with people who love you like we loved you. I need to know that you are being loved and cared for.

I don’t want to finish this letter, I wish I could write you pages and pages and fill them with the love I have for you, but alas there are not enough words in the universe that could perfectly summarise my feelings for you. But I will leave you with this poem.

I will love you as long as the sun burns in the sky,

As long as the moon shines its light into the dark night, 

Until the raging blue oceans become calm and run dry. 

I will love you until the end of time. 

With all my love, I hope to find you again. I will wait for you in every lifetime. 

Donald Malarkey, your one true love now and forever. 

The sobs that left my mouth were short and sharp as I struggled to intake air. My tears landed on the paper as I clutched it to my chest. I had read the words over and over again, I could hear his voice in the writing. 

After my sobs had subsided I continued to search through the contents of the bag. A flash of metal caught my attention. A dry chuckle left my throat, Speirs’ lighter lay amongst my belongings. His initials were carved into the metal, it didn’t come with a note, but the act alone was heartbreaking. It was Ron’s trusty lighter, one that he didn’t part with easily, but still he had slipped it into my bag for me to have to remember him by. 

I woke up the next morning on the floor of my room surrounded by memories. I slipped Don’s tag around my neck and tucked it into my shirt. Just when I was losing faith they had given me the motivation to live again. 

So I did just that. I opened myself up again, I graduated and started a new job as a full time nurse. I did as they had asked and surrounded myself with people who loved and cared for me. But no one could ever take Don’s place, that part of my heart was tightly locked which he only had the key to. 

A year passed and the hurt lessened. Never did they leave my thoughts, the amount of times I went to share stories only to bite my tongue. But I wrote them all down in my diary to ensure that the memories I had of them were never forgotten. 

—--------------------------------

“Hey Em, patient in room 12 is wanting to speak to you.” Izzy, the nurse I had befriended when I had started, peered her head into the nurses office. 

“Sure.” I smiled brightly at her, getting up from the notes I was finishing. I made my way to the room, assisting the patient to unhook from the fluids they were getting so that they could go to the toilet. 

“Em!” I heard from behind me. I sat the patient back down on their bed as we had made our way back from the bathroom. 

“Yeah?” I turned to see an excitable Izzy. 

“The girls and I were going to go out for dinner tonight. Come!” It was a Friday for the group and  everyone seemed to be very thrilled for the weekend. 

“Um…” I teasingly thought about the offer. The brunette didn’t let me think long, rushing into the room to slap me on the shoulder. 

“You’re coming!” She tugged gently at my arm. 

“Says who?” I wound her up more. I had befriended her as she had reminded me of George. She was bright and funny, always with a big smile on her face. We had both started at the same time and bonded over being ‘new and dumb’, we joked. It was easy to make friends with her, it was as if they had known each other in a past life. 

“Emily Lane!” She full named me, causing me to giggle. 

“Shall I pick you up?” I asked as I sauntered away. 

“AHHHH!” Izzy squealed in delight, running after me to pounce on my back. “We are going to have so much fun!” 

I never picked up Izzy, she had followed me home. Demanding we got ready together. I watched her dance around the room singing into the hairbrush she had found lying around. She looked insane having half of her eye makeup on as she sung poorly into the makeshift microphone. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Izzy bowed to the non-existent crowd taking in her applause. 

We finished our makeup, mucking around wasting time we didn’t have doing a fashion show, which was basically Izzy prancing around like an idiot and me curled over in hysterics. 

“If you keep going not only are we going to be so late, my makeup is going to be ruined!” I chucked a pillow from the couch at her head. 

Finally we made it to dinner only ten minutes late. We shared good food and stories around the table. I smiled, glancing around the table at the people who were in my life. Don would’ve been proud of me. 

Izzy squeezed my hand from under the table as she lent her head on my shoulder. “I have a surprise and you can’t say no.” 

I pretended to be mad at her but the smile stuck to my lips as she fluttered her eyelashes at me. 

“What is it?” I asked, a huge grin broke onto her face. 

“Karaoke!” She cheered as did the rest of the table. “You have to come, I’ve invited some of my friends too.” Izzy elbowed me in the side. 

The older nurses with children and earlier bedtimes left, leaving the younger nurses with more energy to do karaoke. Izzy’s friends slowly trickled in joining us in our fun night out. All of them were lovely and so funny. I wiped the tears that leaked from my eyes as Izzy and Lyla sang a duet together, they were so off pitch but that didn’t stop them. 

They plonked down next to me out of breath. “Your turn!” The girls pushed me from my seat. I looked back into the crowd and they smiled excitedly up at me. I picked a random song.  

Stay by Rihanna played out from the speakers. I sang along as the group cheered and whooped. I didn’t care if I sounded bad. I sang loudly as I waved my hand in the air. 

The room door swung open and I lost my words. There in the doorway was a face that I couldn't forget. 

“SING!!” Lyla cheered. But I couldn’t, nothing worked, my mouth hung open and tears filled my eyes. 

I watched Izzy jump up from her seat and dragged the person into the room. 

“Em!” She ran towards me with the person in tow. “This is my friend, Don.” 

It was him, head to toe, he looked exactly like my Don. 

“Pleased to meet you, Izzy has told me a lot about you.” The man stuck out his hand for me to shake but I was still so frazzled. His voice was exactly the same. I blinked, pinching my leg to make sure I wasn’t in some weird dream. 

“Are you alright, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” The modern Don tilted his head in concern. 

“I’m fine.” I uttered out in shock, I politely shook his hand, almost melting at his touch. It was the same. Had he come back to me? 

“Have we met before? You just seem familiar.” He asked. Izzy stood between us as we stared at with a confused look on her face. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” She departed the conversation, leaving us staring at each other with our hands still connected.   

“Do you want to come to the bar with me? It's a bit loud here.” He asked, never taking his hand from mine. I nodded, my mouth still hung open. 

We left the small karaoke room we occupied and made our way back over to the main bar. 

“So do we know each other?” Don asked again. 

“No we don’t.” I shook my head. 

“Well I want to change that.” His smile grew wide as he stepped closer to me. “I don’t know why but you feel important.” 

And at the moment I knew everything was going to be ok. 

Because he had found me again.

Just like he had promised. 

---------------------------------------------------

THE END!

[softspeirs]

on leave

A/N: Obviously this goes without saying that there's almost no historical basis for this interaction to happen, except that there's a brief window of time in the late summer of 1943 where Easy and The 100th could have interacted... but that's why I love fanfiction. Thanks to @basilone for enabling me. Meet my BoB OC Kat Gray. You can learn more about her in Barren Soul. No pairing for this fic except a hint at something if you take a cue from Bucky Egan.

"You know, it's nice that the Airborne finally decided to show up." Bucky says, tilting his head and gesturing with his glass.

They've been back from Africa for two days, and the brass decided everyone could do with some leave. They've got a few days in London while the new replacements arrive, and it seems that half the units in the US Army had the same idea.

This pub in particular is packed with soldiers, airmen, and civilians alike.

Next to him, Cleven and DeMarco share an aggrieved look.

"What?"

"Can you just--" Gale straightens his jacket, leans in, "--try not to start a fight? For once?"

"Don't count on it." Bucky grins.

A roar from the corner of the room grabs their attention, and they shift on their barstools to watch how the game of darts is getting on. There's a new addition to the roster, Bucky notices.

"You're a cheat!" A man says, and the woman in question raises her eyebrows.

"When have you ever known me to be dishonest?"

"The last time you gave me stitches and told me it wouldn't hurt."

She rolls her eyes. "That was an accident, and you're too sensitive, Luz."

"Interesting." DeMarco says under his breath. "You ever heard of a woman in the paratroops?"

Buck smirks. "What, you haven't read the papers? Experimental unit."

"Any girl who can jump out of a plane is alright in my book." Bucky says, as he takes another gulp of his drink, "Probably a little crazy, but alright."

They interrupted by a First Lieutenant who looks like he's already had a few, but all the same, he squeezes in on the other side of Benny, signaling the bartender. "Majors, Captain." He says, two fingers at his temple in half-hearted salute.

"You with the Airborne?" Bucky asks, louder to be heard over the band.

"101st."

"100th Bomb Group." Buck says, holding out his hand to shake. "Gale Cleven. This is Major John Egan and Captain Benny DeMarco."

"Lewis Nixon." The man says, a few pints set down in front of him by the bartender. Nixon looks up in thanks and then turns back to the men in front of him. "100th Bomb Group... you're flying B-17s, right?" He whistles. "I wouldn't know what to do with a plane like that."

"Jump out of it, probably." Bucky says.

"Nix--" a female voice interrupts them, "Need a hand?"

The woman in front of them is brunette, her hair tightly pinned and tucked beneath a garrison cap. Bucky instantly straightens, grin firmly in place.

"I wouldn't." Nixon mutters, giving Bucky a look out of the corner of his eye. Turning to the woman, his face softens a fraction. "This is Corporal Kathryn Gray."

Introductions are made, and Bucky can't help himself. "What's a girl like you doing with an outfit like this?"

Her eyes narrow, and he gets the feeling he's put his foot in it, though he was just trying to be funny.

"A girl like me?" She asks, her tone neutral, but that steel look in her eyes. "What am I like?"

"Christ." Nixon mutters, running his free hand over his face.

"What?" Gray asks. "Just making conversation."

"Just starting trouble, more like."

"Funny," Buck says. "We just had a similar conversation. He elbows Bucky in the ribs.

"All good over here?" Another Lieutenant appears, this one shorter, eyes hard. His reddish hair and sharp jaw make him stand out among the rest of the group, but Bucky's not stupid enough not to notice the way they're all glancing over to the bar, prepared to close ranks if needed.

He holds his hands up. "Just fine, Lieutenant--"

"Welsh."

Benny interrupts, ever the peacemaker. "Gray, what line of work you in? We were reading about the women paratroops in the paper the other morning."

She turns to Benny with a smile, and Bucky frowns. He had asked the same question! Well, he asked it his way, and Benny has that unassuming way of talking. Even though they're both from the Midwest, somehow Bucky just doesn't come off as disarming as his friend from Chicago.

"Medic," she says proudly.

"Tough job." Buck says quietly, though his lips are quirked to show he means no harm. "What made you go that route?"

"Dad's a doctor. And I wanted to help." She says simply.

"Kat!" A loud voice bellows from across the room.

"Duty calls." She says dryly. "Majors. Captain." She looks back at her own Lieutenants. "Sirs." She says, but it sounds sarcastic. Bucky blinks in surprise at her tone.

Welsh and Nixon both grumble and roll their eyes, neither of them making any move to admonish her.

"She sure made that sound like an insult." DeMarco says.

"Word to the wise, in case you ever find yourself with a woman in your unit-- and you will, soon enough--" Nixon says, "She'll call you by your rank, but don't for a second think that means she takes you seriously or will listen to anything you say."

"And it's useless to try." Welsh says, and holds up his glass for Nixon to cheers.

"Sounds like my kind of girl," Bucky agrees under his breath, and gets another sideways glance from Nixon before he makes his excuses and heads off with Welsh, the both of them greeted with cheers, slaps on the back, and sounds of approval from their guys.

"He was right--" Buck says. "I wouldn't."

Bucky frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Over there." Buck tilts his head in the direction of the opposite corner of the room. At a table with one other man, there's another Airborne Lieutenant. Dark hair, darker eyes, and he's tracking Corporal Gray as she moves in the room.

"Huh." Bucky settles back into his seat, elbow on the bar behind him.

Buck turns around, chuckling when Bucky curses under his breath. "Better luck next time, Romeo."

Bucky watches as Kat Gray as she flits between her men, an easy smile on her face. They nudge her and crack jokes, and all bravado aside, he can see why she fits right in. These guys clearly care about her, and she about them.

She shows it with a quick touch to one mans arm as she leans behind him to talk to someone else, as she winks at another guy who rolls his eyes and nudges her in the arm as he claims the seat on her right.

A half hour later, they're getting ready to clear out when Bucky sees her approach, an armful of empty glasses in tow. She sets them on the bar on the other side of him, and nods her thanks when he takes the last few from her hands.

"How long left on your leave, Major?"

"Just one more day. Then it's wheels up." He says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Good luck." She says simply. "I can't imagine what it's like up there."

Bucky feels the smile slipping off his face, but he does his best to try to keep it up. He doesn't want to think about flying right now. He doesn't want to think about Curt, or Buck flying in on no engines, none of it.

"You take care on the ground and I'll do my best in the air, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

He can't help it, he laughs. At her confusion, he grins. "I have it on good authority that when you say sir, what you really mean is--"

"Don't finish that sentence," Buck says, amused. "Corporal. Have a nice night. Good luck."

"You two, Majors." She says, and then she's off, a Sergeant and Nixon waiting at the door for her.

He sees the Screaming Eagle on her arm as she goes, and he shakes his head. "Lady medic."

"You're gonna need a medic if you don't get to bed soon." Buck mutters. "Let's go."

[casuallivi]

i'm not worthy of your sacrifice

For the lovely @soyzaweels for providing us with that amazing rescue art. I'm always craving some good cradling and hands thank you for being a gift to this fam ��� (I was typing this yesterday, struck with inspo from your art, and only when i hit "post" i noticed my internet connection was gone… and so was my post 🥲 now i sit here making my second try)

and for Elriel Month 2023. Prompt 6: A Bridge Between Souls @elriel-month

🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇

She’s slowing him.

They both are; Elain and the rescued Child of the Blessed whose name she’s yet to know.

She looks down below at the nefarious enemy camp where she can still see the beasts snarling closer to edge of the hill, chills raising up her arms, the throbbing pain on her foot reminding her of how close one of them came to ripping her limbs apart. The powerful beating of his wings takes them away from the horrible camp fast –her sister doing her best to stable her own appendages– but the piece of land where Prythian's army has stake base is yet to surface in the horizon. 

Elain knows he’s barely holding it together. She can hear it in the heaving of his chest, in the quiet grunt escaping from his lips as he adjusts their weight in his arms, can feel the weak burst of power he tries to direct at his wings, can see it in his wounds bleeding into her filthy nightgown. Deep gashes cut his back and wings; the membrane so lacerated she wondered how he was able to fly such distance. How painful it must be.

Out of nowhere, they fall a couple feet, hair ricocheting in front of her eyes. The girl lets out blood-curling screaming. Without even looking at her, Elain tightens her hold on the girl the best she can, watching the sickly paling of his face, cold sweat sliding down his brow. She looks down again. Her throat bobs at the height, nervousness making her tense. It's a nasty fall till she hits the ground, but Elain figures she'll survive. She's immortal now, isn't she? A fall won't kill her. But if she doesn't lower the weight in his arms, he might not make it back to camp.

In the end, it's not really that hard of a decision to make.

Her finger unclasp from the girl's dress, Elain ready to unloop her arms from around his neck.

"Don't." The low command ripples through her body, stopping her.

Bloodshot eyes dart to hers for the thousandth of a second, heavy with lethal determination. Don't you dare let go, they say.

Cobalt light engulfs the three of them, Azriel working harder to keep them airborne.

Azriel's power give out on the outskirts of their camp, still, he manages to land on his feet, arms steeling around her as he staggered a little. Feyre has it worse, tumbling several times on the hard ground, removing large patches of lawn with her.

“I’m okay!” She gives them a thumbs up, spitting grass.

Elain would laugh was she not so worried about Azriel wincing as he tried, and fail, to tuck his shredded wings behind him, the bone bent awkwardly on the left one, dark red blood mingled with the lighter tone of the membranes.

Azriel bent his knees and relaxed the arm securing the Child of the Blessed, allowing the trembling girl to slip to the ground, who quickly stepped away from them, the scent of her fear thick in the air. Elain prepared to follow her.

Her feet never touched the ground, because Azriel straightened again, his free arm coming under the curve of her knees, holding her up to his chest, limping forward. Elain flexes her chained wrists, grazing his wings in her attempt to hold on to his stiff shoulders.

"I can walk."

Azriel can barely detect her voice. Elain might as well be one of his shadows with that soothing tone, trying to placate him as they have been doing since the moment he noticed she was gone.

"I know."

Their whispers are not enough. Not today.

Azriel has no memory of deciding to go in the heart of Hybern camp because it wasn't a choice. The realization is somehow disturbing for a male who's accustomed to be rational about every aspect of his life. He needs to hold her, to feel her, to make sure she’s actually there, safe and unharmed in his arms. Even now, as he holds her, there is an unsettling quietude inside of him, odd anguish clouding his judgment.

As if she can feel his anxiety, Elain buries her face on his chest, repeating the words of her sister. “I’m okay.”

Elain doesn't know how to calm Azriel. She can only hope that her presence does to him, what his does to her.

Her chains glow in a violet shade where they rest against his leathers. Shadows swirl, sliding angrily between the cuffs and her skin, trying to slip them away.

The next thing she knows, Nesta is yelling, tackling Feyre down amidst her tears, and Rhysand is separating them, gently setting her back on her feet.

“We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet

Her world stops spinning.

Elain stares and stares at him.

The man that promised to marry her, to spend his life beside her, to love her no matter what, has abandoned her at the first minor inconvenience, yet, this strange fae man, who rapidly turned into an essential part of her life, came for her. Risked his life for a chance to try to save her. Even now he worries for her, who is in perfect condition, more than he worries for himself, who is hurt and bleeding.

A little bud of hope sprouts in the pit of despair that has become her heart.

Elain roses on her toes and kisses Azriel’s cheek.

For the first time since she emerged from the dark waters of the cauldron, Elain feels lucid.

For the first time since she emerged from the dark waters of the cauldron, Elain feels awake.

For the first time since she emerged from the dark waters of the cauldron, Elain feels like there’s a life to be lived even if she’s no longer human.

🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇🌸🦇

One of the things I like the most about the rescue scene, is that we tend to forget that Az was carrying both Briar and Elain! But once they set foot on the ground Briar is walking alongside Feyre, but Az did not let go of Elain. I see you shadowboy. I.see.you....

[mercurygray]

I know you said you were feeling your MotA girls, but maybe #28 turn the page for Molly and Rosie, please. Only if you're feeling it. Thank you!

The last time he'd been here, he'd been bombing the place.

Nuremberg certainly looked different from the ground, though the sight of so many crumbling houses and rubble strewn streets wasn't enough to change how Rosie felt about anything he'd done for the last three years. War was war and war was hell, and that was all there was to say about that. They were at the end of it now, and they would move forward.

The address he'd been sent to find was a still-standing warehouse - something of a marvel in this city filled with ruins. A soldier outside nodded in greeting, and he instinctively opened his wallet to show his pass, the official ID card they'd given him for the Palace of Justice.

"I'm looking for Sergeant Mahoney. I was told I'd be able to get a tour."

The soldier nodded him inside, and in he went, facing down huge racks of crates that seemed to go on for miles.

A woman was standing next to a desk, clipboard in hand. She was wearing a very beat-up field jacket and what looked to be jump trousers, her pockets baggy with extra equipment. Rosie suddenly wished he'd brought his bomber jacket, and not the wool overcoat that made him look like - well, a lawyer. (At least he'd left the briefcase back at the hotel.)

"Are you Sergeant Mahoney?"

She looked up from the clipboard. "I was told I might expect a Major Rosenthal this morning. Are you him?"

Rosie wished again for the jacket. "It's just Mister, actually, Sergeant. I officially got out of the army a few months ago."

What she thought about that he really couldn't tell - she was studying him with a long and patient look. "They told me you were a pilot - a rather good one."

Rosie tried to bite back a smile about what counted as 'rather good' after 52 combat missions and a list of awards so long even he couldn't remember what they all were. "It has been said."

That was what made her smile. "Most pilots wouldn't let you forget that."

He shrugged and smiled. "I'm not most pilots, Sergeant."

She nodded. "Well, Major. What would you like to see? I have a wide variety of Europe's finest all at your disposal. What's your fancy? Landscapes? Pastorals? Portraits? Sculpture? A favorite artist I can find for you?"

It sounded overwhelming, less like a museum and more like the private tour he wasn't sure he wanted. He couldn't say, exactly, what had brought him here, but it wasn't that - the mindless acquisition. "I didn't come to see anything in particular. Just mentioned I wanted to get out of the office for a bit and they sent me here. Show me ...show me your favorite, Sergeant."

She looked at him for a moment before giving half a smile. "All right."

"So how does a museum curator find herself in Europe?" He asked, trying to be collegial as she walked him down a long aisle, boots echoing in the half-dark.

"Not a curator," she corrected. "I'm an archeologist. I had a brother at Pearl. Joined the WAC after…you know." She turned to look at him, hardly breaking a long stride. "How does a lawyer get into the business of flying airplanes?"

"He decides he doesn't like bullies. How does an archeologist decide she wants to jump out of them?" He pointed to the patch on her jacket, the Airborne patch she still hadn't removed from her shoulder. "Screaming Eagles is a paratrooper outfit, isn't it?"

Another smile - a real one, this time. "She decides she doesn't like bullies either. And the pay's pretty good. After we got all the way to Germany they decided they could use someone like me and I stayed on here." She checked the number on the end of a shelf, counted in a few boxes, and removed a frame from the shelf, pulling it down and setting it onto the floor. "Well. Here we are, Major. This is my favorite."

The painting in question was a portrait, done in a plain, workaday style - a simple head-up view of a woman with a reddish cast to her hair, wearing a black dress and a string of pearls. The pearls gleamed from the canvas, easily the most noticeable thing about the piece. Rosie wasn't much of an art critic but nothing about this was ringing any bells. "Anyone I should know?

"Nope. Artist is unknown," Mahoney said with a vague smile. "I don't know what her name is, either. I've been calling her Ruth, after a friend of mine. We've got all sorts in this warehouse - Rembrandts and silver that belonged to the Rothschilds. And we have a hell of a lot of this - bits of people's lives that they'll never get back. She's not important on her own - but she's...she's someone's wife, or sister, or aunt. She's important to someone. There's a note on the back about the framer - that'll give me a town to start in. Maybe I can get her home." She gave a long hard look at the painting, her gaze thoughtful. "I spent…eighteen months taking away lives, and now I get to give them back."

And isn't that why I'm here, too, he thought silently. A warehouse full of treasures, and she shows me this. Most curators wouldn't let you forget what they've got.

But she's not a curator. "Sergeant, are you free this evening?" He asked suddenly. She looked up. "I'd like to take you to dinner, if I may."

She let out a surprised laugh. "I'm not sure that would be regulation, sir. Sergeants can't be seen out to dinner with Majors."

"We could start with you dropping the Major and calling me Rosie."

Another smile - wider this time, like she was turning a page on something, letting it come into full view. "Oh, so you're that Rosenthal." The way she said it made him smile - she'd known the whole time, and was just stringing him along to test him. The desire for dinner increased.

"I did say I wasn't like the other pilots," he offered with a shrug. "Should we say...six o'clock? I promise I'll do a better job of blending in."

'Not too good a job," she said with a smile that charmed him entirely. "I'm not sure I can be seen out with a pilot, either."

-

Molly Mahoney joins us from The Darkening Sky where she is a paratrooper, an academic, a memoirist, and somehow usually always in the middle of an argument about ethics.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Should've Been Born Later, Nix - Chapter 6: The Plan

Easy Company x Fem!OCs

Chap. Synopsis: What will happen when the group forms a plan to get some answers?

Words: 3,677

Find the fic's navigation page here !!

Have a question/want to be on the taglist? Let me know !!

A playlist to go with the chapter!

Author's Note: WHAT IS UP MY DUDES IT'S TIME FOR CHAPTER SIX!!!! Be on the lookout for Chapter 7 dropping tomorrow night!! :D

“We’ll need a map, and equipment to pick locks and stuff,” Chrys answered Joe, hesitancy evident in her words. “I do have a lock-picking kit, but we might need other stuff to bypass the doors that have alarms on them.” The boys nodded along before Luz spoke up.

“Do you think the rest of the guys will go along with this?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t see any other option,” Malarkey barely finished his sentence before the group heard the apartment door unlocking. When the door opened, Zay stumbled through, pushed to the side by the disheveled frames of Roe and Guarnere. The men looked like they did after days in Bastogne - dirt caked into their skin, grass and leaves in their hair, clothes that were clean when they left now looking as if they're on their sixth week of wear. Speirs and Liebgott walked in after them. The soldiers had never seen the look of irritation on Speirs’ face - sure, they'd seen him aggravated or annoyed, but this expression seemed to be in a league of its own.

“What the fuck happened?” Luz asked the group, concern and bewilderment evident in his eyes.

“You don't want to know,” Liebgott muttered quietly as he sat down in the vacant armchair. Speirs immediately walked from the front door to the sliding glass that led to the apartment balcony, forcefully sliding the door closed behind him. Everyone stared out at the balcony frozen, until Zay spoke up.

“He’s just frustrated because these two almost got themselves hurt,” she explained, shooting a playful glare at the two unkempt paratroopers beside her.

“We got some good information though!” Guarnere replied proudly, placing a firm but friendly hand on Gene’s shoulder. The medic let out a quiet laugh and shook his head before Bull spoke up.

“So what’d y’all find out?” Zay reached into her backpack and pulled out what appeared to be a jacket with a camouflage pattern. It was sturdy - similar to the men’s army-issued jackets.

“We’re not quite sure if it’s useful, but it’s certainly interesting,” Zay explained as she showed the sleeves to the group. The men’s eyes widened when they saw the 101st airborne screaming eagles patch over the two chevrons that displayed the rank of corporal.

“Zay, you’re not gonna believe what we found out,” Chrys mused, eyes wide at the jacket. Chrys and her group regaled the newcomers with the rumors they read about, as well as the missing corporal.

“You don’t think that’s her jacket, do you?” Luz asked in disbelief.

“Well whose else would it be!?” Gonorrhea replied to the radioman… a bit more forcefully than he intended. There was a heavy pause before Dick broke the silence, looking at Zay with a pensive but nervous expression.

“We’re thinking about sneaking into Fort Liberty, see what we can find out,” Zay’s eyes widened behind her glasses.

“You can’t be serious…” the words fell from Zay’s lips with utter disbelief. “There’s no way… even if we wanted to… where would we even start?” The girl’s eyes darted around the group - every expression seemed to have glimpses of shock, fright, overwhelm, but also… focus and determination. If this was really the next step in their journey home, then they were going to do it right.

“We’d have to find some way to scope out the base beforehand, so we can understand how their security works,” Speirs’ voice delivered a jumpscare to the rest of the group, no one hearing him sneak back in from the balcony.

“And figure out how the base is laid out,” Nixon added.

“But the only way we can get on base is if we have a military ID,” Zay mentioned before Chrys spoke up.

“... not unless you’re a delivery driver.”

“Wait, so they’ll just let you on base if you’re a delivery driver?” Liebgott wondered aloud.

“Not exactly, you need to register your car and have a special ID card, but we can probably just look up how to do that on their website,” Zay replied before noticing the still-disheveled states of Roe and Guarnere. “Let me get y’all some fresh clothes and I’ll get my laptop and we can do some brainstorming.” Once Gene and Bill were taken care of, the twelve made a makeshift circle around the coffee table. Chrys kept her seat between Winters and Nixon, while Zay sat across from her sister on the floor, Eugene on her left and Guarnere on her right.

“Alright, so we need to figure out how to get on base, where we need to go, and what will stop us from getting there, right?” Malarkey listed out from his spot on the floor.

“We can get on base by registering as a delivery driver, and then once we’re on base we can figure out where everything is.” Chrys typed away on her laptop, making a checklist of what needed to be done.

“Right… what’s everything exactly?” Luz chimed in from his spot beside Toye.

“We could probably start with Colonel Gomez’s office, then from there we can see where he’s doing the experiments,” Speirs explained from his spot on the other side of Eugene. The group carried on like this until dark, forming their own version of the D-Day invasion, just with less planes and more… road trip playlists.

“Alright, let me see if I have everything here,” Chrys said. She made a few finishing keystrokes on her laptop before scrolling back up to the top of her list. Beside her, Lewis was in awe of the girl. Everything she did seemed to have an effortless air around it. It felt as though, at the snap of her fingers, Chrys could command the beer bottle beside her to bring itself to her lips of its own accord. Lewis would never admit to it, but her presence caused a level of butterflies to swell up in his stomach that he hadn't felt since he was in prep school. His eyes became fixated on her snakebite lip piercings - two black studs placed right below her lower lip. Lewis had never seen a piercing like this before, his mind started to wonder what it would be like to kiss her with those-

“Lew!” The man was shaken from his thoughts when Dick called his name. Nixon was broken from his trance and noticed the rest of the group staring at him expectedly, most notably Chrys. The dark-haired man took a beat before clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“Do you think you’d be able to help us decipher anything we find in Gomez’s office?” Zay asked from her spot on the floor.

“Well I’m not the intelligence officer because of my good looks!” Snickers could be heard around the room at Nixon’s comment before the conversation moved forward.

“So Zay and I will use the van from my garage and register it as a delivery car, then Nix, Speirs, and I will ‘deliver’ something to Colonel Gomez to find where his office is and scope out the place. Then from there, we can plan out how we want to do the second run,” Chrys explained to the group.

“Sounds good to me,” Winters piped up from his seat on the couch. His eyes kept finding their way to Zay, who could be seen whispering and laughing with Doc Roe beside her. Even when he felt a sting of envy seeing Eugene next to her, there was still a comforting warmth in his chest when he saw Zay scrunch her nose in laughter. Chrys noticed how Dick was looking at Zay and couldn’t help but smile. Chrys’ gaze abruptly moved to Guarnere when everyone heard his stomach growl, or rather, play the symphony of its people.

“Zay, why don’t you and I head to the kitchen and see if we have anything for dinner?” the dark-haired girl announced with a laugh before setting her laptop on the coffee table, stretching her arms over her head. Zay was quick to pop up and follow her twin into the kitchen, leaving Easy Company to their own devices, at least for a moment.

“I’m pretty sure we don’t have something that’ll feed everyone, do you wanna just order pizza tonight?” Zay asked nonchalantly as she looked in their fridge. Chrys simply leaned her back against the counter and let a snicker past her lips.

“You have no idea, do you?”

“... I mean I’m looking at our fridge right now and all we have is your veggie smoothies and my orange soda, ooh! And Peronis! When did we get these?” The nurse was in her own little world for a moment, pulling the cheap beer out of the fridge to share with everyone.

“I mean about Dick, don’t you see how he looks at you?” Zay turned around and met Chrys with furrowed brows, clearly confused.

“What do you mean?”

“He gives you the same heart eyes he does to Nixon in the first episode, when Nix is lighting his cigarette outside that tent.” Zay quickly shook her head before promptly setting the drinks on the counter and closing the fridge. She immediately pulled out her phone, desperate to focus on something else.

“You think they’d prefer Domino’s or Little Caesar’s?”

“Zay, I’m serious, I really think he likes you.” Chrys’ tone was quiet and serious, but gentle. Chrys was unsurprised at her twin’s avoidance of the subject - she knew Zay had a rough time in terms of relationships.

“Chrys he could have anyone he wants,” the girl said in a strikingly monotone voice - a stark contrast to her bubbly personality. She took a deep breath before continuing, “Besides, do you see how Nix looks at you?” Zay looked up from her phone, a smirk on her face. Before Chrys could finish her eye-roll, the two were shocked out of their skins as music came blaring unexpectedly from the living room. As Tainted Love filled every atom of air in the apartment, the twins scrambled into the living room to find Luz crouching in front of the entertainment stand, fumbling with the Bluetooth speaker as if it were a hot potato. Zay quickly knelt next to George and took his hands, turning the speaker so that she could reach the power button and turn the speaker off. The two sat like that for a second before Zay quickly pulled away, face bright red. She futilely prayed that Luz didn’t notice the rosy hue on her cheeks.

“I told you not to mess with that, dumbass!” Liebgott scolded Luz from his place on the floor.

“Great job, radioman,” Bull chimed in, chuckling as Luz bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. The poor man just wanted to see if he could figure out how to turn on the device to see what it was. While his mission was technically successful, George certainly did not intend to assault the eardrums of everyone in the tiny space.

“If y’all wanted a dance party, you could’ve just asked!” Zay said with a giggle. Most of the men shared in her laughter, while others felt their ears perk up at the idea of a dance party. “Why don’t we order some pizza and then I can show y’all how the speaker works?” Within the hour, the twins had educated the men from the 1940s on what toppings were available on their pizzas, as well as mediating the discussions for what was going on said pizzas. Now, all they could do was relax and wait for the delivery driver. Zay had started passing out the Peronis from the fridge (and a soda for Dick) when she heard her name.

“Zay, you said something about a dance party?” Nixon piped up from his seat, a mischievous smirk on his face. Her expression grew to match his as she pulled out her phone.

“Let me find a good playlist to show y’all the best music-”

“Zay I swear if it’s your Queen playlist…” Chrys interrupted, irritation in her eyes but a smile on her lips.

“Like, songs for the Queen of England?” Guarnere questioned the two - just when he thought 2023 could not get any more bizarre, now he knows the word “playlist” and is about to listen to music made for the queen of England. Zay simply laughed before returning to her phone.

“ONE song, then I’ll put on a playlist!” The blue-haired girl compromised with her sister before picking up the Bluetooth speaker. The boys were amazed when she seemed to only push a couple of buttons, and suddenly music was playing again from the speaker, and at a much more reasonable volume compared to earlier.

Toniiiiight, I’m gonna have mysellllf a real good time

I feel aliiiiiiiivvvvveeeee!

Zay was singing along to one of her favorite songs, she could not help but stand up and move along to the slow intro, waving her arms in big, dramatic motions to the lyrics. Everyone was laughing along with Zay’s hyperbolic display as she and her twin sang along with Freddie Mercury.

And the wooooorld, I’ll tuuuurn it inside ooouuut, yeah!

I’m floating arooooound in ecstacyyyy so

Don't- Stop me nooowww…

“Don’t! Stop me! Cuz I’m having a good time! Having a good time!” As the music crescendoed, so did Zay and her dancing. Even Chrys, moved by one of her favorite singers, got up and began dancing with Zay. The two moved like excited baby goats, hopping around the living room in time to Roger Taylor’s drumming. Some soldiers were getting into the vibes of the music with the twins, either dancing in their seats or trying to sing along, others were watching the girls with less than chivalrous eyes (Liebgott and Toye were the worst offenders), while Dick and Lewis simply watched in awe. Dick’s eyes were fixed on Zay, the way her hips were moving trapping the redhead in a trance that he would have been happy to stay in forever.

Lewis, on the other hand, could not decide where to focus his gaze on Chrys. From the smirk on her face, to her waist swirling side to side, to her legs moving in time with the music, to her arms wrapping themselves around Guarnere - wait… Nixon was brought back to reality when he saw the sergeant dancing with the black-haired girl, also noticing that the song had changed to something more… seductive.

Pour some sugar on me! In the name of love

Pour some sugar on me! C’mon fire me uuupp

Pour your sugar on me! I can’t get enouugh

I’m hot, sticky, sweeet, from my head to my feet

The intelligence officer felt a confounding mixture of emotions - absolutely enamored by Chrys and her movements to the music, uncomfortable with watching Guarnere’s movements to the music, jealous that Chrys was dancing with Guarnere… Nix just could not let this stand. “I’m going to Chrys, and I suggest you go to your little nurse before it’s too late,” Lewis muttered to Dick before he got up, gesturing to the girl in question as he made his way to the makeshift dance floor. Winters looked away and crossed his arms - yes, he wanted to spend time with Zay, but there were a few barriers at the moment Dick was wrestling with.

First, Dick does not dance. He will if he absolutely must, he can waltz… a bit, but for someone in peak physical condition, the officer has two left feet on the dance floor. Second, the tantalizing rhythms set forth by the music and Zay’s hypnotic movements caused Dick to feel a certain overwhelm that he has never felt before, and he was quite unsure how to handle it. He was sure, though, that if he tried to talk to Zay now, absolute gibberish would come out of his mouth. Third, Zay already had a dancing partner, and the Cajun man definitely knew how to dance. If the officer had not looked away, he would see that Eugene and Zay were dancing in perfect sync, as if they were the only two in the room.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys were in their own little worlds, either dancing in the goofiest way possible, like Luz trying to mess with Toye, or simply sitting back and taking in the music, like Ron and Bull, sporting amused expressions from their seats. The twelve were abruptly all pulled back to the same reality when the doorbell rang - the pizza had arrived!

Zay took the pizzas from the delivery man while Chrys brought out plates and napkins. The night continued with more shenanigans brought about by both the music as well as the Peronis, both Zay and Chrys absolutely delighted in sharing the music of their time with the soldiers.

When I was, a young boy, my father, took me into the city, to see a marching band…

As the intro to Welcome to the Black Parade played, Zay dramatically serenaded the group, her off-tune voice endearing her to the tipsy men. Zay, being rather inebriated herself, noticed Dick casually sitting by himself, enjoying the party going on around him. While the leader considered himself to be more of an introvert, seeing his men, who had been working and struggling so hard throughout the war, finally getting to relax and have fun warmed his heart more than he thought possible. Suddenly filled with confidence, Zay slowly strutted over to the redhead, making eye contact with him as she made her way to the couch. While Winters offered her a smile, everyone could see the hue on his cheeks that matched his hair.

He said will you, defeat them, your demons, and all the non-believers, the plans that they have maaaddee…

The lyrics being sung were not exactly sultry, but the look in Zay’s eyes had Dick feeling things that he had not felt since before the war. In that moment, it was as if Dick and Zay were the only two in the room. The nurse stopped right in front of the captain, bending over to look into his emerald eyes. Past her glasses, Winters could see the mischievous sparkle in Zay’s eyes, his brain going a million miles a minute. Was this really happening? If it was a dream, Dick silently prayed he would never wake up.

Because one day, I’ll leave you, a phantom, to lead you in the summer, to join the Black Parade…

Zay softly sang to Winters, trailing a finger lightly down his cheek, taking in his handsome features. She began to wonder the same question as him - is this real? As she looked into his eyes and their faces grew closer, inch by inch, the girl could not help but steal a glance at his lips before a resounding crash broke the two from their mutual trance.

“Hey, watch where the fuck you’re going!” Guarnere shouted at Liebgott before the two started throwing punches at each other. It was later revealed that Joe stumbled back and accidentally put his elbow into Bill’s pizza, which he was thoroughly enjoying. The two tumbled to the ground before the rest of the group dove in to break them apart, Zay and Chrys included. After a horrendous struggle, the group had the angry boys separated, Guarnere holding his hand to his eye and Liebgott tasting blood from his split lip. After figuring out what happened, a couple of extremely heartfelt apologies, and some first aid provided by Zay and Roe, everyone agreed that it was time for bed. Well… almost everyone.

A while after everyone had gone to bed, Chrys heard the sliding door open from her place on the wicker chair that lived on the apartment’s balcony. She turned her head to see none other than Captain Nixon poking his head outside.

“Do you mind some company?”

“Be my guest,” she replied nonchalantly, gesturing for Lewis to sit in the chair on the other side of the small glass table, still needing to be dusted from the pollen drop of the day. Nixon gave Chrys a nod of thanks before sitting and pulling out his Lucky Strikes and lighter. He stretched his arm out to offer Chrys a cigarette before lighting his own. The girl politely shook her head, silently cursing how the dark-haired man made smoking look so attractive.

“Isn't it past your bedtime, doll?” Nixon said around his cigarette, the scratch of the flint in his zippo echoing off the brick wall.

“If I didn't know you were a night owl I could say the same to you,” Chrys retorted, not noticing Nixon’s flirtatious tone. The twins may be opposites in many ways, but one thing that ties them together is their obliviousness to a boy’s romantic advances.

The intelligence officer let out a snicker and shook his head. “You think you know everything about me because you’ve seen me on a TV show?”

“Well I know the number of times Dick had to pour your own piss on you to wake you up is one too many,” the words left Chrys’ mouth with a smirk that left Lewis weak in the knees. He threw his head back in laughter before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“First you clean the dance floor with my ass, then you bring that shit up,” he mused to himself, remembering earlier in the night. When Nixon went up to cut in on Chrys and Guarnere dancing together, the movement Chrys’ body created almost felt supernatural. Lewis tried to keep up with her, but he kept staring at the girl and tripping over two left feet.

“What’s the matter, Yale boy? You can dish it but you can’t take it?”

The two night owls continued their banter well into the night, only retiring when the first birds of the morning began to chirp. Chrys and Zay passed in the hallway - Zay was dressed in her scrubs and on the way to work. The blue-haired girl sent a smile over to her twin, “You awake yet?”

“Awake? It’s time to go to bed!”

~~~~~

Chapter 5 | Chapter 7

Taglist: @b00ks1ut , @blueberry-ovaries , @bucky32557038ww2 , @claudycod , @dontirrigateme , @easycompany123 , @emilee1421 , @executethyself35 , @hanniewinnix , @ithinkabouttzu , @jump-wings , @love--persevering , @panzershrike-pretz , @stolen94 , @xxluckystrike

Thank you again for reading!! Be on the lookout for Chapter 7 dropping Tomorrow!! 🥰✨

[kilojulietsierra]

Porch Swing Angel - Eugene Roe x Louisiana!Nurse OFC

Sorry this took way longer to post than I intended, but here it is! Finally!! It's barely edited but hopefully y'all enjoy!

Eugene plays guitar in this one, he sings a song called "Hurricane" by Band of Heathens. It was def not out in the 40's but oh well.

~~~~~~

As soon as Spina emerged from behind the bar with the well worn guitar in his hand and a gleeful look on his face Roe began to regret the singular offhand comment he had made weeks before. He watched his friend wade his way through the crowd with the instrument and Roes face was passive, by no means as excited as Spina.

"Hey, Eugene! You said you could play right. Have a go!" Spina thrust the guitar towards him.

The motion was clumsy enough that Roe reached for it on reflex, concerned Spina would drop it, "Spina, I ain't gonna do that. Go give it back." He pointed back towards the overwhelmed bartender.

"Aw c'mon, he said it was fine!" Spina shoved the guitar at him again.

Roe caved this time and took it carefully, setting his beer down to settle it across his lap at an awkward angle where he sat at a crowded table. "I ain't that good." Even as he mumbled the words his fingers settled on the frets, getting a feel for the old six string. He tuned a string or two to avoid the thought of singing in front of the whole company.

Most the men were occupied in one way or another. If he was lucky maybe none of them would pay attention. Besides the fact that already the boys closest to him had turned to face him. Several egging him on along with Spina.

Caving under the pressure he began to pick senslessly at the strings.

He was rusty. He could feel it. The years of playing with his grandfather came back to him eventually and he got comfortable. A song came to mind and he played through the first few chords testing it out. Roe just played with it at first, lose interpretation of the only song he could come up with. When he looked up next half the pub was staring at him and he immediatly dropped his eyes to the floor.

After another round of persuassion, "C'mon Doc!", "Yeah Doc, sing us somethin'.", Eugene started the first few bars in earnest. Swallowing thickly and ignoring the crowd best he could he sang the beginning of a song that reminded him of Louisiana. Reminded him of home.

"Thirty miles out on the Gulf stream I hear the south wind moan The bridges gettin' lower the shrimp boats comin home"

~~~~~

Lily hadn't had to work too hard to convince the other girls to go to the pub with her. They all knew too well that the airborne had more than ran the regular army boys and brits out of the only pub in town. They all had their own motives, but Lily was mostly just happy for something to break the routine of rolling bandages and collecting dog tags of the boys that would never make it home.

There were only a handful of them tonight and at first they had been swarmed. The paratroopers just happy to see something in a skirt. To that point Lily had found herself trapped in a corner with two of her friends, being talked up by some young man whose jumpwings were as shiny as the day he got them. Which, based on her loose understanding, she would bet was less than a week or two ago.

She had long since stopped giving the poor kid her full attention, beyond accepting the beer he had brought over.

The pub was loud and so when the din suddenly died down and the strum of guitar chords broke the silence in its wake, the girls all turned towards the source but could not see who was playing.

At first Lily was ready to write it off but the strumming grew stronger, more sure of itself, and the tune sounded familiar. When the voice broke through the crowd she couldn't help begin to weave her way through the crowd.

The old man down in the quarter Slowly turns his head Takes a sip from his whiskey bottle And this is what he said

Making it to the source of the music Lily smiled and joined in on the chorus without thinking twice

I was born in the rain on the Pontchartrain Underneath the Lousiana moon

The man playing snapped his eyes up to hers as she joined him and together they continued to sing. Each of them a little more confident.

I don't mind the strain of a hurricane They come around every June

Lily smiled as she found her voice and held the gaze of the solemn, darkhaired paratrooper playing the guitar. The crowd had moved out of her way and she came to stand a short distance away from him as he played. She nodded encouragingly, gave a little winding motion with her hand telling him to play it up.

~~~~~

Eugene quit singing altogether at that point. Not wanting to diminish the girls beautiful voice. So, when she gave him a little signal to pick it up, he took her lead. He found he wasn't playing for the crowed anymore. He was playing for her.

The high blackwater, the devils daughter She's hard, she'd cold and she's mean But nobody taught her, it takes a lot of water To wash away New Orleans.

Her singing overtook him and he wasn't in that pub in England anymore. He was on his Grandmothers porch playing with his grandfather and his uncles on a summer night. He could feel the muggyness, hear the cicadas in the trees and smell the honeysuckle. When he closed his eyes, rocking back and forth as he played outright, he swore he could see lightening bugs behind his eyelids.

She sang like a girl raised on southern baptist choirs and bluegrass. Her voice was rich and strong, husky like maybe she smoked a little here and there. Soulful like she'd had her heart broken a time or two and broken a dozen more herself.

When he opened his eyes next he found her watching him from a few feet away, she held his gaze firm as she belted out the next chorus. Spared him a little smile as she swayed along, her foot stomping out the time. His cheeks were warm when he returned her smile and he had to look away. A vision crossed his mind as he picked and strummed and swayed in his seat. A vision of her perched on the wooden, porch rail behind him in a cotton dress, singing as they all played for her.

At one point, the last chorus, he met her eyes again as he stopped playing. Only tapping out the time against the body of the guitar. Letting her gorgeous voice fill the dead quiet pub all on it's own, every man and woman in the pub hung on her every word.

By the time he played the last few bars out for her, she had come to stand nearly in front of him. Her voice had dropped down to something soft and sweet and without missing a beat they let the music trail off on its own, holding eachothers eyes again until Eugene had to look away.

~~~~~

The crowded bar erupting into shouts and hollers snapped her out of the dream she had slipped into while she had been singing. Whistles and clapping echoed off the walls and suddenly she was a little shy as they all called out for another song.

Amongst the ruccus Lily squeezed her way to the table and carefully perched herself on the edge of it next to where the paratrooper sat with his arms crossed over top the guitar. He smiled when he looked up at her, it's shy and his teeth aren't showing, but his eyes are bright and she liked it. "What else can you play?" She leaned down closer to ask the question.

She was pleasantly caught of guard when a glimmer of something else broke through that shyness and he gave her a grin, "Darlin', if you keep singin' I'll play anything you want."

~~~~~

His response made her smile, with a laugh behind it and Eugene is proud of that. And for some time after that he played any song she asked for, thank God he knew them all, but they were all songs he grew up on and he was grateful for that. THey had made music together until there were couples dancing in a cleared off spot by the dartboard and drunken' soldiers were slurring the words along with them.

Eugene had to control the urge to tell them all to shut up. Let her sing.

She was enjoying herself and smiling wider the more she drank and the more she sang. Roe had lost track of the songs by the time she bowed out and said that was all she had for the night.

For a second he worried she'd disappear once she was done singing but instead she gave him a bright smile and slid off the table to take the empty chair beside him. "I'm Lily Beauchesne," she held out her hand. "My friends call me Beau. It's a little easier."

"Eugene Roe." Leaning the guitar against the wall behind him he took it and felt a wave of heat roll through him that had nothing to do with the overcrowded pub. "Your voice," He started as he let her hand go, "It sounds like home."

For the first time that night it was Lilys cheeks who flushed a pretty pink and she glanced away from him. Her tongue darting out to lick her lips before she reached for a beer and took a sip.

Emboldened by her reaction Gene turned to face her further, "Where you from Lily Beauchesne?"

Lily grinned, enjoying the way his accent colored her name just right and how he didn't stumble over the pronunciation one bit. "Louisiana, little town called Port Barre."

Eugene couldn't help but smile and shake his head. With a little chuckle at the look she gave him he met her eye, "I'm about 50 miles down the river from ya. Bayou Chene"

Her smile doubled in surpise, "You're joking!" She leaned in a little closer and fought back the butterflys in her stomach. "Are your people Cajun?" She asks in what passes for French in south Louisiana.

WIth a nod he responds to her in French as well, "Half. My mothers side."

It's like Lily can't stop smiling at that point. "Mine too! My French is not so good." She uses it though, happy to have something to share with this man she's just met.

That glimmer in his dark eyes comes back again as he tilts his head to look at her. This time he responds in English but his voice is lower, accent thicker, "Sounds real good to me."

Lily blushes again and Roe loves it. Want to keep her smiling and blushing and talking to him all night.

~~~~~

They spend the rest of the night together in their own little world. Sitting close together and talking just the two of them. The friends each of them came left to their own devices while Eugene and Lily got to know eachother. Their conversation flowed between their two languages, their accents blending together. Roe truly wanted to talk to her all night, he wanted more if he were honest with himself and that thought rang louder when Lily had picked his hand up off the table to hold it in her own.

Her tinier, softer fingers caresed his carefully even as she continued on in French, repeating an anectdote about a relative she'd received in her most recent letter from home.

Roe found it hard to concentrate. The sound of her sweet voice lulling him and his attention drawn to they way she had his hand held in her lap. Palm up with her gentle fingers tracing over the lines and creases, brushing over the caluses from working and fighting all this time.

She caught him not paying attention, pulling him back to her by saying his name, "Eugene…" and giving his hand a squeeze.

His eyes jumped back to hers, embarrassed except that her face was nothing but kind if a little teasing,. Every lecture he'd ever received on fratrenization policy spun around in his mind and one by one he tossed hiem aside the longer she smiled at him like that.

He wanted to kiss her. He was going to kiss her

But then Lipton was addressing the crowd. Roe had pulled his hand from her grip and felt the weigh of war settle back over him as the news came. They would be leaving.

When he turned back to her Lily was still smiling, but now it was soft and sad.

Before Eugene could come up with the words she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you again Eugene." She kissed him again, closer to his jaw this time before she added, "I'm sure of that."

As she pulled away from him Gene caught her gently, hookin a finger under her chin and pulling her back so he could kiss her properly. It was short and sweet, but it was a promise of more. "Until next time."

~~~~~

He wasn't sure if their parting words had been true, but he was certain they had both meant what they had said. Would they really see eachother again though? `

Eugene found himself thinking of her quite often. At night in his bunk, on the canvas seat of the plane as they headed for their jump into Holland, and most recently in the back of a frigid deuce and a half shaking and rattling its way towards the front.

When he had a spare moment to think of the pretty nurse from Louisiana it was almost always the same daydream. It was her on a porch swing on a warm summer evening, rocking back and forth in a simple cotton dress with her hair loose and long, just begging for his fingers to run through it. Sometimes he would imagine her singing his favorite songs or a hymm and even in his own mind her voice brought him peace. In these dreams she would smile at him as he walked up the steps to join her, or as he sat across from her picking out a song for her.

She kissed him in his daydreams. Long and sweet and loving and she would blush so pretty, giggling when he would whisper in her ear little things only for her to hear.

He was careful to stop his thoughts there. He'd slipped up a few times, on nights when he couldn't sleep, and thought of her tugging him to his feet and leading him to bed, or of picking her up in his arms and carrying her as she took her turn whispering in his ear until he laid her on top of the covers and took the words right out of her mouth.

Gene knew they did not know eachother well enough to allow himself those kinds of thoughts but God willing he wanted to.

An especially hard bump in the road dug the metal of the truck bed into his back and jerked him from his daydreams. It wasn't a warm, bayou summer, instead he felt the cold seep back into his bones and the darkness outside of the truck swallow him once again.

Dug into his foxholes he tried not to think of her, tried to focus on his job and making it through the next day. Instead, what he did allow himself was the hope that if he survived this frozen hell, he would see her again. That she would be waiting for him.

As much as he wanted to see Lily Beauchesne again, he never would have thought they would cross paths again when, where and how they did.

~~~~~

The jeep weaved its way through the wreckage and rubble of Bastogne and Roe was busy holding pressure on the bleeding leg wound of the soldier stretched out over the hood. The city, what was left of it, was in shambles and the church they were using for a makeshift aid station was little better.

Gene left the basement of the church sometime later, Sisk in capable hands, and with an armfull of fresh supplies. He flagged down a jeep and had just climbed into the passengar seat when something caught his attention.

A voice off to one side that tickled something in his mind. When he looked, as the jeep turned around and pointed back towards the cleared street, he heard it. A familiar voice with a familiear accent. Gene sat up straight and twisted around, not quite believing it was her until she looked up and their eyes met.

~~~~~

Lily had to fight the urge to wipe the blood on her trousers as she jogged across the street to meet the incoming jeep. Her frozen fingers immediatly jumping to the blood soaked bandage over the stump of a young soliders arm. WIthout a second thought she began barking orders and used all her muscle to help wrestle him off the jeep and onto a stretcher.

As they carried him inside something made her skin warm up and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She turned and searched her surroundings until her gaze fell on a retreating jeep. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Eugene, staring right back at her, the same look of shock on his face.

Unable to move she held his gaze. A flood of thoughts and emotions tore through her and she could not look away until the jeep was out of sight.

Eugene was alive. He knew she was here.

~~~~~

When they truly saw eachother for the first time they barely had a moment together but each of them was grateful for it.

Roe had made a point to find her the next time he brought a patient to the church. "What are ya doin' here?" Was not how he meant to speak to her the first time but it was what came out as he came to stand beside her. He liked her all the more when her response was to flash her angry, green eyes at him from where she knelt by a wounded man.

"I'm a nurse Eugene. I'm doin' my job." She stood up straight and had to fight back a wince at the stiff joints and sore muscles that harrassed her body. Lily was ready for a fight but that's not what she wanted.

He knew as soon as the words left his mouth that hadn't come out right, but he was glad she was the kind of woman to defend herself. With a deep breath Gene closed his eyes and started again, "I'm sorry, that's… that's not what I meant."

"That's how it sounded." There was no longer a bite to her words but she stood her ground all the same, "We're what's left of the hospital unit. Got cut off just like y'all."

Gene licked his lips and looked at his boots long and hard before he spoke, "I'm glad you're okay. I just didn't expect to see ya here is all."

Lily nodded, her posture relaxed, and silently accepted his apology. "I'm glad I got to see you."

Gene relaxed too and gave her a careful smile, "So am I."

"Doc!" The driver yelled from the door, "Let's go."

With a scowl Roe looks his way and then back to Lily. HIs fingers twitch. He wants to reach out to her, but doesnt.

She does though. Lily grabs for his hand and holds it in hers for a brief moment. She gives it a squeeze and offers him a sweet smile that nearly reaches her tired eyes. "Until next time. (French)"

"Doc!"

Gene glares towards the door again but gives Lily a flustered little smile before giving her hand a squeeze of his own and heading back towards the stairs.

~~~~~

The next time Roe is there he looks for her almost immediatly, but can't find her. He finally asks one of the other medics, "Hey, have you seen Lieutenant Beauchesne?"

The medic furrows his brow, sparing Eugene a glance while he worked, "Who?"

"A nurse, Lily Beauchesne, y'all might call her Beau. Accent, dark hair."

Finally the other man nods, even shares a sympathetic look with him which Gene didn't quite understand. "She's down on the end."

Roe looks but didn't see her at first. Not until he made it to the end of the church room and looks around. Where he finds Lily curled up on a low table, a makeshift bed, with a blanket over her. His heart drops at the sight of her. "Lily..."

She is balled up as tight as can be on the tabletop, the flimsy blanket obviously doing nothing to quell the tremors that rack her body as she shivers. Her face is pale and sweaty, her breathing raspy and her eyes sunken, hollow and closed tight against the pain. Lily doesn't aknowledge him until he takes a knee beside the table, to get to her level, and lays a careful hand on her.

"Lily... cher, look at me." Roe whispers to her without a second thought as he strokes her hair back from her clammy forhead.

Her eyes open and they struggled to focus. "Gene..." Another shiver overtakes her and she pulls her knees closer to her chest.

"Sweetheart, look at you." He continues to stroke her hair and moves his other hand to cradle the crown of her head, his touch sure but gentle. First brushing over her forhead, then gently tugging one eye open fully with his thumb grimacing at the size of her pupils, and finally stroking the tips of his fingers up her slender throat, the swelling under jaw plain as day. "How long you been like this?"

A wry smile fought its way through her grimace as she dodged his question, "I'll be fine."

His fingers traced the side of her neck once more before he settled his palm over her temple. "You're burnin' up." Roe looked her over and searched around for anything else to cover her better.

"Freezing." She corrects him.

"I know." He searched all around him and finds nothing for her. "You need some water?"

Lily shook her head as vigorously as she was able, "I'll just..." She shivered to the point she was unable to keep still, "I'll just toss it up again."

Suddenly a plan formed in his mind and he was glad to have it. He slid his hand down her arm under the blanket to look for an IV but found nothing. "Let me help."

He made to stand up but her trembling fingers clenched around the sleeve of his jacket. "We don't have anything." She tugged feebly, she wanted him back close to her. "Nothin' to spare." Her words cut off abruptly as she screwed her face up and blindly fumbled over the edge of the table.

Roe fumbled, but finally saw the bucket she was reaching for and holds it for her as she coughs and heaves. WIth his other hand he helped support her weight as she leant off the table and retches until her eyes are watering and her throat hurt. Once she's done he helps her lay back down and pulls her blanket back up to her chin. "Jus' be quiet and rest cher."

Her eyes are closed when she whimpers, "Stay. Just a minute."

WIthout hesitation he knelt down beside her again, his hands cradling her head and face as he leaned his forehead against hers, "I'm right here cher... I'm right here." He strokes his thumb back and forth over her filthy hair and occasionally smooths out the pained furrows in her brow.

WIthout really thinking about it he began to pray over her. He knew there was nothing to be done other than her to wait it out, wait for the fever to break and her stomach to settle. So, he prayed for her healing, for her strength and for her comfort. Prayed for her to sleep. Somewhere in the midst of his praying, still with their foreheads pressed together and his thumb caressing her temple over and over, he began to whisper to her.

"Couldn't believe when I saw you here, I'd thought about seein' you again so often and there you where."

She didn't say anything but she hums and seems to scoot a litle closer.

For a moment he was silent again while he prayed. "That first night, in the bar, I knew I'd fall in love with you. So pretty, so smart, voice of an angel."

Lily let out a whimper and her shivers overtake her for a moment.

Voice steady and calm, Eugene hushes her, "You'll be just fine cher, just go to sleep and let the fever run." He glanced down as her hand snuck out from under the blanket and wraps around his forearm. Gene even smiled briefly as her thumb stroked over his sleeve in time with his own.

Carefully, he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Rest for me, huh cher. Jus' rest for me."

He remained still and eventually felt her relax the slightest big, her face soft and she let out a little hum as she nodded off. Before he stood, Gene brushed a hand over her hair and prayed. "Let her sleep, Lord. Let her rest, and take this pain from her while she sleeps." He kept his hands on her head a moment longer before he dropped another soft kiss on her forehead and stood up straight. HIs chest ached as he looked over her one last time, gave her calf one last, comforting squeeze before he left her to rest.

~~~~~

The pain in his chest that day was nothing in comparison to the pain and dread he felt at the sight of the bombed out church. It's entrance little more than a pile of stone and debris. He nearly collapsed under the weight of a single thought. Lily had been here. Curled up on a hard table, sick and helpless. With a thick swallow he forced down the lump in his throat and turned back to the waiting jeep.

The bombs and explosions a dull echo as he retreated into himself. The world drown out around him to the point that he almost didn't hear it.

"Gene! Eugene!"

The shouts broke him out of his haze just in time for him to turn and see her. "Stop, stop. Stop the jeep." Roe didn't even wait for the driver to slam on the brakes before he had vaulted out of it and ran back down what was left of the street. He all but crashed into her as he wrapped her up in his arms and held her. Lifting her off the ground he hugged her so tight.

Lily didn't hesitate or shy away. No, she wrapped her arms around his neck and burried her face in it the best she could with both of them wearing the helmets.

"I thought you were gone." Gene murmured in her ear.

"I'm right here." She answered back, her voice thick with emotion.

An explosion rattled the whole block and Gene quickly set her down and covered her the best he could as he ushered her out of the open. "Last I saw you, you was down there. I thought…"

Lily just shook her head and smiled at him. "I slept all day after you left. Woke up to the fever broke, right as rain."

Behind them the jeep driver yelled, "What the fuck you think you're doin' Doc? We got to go!"

They both ducked at another explosion, Gene once again covering her body wtih his. Lily held him close after that, "Go. I'll be fine Gene. I'm fine."

Not an ounce of doubt or nerves in him Gene did not hesitate when he pressed her up against the brick wall behind her and kissed her. Properly, fully, like he'd always wanted to. His hold on her pressing them tight together as he claimed her mouth with his own.

Lily moaned, surprised, but quickly kissed him back. Her hands fisted in the front of his well worn field jacket and pulled him impossibly closer.

When they pulled away from eachoter Eugene's eyes drilled into hers as he straightened her helmet. "I'll find you. I promise mon cher, i'll come find you (french)" He kissed her again and relished in the feel of her one more time before he forced himself to pull away and run back to the idling jeep. Gene glanced back at her once, happy to find her watching him until he had turned, and then he watched her dart across the open and join a group of medics and wounded as they went for cover.

~~~~~

Eugene did not see her again for the whole rest of the war.

There were letters that caught up with him however and each one felt like he could breath again. She had written once that she felt much the same. Especially when he had written back to her, telling her Easy Company was finally moving off the line and heading for the crumbling but oddly much safer Germany.

The news that her unit had been discharged came to him in Austria. She was in England waiting to board a big steamer and finally begin her journey home.

Another letter never found him. HIs own company finally allowed to go home themselves, he spent a good part of his time on the boat across the Atlantic rereading the letters she had sent.

In them she had marvelled at how he had healed her, swore that he had his grandmothers gift after all. She admitted how the few times he had called her 'cher' had made her heart race and she never wanted him to call her anything else. She wrote about home, about missing him, about what she would do after the war. She reminded him he had promised to come for her, had promised he would find her.

Each letter was ended the same, "Love, your Lily" with big loopy, cursive letters.

~~~~~

Lily waited patiently for a response to her most recent letter. It never came, but she did not let herself get discouraged. Her patience paid off one evening towards then end of summer.

Her folks and younger sister were inside gathered around the radio. She herself had found she, more often than not, preferred the peace and quiet of the front porch since her return home.

That particular evening she was swaying idly on the porch swing and humming a hymm she had stuck in her head most the day.

The night was quiet but the frogs and cicadias were raising a ruckous and there was a stiff breeze blowing through the trees. The sound of all this very nearly drown out the crunch of boots approaching the front of the house.

When Eugene came up to the bottom step he was already grinning. His back straight, uniform crisp and his face clean shaven. He made eye contact with her as he climbed the few steps to the porch but stopped there to lean against the railing. "Wouldn't believe how many times I thought about you, just like this." His grin grew wider as he removed his cover and leaned his shoulder against the post.

Lily was smiling wide at the sight of him and her cheeks flushed at his words. She had no words of her own, only knew that every muscle in her body was screaming at her to run to him. The look on his face and what he had said kept her in place. He very much appeared to be enjoying the moment of a daydream realized.

FInally he budged, climbed the last step up onto the porch, and made his way over to her.

Once he got close Lily found her words. "You're home." She felt her heart start to race as he sat next to her on the old swing. The ropes creaking under shift in weight and the added motion.

"Yes I am." Roe laid his arm over the back of the swing and grinned at her. Brushed a strand of hair out of her face in the process.

She didn't say anything else before she closed the short distance between them. Excited to kiss him for the first time in nearly a year. The kiss had barely started before she pulled back, "What're you doin' here?" Lily leaned in to kiss him again, not bothering to give him time to answer.

Gene smiled into the kiss and took a gentle hold of her jaw to push her away the slightest bit. "Told you, I was gonna come find ya." He stroked the pad of his thumb over the soft skin below her ear as he gazed at her intently.

Lily grinned, leaned into his touch. "What're ya gonna do now that ya found me?"

Something in his smile changed then,"Oh I got a few things in mind," his eyes narrowed and his tongue darted out to wet his lip before he leaned to whisper in her ear. "Don't know that we ought to talk about that on your Daddy's porch though."

Bolder than he'd ever been he nipped at her ear before placing a kiss just below it and pulling back to take in the pretty, pink flush of her cheeks in the porchlight.

Blushing and chuckling Lily shoved him back playfully.

Eugene took it in stride and continued to smirk. Taking a moment before he pulled her back to him for another, longer, slower, less teasing and more promising kiss. Then he looked her in the eye with a sincerity that Lily had never seen before in any man. "I'm gonna marry you Lily Beauchesne. I'm gonna build you a house, I'm gonna give you as many kids as you want. I'll be a good husband and a good father and I'm gonna love you until the good Lord calls me home."

~~~Epilogue~~~

It was a summer night much like that night, a little over a year later, when Lily woke up to an empty bed. For a moment she simply lay there and listened. The room was silent and the night was still dark. After taking a beat she flipped back the light sheet she'd been sleeping under and put her barefeet down on the still relatively new, hardwood floor.

Gene had kept his promise. He'd married her. He'd built them a house with his, and a few friends, own hands.

As Lily sat in the dark, stretching her back and giving her foggy mind a chance to wake up a little, she thought fondly of that night he had showed up on the front porch of her parents home. He'd won her family over easily. Her mother had been sold on him the moment he'd stepped in the house, removed his cap and introduced himself to her in Cajun French. Her father had been a bit slower, unsure at first of this young man showing up late one evening in uniform and asking permission to start properly courting his daughter. Admittedly, the courting hadn't lasted long. It didn't need to.

Now, here she was, in their bedroom. Alone.

Still she smiled and finally motivated herself enough to stand up and go in search. Really there was no need to search. She found him easily.

Out on the front porch she spotted him through the screen door and watched for a moment. Taking a minute to enjoy the vew. He had his back to her as he paced the porch. He'd not put on any clothes beyond the pair of boxers he'd slept in. HIs hair, still short like he'd worn it in the Army, was tossled slightly like he half-heartedly combed his hand through it at some point.

Finally, Lily pushed her way through the screendoor, carefully sure, but it was impossible to open it quietly.

Eugene heard her and turned to face her. Face tired but with a soft smile. He leaned down to the baby he'd been bouncing in his arms and whispered, (French) "There's your pretty mama."

"What're y'all doin' out here in the dark?" She crossed the porch and stretched up to kiss his cheek and stroke the pad of her thumb over the baby's silky brow.

Gene stared at her in the way he had that looked like he still didn't quite believe he deserved this. "Your boy here was fussin', figured we'd come outside, let you get some sleep." Gene shifted his hold on their son so he could wrap an arm around his wife and pull her in close to press a kiss to her forehead.

Lily allowed it and took a deep breath, "Couldn't sleep?"

He didn't respond, but that was answer enough.There were plenty of nights Eugene couldn't sleep. Instead he just held her closer and kissed her temple.

She settled into his hold and together they stood there like that, listening to the cicadas. After a moment she lowered her gaze to her baby boy in Gene's arms and smiled. His eyes were fighting sleep, his tiny little fingers flexing unconsciously against his fathers chest. Lily turned to press a kiss to the point of Gene's shoulder and smiled as she whispered, "Look at that."

Eugene had always had a calming presence in her life. She often compared it to what his grandmother could do. Lily swore up and down that when that fever had taken hold of her in Bastogne it had been Eugene that had healed her. Of course he shrugged it off, but there was no way to deny that when it came to their son Gene was the one with the magic touch.

Their sweet little boy was smiley and cheerful and they were both grateful for it. They each had their tendencies to become a little dark and withdrawn after the war but their son had more than enough joy for all of them. The trade off was that he slept like his father; for short periods of time and fitfully. Lily could cuddle him, nurse him, sing to him, anything. Eventually he'd go back to sleep. Eventually. All Eugene had to do to get the boy to sleep was hold him.

The same was true that night, as standing there on the front porch their son was falling asleep easily in his arms. Lily kissed her husbands shoulder again and untangled herself to go and perch herself on the porch swing in the corner. From there she watched for the few minutes it took the boy to nod rest the way off and then for Gene to turn to her and whisper, "You stay right there, huh cher. I'll put him down and be right back."

So, she waited, idly swinging to and fro in the dark Louisiana night

When Eugene came back he opened and closed the screen door as quietly as he could and then came to join her on the swing. He sat down beside her and lifted his arm up in an invitation that no longer needed to be spoken and she tucked in beside him. Gene tugged her close and kissed her temple, "I'm sorry we woke you up darlin.'"

Her only answer was to shake her head and squeeze herself in closer to his side. "Worth it."

Gene smiled and kissed her again. He let his mind wander to the daydreams that had gotten him through some of the worst days of the war. This was exactly what he had dared to hope for, moments exactly like this. He kept them swinging slowly to and fro as he held her and thanked God for the life he'd been blessed with after the Hell he'd survived. The Hell they'd both survived.

He was vaguely aware of his wife humming a tune in his arms. Gene smiled and found his eyes suddenly heavy and burning with sleep.

Next thing he knew something was coaxing him to open his eyes. Vision blury he cracked his heavy lids open and in the darkness he saw Lily standing in front of him. God she was beautiful. He thought to himself, she was the only thing he'd ever need. If he survived the war, if they made it out of this alive he was gonna marry this girl. Even in his sleep fogged brain he was certain of that.

That thought jogged something in him. The feel of her hands tugging at him gently forced his eyes open even more. FInally his mind cleared. He wasn't in a frozen foxhole, his hands weren't stained with blood. The woman of his dreams was really standing in front of him. His wife was standing in front of him. Lily. He'd made it home and he'd married her.

"Let's go back to bed." Her voice was soft like her smile

Like most nights the thought that brought him peace when he found himself startled awake was Lily. He'd made it home to Louisiana. He'd married Lily Beauchesne and she'd given him a son. They had made a home together.

His eyes finally focused he smiled and hefted himself up onto his feet and settled his hands on Lilys hips and kissed her. Long and slow and sweet he moved his lips over hers and enjoyed the feel of her melting into him and her mouth opened under his. Eventually her hands pressed against his bare chest and pushed away from him barely.

Gene took in the sight of her, the feel of her, his eyes dark, "I still wake up sometimes thinkin', thinkin' all this just another one of my daydreams. Kind I used to have, over there."

"About me?" Lily whispered with a smile.

"Of course, about you cher." He shook his head and flexed his hands at her waist pulling her in tighter against him. Kissing her again, still longer and slower as she wrapped her arms up around his neck and moaned into his mouth.

She let him tug her close, enjoyed the way his eyes had darkened but still looked half asleep as he pulled away from her the smallest distance necessary to speak. "Just checkin'." Lily smirked and kissed him once more. Then she stepped back and took her hand in his and led him to the screen door with the intention of going back inside.

Her husband had a slightly different idea though as he stopped her in her track just in front of the door, hands on her hips and pulling her back into him as he ducked down to stroke her hair to the side and kissed the side of her neck. When she instantly leaned back against him he chuckled moved his hands under the shirt she wore as he mouthed at her neck greedily. Lily moaned in his arms and he smirked as he lifted his lips to whisper against her ear. "Don't think I'm ready to go back to bed just yet cher."

The End

[novankenn]

Jaune 1/2 (v2-6)

“What the hell is your problem!”

“You ruined my life!”

“I don't even know you!” 

“Ohhhhhh…. You’re so going to get it now, Jaune.” Nora growled, literally growled as her hands tightened around the handle of her wagasa. “Not only for forgetting about your BEST FRIEND, but for stealing the Red’s spot as Pyrrha’s partner!”

“Best friend? Red’s spot? Huh?” Jaune was stumped. He had no comeback for either of those two statements.

“What you hard of hearing too?” Nora bellowed as she suddenly dashed forward. Jaune was caught flatfooted, his attention to broken memories of a young girl he used to play with.

“Nora, stop!” Ren and Pyrrha shouted as they burst through the exit doors, with Headmaster Ozpin close on their heels.

“Omph!” Jaune grunted out as Nora caught him across the gut, and for the second time that evening, Jaune found himself airborne.

Nora, Pyrrha, Ren and Ozpin all watched and winched as Jaune’s body impacted the ornate top of Beacon’s central fountain. Which was immediately preceded by Jaune flopping forward and into the shallow basin of cold water below. 

“Oh, that had to hurt.” Nora commented.

“You think?” Pyrrha snapped. 

“Nora, you need to…” Ren started to speak, only to be cut off by Headmaster Ozpin.

“Refrain from attacking other students, despite your personal history, unless it is during a sanctioned spar.”

“I’m sorry, but he had it coming!” Nora defended herself. “Not only did he forget me, and ruin my childhood, but he stole Red’s spot as Pyrrha’s partner!”

“Whose, Red?” Pyrrha asked.

“The little red haired girl that walloped the nevermore.” Nora informed her potentially probable teammate.

“You mean the young lady you tried to launch into orbit?” Ren asked, causing Pyrrha’s eyes to go wide as she finally clued into whom Nora was referring to.

“That’s rig…”

The wet splat of sodden clothing hitting the cobblestones surrounding the fountain drew all their attention. Standing completely shirtless, her bust openly on display, was a young woman with strawberry blond hair, looking like the definition of a drowned rat. Nora stood there a little confused. She was certain, beyond a reasonable doubt, she had dropped Jaune into the fountain.

“Turn around!” Pyrrha snarled at Ozpin and Ren, causing them to jump to comply with her order. “Put a shirt… what the HELL ARE YOU DOING!”

Nora looked at Pyrrha and back to the woman who had obviously just climbed out of the fountain’s basin. Nora was sure the woman standing in front of her was Red. In fact, she would say she was absolutely positive that the girl currently stripping down to her underwear…

“What are you DOING?” Nora yelled as what she was witnessing finally clicked in her mind. “Put your clothes back on!”

“NO!” the girl Nora had dubbed as Red snapped, as she finished stripping down to just her boxer briefs. “They’re all soaked and heavy… and if I’m going to…”

“TAKE IT ALL OFF, BABY!!”  came a shout followed by several catcalls, originating from the broken window., “Show us wh… URK!!”

“ANYONE ELSE?” the authoritarian and rather upset voice of Professor Goodwitch floated through the air.

“Ms Arc… please… please put some clothes on. Think of your modesty.”

“Nah… they’re soaked, and I’m kicking her ass.”

“Ha! You and what army?” Nora responded, Red’s hostile tone tickling her competitive streak, “Wait… hold on, did you just say Arc?”

“Yes I… hey?!?” Ozpin tried to reply, only for Pyrrha top yank his coat off. “Ms Nikos?”

Pyrrha said nothing. Gave no word of explanation, nor reason for her actions. She just acted, and as soon as the Headmaster’s coat was free of his body, Pyrrha headed straight for the soaked young woman.

“You’re in the way!” Jaune snapped as she took a combat stance.

“And you’re acting like a moron.” Pyrrha countered. “Put on the jacket, Jaune.”

==\ Episode List /==

[upontherisers]

100 paired prompts - ³⁹⁾ a lit candle and a snowstorm, for Coretta!

thanks for this, merc! i had a blast writing it here's an epistolary look into an english winter.

December 27th, 1944

Dear Lil,

Happy New Year, though I’m sure the day’ll be long past by the time you get this. I received your Xmas letter right on time — an hour later and the truck wouldn’t have been able to make the trip across base from the runway to the mail hut let alone all the way up the road to our billet. The walk to and from the hospital seems uphill both ways as the wind blows bitterly and the mud blends with the slush, turning into a dreadful half-frozen muck that freezes my feet in my boots. I come home more blue and purple than brown.

I made the mistake of calling this storm a ‘blizzard’ in the general ward yesterday, and I immediately had nine soldiers insisting that this paltry, slightly snowy breeze is chump change compared to the head-high snow banks that pile up in Poughkeepsie and Duluth and Philly. (And they swore by it! “Taller than you, Coretta,” they said.) You East Coasters may think that this is entirely commonplace but you must understand that a California girl like me needs a certain amount of heat or else my blood starts slowing down in my veins.

Oh, hell. What am I complaining about? I have food and blankets and a fireplace, and the electricity is in and out but it’s an option nonetheless and I say all of this not to boast but to say that you are far too kind to me, Lillian. You engage with my frivolity as if your circumstance is similar when you ought to remind me just how good I got it. You and Dick, both.

You’d have a good laugh if you could see me now, hunched over my desk and scrawling away by candlelight. (Forgive my abysmal penmanship but I haven’t had the time to write and the post’s going out in the morning now that the roads are clear.) Rebecca told me I look like a ghost wandering the hall in my heavy housecoat and white nightgown, chamberstick held aloft. I gave her quite a fright as I left the washroom earlier, but we’re all jumping at shadows tonight. The wind is howling over the roof and rustling the shingles on the roof like a C-47 is overhead and I wish it was you all on your way home.

Please confirm that you and Dick received your scarves. The Calais mail office has developed a reputation for some light fingers and if they know what’s good for them, those scarves will be around your neck now or on their way to you lest some clerks find themselves needing to retake the Army PT course midwinter.

How is he? He’s filled with thoughts in his letters — what the Airborne is or isn’t doing, his theories on leadership — but I know he’s keeping me from the worst of it. I know because you tell me everything he won’t. His words are such a comfort to me; I only hope mine are the same to him. 

Stay safe and stay dry. That ear infection is because you insist on surrounding yourself with damp dirt all day. I know you have your thoughts about the C.O. from Dog Company but he’s right — time in the rear, even just a night or two, will be good for you, Lil. They’re not sending you home for a war bonds tour. A hot meal and some new blankets can do wonders. And don’t let Dick keep shaving; he’ll ‘grooming standards’ himself into a hospital.

My eyes are closing and my candle’s at its end so I’ll bid you adieu, my dear. I heard Crosby on the radio today and thought of you. My love to everyone.

Your pal,

Coretta

[history-class-menace]

Band of Brothers oc

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Nancy Donovan.

Tw: Mention of domestic abuse, period typical sexism, war trauma, idk what else lmk if i missed anything

Note: when I write things like this i am not ever trying to disrespect real life veterans who fought in wars, this is based off the HBO series

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Born: April 12, 1921

Appearance: 5'5, large greyish brown eyes, thick dark brown hair, fair skin, def has a sleeper build. dark circles under her eyes, 30% deaf in her left ear.

Personality: Nancy is practical and tough, her will doesn't break easily. She's as stubborn as she's pretty. She's intelligent, brave and fiercely loyal but she feels like she needs to protect everyone, all she's ever done is take care of other people and she's forgotten how to take care of herself first. She doesn't feel like she deserves to be called a saint or an angel and hates it when people call her that. She hopes to find peace one of these days but for now she's got work to do on the battlefield.

Backstory: Nancy was born in a small town just outside of Casper, Wyoming to a working class Irish American family. Her father, Paul, was a lumberjack, her mother, Rose, was a housewife. Nancy was the eldest of three daughters, her two sisters are Bonnie (17) and Mary (15). Her father wanted sons, he loved his daughters but his trauma from the first world war mixed with the fact that he had his first daughter quite young meant he didn't really know how to be a father be there for his children. Nancy raised her younger sisters with her mother while her father worked all day, the silent resentment brewing as they struggled to get by during the Depression. When Nancy was 16, she fell in love with James O'Ryan, another Irish boy in town. They had grown up together. His father had a good job and he was smart, handsome and respectful, and her father liked him. It seemed like a dream come true. They became engaged when they were 18 in 1940. They had a generally happy relationship even though James' expectations for Nancy to be a quiet housewife and to know her place were clear, Nancy tried to play along even though it got on her nerves. In 1941 when the United States declared war on Japan and the Axis Powers, Nancy wanted to enlist and become a nurse withJames, who was enlisting in the Airforce, he forbid her from it, saying it wasn't her place and that she was to stay at home waiting for him like a "good woman". They fought about this until James made the mistake of hitting her during the argument, trying to "knock her down a peg". Nancy left that night with a bruised face, broken heart and a steel resolve and enlisted in the Army to become a combat nurse, she was placed in the 101st Airborne Division, in the second platoon of Easy Company. Not only did she join the Army to escape her abusive relationship, but to also prove that she could do anything a man could do after being told her whole life what she can and can't do. Sobel resented that Nancy was a woman and was trying to keep up with the men (and succeeding), and made her life a living hell at Toccoa. She worked twice as hard as the other men and gained their respect because of it.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Random Facts

-She has dyscalculia

-She keeps a journal, writes in it everyday. (i might write it at some point)

-Sometimes writes poetry

-Daddy issues

-Thought daughter

-insomniac, girl does not sleep

-It took a little while for the men to fully accept Nancy but once they did it was like she was one of them (oversharing, complete lack of personal space, fierce loyalty and lifelong friendship)

Rip Nancy you would've loved Mitski

[usafphantom2]

China offered its Y-20 transport plane to Nigeria

The air transport plane was placed on the international market in November, when it was shown to the head of Nigeria's defense.

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 01/13/2024 - 19:00 in Military

China is trying to sell its Y-20 Kunpeng transport plane to foreign buyers, with its manufacturer expanding production capacity in preparation, according to media reports.

The strategic military transport aircraft was placed on the international market in November, when the Y-20BE model was shown to Nigeria's Defense Minister Mohammed Badaru Abubakar in Beijing, the military magazine Ordnance Industry Science Technology reported last week.

The heavy transport plane, nicknamed the 'chubby girl' (chubby girl) for its large fuselage, is comparable to the Soviet Ilyushin Il-76 and the American Boeing C-17.

According to the report, it will be an opportunity for China to “establish deeper strategic relations and cooperation with countries as soon as they have the Y-20”.

Although Nigeria currently depends on the C-130 Hercules as its main tactical air transport aircraft, military experts say the Y-20E would provide the country with genuine strategic air transport capabilities.

The aircraft manufacturer, XAIC, operates assembly lines for mass production, according to the Chinese state broadcaster.

Its manufacturer, the state-owned Xian Aircraft Industrial Corporation (XAIC), has been operating assembly lines for mass production to increase efficiency and expand capacity, the state broadcaster CCTV reported in November.

Instead of mounting the aircraft on a fixed workstation, its parts are moved along a "pulse line" as the work steps are completed - similar to the way cars are produced. These assembly lines are used to build some of the most advanced aircraft in the world, including the Lockheed Martin F-35 and the Boeing 787.

More than 90 percent of the parts of the Y-20 are manufactured by a digitized system, according to the CCTV report, which showed images from the XAIC factory of robotic arms, remotely controlled maneuvers and laser-assisted high-precision assembly work.

The broadcaster's report said that the production capacity of the plant could meet the demand of both the Chinese air force and international customers.

"The production speed of the Y-20 is the fastest in the world in this type," he said.

The People's Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF) has received almost 100 planes so far, half of them in the last two years.

The plane, which is 47 meters long and 50 meters wide, has become the flagship of the People's Liberation Army since it entered service in 2016. It can transport up to 66 tons.

XAIC has delivered almost 100 planes to the PLA Air Force so far - about half of them in the last two years. It also changed from Russian-made Soloviev D-30KP-2 engines to the most powerful Chinese-made Shenyang WS-20 turbofan engines.

Variants were also developed, the Y-20U tank plane and the Y-20AEW airborne alert and early control aircraft.

Tags: Military AviationChinaNAF - Nigerian Air Force/Nigerian Air ForceXian Y-20

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[acourtofthought]

But Elain’s cry—a warning. A warning to— To my right, now exposed, Tamlin ran for me. To grab me at last. I hurled a knife at him—as hard as I could.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Of course, there are risks—the transition can be … difficult. But a strong-willed individual could survive.”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“I don’t know how to look,” Elain mumbled. “You can try.” I should have asked Amren to train her, too. But Elain studied me, the map, then nodded. / Still, Elain shuddered when I pulled out. “Why?”. “It has answers I need. Immediately.” Or else we might not have much of an army left to fight that entire Hybern host once I located it. Elain again glanced at the map. At me. Then closed her eyes.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“Grab onto him!” Elain ordered the wide-eyed human girl. / Elain screamed at her, “If you want to live, do it now!” / But I saw, even as I ran, Elain’s pale hands lurch—gripping the girl by her neck, holding her as tightly as she could. And just in time.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Azriel’s roar echoed off the rocks as the hound slammed into him, dragging those shredding talons down his spine, his wings— The girl screamed, but Elain moved. As Azriel battled to keep them airborne, keep his grip on them, my sister sent a fierce kick into the beast’s face. Its eye. Another. Another. It bellowed, and Elain slammed her bare, muddy foot into its face again. The blow struck home. With a yelp of pain, it released its claws—and plunged into the ravine.

“I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.”

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Cassian shifted in his seat. “So we track down the Dread Trove—how?” Elain spoke from the doorway, having appeared so silently that they all twisted toward her, “Using me.”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Elain remained in the doorway, her face pale but her expression harder than Nesta had ever seen it. “You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta.”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Elain cut in sharply, “I am not a child to be fought over.”

Azriel stiffened. “I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.”

When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Az has known Elain for how long? Knowing she's done all those things (aside from the last which hadn't happened yet)? Yet he still feels like she can't handle the Trove though believes Nesta can? 🤔

[noneedtoamputate]

War Stories Chapters 7-12 Summary

Last month, I purchased this at a book fair, and I joked about how I was going to change the name of the great-grandpa from Jacob Firestone to Ronald Speirs. I am finally getting around to reading it and will give a chapter summary after the break. Spoiler warning.

Chapters 1-6 Summary

Taglist: @kohinoor4u

Chapter Seven

Jacob does his basic training at Fort Benning in October 1943. Although he is in the infantry, the paratroopers are also there, and they think they are better than everyone else. He says that infantry will beat the airborne during the inter-squad event the next week. Jacob gets the cooks to oversalt the airborne's meals, and the infantry wins the footrace.

Chapter 8

Jacob, Daniel, and Trevor visit Fort Benning in the first leg of their trip. Jacob thinks the current army recruits have it way easier than he did in 1943. They went to the museum on base and saw a replica of the cliffs on Omaha Beach, and Trevor could tell his great-grandpa was thinking of the past.

Chapter Nine

On the ship over to the England, Jacob was on a boat with almost 9,000 GIs. Another transport ship was attacked by a U-boat, and all he could do was watch.

Chapter Ten

The three Firestone men get to London, and Trevor only wants to see war-related museums. They take the train to Portsmouth, but on the way, Jacob hears a stop for Petersfield. He spent time there, too, so he gets his luggage, and they make an unplanned stop in the middle of nowhere.

Chapter Eleven

Petersfield is where Jacob and the rest of Bravo Company trained for the invasion. During one training exercise, a Sherman tank came toward Jacob's foxhole, and, not having time to do anything else, he curled up in a ball as the tank went over the hole. When he came out, tank tracks were in his helmet. He never complained about digging foxholes again.

Chapter Twelve

The Firestones took a ferry from Portsmouth to Normandy. Daniel checks Facebook, and he sees more threats against his grandpa from La Verite. When they arrive in Cherbourg, they don't notice two teenagers, a boy and girl, watching people leave the boat. They have two pictures in their hands: one of a young Jacob Firestone in his army uniform, and one of the older man as he appeared in the present.