JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

➩ Series:

Collateral Hearts

↳ Bucky Barnes, caught in a political storm and haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier, battles internal guilt and fragmented memories while finding solace in someone who sees beyond his trauma, intensifying his struggle between seeking connection and fearing the harm he might cause.

➩ One Shots:

↳ coming soon …

BY FAR MY FAVORITE CHAPTER I'VE EVER WRITTEN!!

Chapter Six: Rock N’ Roll Dream

Eddie Munson x OC!Reader || WC: 4.6K

A/N: now without further ado, the chapter everyone has been waiting for, I made sure to make this chapter a long one!! Enjoy! 🤭

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A rollercoaster of emotions were swirling through Lyra's mind. In the past twenty-four hours, she had felt so many unprecedented feelings that had been suppressed for years, bubbling up to the surface like a shaken soda can ready to explode. Memories of happier times mixed with the current turmoil, creating a chaotic storm within her. She knew that Billy hated change, clinging to the familiar like a lifeline. But the more time they spent in Hawkins, the longer he became unrecognizable to her.

Lyra remembered the days when Billy was her protector, always looking out for her with a fierce loyalty. But now, his actions were more erratic and unpredictable. She could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface, a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. The small town of Hawkins, with its eerie stillness and lurking shadows, seemed to amplify his inner demons, turning him into someone she could barely understand.

The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressed heavily on Lyra's shoulders. She felt a pang of guilt, wondering if there was something she could have done differently, some way to reach out to the brother she once knew. The howling wind snapped her out of her inner turmoil as she hugged the leather jacket closer to her body so that it would provide some much needed comfort and warmth that she desperately needed. The cold air bit at her cheeks, turning them a rosy shade, and her breath formed small clouds in the frigid night.

She took a second to distract herself by analyzing Tina's backyard. The yard was a spectacle of Halloween creativity. Fake cobwebs stretched between the trees, glistening in the moonlight, and plastic skeletons hung from the branches, swaying gently in the wind. Teenagers from Hawkins certainly knew how to throw a rager. However the decorations and trash that littered the yard weren’t the only thing that caught Lyra’s attention. She was quick to noticed a shadowy figure completely isolated from everyone. The only indication that she wasn't out there alone was the amber glow of their cigarette.

Letting her eyes adjust to the darkness she noticed that he was wearing a costume she definitely recognized for the first time all night. He was dressed in tight black jeans, a leather jacket adorned with metal studs, and a wild mane of curly hair that framed his face. Without thinking too much about it, her feet carried her over to the stranger, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. "Kirk Hammet." The stranger in question nearly spat out the beer he had taken a swing from.

He swore he was hallucinating, that is until his eyes met Lyra's. "W-What?" He spluttered trying to wrap his head around the fact that a pretty girl knew who he was dressed up as. "I like your costume, bold choice."  The stranger chuckled nervously, running a hand through his curly hair. "Well if the shoe fits." He gestured to himself theatrically. "Thanks, not many people get it. You into Metallica?" His voice was a mix of surprise and curiosity, the kind that made Lyra feel a little less like an outsider in this sea of unfamiliar faces.

"Yeah, you could say that," She replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and the distant laughter of partygoers. Breaking the silence, Lyra watched as the long-haired stranger reached behind him to grab a metal lunchbox, its surface adorned with stickers of various rock bands. "So, you interested in some of the devil's lettuce, sweetheart?" He asked, shaking it comically, the contents rattling inside.

Lyra couldn't help but scoff, her breath visible in the chilly air. "You're a dealer?" She raised her brow in question, her curiosity piqued. "Only the best in Hawkins," He smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Eddie Munson at your service." He bowed theatrically, his wild curls bouncing with the movement. Lyra chuckled, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie in his presence. "As much as I appreciate the offer, that's more my brother’s vice rather than mine," She replied, her voice tinged with amusement.

Eddie's face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Shit, I'll make myself scarce then," He said, pretending to tip an invisible hat before turning to leave. But before he could take a step, Lyra reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of warmth through her, grounding her in the moment. "Wait," She said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to go." Eddie's eyes softened, and he nodded, taking a step closer.

The night seemed a little less cold, and the world outside Tina's backyard felt a little less daunting. Breaking the silence, Lyra watched as the long-haired stranger, Eddie Munson, settled down beside her on the weathered bench. The wood creaked under his weight, adding to the symphony of crickets chirping in the background. He leaned back, his eyes scanning the star-strewn sky above, a thoughtful expression on his face. "So you're the new girl I've been hearing so much about." He concluded putting two and two together. His voice was low and smooth, carrying a hint of curiosity.

Lyra shrugged, turning to face him, her eyes reflecting the twinkling stars above. "What gave it away?" She questioned, her tone light but her eyes searching his face for an answer. "Well," He started holding up his finger. "For one I've never seen you around, and I'd remember someone with good taste in music." And two," He held up two fingers. "Gossip travels fast at the hellhole that is Hawkins High." Lyra chuckled softly, the sound blending with the distant rustle of leaves. The air was cool, but the warmth of their budding conversation kept the chill at bay.

Eddie's eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and genuine interest, making her feel oddly at ease. "So, you got a name, or am I going to have to call you sweetheart all night?" He teased, his smile widening. "Lyra," She replied, her voice steady but soft. The name felt like a bridge between them, a small but significant step towards familiarity. Eddie nodded, as if committing her name to memory. "Lyra," He repeated, letting the name roll off his tongue. The way he said her name made it feel like more than just a formality; it felt like the beginning of something new and unexpected.

"You got another cigarette on you, Eddie?" Lyra questioned teasingly, quite confident that she knew the answer. "You wound me," He muttered, digging the pack out of the inside of his leather jacket. "Never leave home without it, even if I promised my uncle I'd quit." He pulled out a cigarette and handed it to her, the silver rings on his fingers catching the faint light from the porch. Lyra took the cigarette, feeling the cool paper between her fingers. The smell of tobacco mixed with the earthy scent of the night air, creating a strangely comforting aroma.

Eddie struck his lighter, the brief flare of light illuminating his face before he held the flame to her cigarette. She inhaled deeply, the smoke curling up into the night sky, blending with the misty breath of the cool evening. Eddie leaned back, his own cigarette dangling from his lips. "You know," He said, exhaling a cloud of smoke, "My uncle's always on my case about these things. Says they're gonna be the death of me." He chuckled, a sound that was more resigned than amused. Lyra watched the smoke drift away, her thoughts momentarily lost in the swirling patterns.

"Yeah, well, sometimes it's the little rebellions that keep us sane," She replied, her voice tinged with a quiet defiance. She glanced over at Eddie, noticing the way his eyes softened, as if he understood more than he let on. The night seemed to stretch on, the silence between them comfortable and unforced. "So what's your story?" Eddie asked catching Lyra by surprise. She raised her brow in question urging him to continue. "You don't drink or smoke weed, but you smoke tobacco and ride a motorcycle," He thought aloud, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. Eddie's gaze met hers, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

“Don’t forget, I also like metal,” She added with a smirk, the edges of her lips curling into a playful grin. The sound of distant laughter and the rustling of leaves filled the air, but their focus remained solely on each other. “Right, how could I forget,” He teased, making Lyra smile, her cheeks flushing slightly in the cool night air. After a beat of silence, almost as if Eddie was trying to figure out exactly what to say, he finally spoke. "You're interesting," He concluded, his voice filled with genuine curiosity and admiration.

This made Lyra let out a chuckle, the sound light and melodic, blending seamlessly with the rustling leaves around them. "Says the resident metalhead - drug dealer," She sassed back, motioning to him and his metal lunchbox, which he always carried with an air of nonchalance. "Touché," He smirked, taking a long drag out of his cigarette, which was almost out. "I gotta ask, how'd you even get into metal in the first place?" Eddie questioned. "Well," Her eyes flickered with nostalgia as she thought back to her childhood.

"When you have a brother who blasts it 24/7, it tends to grow on you." She could almost hear the distant echoes of guitars and drums coming from Billy's room, the relentless beats becoming the soundtrack of her formative years. "Besides," She smirked to herself, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Axl Rose's ass looks amazing in leather." She snickered, recalling the posters that she had admired everyday on the walls of Billy's room. "Jesus H. Christ," Eddie groaned, falling backwards on the wooden bench dramatically.

"You're one of those girls." Lyra scoffed, teasingly shoving his shoulder. "You know if you're ever interested in hearing some live metal music sometime and giving your ole’ Walkman a break, my band and I play at the Hideout on Tuesdays." He suggested, his voice carrying a hint of hopeful excitement. "Why does it not surprise me that you're in a bad." Lyra thought aloud, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Eddie was about to give her a witty remark when she interrupted, her curiosity piqued. "Let me guess, with your theatrics, you're the lead guitarist too?"

"And lead singer most nights." He announced proudly, puffing out his chest a bit. The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and Lyra couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "So you're one of those guys." Lyra teased throwing his words from earlier back at him. Eddie couldn't help the smile that made it's way on his face. There was absolutely no way that a pretty girl liked metal and appreciated his humor. "Maybe I could get your number and-" Only Eddie didn't get to finish his sentence. A sudden loud crash from a nearby alley interrupted him, causing both of them to look in that direction.

Hearing the commotion of "Ooos" coming from inside the house made goosebumps arise on Lyra's skin. That could not be good. The night air felt suddenly colder, the chill seeping into her bones as she tried to gauge the situation. "Duty calls?" Eddie asked, immediately noticing Lyra's shift in demeanor. His voice was gentle, yet tinged with curiosity and concern. Lyra turned to give Eddie a remorseful look, wishing she could stay in his company longer. The warmth and ease of their conversation had been a rare comfort. "I'm so sorry,” She apologized, seeing the disappointment swimming in his chocolate doe eyes.

“I just have a feeling that my brother is somehow involved and we have a curfew," She explained, her voice tinged with frustration and a hint of regret. She could feel the weight of responsibility pulling her away. "No biggie sweetheart, just get home safe, alright." Eddie replied with a reassuring smile. His calm and understanding demeanor was a stark contrast to the chaos she anticipated inside. "Thanks, Eddie," She smiled, grabbing her helmet. "It was really nice to meet you." With an affectionate squeeze to his bicep, Lyra ran inside to see what all the commotion was about, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and the lingering warmth of their brief connection.

Upon entering the house, which was now even more trashed than when she arrived, Lyra maneuvered herself through drunken bodies to try and find the source of the commotion. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, and the sound of loud, off-key singing mixed with laughter still filled the room. She carefully stepped over broken glass and discarded cups, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of trouble. She let out a breath of relief seeing as Billy was nowhere to be seen, yet she worried that was a bad sign too.

The last time she saw him, he was already on edge, and his absence now could mean he was getting into even more trouble elsewhere. Those thoughts were quickly put on pause as someone from behind crashed into her. She clutched onto her shoulder, hoping that her hand could relieve the sting before turning to give the drunk partygoer a piece of her mind. "Watch where you're going!" She hissed, only she was taken aback due to making eye contact with 'King Steve'. The same person her brother was face to face with hours earlier.

Upon noticing his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, Lyra momentarily felt bad for yelling. Steve Harrington wanted nothing more than to snap back at the blonde girl in front of him, but decided against it. Instead he shook his head, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion, and made his way to the front door without another look back. “Asshole.” She muttered stretching out her aching shoulder and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the residual anger. Suddenly, she heard a slurred curse behind her, "S-Shit!" Spinning around, she saw a drunken girl stumbling, her eyes half-closed and her movements unsteady.

Lyra quickly stepped forward, just in time to steady the girl who looked like she could pass out any second. "Woah, are you okay?" Lyra questioned, her voice softening with concern as she looked into the girl's glazed eyes, trying to gauge her condition. The girl's makeup was smeared, and her hair was a tangled mess, suggesting she had been through quite an ordeal. "I'm f-fine," She slurred, her words barely coherent. Yet Lyra could tell by her disheveled appearance and the way she swayed unsteadily that she was far from fine. The strong smell of alcohol lingered around her, and her clothes were wrinkled and slightly damp a red splotch staining the white material.

"Let's get you some fresh air, okay?" Lyra suggested, trying to guide her towards the door. She placed a supportive arm around the girl's shoulders, feeling the cold sweat on her skin. Yet before Lyra could direct her outside, a familiar voice interrupted. "Woah, Nancy, what happened?" Jonathan Byers questioned, his eyes widening with concern as he took in the scene. He stepped closer, his brow furrowing in worry. A moment of realization seemed to cross Nancy's face before she looked at Jonathan, her voice barely above a whisper. "Steve's bullshit," She muttered, her words thick with emotion and fatigue.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked like she had been crying. Jonathan frowned, his worry deepening as he glanced between Lyra and Nancy. "I need to get her home," He announced, taking a gentle but firm hold of Nancy's forearm. He began to steer her towards the front door, his grip steadying her as she stumbled slightly. Nancy's breathing was shallow, and she leaned heavily on Jonathan, her head drooping as if the weight of the world was pressing down on her. "Let me help you," Lyra insisted, her voice filled with concern and urgency as she followed closely behind Jonathan. She reached out to support Nancy's other side, her hands trembling slightly with worry.

The trio moved slowly through the crowded room, weaving between groups of people who were oblivious to the unfolding drama. As they reached the front door, the cool night air rushed in, bringing a momentary sense of relief. The stars were faintly visible against the dark sky, and the distant hum of traffic provided a soothing backdrop. Lyra could feel the tension in Nancy's body begin to ease slightly, but she knew they still had a long way to go. She glanced at Jonathan, who nodded in appreciation, his eyes reflecting the same concern and determination that she felt. Together, they guided Nancy outside, hoping that the fresh air and the quiet of the night would help her recover.

As they reached Jonathan's car, Lyra was quick to pull his passenger car door open so that he could gently place Nancy inside without much of a struggle. Nancy slumped into the seat, her eyes half-closed, as Jonathan carefully buckled her in, making sure she was comfortable and secure before shutting the door softly. Turning to Lyra he fiddled with his fingers, his eyes darting around nervously. "I, um, saw your brother passed out by the tree on the side of the house," He informed her, his voice tinged with concern. She was unable to stifle the eye roll, knowing that dealing with Billy was going to be a challenge.

Lyra couldn't help but roll her eyes, the exasperation clear on her face. The image of her brother sprawled out under the tree flashed in her mind, adding to her already mounting stress. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come, while Jonathan gave her a sympathetic look, his hands now resting on the roof of the car. "I'll take care of it," She sighed a hint of exasperation crossing her face. "Get home safe," At her words he nodded, giving Lyra a reassuring smile. He jumped into the driver's seat of his car, the engine roaring to life as he turned the key. With a final wave, he drove off into the night, leaving Lyra to deal with Billy. She watched the taillights disappear around the corner, the weight of the night's events settling heavily on her shoulders.

Taking another deep breath, she turned back towards the house, her footsteps echoing softly on the gravel driveway. The porch light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with the wind. She hoped that Billy wouldn't be too far out of it, but as she neared the side of the house, her hopes were quickly dashed. Sure enough, just as Jonathan had said, Billy was sprawled out, nursing a bottle of god knows what in his hand. The smell of alcohol hit her before she even reached him, a pungent mix of whiskey and stale beer. As she reached him, she couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust.

"Jesus, Billy, you smell like a bar. How much did you drink?" She muttered, crouching down to his level. She gently pried the bottle from his hand, her fingers brushing against his clammy skin. The night was far from over, and as she helped him to his feet, she knew that the real challenge was just beginning. "K-Keg King." He slurred, a sloppy smile spreading across his face. For a brief moment, he seemed proud of himself, but the smile quickly faded when he caught sight of his sister's hardened expression. The disappointment in her eyes was unmistakable, and it cut through his drunken haze like a knife.

"Keys," Lyra demanded, holding her hand out, her voice firm and unwavering. She wasn't in the mood for any of his usual antics. Her patience was wearing thin, and all she wanted was to get him inside and away from any more trouble. Billy fumbled in his pockets, the sound of jingling keys breaking the tense silence. Finally, he pulled them out and dropped them into her waiting hand, his head hanging low in shame. Lyra clenched the keys in her hand, the cold metal biting into her palm. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before wrapping an arm around Billy's waist to support him. They stumbled together towards his Camaro, the gravel crunching under their feet in the quiet night.

"You can't keep drowning your problems in alcohol." Billy's head lolled to the side, his eyes half-closed. "I'm fine." He mumbled, his words barely coherent. Lyra shook her head, guiding him into the passenger seat and buckling him in, only taking her eyes off of him to throw her helmet in the backseat. "This isn't fine," She said softly, more to herself than to him. She walked around to the driver's side, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. As she started the car, she glanced over at Billy, who had already drifted off to sleep. She sighed, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on her shoulders.

Just then like a bucket of ice water being dumped onto her, she realized that she and Billy had come to the party separated. Her eyes darted to the spot where her motorcycle was still parked a few feet away, gleaming under the streetlights. There was no way she was about to leave her prized possession in someone else's driveway overnight. "Shit," she muttered to herself, fighting the exhaustion that was beginning to cloud her mind. She needed to formulate a coherent plan, but her brain felt sluggish and uncooperative. The thought of abandoning her bike gnawed at her, but so did the idea of leaving Billy alone in his current state.

Almost as if someone was answering her thoughts, Lyra spotted the familiar unruly hair of Eddie Munson, a few feet away throwing his metal lunchbox into a van. This was her only chance. "Stay in the car." Lyra demanded throwing the drivers seat open. Hearing those words, Billy woke up from his drunken slumber, sitting up straighter and fumbling with his seatbelt. "But-" Lyra's harsh voice cut him off. "Billy I mean it!" She all but growled, her patience snapping. "Stay. In. The. Car." With those final words she slammed the door to his Camaro shut leaving no more room for argument.

"Eddie, wait!" She called out, sprinting towards him, her heart pounding in her chest. Eddie turned, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw her approaching. "Lyra? What's going on?" He asked, concern etched on his face. "I need your help," She said breathlessly, glancing back at the car where Billy was slumped. He followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing momentarily. "I need to get him home, but I drove my motorcycle here. Is there any way, and of course if you don't mind, can we store my motorcycle in the back of your trunk? Just for tonight I promise I'll-" Yet her rambling was cut short. "Hey," Eddie coaxed placing his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. "Slow down." He spoke softly, his touch grounding her in the moment. She could feel the warmth of his hands through her jacket, a stark contrast to the chill of the night air.

"Go grab your motorcycle, I'll make room in the back of my van, okay?" His words were a balm to her frazzled nerves, and she nodded, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. Eddie's calm presence was exactly what she needed in that moment. She watched as Eddie moved with purpose, his movements quick and efficient as he opened the van's back doors and began rearranging the clutter inside to make space. Eddie started to move the band's supplies around, carefully stacking amplifiers and drum kits to one side, making sure nothing would topple over during the ride. He meticulously placed guitar cases and mic stands, his hands moving with a practiced ease that spoke of many nights spent loading and unloading gear. The van, once a chaotic mess of cables and equipment, began to take on a semblance of order under his diligent care.

Not feeling confident enough to answer, she simply nodded again, her eyes following Eddie's every move. She could see the determination in his eyes, the way his brow furrowed slightly as he focused on the task at hand. It was a small gesture, but in that moment, it meant the world to her. The sight of Eddie’s methodical movements and the sound of equipment being carefully arranged provided a strange sense of comfort, making her feel that everything would be okay. As Eddie continued to rearrange the band supplies, Lyra made her way to her motorcycle, with a gentle rumble, she started the engine, the sound a familiar comfort to her ears. Slowly and carefully, she maneuvered the motorcycle towards the waiting van. Eddie glanced up from his task, a smile playing on his lips as he saw her approach.

Together, they worked in harmony, coordinating the loading of the motorcycle into the back of the van. Eddie guided her with precise hand signals, ensuring the bike was securely fastened for the journey ahead. With a final click, the van doors were closed, the task completed. As they both stepped back, a sense of accomplishment filled the air. Lyra turned to Eddie, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Keep her safe for me." She whispered, her voice carrying a mix of hope and reliance.

"Scouts honor." He assured, using his fingers and crossing his heart over his leather jacket. The gesture, both earnest and endearing, made a smile make its way onto Lyra's face. "Thanks Rockstar, I owe you one." Even in the moonlight, it was hard to miss the crimson blush that made its way onto Eddie's face. He looked down for a moment, kicking a small pebble with his boot before meeting her gaze again. "Get home safe, alright." Lyra nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She gave Eddie one last appreciative look before turning to leave, the sound of her boots crunching on the gravel the only noise in the stillness.

As she walked away, she glanced back over her shoulder, catching Eddie's eye one more time. He gave her a small, reassuring wave, and she couldn't help but smile. As she opened the door to the Camaro, the leather seat creaked softly under her weight. Billy jolted awake as Lyra started the engine, his eyes bleary and confused. The soft hum of the engine seemed to pull him fully back to consciousness. Almost as if he remembered that they had driven separately, he voiced Lyra's concern from a few minutes prior. "Y-Your bike." His voice was groggy but filled with genuine worry. "It's safe with a friend." She reassured, her voice calm and steady as she inserted the key into the ignition.

She could feel the familiar vibration of the engine beneath her, a comforting reminder of the freedom and speed that awaited them. With a quick, practiced motion, she shifted gears, and the Camaro roared to life. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard, noting the time and realizing they had to hurry. The thought of Susan and Neil realizing they were out past curfew sent a jolt of adrenaline through her. The tires screeched slightly as she pressed the accelerator, the car speeding off into the night.

EDDIE MUNSON

“It’s very metal, what you did. That’s all I’m saying.”

➩ Series:

Broken Record

↳ Eddie Munson x Hargrove!OC! what can go wrong?

➩ One Shots:

↳ coming soon …

SEASON TWO ➩ BROKEN RECORD

Eddie Munson x OC!Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: a new year typically means a fresh start. Well, not for Hawkins. New dangers arise, secrets and lies emerge, and new residents must confront hidden truths. Navigating these challenges, will uncover deeper connections and face even greater threats, testing bonds and resilience.

chapter one: new neighbors, new nightmares

chapter two: unforgettable encounters

chapter three: if darkness had a son

chapter four: problem child

chapter five: trick or treat, freak

chapter six: rock n’ roll dream

chapter seven: the awakening

chapter eight: thunderstruck

chapter nine: hells bells

chapter ten: cherry flavored

chapter eleven: maneater

chapter twelve: one step forward, three steps back

chapter thirteen: made for lovin’ you

UNCHARTED WAS SO WORTH THE WAIT! 🤩🏴‍☠️

COLLATERAL HEARTS

bucky barnes x fem!stark!reader

SUMMARY: Bucky Barnes finds himself at the center of a political storm. Haunted by his past as the Winter Soldier, Bucky is pursued by both friends and foes, unsure of who he can trust. His mind is a battlefield, filled with fragmented memories and guilt over the actions he was forced to commit. In the midst of this turmoil, he encounters someone who approaches him with a genuine sense of empathy. Unlike others who see him as a threat or a tool, she sees the person behind the trauma. The internal struggle between his desire for connection and his fear of causing harm adds to the anguish he feels daily, making every interaction a bittersweet reminder of the man he wants to be versus the man he fears he still is.

WARNINGS: cursing, heavy angst, marvel theme violence, some talks of blood and gore, self depicting thoughts

A/N: I love Bucky, so I couldn’t help myself in writing this! He deserves the world, marvel needs to leave him alone, so here’s my take on his happy ending! Beautiful divider graphic by @sister-lucifer

chapter one: echoes of the past

chapter two: lines drawn

chapter three: fractured bonds

chapter four: sanctuary