#ally’s draft dump day

[coryosbaby]

—𝓑𝓸𝓻𝓷 𝓣𝓸 𝓓𝓲𝓮

reaper ash x fem! victor! reader

synopsis: finding comfort in the arms of another.

content warning . angst, loss of virginity, nsfw

Having an ally in this inescapable game of life and death is never something you expected— but life seems to always surprise you.

When you’re reaped into the games you lock eyes with him the moment your name is called— he’s right across from you, after all, sporting a hat and a dark blue shirt. You see the look on his face, the anger in his eyes. And then his name is called, too. And that anger still stays, even more fiery this time. You both approach the stage. They announce your names. You’re both sent off.

And from then on, it’s you and Reaper.

—

When you’re thrown into the train, he takes a seat beside you. Bats fly in, much to your horror, and Reaper hits them off of you— every. single. one.

—

When they dump you out both in that cage, after a long days worth of shitty, dehumanizing news interviews, the sun goes down and it’s night. No one is awake, and the relief you feel from that should be all you need. But the fear of the dark plagues you so intensely that your breathing becomes heavy and tears start to stream down your cheeks. You hold your head in your hands before you feel a presence beside you.

He doesn’t say anything, at first. He sits there comfortably, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to sit beside you in this rotted cage. You sniffle, looking up to him. He avoids your gaze.

“I’m afraid of the dark, too.” He says, and it comforts you to know that you aren’t alone.

“Really?” You ask, wiping your eyes.

He doesn’t reply to you. He merely sets his hat down beside him, rests on an old rubbery tire behind the two of you, and closes his eyes.

—

When you’re both in the games, right before the countdown, Reaper speaks to you again.

“Don’t trust anyone here,” he warns you. “And stay close to me.”

You do. And you feel incredibly guilty that you can’t be of much help. But it doesn’t matter, not really.

You find a place to hide out. It’s dark, it’s damp, it’s scary. But it’s safe from the other tributes. You know neither of you can wait this out forever. You know one or the other has to die, or maybe both. But you stay there.

—

It starts as a way to keep warm.

Hours in, the dank room becomes cold. Your dress holds no real protection against the draft flowing into the room, and you shiver. Reaper’s hands ghost over your shoulder, and you jump. He looks at you tiredly.

“If we move close, we can keep warm.” He suggests, and he’s clever for that. So you move towards him, laying down on the hard concrete, your back facing him, and he wraps you in his big arms. His breath fans against your neck, a small sigh leaving him as he presses his hips against you. You feel the comforting lull of sleep.

Things escalate, after that.

With the comforting lull of sleep comes comfort itself. And when one is comforted, one may crave the touch of another. Reaper’s hips are touching you again, but this time they’re moving. He’s hard in his pants, pressing himself up against your ass. You wake with a start when he groans low and throaty in your ear, and your hand moves to slap his shoulder to awaken him.

“Reaper,” you whisper to him, so quiet you don’t even hear yourself. But somehow, he does. His eyes flutter open, looking around now alarmed and worried of a possible intruder. But you just shush him, and tell him that it’s okay. He looks at you then, feeling the way his own body has reacted against his own accord. His gaze turns heavy, and he watches you on lifted elbows as your eyes dart to his crotch.

It’s not intentional.

Really, it’s not. It’s not intentional when your lips land on his, it’s not intentional when his hands grab your arms and guide you into his lap. It’s not.

But it happens. His hands run along the small of your back and then they feel up your chest. It’s too cold to take all of your clothes off, so you don’t.

But kissing him now, you’re starting to feel quite warm.

Your dress is lifted, your underwear pulled down to your ankles, and Reaper is prodding at your entrance with a gentleness that you don’t expect from him. He’s big, something you’re not against but this is your first time so it’s intimidating. It hurts for a moment, with no lubrication except for your wetness, a grating, burning sensation that you really didn’t prepare for. But after a moment, a moment of his hands holding your hips down, a moment of his cock sitting inside your gummy walls, you begin to want more. Your hips slide, your cunt growing wetter than before and his cockhead grazing a spot inside you that feels oh so delicious. You throw your head back, whining out his name with sweetness on your tongue. His hand covers your mouth, shushing.

“You’ll wake them,” he says. “Be a good girl. Be quiet f’me.”

And you can’t help but quiver at that, burying your face into his neck and breathing in his scent. It’s sweat and musk now, but you can still catch a hint of soap and for a moment you’re almost back home. His fingers grip your ass cheeks and he gains leverage underneath you so he can begin to fuck up into you even more harsh. Tears well in your eyes, and he breathes shakily when he sees it.

“Don’t cry,” he mutters soothingly. “It’s all gonna be okay. Just hold onto me.”

You both know that isn’t true, but it’s better to not think about that right now. You hold onto him tighter, cry into his shoulder even though he told you not to. His fingers move down and he rubs small circles into your swollen bundle of nerves, making your legs shake and electric sparks shoot up your spine as you cum. You let out a strangled gasp when it happens, all breathy and sweet. Reaper shutters against you, his balls drawing up tight, and he spills thick ropes inside of you and holds you down onto him to take every last drop. When he rides out those waves of pleasure, he still keeps himself inside. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and grips the fabric of your dress in his hands.

“I’m sorry.” He says to you, and you know what he means.

You lay there with him after that, looking up at the cracked and moldy ceiling. He lets you wrap your legs around his waist and rest on top of him. Your exhausted body forms bruises and your cunt drips with his release as you sleep, but it doesn’t matter— none of it does. You’ll both be dead by morning.

[moonlight-tmd]

Imagine if Bee was that "i know a guy" fella-

Sir, he has not been following rules since his sparklinghood, do you really expect me to believe he has not been on a crime spree with some gang or broke into some governor's place by accident- not following rules gets you places, and with Bee's silver glossa he can talk until he's at the higher position than the one who met him.

Bee has started a humble life as soon as he got drafted to boot camp but that does not mean he didn't have any contacts to spice things up. Some of the folks, employed or students, knew him from the time before- they got him stuff to pull all those pranks n such. I bet Sentinel himself remembers seeing this little slag on a report more than once when he was younger and that's why he doesn't like him.

Bee knows mostly 'Cons but also some shady Autobots- he has his ways with Swindle and Starscream and they consider him a decent mech ot share high grade with. Heck maybe even Megatron himself knows this little frag who's been messing in their magazines and never got caught- and once he did he sweet-talked his way out of it like a pro.

Bee is a master manipulator and he knows it. He's been thru and seen some shit, he knows how it'll all go. He has friends, allies, "enemies" and all that stuff. But none of them dare to kill nor hurt him. The only reason he stopped being a menace is because of Bulkhead- the mech was genuine and caring towards him, Bee didn't have a Spark to lie to him. That's what got him to change and not do as much trouble. (except with the Wasp fella- he was too hostile to be left unattended so Bee has crafted a well-suited lie from the rumours going around camp and Wasp got taken away.)

When he first joined Team Prime he recognized few of the folks, but when they found Prowl he knew instantly they were gonna have fun- the mech had quite a past that the shadier side of Cybertron knew really well. Although Bee had not expected what the mech really was like, he still had his fair share of fun with him.

Once they get on Earth and 'Con's show up tho- ooh that is gold. Bee has heard so much about each and every one of them and knew just the way to talk to them to get them to do what he wants.

It's so funny to watch them go about "fighting" Bee when in reality they are all his puppets that know they fuck up if they spill one word.

It's even funnier when Decepticons kidnaps the group one time and while the 'cons are telling their reports when Megs walks in to see who they brought he just stops and backs up a step to look at this tiny motherfragger all baffled for a solid 10 seconds before facepalming defeated while whispering to himself "Primus why".

The others just see this and look to Bee who has this shit-eating proud grin on his face and he's like "Well, hi Megan! How've you been?" Megatron just sighes and motions Lugnut to take this one to his quarters and he walks away with the "i am tired of this" expression. The next thing they know is that htey're being dumped out in the middle of nowhere and Bee gets gently put down after the ride and given the key to unlock his team's cuffs.

They are so baffled when he tells them the adventure he had once that led him to knowing Megatron- Megs doesn't reciprocate his friendship but Bee doesn't care, he knows Megs can't kill him, Bee has too much of a grip on his mentality to do so. He just prays to never see the mech ever again but sadly, the mech is living on the planet and helping the enemy after the same thing he's after.

What a sad day.

[fellow-fandom-fruitifier]

(@mythicalmagical-monkeyman asked “ROYAL AU?” but it disappeared?.???😭😭 so just pretend I answered the ask rn💀💀)

ROYAL AU!!!

Basically I watched Cinderella & immediately decided I need royalty/borderline fairytale/fantasy AU shadowpeach. SWK is ofc the king & 6EM is apart of a ragtag group of entertainers that call themselves “The Lantern”, they r all sum kind of “”freak”” which is what brought them 2gether. The premise was originally just a feel good story where the Bull Kingdom invites The Lantern to play @ the Sun Kingdom, & SWK falls in luv w/ 6EM & vice versa. But I am incapable of keeping it simple so now there’s ✨lore✨

We have The Lantern (Macaque, Bai He, Peng, Yellowtusk, Azure)

Dragon Kingdom (Ao Lie, Mei, Ao Guang, Mei’s parents, etc)

Sun Kingdom (MK, Wukong, Tang, Pigsy, Sandy, Mo, Guanyin, Nezha)

Bull Kingdom (Demon Bull King, Princess Iron Fan, Redson)

Bone Clan (Lady Bone Demon, Mayor — idk what 2 call him yet)

Spider Clan (Spider Queen, Syntax, Goliath, Huntsman)

(The short writing/WIP below, fair warning I haven’t reread it or anything & this is the 1st draft + it’s old💀💀💀, it’s also kinda just an idea dump so idk how much would actually b canon 2 the AU yet)

The dark and looming forest, something usually eerie enough to send the bravest men running, was made less intimidating by the warm violet fire light. The campfire crackled as the group around it told tales, smiles wide and bellies ready to be filled. The sound of laughter only added to the homey atmosphere.

Peng cackled as Bai He told the story of how Demon Bull King, their closest ally, attempted to court Princess Iron Fan only for her to turn the tables. Sweeping him off his feet instead. The story wasn’t new nor was this the first time it had been told, yet it sent their feathered friend rolling each and every time it was regaled.

Macaque rolled his eyes fondly, lips quirked up in a soft lopsided grin. “Alright,” he said, catching everyone’s attention. “The food is ready. Bring your bowls and get your fill,” he said. Holding up the ladle from the pot strung up above their fire. Several cheers were heard. The more polite few, Azure and Yellowtusk, giving their thanks and the less patient, Peng and Bai He, giving theirs when elbowed from the former.

Macaque rolled his eyes at their antics, scooping the soup from the pot into their clay and wood bowls. “Thank you for foraging Yellow,” he nodded gratefully. Yellowtusk smiled.

“Anything for your cooking brother,” he said with an elegance only he could hold. Bai He nodded eagerly, completely agreeing. Azure admonished her for it, reminding her to eat properly lest she choke. The girl, at the soonest opportunity, maturely stuck her tongue out at him. Causing Peng to snort and actually choke. Yellowtusk patted them on the back.

Macaque smiled warmly at his little ragtag group. They were traveling entertainers. All of them were a freak of some kind, Macaque a shapeshifter who puts on shadow puppet shows. Having been ‘blessed’ with the gift of shadow and the sixth ear from a young age, he’d been sought out and held captive for many years before he’d found Bai He.

Bai He is a winter fae. Winter fae have quite the bad rap and yet she’s the sweetest girl he’s ever met. Brave and compassionate, she cares so brightly for her friends that it’s impossible for them to even doubt their place by her side. Macaque had met her when he’d been captured by the Bone Clan. The two had escaped together and the start of their theater began, turns out she had quite the knack for special effects.

The next to join their small gang was Azure Lion, a griffin cursed to live as part man. Apparently the man had some bad friends back in the day which had led him to his capture, a cage which Bai He and Macaque had freed him from. Azure had proved quite the leader, quickly taking the reins of their group and helping organize shows.

After him had been both Yellowtusk, a great warlock, and Peng, a magnificent harpy. They had encroached on the twos land by accident where Peng had fiercely attacked them. Upon discovering the misunderstanding they’d invited them in as an apology. Rather Yellowtusk invited them in. Turns out the two had been rather bored living on their own and Yellowtusk had always wanted to explore the world. So their three soon became a five.

Peng made a good scout and bodyguard while Yellowtusk knows plenty about medicine. Macaque also valued the warlock's insight when it came to plants. He always had the best ideas for add ons.

In their travels they had made many friends and ally’s. Their biggest ones, as mentioned previously, was the Bull Kingdom. Demon Bull King, a powerful centaur; his wife Princess Iron Fan, an elemental witch that has a deep connection with the wind; and their son Redson, half centaur and half elemental witch who, unlike his mother, has quite a strong connection to fire.

The five had been visiting both for shelter and to perform when an opposing kingdom had attacked. The group had lent their aid in the battle and quickly endeared themselves to the royals. The Bulls even going as far to claim them as family.

Smiling Macaque scooped up some of the mushroom soup and blew on it to cool it down, carefully taking a sip from it. He hummed in satisfaction. Yet another meal made to perfection. The next kingdom they plan to stop by is the Sun Kingdom. Apparently a great ball will be happening and the Bull Kingdom had invited the five to attend and perform, to which they had agreed.

Bai He had been rather ecstatic. According to the forest animals the Dragon Kingdom would be attending, another ally of theirs. Mei, the princess, had almost immediately taken to Bai He and the two became thicker than thieves. Of course not all kingdoms were receptive to their kind so Macaque was just hoping they would be welcome in the Sun Kingdom. While he wasn’t positive he would take his Bull brothers word for it.

After finishing the soup Bai He gathered up the dirty dishes, grumbling all the while as if the chore roster hadn’t originally been her idea. Her bug-like wings quivered as they rid themselves of the dust of the day. Bai He wore a light blue sleeveless top, that always reminded him of frost, with dark blue trimming. She also donned baggy white shorts and darker blue boots tied up with black leather string. The only thing with true color variation was the pink handkerchief holding her long black hair, which had a stripe of white, back from her face. A gift from Mei that the dragon girl said would bring out her warm brown eyes.

Peng had dark teal baggy shorts as well as a purple loincloth held up by a golden belt. A dark green feather sticking out from their black hair pulled up into a high bun. Yellowtusk wore a simple dark purple robe with gold accents, a compliment to his brother's outfit. His white hair is short and tucked back behind his ears with a few loose strands framing his face. While Azure wore skin tight black pants and shirt, which only had one sleeve and was cut diagonally in a way that exposed half of his torso, and finally a golden armored skirt with gold shoulder pads. His ginger hair pulled into two braided pigtail resting in his shoulders.

Macaque himself had a red cloak, a black baggy shirt with even baggier sleeves and gold accents, dark red pants, and black boots also with gold accents. The shapeshifters own short black hair simply slicked back to stay out of his face. The only real thing their clothes had in common was a necklace crafted by Yellowtusk, the symbol was his shadow lantern and each amulet was enchanted with protection wards.

Macaque absolutely did not cry when Yellowtusk handed them out no matter what Peng says. Which is super hypocritical because they totally did.

ANYWAYS!

“Alright!” Azure spoke. Gaining the attention of the group he smiled, clasping his hands together as Bai He came back from the river with the freshly cleaned dishes. “It’s getting late and if we wish to arrive in time we must leave earlier,” he announced. Grumbled agreements rang through the camp as the group pulled out their blankets.

Macaque wheezed as Bai He tackled him, wrapping her arms and legs around him like a koala. “Really?” he groaned. She laughed as he pulled the blankets up over them. The next to lay down was Yellowtusk and Peng, then finally Azure. He closed his fist and the fire went out, their supplies being gathered up by shadows and deposited in their rightful place.

The five gathered up their blankets and pillows for their cuddle pile. Macaque relaxed into the bed as he shifted from his human form to his puma one, wrapping his tail around his sister's ankle in an effort to hug her back. Peng and Azure's wings spread out to cover them all as Yellowtusk whispered a spell of warmth. Soon the gathered heat of his family lulled him to sleep, excited for a full day of performance tomorrow.

——————

Wukong was excited. The neighboring kingdom, the Bull Kingdom, had invited the rather infamous traveling group The Lantern.

[bitchfitch]

So, Conrí and Gwyn went through a few major story iterations before I settled on their current 'Isekai but it's about a giant wolf man trying to get home to his kids while an old wizard and the wizard's roommate slow him down' but I still have all of my original draft fragments and I found one of them again last night and have been kinda. picking at it. Because there was something There.

These two rival kings with a long standing feud between their families. As different as two men can physically be from each other. Notions of honor and revenge and grudgingly respecting the other despite all the bad blood. There's a Vibe.

A massive wolven monster in a snow storm, its fur just as white as the snow. a young man in red who has Everything, and everything to lose.

But I couldn't make it work. for over a year, I couldn't Find It. the angle. The thing that would make this worth telling.

But Finally. FINALLY. I've found the three things that needed to change to make the story work.

1. They don't meet as equals. The wolven king is aged and settled into his throne, his territory thrives under his reign. The human one is young, his crown still sized to fit his father instead of him, his country is at war and he knows they have no hope of winning it if he can't find an ally to fight with them.

2. The wolven king is still an arrogant cock of a man, but his cruelness is heavily tempered by the fact he's only mean when people are looking. The newly crowned kinglet isn't who has wronged Wolf King even if he is going to use him to get back at the rest of the family. Human King's own arrogance is now tempered by his lack of experience, he acts the part but is fully aware that he doesn't know what he's doing and needs guidance from someone who does.

3. The bad blood is that once upon a time Wolf King had a Wolf Queen, and she dumped him for Human King's (much older relative) bc Wolf King sucks and to this day he Still believes she was forced to leave him and not that she just got tired of his shit and left 100% of her own accord.

I haven't come up with names for the secondary and tertiary cast yet but Wolf King is Maelgwn, and human king is Erasyl. When I have time and brain space for it I'm drawing them and bitching about having to name them that instead of Conrí and Gwyn. bc like. These were the characters Those names were chosen for originally and they fit these guys better than the Isekai guys.

[assortedvillainvault]

Disney Villain Polycule Posts Part 4 - DV'Cule SQUAD UP

Holy shit welcome to over 1500 words of actual prose becuase the muse has a glock to my head and won't take no for an answer. This is the first time I've written actual prose since I graduated...three years ago?! MAN. DV'Cule stops for nobody.

Mal's been snubbed politically, and her partners assemble to plan VENGANCE. Enjoy! Under a cut because jesus christ I'm not going to kill your dashboards like that.

“You’re kidding me.”

Jafar shifted in place, eyes locked somewhere in the dark beyond the Underworld throne room. “No.”

“You. Are kidding me.”

“Hades. I like to think I wouldn’t attempt to frame this as something so trivial as a joke.”

Said God of the Dead made to roll his eyes, but Jafar could see the way they kept flicking over to the darkness he himself was trying so intently to parse. He hoped a Cthonic God could see further into it than him.

“I just- what purpose does that serve, y’anno??” He gestured wildly as he spoke, and Jafar can’t help the habitual appreciation for Hades’ long, thin, expressive hands even as most of his energy is aimed toward attempting to fix the situation they’d been dumped into this morning. “It’s so cliché! It’s a repeat so stupid even Snoring Beauty wouldn’t have thought of it! I just- Just- What the hell was the aim here??!”

A cold draft and echoing breath comes from the stairs to their right. “The aim is of no importance.”

They turn toward the Horned King as he ascends the final steps, the foot of his robe sodden with Styx water. “The intent was to insult and it was...successful. What matters-” Jafar narrowed his eyes as bits of charred fur fall from the back of the matted stole. “-is how we move forward from here.”

“Well we know that!” Hades huffed and threw himself onto the raised dais of a throne, snapping his fingers for a flame so the King could begin drying off. A small ‘hmm’ of thanks came from the lich’s chest as he began to gently steam.

Jafar takes the moment to take a deep breath in and out, turning from the window. He makes contact with the King’s eye sockets and finds he can’t even muster up the energy for their usual biting commentary. By Allah, what a day. “...How is she?”

His Majesty sighed. “I suspect it is worse than we initially thought.” Both god and sorcerer suppressed a wince. “She had already destroyed several chambers by the time I was able to reach her. By the time I did she would not acknowledge me, nor respond verbally.”

“Fantastic.” Jafar rubbed at his temples, feeling a migraine coming on.

“...She also seemed to be stuck between forms.”

“Well Shit.”

“Language.” He can’t stop the reprimand before it slips out, an incredible sticking point from being forced to help raise a bratty little princess that made his teeth grind.

Luminous yellow eyes narrowed. “Fuck the Mouse and Fuck You, this is my home and I’ll swear when I feel it’s appropriate. Which is now!” Hades flame roared orange for a brief moment before smoothing back to blue. Jafar doesn’t miss how it remained several feet down his arms and robes.

He feels the fizz of magic under his suddenly forked tongue and makes the effort to swallow it down before he starts spitting venom in the literal sense. No need for that towards his allies. Lovers. Confidants. All of that and whichever.

Hades finally takes notice of the burnt back of the King’s robes. His eyes widen. “Fuck. She, uh, she didn’t..?”

Jafar knows that that is as far as any of them are willing to ask, but holds his breath anyway.

He can’t describe the relief when the King started shaking his head almost immediately. “No, no this was...” he grimaces. “...accidental.” He seems to gather himself, almost as if bracing, and growls. “Part of the ceiling came down. I flinched. Stumbled backward into a brazier and caught alight.” he folds his arms, and Jafar feels his face twist as he catches another whiff of the Styx all but pouring off the lich, ice cold and faintly ringing with voices. “She flung me into the river to put me out. May have miscalculated the force. I was almost thrust upon the shores of Acheron.”

Jafar feels more than sees the air escape Hades lungs and lets him slump back on the throne with no further comment.

That part of their contract is written in blood and stone – they may be villains, but to raise magic, hand and/or weapon against each other would be an instant nullifier, and Jafar knows he’s not the only one afraid that their entire partnership would unravel if but one of them turned on another.

They aren’t good, and they’re well aware of it. One can only hope that keeping this arrangement mutually beneficial keeps it stable. For now, at least.

“I assume Charon was able to fish you out?” he asked. The bony boatman seemed able to materialise out of the river at will.

The unmistakable sound of squelching and popping heralded their final arrival. “Oho no, angelfish, that was all me.” Ursula hefted herself gracefully over the windowsill, tentacle arms braced against the stonework. “His Highness swims like a rock. All that fur doesn’t help.” She snickered. Said undead royalty raised his shoulders in the approximation of a shrug.

“I stopped being able to float about five centuries ago. Were the current not so strong I would have walked back along the river bed. The banks are too sheer to climb up.”

“That’s by design.” Hades grumbled. “You have any idea how many schmucks used to climb out and wander off?? It was a nightmare. The imps used to have to herd them all into the floodplains so I could blast them back in four times a week.”

“Regardless.” Jafar strode forward, before stopping suddenly. “The throne room is twenty stories high. Ursula. Why. The stairs are right there.”

The sea witch inspected her fingernails. “Stairs are for two legs, walls are for eight.” She smacked her lips and grinned. “And I’m not wasting magic on shapeshifting when I can get here and look good at the same time, sweetheart.”

Jafar tried very very hard to not imagine Ursula latched to the ceiling like some kind of vast, malicious, be-tentacled bat and resolved not to walk near to any of the underworlds walls for fear of ambush. Ursula finally seemed to bore of her fingernails and slid further into the room.

“Anyway, I can confirm what the tabloids are blowing bubbles about.” At this her grin dropped. “Invites for the newest arrivals welcome have been issued to everyone.” She glanced at the King and emphasised. “Everyone. Except our Dragon.”

They reabsorb the news with a background of malcontent and dash of something vile.

Maleficent had been seen by the general populace and, eventually, the forces of good as the de facto leader of the Disney Villains for decades. This wouldn’t nearly have rankled so hard if no villains had been invited – that would just be a moral difference and a wish for a quiet party, which they could have left alone.

No. Someone had gone out of their way to not only invite every villain under the sun, including those ignored for decades (no offence to the Horned King, but he kept to himself and when thought of it tended to be with horror), but specifically exclude Maleficent. That’s personal. That’s petty.

That’s downright stupid given that the disrespect shown in exactly the same manner regarding the royal christening of Aurora led to a 16 year curse.

It’s a great big, giant flag absolutely daring her to do something about it.

Jafar gripped his staff so hard his knuckles cracked. “She’s being baited.”

The Horned King’s eyes were already beginning to take on a faint scarlet glow. “The situation requires caution. If she reacts, especially violently, she will lose face, and so will we as a faction.”

“And if she does nothing it tips our hand to our enemies and invites a repeat.” Ursula snarls. The King growled, but did not back down.

“...A united front then.”

They turn to look at him. “The other villains have already seen the jab and will be expecting a riposte. Failing to do so highlights weakness and opportunists within our ranks will not hesitate to explore the new power balance, which is tedious to put down.” He twirls his beard around one finger, not missing the way Hades eyes light up as the elder god cottons on to his line of thinking. “We have kept the nature of our...arrangement obscure enough that reacting as a unit highlights our allyship without revealing anything more than is strictly necessary.”

“It also demonstrates that we are not as separate as the heroes would like to believe, even in matters that do not seemingly concern us individually.” His Majesty nodded. “I am willing to continue with this course of action.”

Hades clapped his hands together, flame crackling. “Get in, cause a scene, block the doors, get some popcorn for Mal’s next level retaliation. Heh, if I didn’t know any better I’d say this is the best date you’ve ever suggested, Jaffy!”

“Don’t call me Jaffy.” His face betrayed him, he can’t stop smiling. A manic thing that made him look wrong in all sorts of lighting. He knew made his partners weak in the knees.

“Aaaalright then.” Hades cracked his knuckles. “HK, Ursie, call up your mens! I’ll get the word out to Sephie and Facilier – feels like Mal’s on the move towards Asphodel so I’ll head out that way and lay out the plan to her, see if she wants us to do anything extra juicy.” He licked his fangs and dropped his voice and Jafar wasn’t going to get weak knees while plotting, he wasn’t, he wasn’t-

“Alright then.” He chuckled, drinking in three faces full of vitriol and malicious compliance. “Let’sssss crash thissss party.”

[tkwritesdumbassassins]

Messy Draft Monday!

I saw @radio-chatter doing this and figured why not.

Monteriggioni.

When she asked about it, she had been enthusiastically told that it had been a fortress, a powerful ally of the Assassins, the seat of the Auditore house, blah blah blah but most importantly for them: a sanctuary, a safe place to lay low. Home. And with that information bouncing around in her head, she had imagined it like the many palazzi in Florence. Or one of the great castles she had spotted peeking out of the hills when riding the train through Tuscany. Grand, adorned in rich colors, and welcoming to any and all visitors. Soon turrets could be spotted, dark and silent guardians for miles around. Then the great walls.

Well, as they ascended the biggest hill where the town had been built, Tristan got her first glimpse at the walled city. And well, honestly? A wave of disappointment struck her, for Monteriggioni was none of those things. It was dark and gloomy and seemed to absorb all the color from the land. It less like the Notre Dame, and more like a setting in a Resident Evil game. Not to be rude to their host, but it was kind of a dump. Cracks formed along the walls, the standards that hung from the battlements were raggedy. 

"...I thought Monteriggioni was an enemy of Florence?" Ezio asked from up ahead. He and his brother were riding next to their Uncle. She was toward the back of the group with Maria and Claudia, which she didn't mind. She hadn't been able to shake the feeling of being observed the entire time. Even now, her skin crawled as if eyes were watching her.

 "Eh." Mario waved a hand dismissively through the air. He had never once looked over his shoulder, whereas Federico seemed to constantly find subtle ways to look over his shoulder.  He meant well, but a part of her wished to snap at him to knock it off. "One year, we're allies, the next, enemies. A convoluted game that changes hands every so often. For now, though, it's a shaky peace, but the Pazzi and their lackeys have been sniffing about more often than I would like."

And now they're going to do it even more with you here. A voice finished within her mind.

The gates that greeted them were huge, albeit a little crooked as they opened for them with a cry from  above their heads.

Some of their escorts dismounted at the stables just outside the main gate, where a young stablehand jogged out and tugged the horses inside. 

The rest of them rode on, and Tristan barely paid attention to the rest of Mario's tour as they went under the arch, blossoming into a main but small square where a lone bare tree stood as a solemn guard in the corner. There was a church on their right that had seen better days, its preacher absently sweeping the steps. He barely registered them as they clip-clopped down the main boulevard. Most of the shops were boarded up, and the ones that were still open were nothing more than sunken shacks selling little wares. Even the houses looked sad and forgotten, looking out with peeling or missing shutters.

[writingdesknashu]

The Other Side of Myth Chapter 47 Conceptualization Post

Hello, welcome once again to Lord Nashu's writing desk. Where I shuffle the mess around and give you a look at the mind behind my creative process. It's been a couple of weeks since The Other Side of Myth Chapter 47 came out, and while I've been a little down in the dumps, I think it's long overdue time for a Writing Concept post about this chapter!

Starting this off...

A Strike Against the Seed of an Empire is just a great title. Back in the day, I couldn't write until I knew what the chapter title was. I don't think that changed, though I do change them later title if I don't like them after all. This was not one of those cases though. I needed a chapter title that said, "Diana's fighting in this one." but also one that said, "Things are kicking off." Rocwen is a new character from this draft, introduced to bridge the plot of Kiara's world with the rest of the story. As such he represents a shifting in the global space. The party isn't just fighting to stop the Yoshiki Sect in this arc, they're fighting to stop the birth of the Yoshiki Empire. But he also represents...

World Building

Because Rocwen is old. As the story goes on, readers will come to know that Magdalea and Nandaxia are pretty old worlds themselves, that have been through several phases before this current point. Rocwen comes from a phase when the Serpent Dynasty (now called the Orchid Triumvirate) had a strong chance of being one of the rulers of the world. He was essential to that too, serving as an ally that anti-demon magic and tools couldn't best. We got a bit of this from him in some of the previous chapters, establishing how demons were once the ruling body of the Dynasty, and how Jade Warden (the triumvirates demon slayers) were once one of the many forces trying to dismantle the dynasty.

In this chapter, we get more about how he lived during those times, sharing his bed with beautiful women and thinking about one beautiful man in particular. Ruelin, who is also new to this draft, was more a scholar at the time, and what he teaches Rocwen leans into an overarching narrative of how the stories magic system shaped the world. We also get mention of the Spirit Princess again, though don't pay too much attention to her. Make a note, but don't pay too much attention. The main focus of this chapter is what knowledge about magic can help you do, which brings us to Diana and...

Runic Magic

Runic magic is something I've been thinking about introducing since the second draft, but I didn't really know if I wanted to implement it heavily into the story. As I moved forward to this one, I got to thinking about how each culture formed their magic understanding differently, and for Diana's homeland of Nithellan (one part of the Greenlands.) magic was formed through runes. There's some deep lore to that, but on the surface of it, I knew I didn't want it to be an unknown language. Magic's earliest stage in the world was more wild, so I wanted runes to reflect that. I also wanted them to reflect that scholars in Nithellan thought they were a language. My decision was to lean into iconographic languages, rather than phonetic ones. The way runes are strung together as tunes or ballads is meant to invoke this idea that each rune is a picture that comes together to tell the story of a spell.

How do you tell that story? I implied it at best in this chapter, since Diana does her work then goes to the fight, but the idea is that each rune has to have some sort of narrative bond. Take these for example:

Carefully drawn with a mouse in paint, you see what I'll call the narrative principle of runic magic. The direction doesn't matter, but the order does. Diana tries writing the second runic tune first, but out of order. The top is medium growth the bottom is mountainous blast. Before the eureka hits her, she just knows what this runes do, not what they symbolize so she writes it as "mountain blast->medium growth." which can't form a narrative principle. As it's written here though it goes "medium growth->mountainous blast." and the principle can be read like, "Something grew into an strong blast." The "something" is usually energy, but that mostly goes without saying.

"Well, daring Lord Nashu, why couldn't it be read as "the blast grew into something strong?" Because the runes have to "capture" the energy first. Worth note, the first tune has a different narrative structure. "The sea launched a blast of lightning." Illustrating a principle of observing a storm. There's some meat in there about how tunes differ in their structure based on the period they were written in. The left being more primal while the right is more mechanical. But we could sit here and talk about runic principle all day! We shouldn't though, because we still haven't talked about...

The Fight

Having both thought about how their knowledge of magic can help them grow stronger, Diana encounters (Scarecrow Spirit) Rocwen and the battle starts. There's quite a bit of world building in the banter too. Like Rocwen calling Diana's homeland the "old Angel country." And how that tells her immediately how old he must be. There's also how he notes that mages nowadays don't need to use incantations, nor need someone to protect them. That leans into a central narrative of OSoM about how "Magic on Magdalea progressed like Technology on Nandaxia." Pulleys and levers go from being human powered to machine powered, but magic. I like it though, as well as how the fight itself plays out.

Rocwen shows how scary he is through how he effectively makes the scarcrow spirit's body his own. He has essentially become that spirit and can effectively use its fear magic against Diana. Diana for her part knows that fear magic is mostly in the mind and tries to calm herself, but also knows the fear is triggered by your perception. It doesn't do her a lot of good when the fear pollen gets into her system, but that strange detection ability of hers comes up again, letting her detect Rocwen without having to perceive him.

Combining her new runic knowledge with the sealing techinique Keigo taught her before, she uses Striker Drumming: Second Verse to overcome Rocwen's lesson in magic, but not quite stop his plans. Still, things are underway as she sends a note to the others. And Diana takes a step closer to being strong enough to find her older sister....

Overall?

I was satisfied with everything I did in this chapter, managing to check a lot of boxes that I wasn't even aware of. As I use Rocwen more I come to better establish parts of the world, and I like that this arc has changed from just a battle with demons (as it was in previous drafts) into a battle that fills in the blanks of the Serpent Dynasty/Orchid Triumvirate. More of those blanks will be filled in as the arc goes on. Meanwhile, Diana takes a step further in her journey, and considering what i have planned for her, I'm easily excited.

This post ended up being pretty hefty though...so let's close this off. When I clear things off on the writing desk, I would be delighted if you were to join me, once again.

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 3.1 (after 1930)

1932 – Aviator Charles Lindbergh's 20-month-old son Charles Jr is kidnapped from his home in East Amwell, New Jersey. His body would not be found until May 12. 1939 – An Imperial Japanese Army ammunition dump explodes at Hirakata, Osaka, Japan, killing 94. 1941 – World War II: Bulgaria signs the Tripartite Pact, allying itself with the Axis powers. 1942 – World War II: Japanese forces land on Java, the main island of the Dutch East Indies, at Merak and Banten Bay (Banten), Eretan Wetan (Indramayu) and Kragan (Rembang). 1946 – The Bank of England is nationalised. 1947 – The International Monetary Fund begins financial operations. 1950 – Cold War: Klaus Fuchs is convicted of spying for the Soviet Union by disclosing top secret atomic bomb data. 1953 – Soviet Premier Joseph Stalin suffers a stroke and collapses; he dies four days later. 1954 – Nuclear weapons testing: The Castle Bravo, a 15-megaton hydrogen bomb, is detonated on Bikini Atoll in the Pacific Ocean, resulting in the worst radioactive contamination ever caused by the United States. 1954 – Armed Puerto Rican nationalists attack the United States Capitol building, injuring five Representatives. 1956 – The International Air Transport Association finalizes a draft of the Radiotelephony spelling alphabet for the International Civil Aviation Organization. 1956 – Formation of the East German Nationale Volksarmee. 1958 – Samuel Alphonsus Stritch is appointed Pro-Prefect of the Propagation of Faith and thus becomes the first U.S. member of the Roman Curia. 1961 – Uganda becomes self-governing and holds its first elections. 1962 – American Airlines Flight 1 crashes into Jamaica Bay in New York, killing 95. 1964 – Villarrica Volcano begins a strombolian eruption causing lahars that destroy half of the town of Coñaripe. 1964 – Paradise Airlines Flight 901A crashes near Lake Tahoe, Nevada, killing 85. 1966 – Venera 3 Soviet space probe crashes on Venus becoming the first spacecraft to land on another planet's surface. 1966 – The Ba'ath Party takes power in Syria. 1971 – President of Pakistan Yahya Khan indefinitely postpones the pending national assembly session, precipitating massive civil disobedience in East Pakistan. 1973 – Black September storms the Saudi embassy in Khartoum, Sudan, resulting in the assassination of three Western hostages. 1974 – Watergate scandal: Seven are indicted for their role in the Watergate break-in and charged with conspiracy to obstruct justice. 1981 – Provisional Irish Republican Army member Bobby Sands begins his hunger strike in HM Prison Maze. 1990 – Steve Jackson Games is raided by the United States Secret Service, prompting the later formation of the Electronic Frontier Foundation. 1991 – Uprisings against Saddam Hussein begin in Iraq, leading to the deaths of more than 25,000 people, mostly civilians. 1992 – Bosnia and Herzegovina declares its independence from Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. 1998 – Titanic became the first film to gross over $1 billion worldwide. 2002 – U.S. invasion of Afghanistan: Operation Anaconda begins in eastern Afghanistan. 2002 – The Envisat environmental satellite successfully launches aboard an Ariane 5 rocket to reach an orbit of 800 km (500 mi) above the Earth, which was the then-largest payload at 10.5 m long and with a diameter of 4.57 m. 2003 – Management of the United States Customs Service and the United States Secret Service move to the United States Department of Homeland Security. 2005 – In Roper v. Simmons, the U.S. Supreme Court rules that the execution of juveniles found guilty of any crime is unconstitutional. 2006 – English-language Wikipedia reaches its one millionth article, Jordanhill railway station. 2007 – Tornadoes break out across the southern United States, killing at least 20 people, including eight at Enterprise High School.

[littlewalken]

jan 22

Watched Weyoun 6 again and I think y'all might be missing out on the idea that the Great Link does die out and Odo becomes the Last Founder and has to take over The Dominion. Immediately he'd dump the Cardassians and any other allies this side of the wormhole and take The Dominion back to the gamma quadrant to await whatever's coming.

Laas comes after Weyoun 6 so it's up to the writer if he becomes a part of anything and decides to take over The Dominion for himself.

I have got to say this game of let's distract ourselves from boredom by going to Imagination Land and coming back with writing ideas is working out great and I would like to encourage my brain to keep it up.

One thing I kind of can't do any faster is get to the greater batch of my art supplies. Just printed out a great reference picture of Sid I want to do on toned paper.

I could always buy more art supplies but with all I have it could only be a set of Mondeluz browns and tanned mixed media paper at the moment, no more shipping to this address, and the store that might have them is a day trip away.

Still have my mechanical pencil book so I can draw it, just not in the way I have visioned yet. Really want to use the soft drawing clay pencils or even get out the pastels and conte.

And we have to cut down because there's the possibility that even our beds go in to storage and we have to spend a night in a hotel for reasons of plot complications. The BJDs will start trickling in soon along with most of my clothes and a few other odds and ends.

It will only be for a few days not a few months, just having a purse won't be "too much stuff", you have two people in a mini van and don't have to make room for someone else's giant bag of things they won't even touch the whole trip.

I never put much thought to it before that a move could be healing but there is no other way for this one to be because the last one won the price for shitty. Even the apartment knows it's shitty, altho it's doing its best, and pretty much belongs to the earwigs now.

More rewriting the Spider-Man CYOA notes, the main timeline which I will then make deviations from. Decided that if I strip the Hollywood story back down to its bare bones in notes that the current version can stay. Usually a bare bones means a total replacement. It took a few years for me to toss the final comic book version of the boy band story and I can't remember if I have the gay guys one in that form but everything else goes scorched draft with each newer one.

Mostly its because I think, for now, I do have a pretty decent thing going, and it's the longest I've written yet. Only if the subsequent rewrite really does change everything for the better can the past one go.

But it also serves as a bit of a copywrite because of the metadata on the file and its modified dates.

[this-is-ally-and-im-confused]

10 quirks of dating Nolan Patrick

tags: @snugglyducklingbrewhouse @cartahhart79 @owenpwr @oowenpowerr @hockeyboysarehot join the taglist!

Warnings: mentions of fighting and w33d (blink and you'll miss it)

This man is CONSTANTLY stealing your hair ties, scrunchies, and he’ll even steal your HEADBANDS. Yet, he will never admit to it.

Personal space? Nope. Not even a question with Nolan. He is a giant that believes he is small spoon sized, and that’s okay.

You are the only person allowed in the same room as Nolan during a migraine. Do you know how you got this special status? No, but it is gladly accepted.

Nolan was the first person you ever smoked weed with. It was during the off-season and you were curious about the hype. He stayed sober so he could watch you for the first little bit. You watched him nervously as he prepared the joint. His finger worked nimbly. “It’s gonna hurt to inhale. Take it slow, okay?” He reminded as he passed the bud to you. It sucked at first. Your lungs burned, and your eyes watered. But soon enough the floaty feeling set in. Nolan looked so pretty and cuddle-able. You found yourself plopped into his arms as he fed you snacks and watched over you.

Nolan is shy. You are probably the one who does most of the talking. But if you are anxious (like me) Nolan will gladly do the ordering of coffees, the talking with relatives, and the other (sometimes) scary things.

Dates are usually at home with Nolan. Loud places can trigger migraines, and home with you is where he’s happiest.

When you guys aren’t at home for your dates…FISHING AND CAMPING DATES!! You get to see Nolan be his real self. He also loves teaching you things about nature as you plan about your future.

I feel like Nolan is loud when he gets into fights. You guys rarely ever fight but when you do…it’s loud. Nolan would never hurt you. If anything he just leaves the room. And if you were to ever get scared by his yelling or fighting–he’d breakdown. Softly murmuring “I’m so sorry” and “I love you” repeatedly into your neck.

Nolan is most definitely the type of person to suck at giving gifts. But he's also amazing at it too?!? Like he didn't get you the exact thing you wanted for your birthday but instead, he got you what you needed. He's a classic guy. He can spend tons of money on you OR he can make sure that you have everything you need. But to be honest–he spoils the shit out of you too.

You are most definitely walking down the aisle to a Mt.Joy song (silver lining or witnes). Probably live because of Nolan and Matt Quinn’s friendship. Oh, and Nolan lets out a few tears. You guys have dreamt of your wedding day since the first few months together.

[http-tokki]

— ୨୧₊˚ katsuki bakugou

ᰔ one-shot: 1k + word count ᰔ drabbles: less than 1k word count ᰔ thirsts and thoughts: less than 500 word count ᰔ

All triggers/content will be tagged/ in description.

‧₊˚✧[one shots]✧˚₊‧

coming soon

‧₊˚✧[drabbles]✧˚₊‧

where are you going? (sfw) im trying to thank you (nsfw) latex and baby powder (sfw) happy birthday, pretty girl (sfw) youre...its's dynamight (sfw) katsuki walking on you in the shower (sfw) this is my best friend, katsuki and he's an ally (sfw)

‧₊˚✧[imagines]✧˚₊‧

you are my dream (sfw) christmas party 2023 (sfw) need'a pee (nsfw) everywhere i go, i keep a picture in my wallet even as a worm? (sfw) gum (sfw) sharing cake? (sfw) katsuki comes home late (nsfw) really? never? (nsfw) you were meant to be mine v 1.0 v 2.0 (nsfw) domestic headcanons (nsfw) sfw domestic headcanons katsuki and his black tank top (nsfw) who hurt you? (sfw) bakusquad shenanigans part one it's just head (nsfw) best friend katsuki (nsfw) hugging 'suki (sfw) chapstick (sfw) im hungry, can you hurry up (sfw) i bet i could make you finish (nsfw) you get jealous (nsfw) do you need help fixing it? (nsfw) protective bestie katsuki (sfw) you needed me (sfw) one day, but not today (sfw)

‧₊˚✧[draft dumps]✧˚₊‧

christmas party (sfw) you were supposed to be the one (sfw)

‧₊˚✧[links]✧˚₊‧ home ᰔ ask ᰔ tags

[siriuscatbennett]

The First Avenger info dump because I can

Enlistment/Dog Tags/Awards:

It is canon that Bucky Barnes enlisted on his own right after Pearl Harbor (and Steve tried). This would make his dog tags a type two. His service number would start with a 1 (enlisted army soldier) and a 2 (from New York). This site can be used to generate dog tag numbers (I haven’t tried all the functions, but be aware the O for officers is a 0 starting in 1942). 

During WW2 (amongst other times), there was the Regular Army and the Army of the United States (which no longer exists). Voluntary enlisted men were in the Regular, with draftees in the other (officers were often part of both and had two separate ranks). If you choose to divert from canon and make Bucky a draftee (I personally have always liked this fanon because I’m evil), his service number would start with 32 (drafted, New York). This would also better explain why Bucky rises to the rank of Sergeant so quickly as promotions happened constantly in the AUS ( Dwight D. Eisenhower rose from a colonel to five-star general in three years). 

Steve would have a different type of dog tags than Bucky (including a different chain). He would have a type three (as would anyone between July 20, 1943 and March 31, 1944). I will illustrate the differences below with the custom tags I made for Steve's sister and Bucky in my fanfic (feel free to use the info from them). The N and 7 in her tag are for nurse.

The T42 you’ll see below is the year tetanus shots were recieved. I’ve seen some with two years and some with one. The B is blood type and the P is religion. 

Steve received an award for rescuing the POWs. Seeing as this wasn’t presented by the president, I’ve decided it was the Distinguished Service Cross. This award comes with a $2 pay raise; as a Captain, Steve previously made $200 a month, paid monthly (post-serum). Bucky made $78 as a Sergeant, with a $3.90 pay raise after 3 years of service (December 1944). Steve also obtained SSR pins after joining them (and I believe the Howling Commandos should have as well). (Even though nurses had the rank of an officer, they didn’t get equal pay until after WW2. They earned $70 a month for the first 3 years.)

Many soldiers put their second dog tag in their boot, usually slipped on the shoe laces in between the tongue and top of the shoe.

Not a fact, but I will add a link here to a website where you can either buy Bucky/Steve’s dogtags or make custom ones for $10 (personally, I would advocate for the custom as Bucky’s say he’s not from NY and show he is a draftee. Also, he has type B blood, not O. And Steve is Protestant, not Catholic. The site also states officer’s service numbers didn’t start with 9, but those with special duties did. His service number would most like be between 800000 and 999999, starting with a 0- to show he’s an officer).

Sister: Margaret E Rogers N-724669 T42 B                         P

Bucky: James B Barnes 12831412 T42 B Margaret Rogers (next of kin) 1404 Alameda Ave (next of kin address) Brooklyn NY     P (address, religion)

Italian Front:

Seeing as the 107th were venturing to England in June 1943, they most likely headed straight to Sicily from there (or diverged if they had fuel) to aid in the invasion, continuing into the invasion of the mainland before pushing troops back toward Austria. Italy surrendered at the very beginning of the invasion of the mainland, so the Allies only fought Nazis and Italian soldiers loyal to Mussolini (National Republican Army), who was arrested during the invasion of Sicily and broken out during the mainland invasion. Seeing as Chester Phillips and Peggy were with Steve, they must have joined the 107th later. In my canon, they (and Howard) join at the beginning of the mainland invasion. 

AM-lira (Allied-Military Currency), 100 "am-lire" for a U.S. dollar, was the currency specifically put into circulation for Allied Military after the landing in Sicily. It was used interchangeably with their normal currency. Once the Howling Commandoes join the SSR, they use British currency. 

The 107th’s camp pre-Battle of Azzano was most likely behind the  Volturno Line. Azzano is part of Umbria, which was about 170 miles into enemy territory. 

Post-Azzano, the camp was most likely behind the Barbara Line. Walking approx 533 miles from Kreuzberg, Austria, with troops alternating resting periods in the trucks, walking approximately 42 miles for 12 hours a day, they would reach camp in thirteen days.

Random:

Steve’s canon address according to Avengers is 1404 Alameda Ave. Brooklyn, NY 11362. This is a Queens zip code. I changed it to 11237.

As a Sergeant, Bucky would command a squad of 12 soldiers (privates), split into 3 fireteams. He was also assigned a PFC (one of the scout riflemen) as an assistant; this soldier could serve as either the squad leader's messenger to the platoon commander or could be used to relay orders to other squad teams, as needed. Sergeants are responsible for the individual training, personal appearance and cleanliness of their soldiers, and are expected to set a standard for lower-ranked soldiers to live up to.

Women did have their own army sect for part of the war (Women’s Army Corps) but they didn’t go overseas as they didn’t legally get benefits overseas {I didn’t read a lot on this, take this with a grain of salt}. They did all the non-fighting jobs like listening to radio transmissions and fixing weapons. 

On the ship, there were three-tier bunks. Enlisted men got footlockers under their beds (you could lift up the base), while officers got standing lockers. I would assume water on ships was cold, filtered from the ocean, and they had showers.

Showers were available but not popular at this time, just like hot water heaters. Many people still boiled water to take baths. People also didn’t bathe as often and there was only one kind of shampoo and no conditioner. Women made their own concoctions, used soap, or straight up would do egg masks. Hair was kept clean by doing the “100 strokes” with a hairbrush that was cleaned after every use. Indoor heating also wasn’t used everywhere, leaving many places still using things like fireplaces and wood stoves.

Soldiers used latrines in WW2. They also used a bucket of water and a bar of soap to wash. When water was unavailable and snow was, it was melted and used. They could also simply use things like rivers and lakes if available but if unnecessary, weren't used as lice was prevalent along with disease. Clothes weren't washed often (depending on the situation, some men went weeks without washing their uniform, only changing into dry socks when necessary) but when they were, they were boiled in big pots of water in mass and hung on a line to dry (there were also other ways, but I preferred this one). They carried an extra shirt, socks and laces, water canteen, ammunition, a spade, grenades, a gas mask, food rations, a cup, a wash kit (toothpaste, razor, comb, etc), first aid pouch, and a helmet (usually on their head) in their haversack's/on their belt (and rations, of couse). There was also a tent pack, but most soldiers would simply carry a raincoat. Lots of candles and oil lanterns to light the night. Canvas water bags – also known as Lister bags – were hung around camps and used for dispensing drinking water in which a dose of chlorine was added for purification.

Medical:

Morbidity from such diseases as tuberculosis (anti-tuberculosis agents didn’t begin to appear until 1949), rheumatic fever, typhus, dysentery, and malaria were high. There were tuberculosis quarantine wards separate from the other patients and were eventually evacuated. Frostbite was also common during the cold. Hepatitis A and B were also prevalent. Trench foot was also common, sometimes leading to jungle rot (often referred to as 'the creeping cruds'). PTSD was known then as 'battle fatigue'; men showcasing symptoms were often just given rest and food near the front lines and would normally rejoin the fight in a few days or were evacuated if necessary. All soldiers were vaccinated against tetanus, typhoid, smallpox, cholera, and yellow fever before shipping out. Dental hygiene was extremely important and many field hospitals were equipped with dental prosthetics. 

Food:

A-Rations referred to fresh/refrigerated meats, bread, and vegetables, prepared in mess halls. These meals were basically the same as C-rations, but fresh and always warm.

C-Rations consisted of one M-unit (12 oz can, meat), one B-unit (12 oz can, bread/dessert), and an accessory pack. Each daily ration consisted of three M-units, three B-units, and three accessory packs (one for each meal). The cans were made of tinplate. The cans had a gold lacquer finish. C-rations can be eaten cold or hot and were cooked with a Coleman's pocket stove (which was made specifically for WW2 soldiers).

M-units initially had three kinds: meat and beans, meat and potato hash, and meat and vegetable stew. In 1943, meat and spaghetti in tomato sauce was added; along with meat and noodles, pork and rice, frankfurters and beans, and chicken & vegetables in 1944. 1944 also brought a chopped ham, egg, & potato unit and compressed cereal B-units to replace meat & vegetable hash.

B-units contained crackers, three sugar tablets, loose candy (Brach's chocolate caramels, candy-coated peanuts/raisins, Charms hard candy), and a packet/small can of beverage mix (instant coffee, powdered lemon drink, or bouillon soup powder). Orange drink powder was added in 1944. Due to spoilage, the loose candy was replaced in 1944 with a Brach's fudge disk or a Jim dandy.

Accessory packs (brown butcher paper) contained sugar tablets, water purification tablets, a flat wooden spoon, a piece of candy-coated chewing gum, three 3-packs or one 9-pack of cigarettes, a book of 20 moisture resistant matches, a paper-wrapped P-38 can opener (with instructions that everyone immediately throws out), and about 22.5 sheets of toilet paper. Cigarette brands included Camel, Chelsea, Chesterfield, Craven A-Brand, Lucky Strike, Old Gold, Philip Morris, Player's, Raleigh, and Wings (these were traded constantly). Can openers were meant to be disposable but soldiers wore them on their dog tags for later use either with opening cans or other things (clean muddy boots, screw screws, open letters, strip wires, trim loose thread, and sharpen pencils). 

Seriously. They really gave every single soldier three can openers a day. With printed instructions. During metal rationing. Of which soldiers just put them on thier dog tag chains for later use. Where did all these excess can openers go? And why half a sheet of toilet paper? 

Clothes:

The nurses wore an olive drab service jacket and skirt (they are seen in pants as well) and cap, khaki shirt and tie, and brown shoes (wore nursing shoes or boots). The rank insignia (a single gold bar for second lieutenants, the vast majority of nurses) was worn on the epaulets. A gold "U.S." pin was worn on each collar, and a gold caduceus with a red N was worn on each lapel. Whenever the service jacket wasn't worn, the rank insignia was pinned to the right collar, the caduceus on the left.

Soldier’s field uniforms looked like this (with some adjustments based on gun used). And yes, the leggings are neccessary, they helped keep feet dry: 

The layout I made for Steve��s apartment (there are 2 beds and dressers in the spare room because Bucky lives there too, feel free to change this):

These aren’t all the links I used, because I’ve gone through a lot, like a lot, but here are the ones I saved that are relevant (I don’t like using wiki but I cross-checked any info stated above):

https://www.google.com/amp/s/screenrant.com/winter-soldier-mcu-complete-timeline-bucky-barnes/amp/ https://movies.stackexchange.com/questions/65170/how-did-bucky-get-the-rank-of-sergeant https://marvel-movies.fandom.com/wiki/Steven_Rogers https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Italian_campaign_(World_War_II) https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_invasion_of_Sicily https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_invasion_of_Italy https://history.amedd.army.mil/booksdocs/wwii/medsvcsinmedtrnmnrthrtrs/chapter6.htm https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Squad https://www.reddit.com/r/AskHistorians/comments/4j8zos/pay_of_american_gis_during_world_war_ii/ https://blogs.stockton.edu/womeninwwtwo/womens-military-involvemnt/womens-nurse-corps/#:~:text=The%20pay%20of%20members%20in,per%20month%E2%80%9D%20(2). https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Service_number_(United_States_Army) https://www.med-dept.com/articles/u-s-army-ww2-dog-tags/

Find me on Wattpad here where all of this information and more will be compiled in a Bucky Barnes series with mediocre writing (coming soon). 

[mooniefics]

just one night

pairing : reiner braun / reader

word count : 2.9k

tags : fluff, angst, heartache, acknowledgement of reiner’s suffering </3

summary : being a field nurse had it's ups and downs, but everything about taking care of reiner braun was the best and worst thing about your job.

— originally posted 12 / 16 / 20 on ao3 —

"oh, you're finally awake." you set the tray of medical supplies in your hands down on the small desk beside the bed, shutting the privacy curtain before you returned to his side, "i was worried about you, you know?"

though most of his body had regenerated over the seven hours he'd been unconscious, he was still missing a majority of his right hand up to the wrist, the steaming, incomplete appendage he was now examining with a tired look on his face.

"what time did they bring me in?" his voice was husky with sleep, eyes low as they flitted over to look at you.

"around eighteen hundred hours yesterday," you said, placing the back of your hand on his forehead to check his temperature, "i administered some pain meds a few hours ago, but let me know if you need any more."

being a field nurse for the marleyan army wasn't the easiest job in the world, mostly consisting of lots of running around in the trenches with your heavy kit and avoiding as much gunfire and blood splatter as you possibly could while still helping the wounded. you had volunteered to work soon after the conflict with the mid-east allied forces had begun, seeing as it was either that or see your father be drafted out into the eldian unit to become cannon fodder like so many of the soldiers you'd seen barely able to crawl their way back over the sandbags just to bleed out and die before you could even begin to assess their injuries. you stopped keeping count of how many people you couldn't save after your first few days of active combat, becoming more focused on not going insane from how little you slept due to the rumbling of the ground from enemy artillery that shook the walls of the underground quarters and reading the letters your family sent from back home to maintain a shred of morale for the future.

though, the job did have some perks. it was always honorable for eldian families to have someone enlisted, and it also meant you could support your parents with your minuscule paycheck from the government. and, of course, meeting reiner braun was the biggest plus of them all, though you probably wouldn't admit it if anybody asked. you were a hard worker, and evidently had enough natural skill to quickly be promoted to the position that you were at now, assigned as one of the few nurses who monitored the wellness of the warriors and their prospective candidates.

"my regeneration has been slowing down lately, i should have more of my hand back by now." reiner murmured, more to himself than you.

"of course it has, you haven't been eating as well as you should be. i don't know much about titan biology, but i do know that a soldier like you, a warrior no less, shouldn't live off of sandwiches and beer, you've been losing too much weight."

he chuckled, a quick smile flitting across his face before he returned to his previous sulk. "you sound like my mother, chiding me about how i need to take care of myself. isn't there other patients that need your attention?"

"you wish. me and another nurse have already taken care of this entire hall, and you, mr. celebrity, get a room all to yourself." you grabbed a pen and his chart, scribbling down a few notes about his current status while you spoke, "plus, i'm supposed to be checking up on you every hour until you're all put back together, magath's orders."

he paused, thinking to himself before speaking. "so does that mean galliard is ok?" you nodded.

"and pieck?" you nodded again.

"and zeke?" you sighed, but reaffirmed once more.

"you've been checking up on me all night by the looks of it. aren't you tired?"

"gosh reiner, would it kill you to focus on yourself for a minute?" you rolled your eyes at his confusion, pulling up the chair at the desk to his bedside and seating yourself down, "this is my job, i'm used to doing my job. in fact, this is one of the easiest nights i've had in weeks. i don't know about you, but it shocks me that the guy they blew to pieces yesterday afternoon is asking me if i'm the one that needs to get some rest."

his brow furrowed, mouth drawing into a small frown. "sorry. i know that the war has been hard for all of us. i just don't want to make it any harder for you than it's already been."

you couldn't help but smile at his genuine concern, planting your elbows on your thighs and resting your chin in your hands. "you don't have to worry about bothering me, reiner." you replied softly, playfully adding, "you know you're my favorite patient anyways" just to see his cheeks flush red.

"is that so?" he murmured in reply, now smiling with you as he met your gaze.

"maybe." you teased, leaving him hanging for a few moments before you continued, "galliard's always awkward when i'm in the room, jaeger never has much, if anything, to say, and pieck, she's nice to be around, but she always looks so tired i feel a bit bad when i chat for too long with her. so, if it's anyone i'm stuck on the night shift with, i'm glad it's you."

you laughed softly at his expression, feeling a bit sheepish under his gaze. he'd changed quite a bit over the two years you'd known him, the shadows under his eyes deepening with a clear exhaustion, cheekbones becoming more pronounced and face growing gaunter as the stress of the war withered away at his physical and mental wellbeing. before you personally met, you'd always seen reiner as the physical embodiment of marley's armor, with his sturdy, unyielding frame, towering over nearly everyone he met from his stature, and the iron will that never seemed to falter no matter how many times he returned broken to the barrack's infirmary.

but now, you could see how everything had been taking a toll on him, how he was growing thinner and weaker each time he returned from a successful military assignment. you had come to learn that despite his regenerative properties, he felt every bit of pain that came with the injuries he sustained, experiencing the absolute agony of having his limbs shredded and bones shattered by cannon fire in his titan form and still having to push forward on the battlefield. you had an immense respect for him and his unyielding nature, but you always worried. even though you knew he would always manage to get himself back together again, you always worried for him. you remembered how you felt as you peeked over the sandbags, watching with a mixture of awe and dread as reiner threw himself in front of jaeger at the last moment to shield him from the unexpected volley of naval artillery, the way your heart thundered so loudly in your ears at the sight of his titan crumpling.

the relief you felt upon being ordered to his hospital room and finding him still alive was indescribable, and the relief you felt now being able to talk to him, to stare into his tired eyes and take in his handsome features you'd become so familiar with, flushed softly from your playfully exchanged words— you didn't want to see him go again.

"l-let me go get you a blanket," you said, snapping yourself out of your unnecessary thoughts, "i packed it away since i didn't want the steam to overheat you, but now that its just your hand and ankle i think it'll be ok to let you have it back now."

you quickly got up from your seat and slipped past the privacy curtain, opening up the supply cupboard with sheets and extra clipboards and things of the sort to pull out the blanket you'd originally taken off of him and put away.

you had to control yourself, to stop letting yourself be distracted by these thoughts and concerns about him. you knew as well as anyone else in marley that he didn't have long left to live. you hated that everyone referred to it as his 'term', as if after two years passed he could return home to live a peaceful life away from the war and bloodshed, to enjoy the luxuries of a normal existence that had been snatched away from him from the very start of his life. he only had two years left before he had to be eaten by one of those children, children that had similarly had their innocence and adolescence stolen from them by the marleyan government. you had told yourself over and over to not let yourself get so close to him, to not trick yourself into believing that maybe something could work between the two of you after marley's greed for natural resources had been sated and all the nations were finally at peace.

but you knew better than anyone that these feelings had been growing out of control, and each day you spent tending to him, watching him out on the battlefield, finding more and more about who he truly was besides a soldier only fed the fire you'd been fighting between fueling and snuffing out for months now. taking in a deep breath, you forced a smile onto your face, not wanting to concern him with an upset expression and risk dumping all your pathetic emotions out under his scrutiny.

"here we are." you hummed, flapping out the blanket a few times before you stretched it over his lap.

for a moment your face was close to his, close enough to see the small brown spots freckling his golden irises and realize just how intently he was gazing at you. you quickly retreated back to your seat at his bedside, still feeling his stare lingering on you, stopping yourself from asking him what was interesting enough to make him look at you for so long.

for another moment, there was silence, and you debated on making up some excuse to leave the room, but you knew you would have to come back in an hour, and he most likely wouldn't be asleep by then, but he spoke before you could think up any other escape plans.

"you know, i was happy to wake up and see you." you felt your heart skip, blinking at him, trying to make sure you weren't hearing things.

"really?" you mustered, feeling your cheeks grow warm at the sight of his smile.

"yes, really." he affirmed, the brightness on his face dampening a bit as he continued, "most of the time when i sleep, i get a lot of... memories, from my time in paradis, and they're not the most pleasant things to see while i'm asleep. and i was having another one of those dreams just now before i woke up, so it was nice to not be alone, you know? it's always reassuring to see you."

you felt a light flutter in your chest, nodding in response, torn between feeling sympathy for his nightmares or happiness from honest words. no, you had to stop being selfish. you had to stop letting yourself play along in this fantastical idea of a happy future.

"y-yeah, i understand," you replied, fixing your gaze down in your lap as you tried to avoid his intention, "i could put in a request for sleeping aids, if restlessness is becoming an issue."

"you know that's not what i'm trying to say." his hand reached out to rest over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, imploring you to stop ignoring the obvious.

"reiner." you said firmly, lips pressing into a firm line, "we can't. i can't."

you could feeling that light, airy joy twisting down into something irksome, settling like lead deep in your stomach as he replied. "what's stopping you?"

"everything!" you snapped, stopping yourself to take a deep breath and regain control of your volume before you began again, "everything.. this war, this never-ending conflict, and.. y-your term, your life-"

"you think i don't know that?" he said softly, too softly, somber gaze flitting between the hand in his grasp and your face. he seemed so small just now, seated up against wall behind the hospital bed that was too little for him, barely covered by the thin, old blanket that was fraying at the seams, not at all like the stoic, unwavering warrior he made himself out to be in the public eye. "don't you think i'm tired of pretending? tired of having people toss the topic of my death back and forth like they're discussing vacation plans? i love marley, and i love what i can do for the people who look up to me, for the people who rely on me to be the hero. you never ask me about paradis, you never ask me about how i feel about all of this, you never expect me to be the hero, and you're still always here to listen, always here when i need you to be. but i just want to feel like i don't have to worry about all that, even if it's just for one night... i know it sounds counterintuitive, but i want to pretend like things will be alright.. for you, for me, for everyone. can't we just have this one night?"

your hand trembled, fingers lacing easily with his like you'd risked doing a few times before, tears pricking your eyes, feeling like there was something cinching around your heart and lungs and squeezing tight. the heat of his hand in yours was pleasant, calloused palm fitting perfectly against the contour of your own, thumb stroking softly over the side of your own hand.

you swallowed your apprehension, steadying your breath and blinking away the mistiness threatening to spill down onto your face as you moved from the chair to take a seat on the side of his bed. "ok. one night."

the relief that bloomed across his expression warmed your heart, the stress that had been creasing his face softening back into the relaxed, sleepy looking smile that you always poked fun at when you brought him his breakfast in the morning.

"you have to be up at seven, so lay down right, i don't want you to complain to me about your back hurting tomorrow." he complied, shifting back down in the bed to rest his head back on the pillow, allowing you to let go of his hand momentarily to tuck the blanket around him. "do you want me to go get you something to help you sleep?"

"no." he murmured, gazing up at you, "just stay here with me, please. i'll sleep just fine as long as you're here."

there was something so childlike about his words, not in the way of immaturity or naivety, but something that just made you want to take care of him, to protect him from the corruption of the world outside of the obsolete confinements of his hospital room.

"i will." you said, letting your other hand find the side of his face, "i promise."

and so you stayed, you stayed as long as he needed you to, alternating between stroking his cheek and slowly running your fingers through his hair. there were no words exchanged, but the silence was comforting, the quietest night you'd both had in weeks, only occupied by the intermittent footsteps of the other nurses making their rounds around the hall and the soft evening breeze blowing through the half-open window above the desk. you didn't care for how long you had to sit there, replying back to the small movements of his hands with your own reassuring squeeze as he slowly but surely fell back asleep. but even after his breathing had steadied out, and his grasp on your hand had loosened, you still stayed seated at his bedside, just gazing down at his sleeping face as your thought to yourself.

the war against the mid-east allied forces had come to a rocky close, most likely guaranteeing marley at least a few months of tension-filled peace before another nation made their strike on their borders once again. but you knew that marley wouldn't wait for that, you knew that they wouldn't stop until they had the world in their hands, paradis included. you'd heard the private murmurs of jaeger before you entered his room, seen the open pages of his journal when he fell asleep at his desk, you knew what he had been planning. and you knew that reiner would have to go running back to the island once again, and even if jaeger's grand scheme didn't drag him there by his collar, he would probably go searching out his own resolution him.

you checked your watch. 2:10. it was your turn to check the patients in critical condition down the hall. you sighed quietly, pulling your hand away from his and leaning down to gently press a kiss on his forehead, something you risked doing a few times before when you had these especially long conversations that made your heart ache for him.

but at least, you thought to yourself as you flicked off the lights, reluctantly leaving the room and shutting the door behind you as quietly as you possibly could, at least you could give him just one night of repose.

[ernmark]

hiya!! happy new year! if you’re taking prompts, could I get a role reversal of sorts for jupeter with juno topping/taking the lead on things? have a great day!!!

I’ve had this fic half-finished and sitting in my drafts folder for a long time, because I didn’t have the headspace or the energy to finish it. 

I appreciate your patience.

---

Peter smooths the lines in his suit and lifts a martini glass in one gloved hand, flashing a smile that he doesn’t mean.

At the “family meeting”, he had leaped at the opportunity to join Vespa on a heist. She was one of his childhood heroes, after all– how many evenings did he spend with one of Mag’s practice knives in hand, pretending to be the legendary assassin? So of course he was eager to show her that he is a worthy ally.

Instead he is here: in this awful, seedy establishment beside a man with far too much ego and far too little good taste, while Vespa is in another building entirely.

He tells himself that it isn’t entirely a waste of his abilities. He’s already slipped the cypher key out of Augustus Aritza’s pocket without him noticing, after all, and there is value in keeping him distracted so that his office can remain empty. Being a part of a team sometimes requires taking on the least glamorous of roles in a heist. 

It still rankles. 

But he is a master, even if he’s being treated like a novice, and he will demonstrate to Vespa and Buddy and all of them that he is capable of doing any job they put before him, even if that means giggling at every banal attempt at wit that drips out of Aritza’s mouth. 

He even manages to keep in character when Juno Steel steps through the front door.

What is he thinking, coming here? He’s supposed to be back on the Carte Blanche, making the evening’s dinner. Is he really so desperate for action that he’ll put the job at risk? At the very least, he could have had the courtesy to call ahead, but the hidden comms in Peter’s ear cuff has been utterly silent.

…As a matter of fact, he hasn’t heard so much as a wry comment over the comms in at least an hour. It hadn’t bothered him until this moment– after all, he’s used to working alone.

He swallows his apprehension and the last of his martini. He’s decided to trust Juno. He won’t go back on that now.

Juno appears at his elbow– his left elbow, to be precise. He’s taken care to keep Peter in his periphery and leave Aritza on his blind side. 

“You look like you could use a refill,” Juno says, rakishly lifting the glass out of Peter’s hand without letting their fingers touch.

Across the table, Aritza stiffens. “Do you mind?” 

“Nope.” Juno doesn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze remains fixed on Peter, but it isn’t stationary. His eye sweeps down to Peter’s heels and back up again, settling on Peter’s face. “What do you say, gorgeous? What are you having?”

His stare is needle-sharp, and Peter is pinned in place, his breath caught in his throat. Juno’s confidence is always a sight to behold, but it is another thing entirely to have the intensity of that confidence turned on him. 

“Black and gold,” Peter manages to say. Their ill-fated heist in Jupiter’s orbit was a few weeks ago, but he still can’t quite rid himself of the memory of Juno in that gown. 

Juno signals the bartender. “Black and gold for the gentleman, Rangian green for me.”

Peter’s expression doesn’t change, but his pulse quickens. Vespa sent Juno? 

The person behind the bar blinks. “I’ve never heard of that last one.”

“How about a Green Ruby, then? Served hot.” He flashes a smile that leaves Peter stunned. “What can I say? It’s my favorite color.” 

“Nobody cares,” Aritza snaps. “Get lost.”

“Yeah, wasn’t talking to you. What do you say, barkeep?”

The bartender glances nervously at Aritza and back. “I… don’t know that one, either.”

Juno snorts. “Seriously? What kinda place is this?”

Aritza leans in with a tightlipped smile. “Maybe you’ll prefer the menu at another establishment.” 

“Great idea.” Juno claps him on the back too hard to be friendly, then leans in close to Peter. “How about you and I get out of this dump and find a place that serves real drinks? I know a guy that makes a mean Jovian tea.”

“Well,” Peter says with a flutter in his voice that isn’t entirely artificial. “With an offer like that, how can I refuse?” 

He takes Juno’s hand, pointedly ignoring Aritza’s muttered “Unbelievable!”. While Juno escorts him to the door, Peter’s gaze sweeps every reflective surface in front of him. Behind them, Aritza sputters furiously at anyone who will listen, and then jumps to his feet and starts after them.

“He’s coming,” Peter whispers under his breath as Juno pulls open the door. “Shall we run?”

The door opens into an alley with only one point of easy exit-- oh, there are several more, to be sure, but none that can effectively hide two bodies within three seconds. And perhaps worst, their getaway vehicle is nowhere in sight.

“Big guy’s circling the block,” Juno mutters. “There’s eyes on him.” And now there is an eye on Peter, dark and sincere as only Juno can be. He has a plan, even if he doesn’t have time to explain it in detail.

Peter gives the smallest nod. I’ll follow your lead, love.

And then he’s flat against the alley wall, so close that the air is crushed from Peter’s lungs and into Juno’s waiting mouth. A rough hand keeps him close even as it cushions Peter’s skull against the unforgiving brick. He only manages a startled gasp before the door opens behind him, and then Aritza steps through. 

Peter sees the moment unfold from two angles simultaneously, viewed with interest by two separate roles. 

The thief in him recognizes the need for escape. Aritza is a fool, but he’s at least partially aware that his power makes him a target. If he catches them fleeing at a run, he’ll know he’s been had, and he’ll sound the alarm. If Vespa hasn’t yet made her escape, that might prove deadly-- though whether to the assassin or whoever finds her is as yet undecided. Not that it matters to Juno.

Aritza might still react violently, of course-- but that’s why Juno left the door on his good side, and why he’s got his free hand on his blaster, conveniently blocked from view by Peter’s leg.

But that’s only the thief in him. The other part-- the role, or the romantic-- is happy to feel the heat of the charging blaster so near his thigh. It’s a dangerous place to put a dangerous toy, but he trusts his detective not to hurt him. And if the thief in him feels that Aritza needs some more convincing about this display, well, the other is happy to fumble at Juno’s belt. 

He moans-- loud enough to be heard from the door, but not so loud as to drown out Aritza’s disgusted grunt and the swing of unoiled hinges. 

Juno keeps the act going for a few moments more, kissing him like he’s forgotten how to breathe, and Peter is blissfully, helplessly pinned beneath him--

And then all too quickly the Ruby 7′s familiar engine joins the sounds of the alley, and Juno pulls away. 

“Looks like our ride’s here,” he rasps, but he doesn’t look at their getaway car.

“We’ll finish this later,” Peter whispers to him. “I believe you owe me a drink.”

[whitetigerdemoness]

I’ve started titling this “Evie vs Lila” in my drafts and I kinda wish Penknight was still Evillustrator so I could have Marc call him that.

Master post of all chapters

Ladybug and Chatnoir didn’t have to look far for coffee. Being a news station they had their own little coffee shop on the first floor, whom were more than happy to give the heroes free java in exchange for tea. I mean, details about the akuma attack. Desperately trying to keep her eyes open, having been awake for more than 24 hours at this point, Ladybug gave them the gist of it. 

Hawkmoth had decided Volpina would be a better bet than Prism, forcing his akuma to change hosts. The duo had to wait for the reporters to quiet down before continuing when they revealed that Penknight had managed to throw off Hawkmoth’s control and was currently a free agent. They left out the details of how that had happened, saying only that Penknight was still active, but without his partner had been regulated to ‘lesser threat’ and Viperion was keeping an eye on him for now. They warned the citizens of Paris about Volpina’s illusions, and to be wary of anything unusual they saw until she was cured.

“Unusual like letting not one, but two akuma run free?” A reporter called from the back. Ladybug rubbed at her eyes. Please let this day be over soon, she groaned internally.

“Volpina’s illusions can be dispelled with a touch. If need be, Chatnoir and I are willing to let someone, shake our hands or something, to prove we’re real. As for Penknight the situation is...complicated. Volpina blames his partner, Prism, for humiliating her on live tv and has targeted him. Since Prism has been cured, he is vulnerable to her and having thrown off Hawkmoth’s control Penknight’s only interest seems to be protecting him. Viperion is going to be sticking to him like glue until Chatnoir and I deal with Volpina.” She locked eyes with a short man in a baseball cap and a hawaiian shirt at the back of the room. Seeing he had gotten her attention, the man slowly made his way to the side exit. Well, that was convenient. Now to ditch the reporters.

“That’s all the time we have for now, thank you!” Ladybug said, dragging away Chatnoir who was tolerating various reporters poking him to see if he was real. She lead him out the main doors, taking a wide circle back to the alley between the news station and another building. Before leaping down to talk with Fu, Ladybug turned to Chatnoir.

“Chat...we need to talk before seeing the master. About your miraculous.” Chatnoir looked as tired as she felt. She couldn’t imagine how much stress this whole thing was placing him under.

“My Lady...You don’t need to say anything. I know what’s right. If it was only you and Viperion, I might protest, but Hawkmoth knowing is inexcusable. Just now...when he started talking about how I could get my mom back if I joined him? I was really, really tempted. I know she would hate me for doing it but...I miss her so much, you know?” The cat hero sagged, looking like he had aged a decade in an instant. She had been uncertain about what to do before now, but seeing Chatnoir, seeing Adrien, look so defeated and hopeless gave her determination. Rules be damned. Chat Noir was more than just her crush, he was her partner. 

“I’m not letting the master take your miraculous.” Ladybug said firmly. “I might not be thinking as straight as I could right now due to sleep loss, but I know in my heart that there could never be a better cat miraculous wielder than you. I know you don’t remember some of it due to the miraculous ladybug, but I would have been dead a dozen times over without you. Not defeated, dead.” 

She pulled him into a hug, just as much for her comfort as his. She thought back to a blinding white world, the moon in pieces and Paris under water. She knew there were consequences to what she was about to do. Possible consequences. If her encounters with Bunnix and the miraculous in general had taught her anything, it was that the future was never set stone and that hope was so much stronger than fear.

“I’ve never agreed with how we’re supposed to keep our identities secret from each other. Especially knowing what I know now, I can see so many situations that could have ended better or we could have avoided completely if we knew who each other was. I don’t think the other heroes should know but us? We’re a team, and we’re not at full strength if we’re keeping secrets from each other.” Chat clung to her like a lifeline. It hurt her heart to pry him away, but she needed to see him for this next part.

“Adrien Agreste, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’ve had the biggest crush on you since the day you lent me your umbrella, and I am not letting you go just because some old man who would rather force a pair of teenagers to be responsible for all of Paris instead of shouldering the burden himself thinks we should.” Oh dear god, she had said it. She had finally said it. She confessed to Adrien. She had always thought it would be more romantic than this. Not half crazy from sleep loss and smelling like cheap coffee.

“Marinette?” Chatnoir whispered the word like it was something fragile, precious. “No, that’s not possible. I saw Marinette and you at the same time when Marinette was Multimouse.” Ladybug sighed.

“That is exactly the kind of situation I’m talking about where not knowing our identities makes things harder than it needs to be. Kwami Buster almost had us because we had to avoid each other. At that time, I used the fox miraculous alongside the mouse to create an illusion so you would leave before my time ran out. Also so you didn’t discover who I was. That entire mess could have ended very badly and been easily avoided if we had only known.” Chatnoir took a moment to process this. As he came to terms with Ladybug and Marinette being the same person, his eyes lit up like stars.

“Marinette is Ladybug.” He laughed. “This had to be some weird dream because I can not be that lucky.” Ladybug blushed and looked away.

“Contemplating your state of cosmic karma will have to wait kitty. We’re going to need to have a much longer talk about...all of this later but for now if we keep Master Fu waiting any longer he’s going to be suspicious.” Chat grabbed her hand as she prepared to jump down.

“Ladybug wait, what are we going to tell him about my miraculous?”

“If that luck of yours holds out? Absolutely nothing. I meant what I said. I’m done with letting someone who shoulders none of the responsibility make all of the decisions.”

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

Chatnoir’s luck held out just fine in the end. Ladybug had had to slowly count the bricks in the alley wall to keep her cool as Master Fu gently scolded them over not only having failed to cure either akuma after so long, but also for letting Viperion keep his miraculous unsupervised. She could tell from the tightness around Chatnoir’s eyes he was having a similar problem. Their talk on the roof had really driven home just how unequal the balance of duties were between the two heroes and the miraculous guardian. 

As Fu lectured, Ladybug thought about all the ways he made life difficult for them. They ranged from forcing Ladybug and Chatnoir to remain secret from each other to his new vagrant life that made obtaining allies tedious, if not impossible at some points. In her exhausted mind she wondered if he even wanted them to defeat Hawkmoth. If protecting the miraculous was so important a wielder had to give theirs up when their identity was discovered, why did Fu get to keep an entire box full of them when Hawkmoth knew who he was?

The errant thought sent a jolt of alertness down Ladybug’s spine. That was actually a really good question. Not only was Fu in custody of every miraculous except hers and Chat’s, he knew the identity of every wielder save Hawkmoth and Mayura. If anyone was a security risk, it was Master Fu. Ladybug knew logically SOMEONE had to be in charge of the miraculous, but in her tired, fed up state she was only angry at how strictly the guardian held them to rules he himself flaunted.

“Master,” Ladybug began as politely as she could manage, “We know leaving the miraculous unattended can be dangerous, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask for one more.” Fu gave her a disapproving look, but she plowed onwards. “Our enemies have proven they’re capable of making long term plans, but they’re not the only ones. I have an idea but I need the bee miraculous for it to work.”

“The bee miraculous, Ladybug?” The old man sounded disappointed in her. She kept her nerve. Ladybug was done caring about what he thought about her. For now at least. After some sleep she might change her mind, but for now? She was exhausted. “I hope you know the right person to give it to.”

“Don’t worry Master Fu, I know exactly who deserves this miraculous.”

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

Bee miraculous tucked safely away in her yo-yo, it was time to check in on Viperion and Penknight. She talked her plan over with Chatnoir as they made their way to the address Viperion had texted them, trying very hard to focus on the matter at hand and not let her mind wander over how one might text with a lyre. She’d expected him to be hesitant at who she wanted to give the bee miraculous to, but was surprised when he was in full support of her idea. She only hoped her candidate felt the same, especially since they were essentially dumping an akuma on top of them.

Arriving at the hospital, Ladybug and Chatnoir were ushered in by relieved looking medical staff. As they neared the room Marc was staying in she could see why. The two heroes probably would have been able to find the room without directions just by following the shouting.

“Oh thank heavens.” A harassed looking doctor said as she caught sight of the two heroes. The graying woman was standing between two groups of people, and her expression said she wasn’t pleased with either of them. On one side was Viperion and Penknight, the snake hero very firmly holding the fuming akuma in place. On the other was Alya Cesaire, recording the incident with her phone no doubt for the Ladyblog, and a man in an official looking suit. Alya was slightly off to the side, looking only slightly less angry with the suited man than Penknight did. Ladybug felt a headache coming on. Why did things need to be more complicated than they already were?

“Please convince at least one of these parties to leave. I don’t care if it’s the akuma or Mr. Berger but one of them has got to go. This is a place of healing and that means quiet.” The doctor ordered more than asked.

“The akuma OR me? Insinuating this demon has more right than a member of the Office of Akuma Affairs to be here?” The suited man, Mr. Berger, sneered. Oh boy, the Wah Wah were here. The official abbreviation was OAA but Ladybug and Chatnoir referred to them as the Wah Wah, because without fail they showed up after an Akuma attack to go ‘waaah waaah’.

“Your party is NOT officially recognized by the Parisian government, making you essentially a civilian. The akuma was behaving himself until you came in and started stomping around, making accusations and demands for confidential patient information.” The doctor snapped at him.

“Ladybug, this guy has been running his mouth something awful. Viperion has been doing a great job of keeping Penknight in check, but I think I know who is behind that door and if this starched monkey makes one more insinuation about their virtue Penknight won't have to deck him because I will.” Alya steamed. “I’ve been turning a blind eye to people bad mouthing my friends for too long to let this one go.”

“So you admit to being friends with one of these demons? Not surprising that the writer for the trash rag you call the ‘Ladyblog’ is friendly with the enemy. You vomit praises for these masked terrorists so easily it’s not a surprise at all to find you supporting another one.” Mr.Berger harrumphed.

Among the demands of the Wah-Wah were that akuma identities should be public record, alongside that of heroes. Of course, they didn’t believe the miraculous wielders were heroes at all, but rather part of Hawkmoth’s scheme to terrorize the city. Their biggest talking point on this was how Ladybug and Chatnoir had conveniently showed up the same day Hawkmoth did, and how easily they seemed to defeat his minions. The two parties must be staging the fights, claimed the Office of Akuma Affairs. Even the akuma were paid actors, and the part about them losing their memories after being cured was a lie. How could someone not remember becoming a super villain and rampaging through the city? They asked.

The Wah-Wah demanded that the heroes be held accountable for the destruction of the city on a regular basis (as if Ladybug’s magic didn’t fix everything good as new) and for the lasting psychological trauma the akuma wrought. That second demand...Ladybug felt guilty for how many people got hurt in some of their worse battles. Sometimes people who were hurt, or even died, were revived good as new without their memories of the incident. Sometimes they remembered every second. After Syren, various support and therapy groups had popped up in the city to help those who remembered drowning, or watching loved ones suffer. Those groups grew in number and membership as time went on and akumas toppled buildings and destroyed bridges full of people. Ladybug thought back to the destroyed Paris of the future. Had her miraculous ladybug revived everyone? Did they remember dying? Was there an alternate future somewhere where Chatnoir was hated even more than Hawkmoth for destroying the world? Ladybug glanced at her partner, who had stepped over to help Viperion with Penknight. That was one future that would never happen, she vowed.

“Mr. Berger, we’re not even sure if Penknight still counts as an akuma right now. His situation is one we haven’t encountered before. What I can tell you is that as long as you are not a threat to...the person he’s protecting, he’s not a threat to you.” Chatnoir tried in a diplomatic tone.

“Unique situation?” Alya chimed in, perking up at potential spicy news for her blog.

“Hawkmoth doesn’t control me anymore.” Penknight huffed. “That doesn’t mean I’m suddenly on the side of angels. You say one more thing about my treasure and I’m throwing you off the roof.” He growled. 

“Dude what is it with you and chucking people off rooftops?” Chatnoir wondered aloud.

“I’ll say whatever I want about that whore you’re hiding-!” Mr. Berger didn’t get to finish his sentence as Penknight screeched and lunged at him, only the combined efforts of Viperion and Chatnoir keeping the maybe akuma from swatting the man’s head off with supernatural strength. 

“Oh that’s it” Alya growled, putting her phone down and pushing up a sleeve. Ladybug jerked her back on her way to get between the two parties.

“You stay there.” She said to Alya. “You calm down!” She shoved a finger in Penknight’s face “And you shut up before I toss you off the roof!” She hissed at Mr. Berger. “Whatever your personal feelings on the matter are, people who have been akumatized currently have the right to remain anonymous, especially minors!”

“So the little harlot is a minor, hmm? I bet I know exactly which school she goes to as well. College Dupont seems to be a breeding ground for filth.” The idiot in a suit smirked looking smug.

“He’s not a girl!” Penknight snapped, still struggling against the two heroes. Ladybug winced, she knew Marc was sensitive about his feminine appearance, but Penknight had just unwittingly given the man more ammunition. 

“That thing was a boy?” Berger hissed in disgust. “A demon and a fa-” a sharp smack cut the man off before he could finish that last syllable. The woman doctor raised her hand again as the suited man turned to her with his mouth open.

“That. Is. Enough.” The woman gritted out. “You will leave my hospital of your own free will, or I will have security THROW you out.” Said security guards shifted nervously in the background. “Ladybug, I’m sorry, but I really will have to ask your party to leave as well. The patient has received all the care we can give him at this point and should really go home and rest. The only reason he has a room is because Mr.Penknight bullied my staff into giving him one. Leave. Please.”

“Of course doctor, that was our intention from the start. Volpina is still after m-uh, “Prism”, and we have a safer location in mind.” She said to Penknight when he looked like he was going to protest. “Do the windows on this floor open?” She asked the doctor.

“How dare you you vile-” Mr. Berger began to spit, but the doctor wasn’t having it. 

“Security!” She called over his rant, stepping aside to let the two nervous looking men in uniform attempt to push the raging man towards the elevator. “No Ladybug, they do not. No windows in patient rooms do, it’s a jump\fall hazard.”

“That’s not a problem. I can just erase and replace the window.” Penknight offered, looking calmer already as the Wah-Wah man was forced away.

“Let’s do that. Leaving from the lobby seems like a bad idea.” Ladybug sighed rubbing a hand over her face.

“Ladybug, one moment! Do you have anything to say for the Ladyblog?” Alya asked, not about to let a potential scoop go by.

“Is this live?” Ladybug asked as Viperion followed Penknight into the hospital room they had been guarding. Chatnoir lingered outside, waiting for her. 

“No, I try to avoid live streams now days just in case something…sensitive needs to be edited out.” Maybe there was a brain in her friend’s head after all, Ladybug thought to herself. She leaned in close to whisper the next part, not wanting to be overheard.

“Then go home and keep an eye open. This is shaping up to be a huge mess and we might need all hands on deck later.” Ladybug certainly hoped not, but she knew the words would keep the girl safe at home and out of the line of fire.

“Ah, right! Of course Ladybug! Maybe I can get that interview some other time.” The red head said, putting her phone away.  Ladybug forced a smile and went to join the others in Marc’s hospital room.

“Did you mean that My Lady? Do you think we’re really going to need everyone later?” Chatnoir asked as he closed the door behind her, miraculous enhanced hearing easily having caught the exchange.

“I hope not kitty, but it was the first thing that came to mind to get her out of here.” Penknight had generously allowed Viperion to hold Marc (who was fast asleep. At least someone was getting some rest) as he erased the window. That didn’t stop the akuma from hovering like a mother hen the entire time.

“Relax, I’ve got him. He won't even feel a bump.” Viperion soothed. He left out that Marc might not have felt anything even if he were awake due to the pain medication the hospital staff had given him. Ladybug was once again very, very glad that calm, level headed Luka was who Master Fu has sent to help and not one of the other heroes. Maybe he could do some things right, though most likely Luka had been the only one he could find during school hours. Oh god, school. Marinette and Adrien had just left in the middle of the day, though since Alya had been here just moments ago perhaps they had been released early. Or maybe the reporter had ditched to get a scoop. Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Don’t go too far.” Penknight warned, stepping out behind the snake hero to balance on the small ledge running along the side of the building.

“Just to the next rooftop.” Viperion promised, before making the jump. Penknight leaned after him like he wanted to follow, but pulled himself back. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get out.” The akuma huffed at the remaining heroes. Neither Ladybug nor Chatnoir argued, jumping after Viperion and waiting with him on the next rooftop for Penknight.

“How is he?” Chatnoir asked, gesturing to Marc.

“Better than he could have been if Penknight hadn’t managed to get Volpina off him in time, and keep her off. Only his leg is broken and it was a clean break.” The shadowed look on Viperion’s face said he had seen a future where that hadn’t been true. Chatnoir winced in sympathy, and Ladybug abruptly recalled his (not so) brief time as Aspik, who had spent months of second chances essentially watching her die. Suddenly the over protective attitude Chatnoir had had recently made more sense. At first it had annoyed her, but with this new context she felt devastated. The two of them really, really needed to sit down for a long talk and maybe spa day.

“Alight where are we going?” Penknight cut Ladybug from her thoughts, landing next to the heroes and holding out his arms in a clear demand for Viperion’s precious cargo. Viperion gently transferred the sleeping boy to the akuma without a word. Marc sighed and buried his face in the akuma’s chest without waking up, causing Penknight to give him the dopiest grin. Ladybug had to face it, Penknight’s devotion to his friend (maybe more?) was downright adorable. It was a shame he wasn’t going to remember any of this when she finally cured him.

“Ah, My lady, that could be us but you playin’” Chatnoir teased. Ladybug rolled her eyes good naturedly. 

“I thought you liked games kitty.” She teased back, booping him on the nose. Viperion cleared his throat, looking amused and...a little sad? Maybe he was feeling left out.

“Right. Our destination. I honestly never thought I would say this, but there’s only one person qualified to keep Volpina away from Marc while Chatnoir and I get some rest. Mostly because Volpina would never think to look there.”

“Rest?” Penknight interrupted “With Volpina after Marc?” The akuma looked mutinous. 

“ ‘Knight, the two of us have been awake over 24 hours at this point and transformed most of the time. I know we make this whole superhero thing look easy, but being transformed does take energy. Volpina seems to be laying low for now, and we’re crossing our fingers she’ll stay that way for at least a few hours...unless you’re saying you don’t think you could handle her if she finds you?” Chatnoir challenged the akuma.

“Of course I can handle her.” Penknight huffed. “Which is a good thing seeing as I might have to. Tomorrow’s a school day and the two of you probably can’t afford to miss much more. Besides, someone is going to get suspicious after a while if the two of you keep vanishing the same time Ladybug and Chatnoir appear.” Ladybug did not like the implications of that.

“What do you mean? Ladybug doesn’t go to our school.” Chatnoir chuckled nervously.

“Save it. There might be some sort of weird magic that keeps people from recognizing you when you’re transformed, but it stops working when someone figures out your identities. Some pretty good magic, seeing as Ladybug didn’t even bother to change her hair style. Put in a little effort Mari-”

“OK ENOUGH OF THAT.” Ladybug frantically cut him off. “I need sleep and I need every scrap of energy I have left to deal with Chole.”

“Chole?!”  

[danielcooperrp]

Captain Babysitter

These days, the Avengers compound isn’t the thriving hub of life that it once was. For starters, there’s a lot fewer people around, and even those that managed to stay corporeal are less enthusiastic about their work. Clint has been a ghost for well over a year now, and Tony rarely leaves the cabin upstate anymore. Cap’s been working on rebuilding efforts in the city, both structural and social, and even Ally and Daniel have to divide their time between their work in Boston and their hideaway on the land Tony owns by the lake. 

But they make an effort. It’s impossible to miss the incredible effort Natasha has been putting in to achieve some semblance of order. She’s been on top of things on an intergalactic scale, and whenever Daniel crawls into bed, exhausted from a day of being a dad and a community organizer, he thinks about Nat and reminds himself that there’s still so much to be done. 

So they decide to take a week, introduce Anna to the compound, give Nat the chance to be a doting aunt instead of the tireless superhero. She steals the baby from Ally’s arms as soon as they arrive, leaving the new parents to haul their stuff up to their suite as she coos to Anna about how strong her legs are for kicking. 

They’re the only ones in the compound, three adults and a baby. Rhodey’s hot on Clint’s trail—there are so many things to worry about these days, and Daniel has decided that for his own mental health, he’s going to purposefully ignore a friend becoming a serial killer—and everyone else, he thinks, is off-world. It’s sad, thinking about Nat all alone in a place this big. They really should be here more often. 

The first thing they do, after their four bags of baby supplies and one suitcase of clothes are dumped unceremoniously into their suite is, of course, take a nap. They don’t even take their shoes off, just flop on the bed in a collection of limbs and black out. They’re only awoken when Nat opens the door, asking for diapers and what they want for lunch. 

Baby changed, they go downstairs to make sandwiches and salads. Ally and Daniel do the bulk of the cooking, not that they mind; it’s good to give Nat a break, and to be honest, neither one of them wants to know what she’d do to them if they try to take Anna away from her at this point. As they eat, Nat fills them in on the work she’s been doing. If she didn’t have the world’s shadiest past, she’d make a great president. 

Then the call comes in. There’s been a massive accident on the freeway just a few miles from the compound, multi-car pile-up. With a heavy sigh, Nat relinquishes Anna, who’s sleepy from her own lunch, over to her father, and then the women leave to go do what they do best. 

Daniel wanders around the compound, showing Anna different points of interest. He takes her to a wall of windows and points out the quinjet. “Plane,” he says, emphasizing every sound. “Plane.” She blinks at him, bored. 

He suddenly remembers that he dropped her favorite stuffed pig down in the entrance hall when they first arrived and decides to go get it before the tantrum starts. They walk down, and when he bends to pick it up, the front door unexpectedly opens. “Oh.”

Cap stops short, clearly surprised. “Daniel! Didn’t expect you here.”

Daniel straightens, the pig in one hand and the baby in the other. “Yeah, Ally and I are here for a little while, thought we’d help Nat out. What’re you doing here?”

With a small laugh, Cap says, “Same. But don’t tell Nat. She doesn’t want anyone to think she needs help.” He looks around the empty compound. “Where is she?”

“Oh, there was a crash on the freeway, she and Ally went to go help out.” Just then, his butt vibrates. He tries to get his phone out of his pocket, but he’s still holding the pig, so he drops the pig on top of Anna and tries again for the phone. “Hey babe!” 

“We need you here, now. Bring the Medic suit. We’ve got injuries.”

Daniel eyes fall to Anna’s face. “But I’ve got—”

“Nat’s on her way back to watch the baby, she’ll probably beat you.”

Daniel looks up at Cap, who’s watching him, confused. “Actually...tell her to stay. Cap just got here.” Cap looks even more bewildered now. “Be there in three.” He hangs up, stuffs his phone back in his pocket, and says, “Well, man, you just got drafted.” He strides up to Cap and shoves the baby at him; Cap’s arms reach out to take her instinctively. Making sure the pig stays balanced, Daniel says, “She just ate so she’s probably ready for a nap. If you need diapers they’re upstairs in our suite, just go in. If she cries, she likes it when you bounce her or when you count each of her toes in an increasingly funny voice. Good luck!” He kisses Anna’s forehead and then bounds out the door, presses the button on his phone that calls his Medic suit to him. 

Cap stands in the doorway, frozen. “What...just...” Anna starts to wriggle in his arms, and he panics, holding her tighter. “No, uh, stay, please.” 

He kicks the door closed and walks over to the nearest couch, which he lowers himself onto as slowly as if he were trying his hardest not to detonate a bomb. Eyes wide, he scans the room for help he knows isn’t coming. He feels a tug and looks down; the fingers of one of Anna’s fists are curled around the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling it toward her mouth with truly terrifying strength. 

“No, no, um, please don’t.” He gently pries the shirt from her grip, which was, apparently, a mistake. She lets out a wailing cry, face twisted up in agony.

“Oh no,” Steve breathes, heart beating faster. He wasn’t this terrified when he jumped on that grenade back in basic training. “You can have the shirt!” He tries to extend the front of his shirt toward her again, but it’s too late. She’s making a klaxon sound that Steve cannot think through. He sees it, in his head: Ally and Daniel coming back to a screaming baby, their faces of horror as they rescue her from his incompetent care, the trust they once had in him leeching away. 

He picks up the stuffed pig from her chest and dances it in front of her face, but her eyes are screwed shut with the force of her wails. An errant fist knocks the pig out of his hand altogether, so that plan is quickly jettisoned. 

He remembers Daniel’s spiel as he was abandoning them, and starts to bounce the baby. He has absolutely no frame of reference for the force with which one should bounce an infant, however, as is evidenced by the several seconds of airtime Anna manages before crashing back down into his arms. “Oh god!” Steve stumbles over an apology as the baby’s cries intensify. Her face is getting red with the force of her sobs, and Steve acts on a whim. 

“ONE!” He deepens his voice, and pinches the littlest toe of her right foot very, very gently. The cries quieten, just a bit. Taking that as a sign, he moves over to the next toe, and in an even deeper voice, declares, “TWO!” Then the next toe, this time his voice so deep and bombastic it echoes off the tall walls. “THREE!” 

The cries have completely stopped, and Steve will never, ever understand babies. 

He makes his voice go lower and lower for toes four and five, but when he hops over to the left foot, his pitches his voice up impossibly high. “SIX!”  

She starts to giggle.

He melts.

He continues counting her toes, wiggling each between his giant fingers, his voice spiraling higher and higher until it almost makes him dizzy. By the time he gets to ten, the baby is screeching with cackles, her whole body shaking with the force of them. He cheers after the tenth toe, burying his face in her round tummy, and she laughs even harder. 

Steve leans back into the couch with a sigh. War was not that stressful. He starts bouncing the baby again, much, much more gently this time, and soon enough, the giggles quiet, too, and there’s a tiny sleeping person in his arms. 

He watches her sleep, the way her long eyelashes fan out over her chubby cheeks, the little rise and fall of her chest, and thinks about a different he life he could have led, somewhere, somewhen else. 

An hour later, she’s still asleep, and he hasn’t moved an inch, terrified to wake her up. The front door opens, and the missing trio parades in, chatting loudly about whatever daring heroics they’d just pulled off. Steve lets out a sharp sh! and the others look at him startled.

“You’ll wake her!” he hisses, jerking his head toward the sleeping infant.

Ally dances over with a roll of her eyes, easily scooping the baby out of Steve’s arms over his protests. “Relax, Cap. Once she’s out for her afternoon nap, she’s out. You could put her on a rocket and launch her into space and it wouldn’t faze her.”

“Hmm, we should try it,” Daniel jokes as he walks over, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Did she give you any trouble?” 

“She—” He considers the question, smiling down at the sleeping baby. “She was perfect.”

Daniel grins. “Yeah she was.” He wraps an arm around Ally’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get her down and you in a shower.”

Ally gasps, offended. “What? Me?”

“You smell like motor oil.”

“You smell like vomit!”

“That’s what happens when strangers vomit on you. Come on.” 

As the little family walks away, Nat smiles knowingly at Steve. “So...how was it?”

Steve chuckles. “Babies are wild, man.” He pauses. “It was pretty great.”

Nat’s eyes narrow. “You think you’re ever gonna get one of those?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve starts his make his way toward the kitchen. “Don’t start with me, Romanoff.”

“I know a really sweet girl in the city!” she calls after him. “Good birthing hips!”