#light cavalry crew

[cozyunderworld]

My new addiction

Chris 🧡🧡🧡 Last Light Cavalry Member 🔥

I have no words to describe this fine as dude. 😫😫😫 my new fav 🙈 also looks like a more evil Vinny 😂

[koiiiji]

Hello, I love your work! If it's okay with you, may I please request for Windbreaker? Kaneshiro and Noah with a s/o who is a professional boxer?

scenario: Their s/o is a shy and very sweet person. They're also quite small (if you consider 5'4 to be small, no offense to short people.) Its very hard to believe that their s/o is the undisputed featherweight world champion. Angel in the streets, Demon in the arena.

hard punch, soft touch

author's note ; hiii! thank you so much💌🙂‍↕️ and sorry for such long response!

if you will excuse me, i don’t really understood if reader is afab or no, so i tried to make them g/n

tw ; fighting, but mostly fluff

neon lights buzzed faintly in the alleyway of Kaneshiro’s team’s territory, casting sharp shadows on the ground. you hadn’t meant to wander into their space; your gym wasn’t far from here, and after a long evening of training, your legs took you on an unintentional detour. cool night air brushed against your face as you checked your phone for directions back to the main road.

that’s when trouble found you.

“oi! you lost or something?” a lanky guy with dyed red hair called out, his cronies flanking him. the cocky sneer on his face told you all you needed to know — he was itching for trouble.

you raised your hands in a defensive, pacifying gesture. “i’m just passing through. didn’t mean to intrude.”

“oh, look at this! what a shy thing here, in our den.” his laugh grated against your nerves, but you kept your composure. after all, you weren’t looking for a fight. you were off the ring, and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene.

but one of them got too close. too bold.

when he reached out to grab your shoulder, instinct kicked in. your fist connected with his jaw in a perfect arc before you could think twice. the sound of the hit echoed in the alley. he crumpled to the ground, out cold, and you immediately froze, horrified.

“oh, crap,” you muttered under your breath. this wasn’t what you wanted at all.

the rest of the gang tensed, but before they could react, a calm yet commanding voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“what’s going on here?”

suddenly someone stepped into view, her hands shoved casually into her kimono pockets. her silver hair caught the light, giving her an almost ethereal presence. her sharp eyes scanned the scene, landing on you and then the unconscious guy on the ground.

you swallowed hard. if there was one person you didn’t want to escalate this situation, it was her.

Kaneshiro tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk playing at her lips. “let me guess. this one got ahead of himself?”

you nodded sheepishly, unable to meet her gaze. “… i didn’t mean to. he just — he grabbed me, and i reacted. i don’t usually —” you trailed off, feeling the heat rise in your face. it wasn’t often you lost control like that, and the embarrassment weighed heavily on you.

but to your surprise, Kaneshiro didn’t seem angry. if anything, she looked amused. “chill out. i’ve seen worse,” she said, crouching down to check on guy. after a quick assessment, she waved her hand dismissively. “he’ll live.”

the rest of the gang shuffled nervously, clearly unsure how to proceed. Kaneshiro straightened and fixed them with a sharp glare. “and what are you all standing around for? he deserved it. get him out of here.”

they scrambled to comply, dragging the unconscious guy away without another word. Kaneshiro turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. “you’re not from around here, are you?”

“no,” you admitted, feeling a little calmer now. “i’m a boxer. my gym not so far from here, i didn’t mean to wander into your territory. i just got lost.”

she chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. “a pro, huh? that explains the punch. clean hit.” she tapped her chin, as if filing the information away for later. “don’t worry about it. i get it. he deserve it, he had hard time with behavig.”

you blinked, surprised by his understanding. “really? you’re not mad?”

“mad?” she shook her head, smirking. “why would i be? you handled yourself just fine. besides, they shouldn’t have messed with you in the first place. guess they learned their lesson.”

relief washed over you, and you finally allowed yourself to breathe. “thank you.”

Kaneshiro studied you for a moment, her sharp eyes softening. “you’re pretty shy for a fighter. don’t let this mess get to you.” she came a little closer to take a look at your phone screen and you could feel her perfume mixed with a cigarette smoke. she gestured toward the road. “head that way, and you’ll hit the main street. should be an easy walk back.”

you nodded, offering a small, grateful smile. “thanks. really.”

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back. Kaneshiro was still standing there, watching until you were out of sight...

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filled the cozy interior of the bar, the kind of place tucked away in a quieter corner of city. you hadn’t planned on stopping here tonight, but after an exhausting week, a moment of solitude and a drink sounded like the perfect fix.

your knuckles still ached faintly from training earlier in the day, and as you sipped your drink at the far end of the bar, you let yourself unwind, letting the noise fade into background static. that was until you caught the tail end of a voice that pierced through the calm like glass shattering.

“oi, what did you just say to me?”

your eyes drifted across the bar. a guy — a hulking figure in a leather jacket — was standing way too close to someone with striking deep-blue hair and a face twisted somewhere between exasperation and amusement.

Noah leaned against the bar with a pint in hand, looking more irritated than anything as she tried to dismiss someone.

“oi, i said no, mate.” her voice was sharp but controlled, mimicking his words, though the man pestering her clearly didn’t care.

“c’mon, sweetheart, don’t be like that.” he leaned closer, his voice slurred with booze and bad intentions.

Noah’s jaw clenched, her fingers tapping against her glass in what you recognized as the beginnings of a warning. she looked really irritated

before you realized what you were doing, you slid off your stool and crossed the bar in a few measured strides.

“hey!” you called sharply, drawing both of their attention. Noah turned to glance at you, her brow raised, while the guy straightened up, looking annoyed.

“what do you want?” he grunted, clearly displeased by the interruption.

you smiled faintly, keeping your hands relaxed and loose. “i want you to take the hint.” you gestured to Noah, keeping your tone even but firm. “she told you ‘no.’ time to back off.”

the man narrowed his eyes, clearly deciding you weren’t much of a threat. “mind your business, yeah? this ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

he didn’t know it, but you were already gauging distance, angles — how to deal with him if it came down to it. fighting wasn’t your first choice, but you weren’t about to let someone like this harass her.

when you didnt move, he scoffed, stepping forward to square up with you. “you think you’re some kinda hero?”

before you could reply, his hand shot forward toward your shoulder — a mistake on his part. your body moved instinctively. one shift, one clean strike. your fist connected with his solar plexus in a single, controlled motion. he gasped audibly, staggering back into a nearby stool and nearly tripping over himself.

the bar went quiet for a moment. eyes turned in your direction, but you ignored them, keeping your attention on the guy who was now wheezing and swearing under his breath.

“you good?” you asked casually, as if nothing had happened.

“piss off,” he spat, finally stumbling away toward the door, muttering curses.

you sighed, brushing off the tension and turning toward Noah. to your surprise, she was watching you with an expression that hovered between amused and impressed, her head tilted slightly.

“well,” she said, her voice light with a hint of teasing, “aren’t you full of surprises?”

your face warmed slightly under her gaze, and you rubbed the back of your neck. “sorry. i didn’t mean to… uh, make a scene. i just—”

“relax,” Noah interrupted, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “he had it coming.” she tipped her pint toward you, as if in salute. “you’re quicker than you look. you a fighter?”

you nodded sheepishly. “professional boxer, yeah. didn’t really want to punch him, but…”

“but he was asking for it,” Noah finished, her grin growing. “thanks, though. i could’ve handled him, but it was nice to watch someone else put him in his place for once.”

you felt a small flicker of embarrassment but smiled back. “anytime, i guess?”

Noah laughed softly, an easy, carefree sound that cut through the tension still lingering in the room. “you’re not bad, you know. what’s your name?”

you told her, and she repeated it, like she was testing how it sounded. “noted.” she grabbed her drink and took a step closer, her sharp eyes sparkling with curiosity. “next round’s on me. least i can do after you saved my night.”

“you don’t have to—”

“don’t argue,” she said with a wink, grabbing you under your arm. “it’s not every day someone gets to throw a punch and impress me.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, your earlier nerves melting away as you followed her back toward the bar. the noise of the room picked up again, but for the rest of the night, it felt like the two of you existed in your own bubble — talking about fights, bikes, travels, and the strange way life brought people together.

you didn’t know if you’d see her again after tonight, but as she grinned at you over her drink, you had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

[shintaru]

Simon says: Spread open your legs & put your hands behind your head

m.list ♡ taglist

𐙚🧸ྀི ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ — INSTRUCTIONS you have to be logged into X to access these links, & the captions have nothing to do with why I chose the links ⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A/N If you aren’t comfortable with these scroll away & read my actually fics ♡ do not force yourself to watch this, it’s 🌽links

⎛Warnings; breeding, hand job, overstim, recording, soaking, spanking, improper use of a lollipop, riding, grinding, squirting, fingering, mutual masturbation⎞

Tagging: @hyukwwn @wthphe1n @bfwooin @prepchii @sylith @sanzuslutttt @zyart-jpg

Simon says: Take a deep breath 'Cause tonight we gon' make a mess

Owen

Giving him a hand job, Owen has a breeding kink, holding your hand while fucking you from behind, how we fucks you after getting jealous, aftercare, kissing

Wooin

Recording, lollipop, lifting you while fucking you, teasing you, overstim, loves leaving your ass red

Mahon

Grinding against his thighs, holding you while he fucks you, riding him, cuddling, his passenger Princess, breeding kink

Poel

Holding your thighs while he fucks you, fingering you, taking his time, making you squirt, mutual masturbation, aftercare

[narcissistshandler]

May u do anything with Owen Knight pls??? 🥹 I've practically read every existing fic of his that exists already

𝗠𝗔𝗬𝗕𝗘 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗥...?

pairing. owen knight x reader

warning. anal sex, talking during sex, bottom!owen, top!amab!reader, hummingbird crew!reader, established relationship, rivals and lovers

a/n. Yeahhh I love Owen

"Darling," he tries, batting his long blond lashes over his flushed cheeks, a smile curving his lips as if he's perfectly in control. But he's not. Not with you. Your arch-nemesis in the beginning, when he thought it was a waste of time for Shelly to lower herself to being in Hummingbird with you and your friends. Then a simple rival, leaving the irritation only to Jay and focusing his competitive attention on you.

At some point, the arguments became something more than that. You two were lovers, or something like that. Now most races ended with him over you, against you, under you, or in this case, on all fours for you.

"Yes?" You gasp, hips aligned with his round ass, already turning pink from the impact. Darling, babe, lover, he would call you in the privacy of bedroom. Bastard, would mostly take place when he was angry with you, with your crew, with most things.

You don't stop moving as you talk, despite slowing down the pace, the rough fucking making the headboard of the bed creak against the thin wall of your apartment, slowing to a gentle sway, not coming out of him, just undulating your hips. Allowing Owen to catch his breath so he could speak.

Your breathing was equally rapid, the room muffled, the wet sound of his pink hole being filled by your cock filling the room; an erotic slap, slap, slap which alone made you throb in the tightness of Owen's insides.

He grits his perfectly white, straight teeth as your cock hits an especially good spot inside him. "Ngh- right there, again," he loses his train of thought for a minute, but you comply, trying to hit his prostate again. Everything for Owen, even if he was an idiot sometimes. "That, yeah, so good, so fucking good, babe."

Gods, Owen was a talker in bed. You were always proud when you could get him to shut up. It was hot, sure, but turning him into a mumbling mess was even hotter.

"Did you want to say something?" You try to get him back on track, curious about what he was going to say. He blinks at you, moisture glistening in his beautiful blue eyes, sweat beading down the curved line of his back, his deliciously taut thighs keeping his ass high in the air.

"Uh? Ah, yes. When I get back to England... Mmh ahh you should come with me," Owen says through moans, the sounds are beautiful and soft, unmistakably masculine despite how melodious it sounds. "[name], oooh I n-need it deeper, nnh, come on, no! Not slowly! Give it to me, hard..."

Fired up by Owen's sounds you slowly increase your pace, one hand leaving his hips to grab his blond locks, pulling his head back. He goes without a fight, grunting with pain, the change requiring his spine to curve more deeply, allowing your cock to slide all the way in in one thrust.

Owen gasps, hands gripping the sheets, cheeks flushed. "What?" You finally say, half shocked and uncertain. This wasn't a conversation you expected to have in the middle of sex.

"Join the Light Cavalry, c-come with me, I can't leave you... ngh your cock- harder, I love your cock, I can't be without you," your boyfriend is mumbling, still very rational in his words despite seeming cockdrunk. His own member dangles between his legs, thick and pale like the rest of him, so beautiful and dripping for you.

Was Owen seriously asking you to leave your crew and go with him just because he liked getting fucked so much? Makes you want to laugh. You pound into him harder, the bed rattles and the neighbors bang on the wall, but you ignore it in favor of fucking Owen's tight hole.

"You really are something else, Owen," you grumble, tugging at his hair, nails digging into his lean hips, making sure all he could feel and notice was you. You wanted everyone to know what a slut he was to you, it was a shame you didn't share. "Let's talk about this later, when you can decide whether you're going to miss me or my cock."

The blond groans, rocking back against you, walls clenching and releasing around you. He continues talking, answers your question, but you don't understand under the pornographic sound he makes when you pull back, leaving only the thick tip of your cock inside before filling him again. Sinking back inside. Hard enough to knock the air from his lungs.

The neighbors bang on the wall louder, you could almost hear them cursing if it weren't for Owen having your full attention. You or your dick, he replies, maybe both. You don't know, so you just continue to abuse his tight hole until Owen's mind short-circuits and words other than 'more' and 'please' fail him.

Well, it had definitely been worth all the arguments and insults when you first met.

[elodieunderglass]

I received an extremely informative and well-researched ask on the topic of the modern UK cavalry, referencing a question about how Killie would do in a cavalry AU. I didn't have much of an answer myself, but a really informed person popped into my inbox with an essay about modern warfare!

It goes to my heart to anonymise the research as the asker should receive credit for their hard work, but that’s what they asked for and I would hate to be the vessel of work shoelaces stolen from the president, etc.

Hi, hello, I'm so sorry for the lengthy special interest lore dump but I saw the "Killie in the cavalry" post and couldn't hold back from my chance to contribute to a possible Killie AU.

Please consider anonymising this, because a work friend follows you, I've so far successfully concealed my Tumblr from them and if they see this ask they will KNOW it's me--

So yes absolutely the UK still has a cavalry!

I’ve popped the rest behind the cut with a TW for military discussion.

I am not a supporter of any military, or the military-industrial complex, but I fully appreciate it as a topic of research (I could easily get obsessed with bits of it myself) and I think it's important to be informed about how the world operates. I'm very appreciative of the information and the time it took to compile it.

Today the cavalry's operational role centres around armoured combat i.e. getting in tracked, heavily armour-plated vehicles and using them to fight the enemy.

This pretty much comes in two flavours: heavy vehicles like the Challenger tank

which are designed to fight, and light reconnaissance like the Jackal

which is designed to go forward, look at the enemy, and then run away before they can get blown up.

I can see Killie in either of these roles - obviously the instinct is recce (light, fast, sneaky) but one mustn't underestimate the extent to which a main battle tank has elements in common with a thoroughbred! It's a highly advanced and specialised killing machine which can nevertheless go *catastrophically* wrong in the most unexpected ways.

For example, tanks break down every few hundred miles, so reliably that they're followed by a huge baggage train of mechanics ready to replace the broken bits; this is a standard part of all military planning and so "normal" that any officer would look at you funny if you suggested you might perhaps be able to drive their beloved vehicle, say, half the length of the UK without calling the tank equivalent of the horse vet.

The Challenger sometimes throws a tantrum if it's too wet ( https://www.msn.com/en-ie/money/other/britain-s-challenger-2-tanks-face-setbacks-in-ukraine-war/ar-AA1uC047 ) and if something goes wrong (drove over barbed wire too quickly) the crew have to spend hours "track-bashing" - removing the tracks by hand and putting them on again:

Main battle tanks like Challenger have incredible and highly advanced armour, but once something goes wrong with them in combat, it tends to go horribly wrong. The ammunition for the main gun is all carried inside the vehicle, and if enemy fire DOES penetrate the armour, it often "cooks off" the explosive ammunition inside, leading to a chain reaction. Not a good time to be inside a sealed box.

Space is VERY tight inside even modern tanks. Four people (loader, gunner, commander, driver) are working in a space smaller than the average box room full of lethal recoiling and rotating metal that loves to eat fingers (sound familiar?). Small troopers are at a big advantage here - Killie is the ideal size; tiny enough to fit comfortably in all the crevices but strong enough to sling the (20kg) rounds for the main gun around (biceps!).

Big tanks have personalities in the way that small recce vehicles don't. Some regiments also have traditions of naming their tanks - this is more of a US thing in modern times (the UK did it in WWI but I'm not aware of it happening today) but you could absolutely bend reality a little. And O Holy Thunder is a *great* name for a main battle tank.

(Side note - in WWI, tank names started with the same letter as the squadron they belonged to. So "F" Squadron tanks would all be called things like Frolic, Firespite, Ferocious. I can see a skit where the crew desperately want to call their tank Holy Thunder but the boss won't permit it because they are part of "O" Squadron, leading to...)

Going a little further, you can put Killie in the modern cavalry and STILL have him on a horse! The Household Cavalry have a dual role as operational and ceremonial troops ( propaganda here: https://www.army.mod.uk/learn-and-explore/about-the-army/corps-regiments-and-units/royal-armoured-corps/household-cavalry-regiment/ ). Troopers rotate between the two roles. The soldiers you see outside Horseguards patiently stopping their horses from eating unwary tourists are from the Household Cavalry - Killie could be one of those troopers one year, and deployed in the desert in an armoured vehicle the next.

Note that again, while those horses are trained to be disciplined, patient and very smart, when they go wrong, they do tend to go horribly wrong, sometimes in distinctly Thunder-esque ways. You may remember the Household Cavalry horses who ran amok in central London twice last year, streaked in blood and getting into fights with buses: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c886qel3wdxo

You may also remember Obelisk, the Household Cavalry horse who got sufficiently bored that he started luring pigeons in with oats dropped from his mouth and then stamping them to death. He was subsequently taken for "psychological re-training". Peak Thunder behaviour.

As a final note, while you rightly mention the class boundaries that would make a cavalry *officer* an unlikely career for Killie (these still exist today, albeit unofficially - Cavalry officers tend to be "Country Life" types from good families called Tarquin and Hettie), there's no such restriction on the soldiers, whose demographic skews more working class and urban.

Cavalry regiments tend to have wonderfully evocative and antique names (Queen's Dragoon Guards, Royal Lancers, King's Royal Hussars) and bags of tradition, battle honours, and ceremonial kit and champagne bills that cost a good deal more than the average officer's monthly income. You don't have to have an independent income - but it helps...

If the AU needed Killie to be an officer, he'd be more likely to serve in the Royal Tank Regiment, which is armoured but *not* Cavalry. This distinction is entirely a matter of tradition & history, not operational role. The RTR is the youngest armoured regiment (founded during WWI, barely 100 years old, Johnny-come-lately compared to the 3- and 400-year legacies of the Queen's Dragoon Guards etc) and nicknamed the "Chav Cav" because it does the same job as the Cavalry without any of the class hangups.

I'd suggest, however, that Killie's... style... is more suited to Trooper Killie than Lieutenant Killie. I can't really see him dealing with the pressures and strains of being responsible for the leadership, discipline and welfare of 30 young Troopers and their vehicles. He'd have a heart attack, the poor boy.

I don't even know if Tumblr will post this monster ask but the Spirits seized me and demanded I post it before going to find breakfast. I hope it brings some joy!

Thank you very much for sharing your knowledge!

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

I gotta note all the things I have to write:

For Windbreaker's fandom--

Amnesia au with Joker & reader

Owen vs Hyuk analysis

Jay vs Hyuk analysis

Wooin's backstory analysis

Updated Sabbath members similarities

Hyuk's backstory analysis

"Stolen Star" Fantasy au based on Made Of Stardust manhwa with Wooin, Hyuk x reader.

Hummingbird flag check

Light Cavalry flag check

Kazuma crew flag check

Chris D'char flag check

Wooin vs Joker in cycling analysis

Vinny's character analysis

My opinion on windbreaker as a webtoon

Jay Jo's character analysis

Vinny and Hwangyeon's analysis

Romance in windbreaker

Wooin's love languages

Hyuk's love languages

Pungha high Wooin x secret admirer reader.

For TR fandom--

Sweet Tyranny (South x reader)

For Link Click fandom--

Xia Fei and Vein's analysis

Liu Xiao's ability

DAMN I HAVE SM TO WRITE I'M GONNA CRY😭 @shintaru bruh pooks

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

The Tragedy of Love, Death and Maggots part 5

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

With that, we were up and at it again. Brett, our resident packmule, carried the waterskins and our four bedrolls. I had our pathetically small kit of iodine and gauze, and Mrin held on to the only other true weapon we owned: a honest-to-goodness cavalry sabre. It wasn't ideal, but anything was better than the vaguely sharp rock-knives Brett and I carried. 

We trekked through hallway after hallway, heading for the corner that the cultists called home. Down an elevator shaft we went, through the hallway that no sane human could have designed, up and over a random waist length wall that existed for no reason beyond making my life troublesome.

Even as time stretched on, nothing passed between us. On a normal day, I might have bantered with Mrin, or pitched in as she and Athena bickered. We might have passed around a protein bar, or took turns trying to snatch a flying ant out of the air. We might have done anything to ward off the oppressive misery, and whiled away another hopeless day. 

But without a quarter of our crew, I didn't have it in me to get the festivities started. 

Brett, however, did have it in him to crack the ice that had built up between us. “Hey, Doc?" His voice was light as the contents of our stomachs. 

"Yeah, kiddo?" I didn't turn around, didn't look into those nervous, haunted eyes.

"Everything will be alright, right?" He sounded like Mrin, praying that good ol' Doc would reassure him, that everything would be a-okay.

I thought of Athena's eyes boring into mine, the two of us knowing better. I thought of Mrin's hopeless weeping that night, when she finally accepted that we would die in this endless nightmare. I thought of that bright little spark in Brett's heart being put out, as all beautiful things eventually were. And curse me, but I didn't want to be the one to do it. I didn't want to be responsible for being the one to sully his light.

 "Yeah," I lied. "We'll find 'thena, and we'll find some more cans of tuna or something, and then we'll all go cultist hunting." 

There was a long pause, as though Brett didn't truly believe me. It stretched and slithered and snuck into my chest, where it rested like a stone beside despair.

My joints hurt. My head hurt. My heart hurt. I didn't want to do this. My own thoughts had joined Brett's in whispering horrors to me, warning me that whatever lay in the near future would not be pleasant. 

Taglist:

@coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west, @differentnighttale

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable

(Anyone else who wants to get added can tell me in the comments, pm me, or send me an ask about it!)

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Revolution

or, (Dance Dance) Revolution

day 4! @youngroyals-events

post-s3. the gang celebrates. Wille gets his first glimpse at normal. rating: T (99% fluff, 1% light angst)

read below the cut or on ao3.

So, maybe they can’t just drive to another country straight after graduation. Linda is expecting Simon and Sara home at some point, and technically Wille is still the Crown Prince. Apparently, the fact that Kristina hadn’t sent the cavalry to chase him down didn’t actually mean he was totally off the hook just yet. 

They don’t get very far, anyway. Wille – and apparently Simon, too – had been too upset to eat anything that day, so they stop at a diner for an early dinner. The server barely gives them a second glance as their little crew occupies a booth in the back. Wille slides in and only lets go of Simon’s hand for one second so he can wrap it around the other boy’s shoulder, instead. Sara and Felice are occupied with their own conversation, so the two boys tuck themselves into the corner, touching at every possible point that could still be deemed appropriate in public company, and smile at each other like idiots. 

“Wille.” 

“Simon.”

“I am so proud of you.” 

Wille grins wider, pressing his nose into Simon’s curls and inhaling deeply. He has never felt so carefree, so happy. 

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Simon mumbles back, pressing a kiss into the back of Wille’s hand, “but I am also hungry.” 

Wille laughs and pulls a flimsy paper menu closer to them, leaning over Simon’s shoulder to browse. It all feels so normal, so perfect.

After the lake, he’d done everything to swallow the truth. To somehow come to terms with the fact that he may never see Simon again, never touch him again. He’d been grappling with that, the heartbreak of losing the love of his life again, and didn’t know how he was meant to move on. It was Simon though, the love of his life, who had made him brave enough to face the truth. Brave enough to speak to his mother with calm words, brave enough to step back from something he’d only held onto to please her, to honor Erik. He knew, because of Simon, that choosing himself, choosing his own life, was what mattered in the end. And he had. 

And now he sat here, a first taste of a normal life, in a dirty booth with flimsy menus and underwhelming food and probably a few health code violations. It is perfect. It is everything Wille had been hoping for his whole life and now he got to share it with Simon, too. 

He orders a big, greasy burger. He spills ketchup on his white shirt and does not care. He laughs wildly and kisses Simon’s cheek and does not care. For the first time, he is unconcerned about the stares, by the nagging voice in his mind, by his lack of table manners. It is perfect. 

Felice and Sara both look so happy, too, and have not stopped talking to each other. Simon keeps staring back at Wille with a dumb grin, disbelief in his eyes. Wille can’t believe it either. The relief he sees reflected there, too, means everything. He knows it hadn’t been easy for Simon to end things. He saw, on the gravel road behind the idling car, that Simon loves him just as much, just as deeply. Like a normal couple, they share drinks and feed each other fries and are generally disgustingly in love for all to witness. 

Somehow, they end up at a local arcade. Wille had been too distracted by Simon’s hand in his to notice much of the drive. The building is mostly empty, somehow, but machines ring out across the whole room in a symphony of color and sound. Wille has only ever been to one arcade; which was a crime, he thought, looking around the room. This, too, felt like a normal activity. Something you did with friends after school, a way to avoid your homework and nagging parents. 

“Come on,” Simon says, pulling Wille’s arm toward a big black box with a curtain — a photobooth. They squeeze in next to each other, Simon half on Wille’s lap. In the first picture, they both smile wildly into the camera, baring all their teeth. In the second, Wille plants a big kiss on Simon’s cheek. In the third, things begin to devolve as Simon pulls Wille in for a real kiss, and by the fourth they are too distracted to notice the flash. Eventually, they stumble out, laughing and flushed. 

Nothing but happy to follow, Wille lets Simon pull him around the arcade to a full lineup of games: air hockey, Mortal Kombat, skee-ball. Simon kicks his ass in every one, ever the competitor, and Wille doesn’t mind one bit. 

Simon gasps. “Oh, Wille, we have to.” 

He lets himself be pulled, again, to a very large machine in the back of the room. 

“Dance Dance Revolution?” 

“Yes! Get your ass up here. I want to see your moves, your Royal Highness.”

Wille rolls his eyes, but steps onto the platform, nonetheless. “You can’t call me that anymore.”

From where he’s squatted down to insert a few coins, Simon turns to look up at Wille. His smile looks almost sad, somehow. He stands back to his full height and wraps his arms around Wille’s neck.

“And thank god for that,” he smiles, pressing a quick peck to Wille’s lips. Wille hums and goes to pull Simon closer but is quickly pushed away. “Prince or not, I’m gonna destroy you.”

“I don't know about that. Some may say my dance moves are revolutionary. That’s what won you back at the Valentine Ball, isn’t it?”

“Sure, you keep tellin’ yourself that, baby.”

Wille lets Simon pick the song, something called ‘Right on Time’, and a fast beat begins pounding through the speakers as the machine counts them down. While Wille is taken aback by the sudden barrage of colors and arrows, Simon jumps right in and nails the first few steps perfectly. 

Don't you know Don't you know I'd been waiting for you? Don't you know Baby, you just showed up Right on time

Wille swears and jerks into motion, stumbling to catch up. From beside him, Simon throws his head back and laughs wildly; the most beautiful sound Wille’s ever heard.

But you have made me Feel so good Just by pulling me closer to you I close my eyes in your arms The life is simple again with you

It’s so surreal, being here, dancing to a silly upbeat song when just hours ago he thought he was doomed to love Simon from a distance for the rest of his life. Beautiful Simon, who is here now, too, grinning wildly, curls bouncing, shouting teasing words at Wille for his bad coordination. In retaliation, Wille sticks out a hand and pinches at Simon’s side, trying to throw him off balance. Simon yelps and pushes back at Wille, accusing him of cheating. He just grins wildly and tries to keep up with the beat of the song; half watching the screen, half watching Simon, like he always is. 

Can't you see Can't you see I'd been waiting for you? Can't you see Baby, you touched my heart Right on time

By the end, they’re both gasping for breath. Wille does not win the game, but he still feels on top of the world. He pulls his boyfriend into his arms, both sweaty and still breathing hard. 

“You’re so talented,” he says, smiling into Simon’s curls. 

Simon giggles and nips at Wille’s collarbone. “I can be your dance dance revolution.”

[silly-tanks-and-other-things]

This is the Ford Model 1918 3-Ton tank.

Designed in 1918 by the Ford Motor Company, it was one of the first American tanks ever produced.

The M1918 weighed only 3 tons, as the full name suggests. It was an incredibly small tank, measuring 4.3 metres (14 ft) long, 1.8 metres (6 ft) wide, and 1.8 metres tall, and having just two crew members (one driver, one gunner) in its extremely cramped hull.

Despite its engines having been pulled right out of a Ford Model T and getting discribed as anemic, the M1918 had a fairly quick top speed for the time at 12.8 km/h (8 miles/h)

Those silly arms on the back of the tank help it avoid getting stuck in ditches!

Despite being intended as a light tank, the first two prototypes didn't even have a gun. They were effectively just lightly armoured boxes that you could sit a person in.

The idea behind the M1918 was that it would be used to safely transport soldiers and weaponry onto a battlefield, though it didn't end up being very good at that.

This thing was a death box :D

It was based off of the French Renault FT-17, but is worse in almost every way possible.

When the final design of the M1918 eventually got to have a machine gun, it would still be incredibly limited in its use due to an extremely small range of motion. And although the tank does have angled armoured plating unlike SOME early tanks (looking at you, Sturmpanzerwagen A7V), the armour thickness was only a maximum of half an inch thick, leaving it vulnerable to anti-tank weaponry and concentrated machine gun fire.

On both the FT-17 and the M1918, the engines are located directly behind the crew compartment. The FT-17 has a metal divider between the engines and crew to give them time to escape in case of an engine fire.

The M1918 doesn't!

If you are operating this tank and the engines catch fire, you are dead!

Isn't that wonderful? :D

The US Army had a contract with Ford to produce 15 thousand M1918s, though testing proved the use of the tank to be quite limited compared to the readily available FT-17s. Production was halted after WW1 ended, with only 15 tanks being fully complete, and not one of them ever saw combat.

The two surviving M1918s are located in the National Armor and Cavalry Museum in Fort Benning, Georgia and the Ordnance Collection in Fort Lee, Virginia.

Sources: X , X

[zenia62]

Letter from Marshal Victor to Daendels

Translation might not be perfectly accurate as I'm only using google translate 🌙

Victor to Daendels Sienno, October 27, 11 a.m. [Registry of Victor]

The IX Corps must join the 2nd Corps as soon as possible on the Oula. The enemy has left Polotsk and seems to want to continue its operations against the II Corps. Since the 2nd is too weak to risk a battle, it is falling back on Lepel and Tschachniki.

Upon receipt of this letter, you will place at the disposal of the Governor of Vitebsk the weakest of Berg's battalions, the one that was with the artillery crews at Smolensk, to give him the means to maintain his position in that city. You will immediately march with your entire division, with no exception other than this battalion and Prince John's light cavalry in their entirety, to head for Bechenkovitschi, where you will take up position and scout ahead in the direction of Oula and Kamen. You will be careful to rid your division of all superfluous baggage and send it to Sienno with the men unfit for service; you will attach an officer to command them; only send those who are useful for fighting with you.

You have 45 versts to travel from Vitebsk to Bechenkovitschi. You will probably receive this letter tonight. By setting out very early tomorrow, the 28th, you must be in Bechenkovitschi before noon on the 29th. Let me know of your departure from Vitebsk and of your arrival at your destination.

Tell the governor of Vitebsk to send you the supplies you will need to Bechenkovitschi, advise him to be on good guard and, if he is forced to withdraw, to do so to Ostrovno.

The light cavalry will be stationed tomorrow, the 28th, at Kanievo or Boyare; it will form alliances with you and with Tschachniki's troops. If you are attacked by forces superior to yours, you will withdraw in the direction of Sienno, taking care to notify me.

I beg you, General, to always keep your troops in the greatest order and well assembled so that they are constantly ready to fight or march.

[cozyunderworld]

YUM YUM YUM

Google: How to become a burger 🍔😖

[captain-price-unofficially]

Syria - Lebanon Campaign. 11 June 1941. A Vickers Light Tank Mk VIB and crew of the Australian 6th Division Cavalry Regiment at rest during the advance into Syria.

[shintaru]

I've been here all night, & boy, got me walkin' side to side

m.list ♡ taglist

𐙚🧸ྀི ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ — INSTRUCTIONS you have to be logged into X to access these links, & the captions have nothing to do with why I chose the links ⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

A/N If you aren’t comfortable with these scroll away & read my fics instead ♡ do not force yourself to watch this, it’s 🌽links

⎛Warnings; raw, creampie, food play, size kink, rough, spanking, & choking ⎞

Tagging: @hyukwwn @wthphe1n @bfwooin @prepchii @sylith @sanzuslutttt

Chris

You’re his birthday present, Loves when you wear cute things, He loves tasting you, Size kink, Food play

Harry

Size kink, Making a mess, He’s huge, He loves tasting you, Holding you in place using your thong

Sangho

Coming home from work, Relieving stress after work, Creamy, He likes being rough, How he uses you when he’s stressed

Hwangyeon

Choking, Fingering you in his sports car, Spanking, Teasing your breasts, He loves coming inside

[laypis]

Your vessel is surrounded by Imperium ships, cannons aimed your way. The foul light they emit is sickening in its radiance as they charge up. You remember the same blasts that assailed the Gloomgraves from an Imperium ship, now it seems they'd brought the cavalry.

But before the cannons loose, a great scream echoes from above as a meteoric shape manifests in the sky. Plunging rapidly, it crashes onto a nearby ship in a roiling explosion of pure heat, and fire.

Around you, you hear other human ships being struck with explosives, cries of alarm thickening the air from both your crew, and theirs. Smoke begins to obscure the area from the damage as the barrage continues.

As the flames even out from its impactful entrance, a figure rises on the deck of the first ignited Imperium ship. A warhammer smolders in the hand of a woman with a wild grin, and dark soot in her hair. She tosses it over her shoulder with a practiced ease, and locks eyes with your captain. Her wily grin grows wider.

What will you do?

[davidshawnsown]

AFU Motorbike Battalions/Kurins

(based on real life Soviet formations during WW2)

(Inspired by Battle Order's video on Soviet Army motorcycle reconnaisance battalions under division during the Second World War as well as the real life US armored recon units of the same period)

IMU of stories the success of ad-hoc bicycle and motorbike formations in the Armed Forces of Ukraine during the Russian invasion would result in the formation of motorcycle formations of battalion size (called in Ukrainian as Mototsykletnyy batalʹyon) in elements of the armed forces to regularize these. However they follow a Westernized form of the organization of the old Soviet motorbike battalions of mechanized and armored divisions. In cavalry divisions - those armored divisions with cavalry traditions and titles honoring the Ukrainian Cossacks - these units are titled as Kurins (Mototsykletnyy kurin) with its companies named as sotnias. These battalions are armed with primarily Western and locally produced motorcycles and tricycles for their mission as support to recon and combat operations. There's plans to integrate an infantry company to those battalions in the infantry divisions.

In mechanized infantry, assault infantry and mountain infantry divisions they are organized in 4 motorbike companies each with HQ platoon, 4 motorbike platoons (one squad each manned with electric motorcycles), and a mortar and weapons section each. The armored recon company operates M59s and M113s together with the M106 SP mortar and its light tank battalion uses M10 Bookers in its tank platoons and MT-LBs in its infantry and AT platoon. The AT battery uses Jeeps and similar vehicles for the transport of their crew and they are all supported by a forward support company from their parent division and other elements. In a mountain infantry division, an additional squad is tasked within platoons for ski capability.

In a motorized infantry division the motorbike company has no weapons section. The armored recon company is armed with BTR-4s and hand-me-down LAV-3s from the United States and the light tank company uses the M113 and Scorpion.

There's a different TO&E for the battalions in armored divisions. Motorbike battalions in these, alongside the weapons section, are reinforced with two bicycle platoons and a RPG/AT motorcycle section in the motorcycle companies, the armored recon company uses Bradleys, the light tank company, aside from its M10s, uses M113s as mechanized infantry element and there's a assault gun company using Centauros from Italy and the Ukrainian produced MT-LB-12 - inspired by the assault gun troops of cavalry recon squadrons of the United States during the Second World War.

The Motorcycle Kurin of the UGF cavalry division is modeled after the armored division motorcycle battalion but is named and organized in keeping with Ukrainian Cossack cavalry heritage. However it does not have a bicycle nor RPG/AT motorbike section and its AT battery is organized into 4 platoons instead of 3.

In the AAFU's two airmobile divisions, the motorcycle battalion's recon company is armed with M113s and BTR-3s, there's no infantry platoon in the tank company and an airborne transport and rigger platoon for parachute and air assault operations is added to the forward support company.

The two marine divisions of XXX Amphibious Corps UkrMC and the planned motorbike battalions of that Corps in Mykolaiv and Kherson are organized for both ground and amphibious operations as relfected in the addition of an amphious scout platoon. However it does have an added water transport platoon in the forward logistics company for the amphibious element there and the tank company uses M59 Scorpion TDs, AMX-10 RCs and AAVP-7s. Squads using electric bikes are to be transported to the shore via other vehicles in amphibious operations before they can be unloaded for use unlike those using normal motorbikes (and those squads using bicycles) which can land to the coast via landing craft. The same vehicles in an air assault motorbike battalion's armored recon company are used in a marine motorbike battalion.

@lukeexplorer

[sjsmith56]

The Attack on New York - Chapter 14, Finding Jade

Summary: Bucky and the horse detachments prove that his strategy is the best way to fight back against the Others. The decision is made to begin taking back the large urban areas starting with New York.

Length: 4.4K

Characters: Bucky, Steve, Sam, assorted military.

Warnings: Bucky being stubborn mostly, Bucky giving a young private a hard time.

Author notes: only a couple more chapters.

<<Chapter 13

🐴 🏍️

In the two weeks before they tackled New York, Bucky, Steve, Sam, several military tacticians, and officials from the city met up with the two detachments of cavalry that Bucky had assembled. They were a rag tag crew of mounted policemen, civil war re-enactors, equestrians, leisure riders, and a few cowboys. They were transported by cargo helicopters to a larger city that Bucky had chosen and had acquired access to street maps to plan out their attack. When they landed they divided themselves up into their two detachments. Bucky put himself on the rooftop with Steve on another, both armed with rifles and ammunition while Sam monitored from above. The first detachment loaded up jury rigged flash bang carriers that would release one into their hand as required. Bucky gave the command and the crew started at the edge of the city, each one following a loop course that brought them back to their starting point. Each flash bang was set to go off at a specific time and they did, as a muffled bang sound was heard. Grabbing his ammunition and slinging his rifle Bucky jumped to the next building. Steve followed suit and the next detachment ran their routes. They alternated back and forth between the two detachments for two hours until they came to a natural barrier, a river that bisected the city. When they had completed that section Bucky signalled Steve to go down to the ground and meet there. Pulling up a manhole cover the two men went down into the storm sewers with flash lights and found they had disabled the aliens everywhere they could see as they walked to the outskirts of the city. Sam had also sent a video drone into the sewers further away and confirmed they had neutralized the Others present in that section of the city. After feeding and watering the horses they rode them across a bridge to the other side. Bucky joined the cavalry this time when another rider asked if he could be the sniper.

"I've been improving my horseback riding skills," said Bucky to Steve. "If I go back to New Mexico I might as well, right?"

Steve smiled at him and ran up to a sniper position in a building along with the other man. Bucky gave the command and like the others in that detachment tossed the explosive devices down into the street drain. Within seconds of them returning to their starting position the flash bang detonated and the next detachment took their position. For a couple of hours they alternated back and forth until a lady with a clipboard informed Bucky they had reached the maximum mileage per horse. They hadn't cleared the whole city but they had cleared about three quarters of it in total.

They stayed in motels at the edge of the city, posting guards for the horses as they let them loose in a park to feed on the grass and drink from a natural pond. The next morning they returned to where they stopped and had to backtrack a bit as several nests had expanded into some of the areas they had cleared. Within a couple of hours they had cleared the remaining parts of the city. After a quick meeting with everyone, one of the riders asked if they could please go to New York and get rid of the fucking aliens. Everyone laughed but the military tacticians looked at each other and said in their minds the attack was a go. For maximum impact they did want as many mounted detachments as possible. They would be clearing the former Naval Air Station New York, now known as Floyd Bennett Field and JFK Airport simultaneously of Others and setting up their command post at the latter. The detachments would be split between the two airfields and work a pattern from both locations eventually meeting somewhere in the middle of Long Island, while regular military detachments would handle clearing the northern part of the island in the traditional way. Once the island was cleared they would use it as their staging area to start clearing the eastern seaboard.

Steve and Bucky would be running and dropping flash bangs in areas that were inaccessible to horses with Peter flipping up the manhole covers if there were no rainwater drains. The military and police would drop snipers and police sharp shooters off via helicopter to various rooftops to cover everyone's six. The date of the attack on New York was set and everyone was told to prepare for it.

It doesn't take a hero to order men into battle.

It takes a hero to be one of those men who goes into battle.

    Norman Schwarzkopf

Bucky looked at the telephone in Steve's office and picked up the receiver then put it down again. If he phoned Jade and she didn't want to talk to him what would he do? Damn, he couldn't do it and he walked away, not wanting to be denied hearing her voice if she was still angry with him. Steve and Sam watched him leave the office.

"He didn't call," said Steve. "He was only in there a minute. Damn, he's a stubborn man."

"He's still hurting," countered Sam. "Over how he left I'm guessing. She can't refuse him if he doesn't call. Right now, not calling is easier for him."

"I wish he would call her before we head to New York today," said Steve. "She makes him feel stronger and I need him at his best."

"He will give you his all, Steve, you know that," replied Sam. "I think his developing those tactics with the horse detachments has proven that. That cyborg brain of his just won't stop."

Steve smiled at Sam, hearing that term again. It was true. Of all the things that had stayed with Bucky from his Winter Soldier years the ability to assess risks and develop tactics for specific situations had proven to be invaluable. When this was all over and they reformed the Avengers officially again he wanted Bucky in a leadership position. Whether that was as his master tactician in New York or as the leader of their western detachment based in the New Mexico bunker would be up to Bucky. He could probably do both if what Sam joked about Bucky's brain was an accurate description of him. Steve went into his office and dialled the number of Jade's ranch. Ma answered and Steve drew a breath of relief. He wanted to talk to her more than anyone.

"I can hear your mind working from across the country, Steve," said Ma, chuckling. "They're both stubborn. She wouldn't have talked to him but would have been thrilled to know he phoned. What's up with him? I've deliberately stayed out of his head."

"On the Jade front he's afraid she'll reject him," replied Steve. "But he has been preoccupied with developing tactics to use in the cities against the Others. In fact, we're headed to New York today for the big battle. He and I will be in the thick of it. Ma, I want them back together but I know she won't come to the city. So, I'm going to make the Bunker the western office of the Avengers, and Bucky to be the man in charge there. But I'm not telling him that and I don't want you to tell Jade that. It has to be his decision to go so I'm going to make it look like I'm pressuring him to stay in New York after we clear it. I'm going to allow the media access to us because I know he hates it. You wouldn't believe the number of women on social media who are crazy for him, and it drives him crazy in return. Makes him as uncomfortable as hell. I'm hoping that by putting the pressure on him here he'll make the decision to come back on his own. Ma, don't influence Jade on this. It has to be them making the decision themselves. Do you still have the ring?"

"I have it," said Ma. "When he gets here I'll give it to him. I agree with you. They have to work this out themselves. Without her gift she's got to learn to trust him at his word if she wants a life with him."

"How's Bruce?" asked Steve.

"I don't know what you mean," said Ma tersely.

Steve smiled. "I do video calls with him," he replied. "I see your sweater that I know you took with you to the ranch hanging up in the corner of the lab. He's happier so I'm guessing you're the reason."

There was silence for a moment. "We're both good," she sighed. "It wasn't something I was looking for. It just kind of happened and we enjoy each other's company."

"Good," smiled Steve, "I'm happy for both of you. Hang in there. We'll get these two back together somehow."

They said their goodbyes and Steve asked Friday if the staging areas in New York had been cleared yet. The answer was affirmative and Steve went out to make sure everything they needed was being loaded. Outside in a makeshift corral were forty five horses. Their riders were nearby questioning Bucky on what they could expect after they were transported to the staging areas on Long Island. He saw Steve and waved him over, repeating the questions.

"I have just confirmed they have cleared the staging areas and they are currently setting up corrals, water troughs and feed stations for your horses," said Steve. "There will be military units to provide security and we will also be running a sound file that the Others nearby may find distressing so that they don't approach where your horses are. I believe another mounted police detachment, the RCMP in fact, are on their way from Canada. They're going to learn from you and take that knowledge back with them after New York is cleared to start on their own larger cities. Tonight, look after your horses, relax, have a few beers, even a campfire if you want. We start taking our cities back at dawn tomorrow. Thank you, everyone, for your service."

That seemed to satisfy everyone and they went back to preparing to load themselves and their horses on the cargo planes. Bucky looked at him and smiled.

"You always seem to know how to settle people down," he said. "I wish I had your gift."

"I wish I had yours," said Steve. "This is all your doing. Who would have thought an old fashioned cavalry using improvised tactics would prove to be the most successful against a technologically advanced enemy. I looked it up. The last time a US cavalry unit was used in battle was in 1942 in the Philippines. Thank you Buck, for proving you're more than a pretty face."

Bucky smirked. "Punk," he replied. "I'm going with them. They have a horse for me. Will you transport my motorcycle? When we clear Brooklyn I want to take a ride in the old neighbourhoods, even if they've changed considerably since we lived there."

"You got it, Sarge," said Steve. "It's what you are to them, their leader. I might have settled them down but they follow you. Before this they might have been accountants and teachers and such but you turned them into soldiers. That's on you."

Bucky coloured, nodded his head and returned to the preparations as horses were now being loaded on the cargo aircraft. Less than an hour later they were airborne and although the horses were a little unsettled at the take off, they calmed down as their owners moved among them, stroking them and speaking softly to them. He sat on one of the fabric seats that lined the perimeter of the aircraft, closed his eyes and tried to meditate for the short trip to Long Island. All he could think about was Jade; her green eyes looking up at him, her soft pale hair blowing in the breeze as they walked in the wash near the Bunker, feeling her hands on his back as they made love. Blowing out his breath he opened his eyes and looked around at the assorted people who had come forward to become the first US cavalry unit to enter into battle since 1942. He got up and went to the cockpit and saw New York coming closer. The copilot looked back at him.

"We've made contact with JFK and they're putting us down there," he said. "Longer runways than the other airfield. I believe they will transport you over to that one via helicopter. You guys are crazy but I hear this approach has worked the best. I'd like to meet the guy who thought this up and shake his hand."

Bucky stuck his hand out and the copilot shook it. "That would be me," he said, with a grin. "I'm surprised as well. It was just an idea and it worked. It worked very well. Thanks for flying us in. Any idea of how rough the landing will be, considering our cargo?"

"We'll do our best," said the pilot, who also stuck his hand out for Bucky to shake. "Good luck down there. Prepare for the landing in five minutes."

Bucky nodded and went out advising his people they were landing in five minutes. He strapped himself back into a seat and waited for the bounce but the pilots did a great job and it was one of the smoothest landings that he had ever experienced. As soon as they taxied onto an area of the tarmac away from the terminal the horses were led off and led right on to cargo helicopters, most of them military Chinooks. They took ten horses at a time. Bucky went on the first transport and was happy with the setup, as were the first group of horse owners. He helped each subsequent group get their horses settled in the corrals. Only then did he search out his tent, interrupting a private who was making his bunk.

"Sorry sir," said the young private. "I'm Jones. I was hoping to be finished before you got here. I can get you something to eat right away."

"Don't call me sir," growled Bucky. "My rank in WWII was Sergeant. I would prefer you just call me Bucky."

"No can do, si...Sarge," said Jones. "We're under orders. What would you like to eat? We have burgers, spaghetti and chicken on the menu today."

"Any of it horse meat?" asked Bucky, glaring at the private.

"No sir, sorry Sarge," stammered Jones. "Horse meat is off the menu, permanently."

"Burger is fine, fries if you have them, beer or a cola," said Bucky, being intimidating and totally enjoying it.

Jones ran out and almost ran over Steve without noticing him, who stood and watched him go. "You never used to be that intimidating during the war," he said with a grin.

"That's because our guys knew what they were doing," he replied, sitting on his bunk and motioning Steve to take a chair. "This kid is a little wet behind the ears. I'll be nicer...I promise."

They sat and talked about the plan for the following day until Jones came back with his food. Steve stood up and smiled at the young private whose eyes got large at the fact that two of the most famous soldiers in history were standing before him.

"Holy...Steve Rogers," Jones stammered. "I didn't know you were on base, sir. I would have picked up some dinner for you if I had known."

"That's okay Private, I already ate," said Steve. "You just do your best for the Sarge and you'll be okay."

Bucky rolled his eyes but said thank you to the private and dismissed him. After he finished eating he put the food tray outside his door and pulled his tent flaps closed. He stripped down to his boxers and got under the blanket on the bunk. All that time that it took for him to get used to a bed and now he had to get used to a bunk again. Eventually he got to sleep and dreamed of horseback riding with Jade in the New Mexico desert.

The next morning he woke up at 05:00 and found Jones had left him some military fatigues to wear for the day. He put them on and, although they felt comfortable, thought they might be inappropriate for him to wear. He heard Steve's voice and looked outside, seeing him in fatigues as well so he let it go. Stepping out he saw Jones approaching with a mug of something hot. The young private offered it to him and held out a couple of sugar packets and a couple of coffee creamers in his other hand. Bucky took just the coffee.

"Thanks Private," he said gruffly. "Mess hall?"

"This way, Sarge," said the young man, leading Bucky through the already busy camp.

When they got to the tent he saw most of his riders there, also in fatigues. They didn't look so ragtag wearing the same clothing and he realized that was by design, to give them a sense of belonging and camaraderie. Jones asked what he wanted and went to get his food while he checked in with his riders.

"This is the best food I've eaten in months," said one of them, a grocery store produce manager in his previous life. "It's bacon, real bacon, and eggs. I could get used to this."

Jones brought the food tray for Bucky and set it down at an empty place. "Have you eaten yet, Private?" asked Bucky.

"No Sarge," was the reply.

"Take a seat," he said and offered his tray to Jones. "Eat, Private, that's an order."

Before he could protest Bucky went up and got his own food and sat next to Jones. "I don't mind you bringing me a coffee but I'm a grown man and I can stand in line for my own food, Private," said Bucky. "You're not my servant. I want you to eat at the same time I do so that if I need you to do anything during the next few days you can attend to it without missing out on your own meal. Understand?"

"Understood, Sarge," said Jones.

They ate quickly and Bucky walked to the command tent where Steve was already in talks with several military types and a man in a police uniform. Looking closely he could see a Canadian flag patch on his chest pocket and a crown above four chevrons pointing downwards on the man's uniform sleeve.

"Buck," said Steve, "Sergeant Major Tom Myers of the RCMP. Officially with their Musical Ride which has been converted to a cavalry for this attack. Buck is our guy who came up with the idea of using horses."

"Sergeant," said Myers, offering his hand. "Good thinking. Our horses are highly trained for ceremonial purposes but with the occupation there were those who wanted us disbanded. You've given us a new purpose which we will explore to the fullest. We've been practicing and have had our share of successes in some small towns. We figured we would get in on the action here in New York and return home with the experience under our belts. Then we will start training others in the process and hopefully reclaim our country."

Bucky shook his hand. "Thanks for your help today," he said. "It's not that hard, really. I wasn't even much of a horseman when I conceived the idea. I'll start out on sniper duty before I take a turn on a horse. Sergeant Major, do you have anyone acting as sniper?"

"We brought two of our tactical team members," he replied. "You just go ahead and deploy them how you see fit. We'll defer to your authority on this."

After another ten minutes conferring with everyone the order was given to prepare to attack. The horses were saddled, loaded in horse trailers and the riders piled into army trucks. They travelled on the Belt Parkway towards Brighton Beach and Sheepshead Bay. Before they got there the trucks all stopped just outside the first neighbourhood. Bucky and Steve took several snipers each and they deployed on top of buildings and houses. As they waited for the order the General in command asked Bucky to do the honours from his position. Bucky pressed his comms and gave the order to attack and the horse units started doing their thing. Within an hour they had all of Brighton Beach and the area around Coney Island cleared as well as the entire neighbourhood of Sheepshead Bay. By the end of the day they had reached almost to Atlantic Avenue to the north and Aqueduct Racetrack to the east. The other two detachments had started from JFK and gone north towards Queens, then had regrouped going south towards Rockaway Beach. It wasn't as much as they were hoping but the tacticians were happy with the progress since it was mostly residential with a lot of streets to cover. Video cameras were set in the cleared neighbourhoods both above ground and below with infra red capability to see if any nests tried to retake the the ground they had won.

The next day everyone was at the mess tent by 05:00 and ready to go before they were transported. Jones was already eating so Bucky stood in line with the others for his breakfast. They were joined by two more horse detachments, one from New Jersey and the other from the Boston area. Like the Canadians they had been training elsewhere and had success in small towns and were now ready to tackle larger population centres. They were deployed south of the Southern State Parkway going northeast while the original two detachments were deployed north of the Parkway going in the same direction. The two detachments that Bucky was with and the Canadians were deployed to take the rest of Brooklyn and as much of Queens as they could manage. Playback of the video cameras showed minimal pushback from the Others and what ground they had retaken was quickly returned to them. By the end of the day they had accomplished most of their objectives. Midway through day three the combined forces had retaken all of Long Island, setting the stage for a major offensive on the eastern seaboard.

They used the remaining half day to rest the horses and the riders while Bucky, Steve, the tacticians, and generals met to discuss the plan to retake Manhattan, the Bronx and further up to the Connecticut border. The question was brought up as to why the Others were not giving much opposition. One of the tacticians stood up and gave them the ongoing theory.

"The sound file of the woman's brain waves," he said. "It distracts the Queen and the drones are tasked with supporting her instead of defending themselves. Even the ones who do take shots at you are severely weakened. It's a last gasp effort. We also think the different hives don't cooperate with each other. The Queens are pretty selfish and seem to keep their drones for themselves."

After the meeting Bucky and Steve took their motorcycles out and rode to Brooklyn. Together, they rode the empty streets stopping at familiar landmarks that were still around. It was almost dark when they left the north end of Brooklyn. They both felt completely free as they rode on the Belt Parkway around the perimeter of the southern end of Long Island. The decision to use the island as a staging area meant that thousands of soldiers would be airlifted there in the next week to start the clean up process of clearing the sewers and water lines of the carcasses of the now dead Others. It was going to be a dirty job but really it was the best task that the soldiers could perform given the unsuccessful battles they had with the Others when they first invaded Earth. For now the cavalry units were their best option to fight the alien symbiotic species. Until that changed the military would be in charge of clean up and rebuilding.

Two days later the cavalry split themselves between the four bridges that linked Long Island to Manhattan. The two tunnels between the two locations were considered too dangerous for the horse units and the flash bang devices were loaded onto drones and robots that would drop their loads at a pre-arranged signal. On the first day they cleared up to Central Park. On the second day Bucky and Steve ran through Central Park itself so fast that the video drones could only record them as a blur. They cleared it out in less than 30 minutes and the cavalry units cleared the rest of the island of Manhattan by the end of the day.

It took the army a week to clear out the dead remains of the Others. The Army Corps of Engineers had the water, power and sewer running on a limited basis in another week. While they did so the cavalry expanded their attacks to the New Jersey shore clearing it as far north as the New Jersey Turnpike and all the way south to the Bayonne Bridge. The City of New York was officially returned to the control of the citizens at the end of the third week. In that time the Army made the decision to reinstate all their cavalry regiments that had been active in the Civil War as a gesture to restore the fighting spirit of their military. All of the civilian detachments that Bucky had started and inspired came under military control. Across the country the military appropriated horses for their soldiers to learn to ride. Many of the original participants were offered commissions to lead detachments. They all trained soldiers to ride and instruct them in the tactics that they and Bucky had developed over weeks of practice, trial and error. Bucky himself was offered a significant commission in the Army but he had seen enough action in his life time and turned it down although he agreed to be available as a military consultant if needed. For the Avengers it was time to hand off control of the fight back to those who had the resources and manpower, and go back to being just the Avengers.

Chapter 15>>

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