#alternate universe - WWII

[thezestywalru]

Hello! Thought I'd do a "two sentence Wednesday" because my brain wants me to post what I have so far for this new fic I'm writing for validation but I know if I do that, it will never be finished. 

To summarise the plot: It's Bridgerton, specifically Polin, and a 1940s post WWII au inspired by one of my favorite musicals called 'Bandstand'. Colin has just returned from the war, during which his best friend in the army was killed by a grenade. A composer and piano player before the war, he decides to write a movie musical for a radio contest, he checks in on his friend's widow, who agrees to help him write the story and lines if he writes the music. The two of them grow closer, held back by the knowledge of what he saw and the past. 

"'Find something quick,” the man warned Colin. “I’ve been to three funerals this month.”

Colin froze. He, too, had attended the funerals he could for the men he knew overseas. It wasn’t out of the ordinary. Something in the man’s tone made him pause and listen.

“Nobody’s talking about it because those lads came back fine a while ago.'"

[shutinlear53]

alternate history idea: immediately after the Empire of Japan surrenders, the US realizes its massive advantage and by the decree of an ambitious president, all available resources are pooled into producing nuclear bombs. By using them on key countries, a new era of imperial expansion is ushered, which effectively brings the entire world under one rule -- the United States of Earth.

[ciaheyhimm]

Heike Günther's Diary. (Burgundy AU)

This is an extract of my character's, Heike Günther, diary. Her story is complex, like all of the protagonists in my alternate universe.

What is "Burgundy AU", you may ask? It's an original story that I created months ago alongside my friend Sara. In this universe, Himmler took Hitler's place as the Führer in 1940 and rules with an iron fist. Goebbels, Goering, Hess, Speer and Bormann suspect that Himmler was the one that successfully killed the Führer but they had no solid proof. Reinhard Heydrich, promoted to Reichsführer-SS by Himmler, exiles them, avoiding to get rid of them and create a scandal. Heike Günther is my character (in this AU women can hold powerful positions in the Reich if they are able to pass some difficult tests and exams) and works under Himmler as his adjutant and spy (holds a high position in the SD). Her job is to keep an eye out on Heydrich as Himmler fears a possible increase of his power...

NOTE: THIS IS HISTORICAL FICTION THAT I PLAN IN THE FUTURE TO WRITE A BOOK ON. If you're interested in learning more about it, I can make some additional posts. It's up to you!

(ART NOT MINE. GENERETED ON WOMBO DREAM APP)

"I almost can't remember who I was years ago. If I would see myself now, I would probably be disappointed by my choices. I wanted so bad to become a medic and when the Great Depression came in 1929, I was able to convince my parents to let me go to a special University. My biggest dream was becoming a reality and I was so happy about it... my parents weren't as much as me as they had planned everything in the past and now I was ruining them, but they got along with it since I always had the best grades in the whole class. I always attended every lesson, even the ones that weren't important and everytime I took note of the information and continued to do some research at home thanks to the big amounts of books that I had.I had everything, I was the most lucky young woman that was living her life as a real dream. Until the worst happened. In 1933 while I was studying peacefully in my room for the next exam that I was supposed to have on the next day, SD came to my home and forced my parents to stay in the living room while they were asking them questions in a very brutal manner. Something bad must've happened. Have they done something wrong?I didn't know back then, but I realized that it was about my father. He always refused to speak about politics in my presence because he felt like I wasn't supposed to hear anything about it and that I should live my life like I always did. I didn't force him to change his opinion, because at first I didn't really care that much, I wasn't that interested in it; but when that damn day came, I almost felt like I wanted to understand what was happening, but I couldn't.I was forcefully dragged from my room and after a brief moment where I was trying to free myself, those men brought me downstairs where everyone was. I tried to talk to my parents to ask what was happening, if they were going to be okay, but I received no reply, just pure silence. Then, I met him. He was a tall man, almost in his 30s, short pure blond hair and blue eyes that were scanning them in a heartless manner, it felt like he could read their thoughts just by glancing at them. He was rather slim, however his voice didn't match his appearance. It was a strange thing coming from a man, but I couldn't care a lot about it. I was just panicking at that moment and I wanted to run away as far as possible, but couldn't. The tall man who was, by that time a Standartenführer of the SS that worked in the SD as their boss, had a squeaky and high pitched voice, it was really weird and made him look even scarier, sinister. I couldn't speak or say a single word, thoughts were running in a fast way in my mind while the man and my father were discussing in a very brutal and dark tone. I understood that my father did something wrong, that he probably was part of a rebellious organization against the new Government: the German Reich of Adolf Hitler. I just heard some SD members that were there call the mysterious man 'Reinhard Heydrich' before everything became blurry. I was about to pass out from the stress, but they somehow kept me awake. I heard Heydrich shout to his men that he wanted to interrogate both me and mom..." (continues, if you desire)

[tenth-sentence]

The only way the twentieth-century Wars of the World could plausibly have produced a wildly different outcome was by descending into all-out nuclear war.

"Why the West Rules – For Now: The patterns of history and what they reveal about the future" - Ian Morris

[wwiifanhistory]

I think you'd like this story: " The Saga of the German Empire, Vol. 1 " by WWIIFanHistory on Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/story/351614789?utm_source=android&utm_medium=com.tumblr&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=WWIIFanHistory&wp_originator=lxfszG6DV%2FjASbg%2Bh0C9z8xyzQGXsBQeGZ0KvO35WMochqrAffPss8RgZNE6TLHBMyB0qKjNBHomN%2Bx4rPB%2FT2xsl6LoDpwRIJuno8PvY8hXIbm4lgnjiK3Lcm14h0Rc

[tllgrrl]

Chapter 10 is Live!

Summary: Time has passed -- it is now 1946.

The War has ended. Everything has changed.

Or maybe nothing has.

New SarahBucky Songbook: PostModern Jukebox, WWII

New fic for the new year. I haven't written SarahBucky in a minute. I'm glad to be back to my old fave.

SarahBucky Postmodern Jukebox: WWII

Summary: The year is 1942, alternatively speaking. In this World a War is spinning across the globe. Nurse Sarah Wilson is trying to do her job in a small farming community in the NorthWestern part of France. It all goes to hell when a handsome pilot crash lands into a ditch. He brings a spark of mystery, lighting up Nurse Wilson’s quiet life, upending everything. Who is he? Can be be trusted?

Featuring alternative timeline versions of Sarah Wilson and James Bucky Barnes, in a bucolic French setting. Plenty of locals. Pining. Angst. Incredibly hot sex. And alcoholic cider drank from little bowls.

12 Chapters (already written, so I won't forget the ending, this time).

Word count (Ch 1): 1.5K words

Tags: Sarahbucky, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, AU-WWII

BEST PART? I commissioned @tllgrrl to do me a moodboard/art collage and it is just spectacular. LOOK AT IT!

Read up friends over on Ao3.

[writingwithcolor]

My alternate universe fantasy colonial Hong Kong is more authoritarian and just as racist but less homophobic than in real life, should I change that?

@floatyhands asked:

I’m a Hongkonger working on a magical alternate universe dystopia set in what is basically British colonial Hong Kong in the late 1920s. My main character is a young upper middle-class Eurasian bisexual man.  I plan to keep the colony’s historical racial hierarchy in this universe, but I also want the fantasy quirks to mean that unlike in real life history, homosexuality was either recently decriminalized, or that the laws are barely enforced, because my boy deserves a break. Still, the institutions are quite homophobic, and this relative tolerance might not last. Meanwhile, due to other divergences (e.g. eldritch horrors, also the government’s even worse mishandling of the 1922 Seamen's Strike and the 1925 Canton-Hong Kong Strike), the colonial administration is a lot more authoritarian than it was in real history. This growing authoritarianism is not exclusive to the colony, and is part of a larger global trend in this universe.  I realize these worldbuilding decisions above may whitewash colonialism, or come off as choosing to ignore one colonial oppression in favor of exaggerating another. Is there any advice as to how I can address this issue? (Maybe I could have my character get away by bribing the cops, though institutional corruption is more associated with the 1960s?) Thank you!

Historical Precedent for Imperialistic Gay Rights

There is a recently-published book about this topic that might actually interest you: Racism And The Making of Gay Rights by Laurie Marhoefer (note: I have yet to read it, it’s on my list). It essentially describes how the modern gay rights movement was built from colonialism and imperialism. 

The book covers Magnus Hirschfeld, a German sexologist in the early 1900s, and (one of) his lover(s), Li Shiu Tong, who he met in British Shanghai. Magnus is generally considered to have laid the groundwork for a lot of gay rights, and his research via the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft was a target of Nazi book-burnings, but he was working with imperial governments in an era where the British Empire was still everywhere. 

Considering they both ended up speaking to multiple world leaders about natural human sexual variation both in terms of intersex issues and sexual attraction, your time period really isn’t that far off for people beginning to be slightly more open-minded—while also being deeply imperialist in other ways.

The thing about this particular time period is homosexuality as we know it was recently coming into play, starting with the trial of Oscar Wilde and the rise of Nazism. But between those two is a pretty wildly fluctuating gap of attitudes.

Oscar Wilde’s trial is generally considered the period where gay people, specifically men who loved men, started becoming a group to be disliked for disrupting social order. It was very public, very scandalous, and his fall from grace is one of the things that drove so many gay and/or queer men underground. It also helped produce some of the extremely queercoded classical literature of the Victorian and Edwardian eras (ex: Dracula), because so many writers were exploring what it meant to be seen as such negative forces. A lot of people hated Oscar Wilde for bringing the concept to such a public discussion point, when being discreet had been so important.

But come the 1920s, people were beginning to wonder if being gay was that bad, and Mangus Hirschfeld managed to do a world tour of speaking come the 1930s, before all of that was derailed by wwii. He (and/or Li Shiu Tong) were writing papers that were getting published and sent to various health departments about how being gay wasn’t an illness, and more just an “alternative” way of loving others. 

This was also the era of Boston Marriages where wealthy single women lived together as partners (I’m sure there’s an mlm-equivalent but I cannot remember or find it). People were a lot less likely to care if you kept things discreet, so there might be less day to day homophobia than one would expect. Romantic friendships were everywhere, and were considered the ideal—the amount of affection you could express to your same-sex best friend was far above what is socially tolerable now.

Kaz Rowe has a lot of videos with cited bibliographies about various queer disasters [affectionate] of the late 1800s/early 1900s, not to mention a lot of other cultural oddities of the Victorian era (and how many of those attitudes have carried into modern day) so you can start to get the proper terms to look it up for yourself.

I know there’s a certain… mistrust of specifically queer media analysts on YouTube in the current. Well. Plagiarism/fact-creation scandal (if you don’t know about the fact-creation, check out Todd in the Shadows). I recommend Kaz because they have citations on screen and in the description that aren’t whole-cloth ripped off from wikipedia’s citation list (they’ve also been published via Getty Publications, a museum press). 

For audio-preferring people (hi), a video is more accessible than text, and sometimes the exposure to stuff that’s able to pull exact terms can finally get you the resources you need. If text is more accessible, just jump to the description box/transcript and have fun. Consider them and their work a starting place, not a professor. 

There is always a vulnerability in learning things, because we can never outrun our own confirmation bias and we always have limited time to chase down facts and sources—we can only do our best and be open to finding facts that disprove what we researched prior.

Colonialism’s Popularity Problem

Something about colonialism that I’ve rarely discussed is how some colonial empires actually “allow” certain types of “deviance” if that deviance will temporarily serve its ends. Namely, when colonialism needs to expand its territory, either from landing in a new area or having recently messed up and needing to re-charm the population.

By that I mean: if a fascist group is struggling to maintain popularity, it will often conditionally open its doors to all walks of life in order to capture a greater market. It will also pay its spokespeople for the privilege of serving their ends, often very well. Authoritarians know the power of having the token supporter from a marginalized group on payroll: it both opens you up directly to that person’s identity, and sways the moderates towards going “well they allow [person/group] so they can’t be that bad, and I prefer them.”

Like it or not, any marginalized group can have its fascist members, sometimes even masquerading as the progressives. Being marginalized does not automatically equate to not wanting fascism, because people tend to want fascist leaders they agree with instead of democracy and coalition building. People can also think that certain people are exaggerating the horrors of colonialism, because it doesn’t happen to good people, and look, they accept their friends who are good people, so they’re fine. 

A dominant fascist group can absolutely use this to their advantage in order to gain more foot soldiers, which then increases their raw numbers, which puts them in enough power they can stop caring about opening their ranks, and only then do they turn on their “deviant” members. By the time they turn, it’s usually too late, and there’s often a lot of feelings of betrayal because the spokesperson (and those who liked them) thought they were accepted, instead of just used.

You said it yourself that this colonial government is even stricter than the historical equivalent—which could mean it needs some sort of leverage to maintain its popularity. “Allowing” gay people to be some variation of themselves would be an ideal solution to this, but it would come with a bunch of conditions. What those conditions are I couldn’t tell you—that’s for your own imagination, based off what this group’s ideal is, but some suggestions are “follow the traditional dating/friendship norms”, “have their own gender identity slightly to the left of the cis ideal”, and/or “pretend to never actually be dating but everyone knows and pretends to not care so long as they don’t out themselves”—that would signal to the reader that this is deeply conditional and about to all come apart. 

It would, however, mean your poor boy is less likely to get a break, because he would be policed to be the “acceptable kind of gay” that the colonial government is currently tolerating (not unlike the way the States claims to support white cis same-sex couples in the suburbs but not bipoc queer-trans people in polycules). It also provides a more salient angle for this colonial government to come crashing down, if that’s the way this narrative goes.

Colonial governments are often looking for scapegoats; if gay people aren’t the current one, then they’d be offered a lot more freedom just to improve the public image of those in power. You have the opportunity to have the strikers be the current scapegoats, which would take the heat off many other groups—including those hit by homophobia.

In Conclusion

Personally, I’d take a more “gays for Trump” attitude about the colonialism and their apparent “lack” of homophobia—they’re just trying to regain popularity after mishandling a major scandal, and the gay people will be on the outs soon enough.

You could also take the more nuanced approach and see how imperialism shaped modern gay rights and just fast-track that in your time period, to give it the right flavour of imperialism. A lot of BIPOC lgbtqa+ people will tell you the modern gay rights movement is assimilationalist, colonialist, and other flavours of ick, so that angle is viable.

You can also make something that looks more accepting to the modern eye by leaning heavily on romantic friendships that encouraged people waxing poetic for their “best friends”, keeping the “lovers” part deeply on the down low, but is still restrictive and people just don’t talk about it in public unless it’s in euphemisms or among other same-sex-attracted people because there’s nothing wrong with loving your best friend, you just can’t go off and claim you’re a couple like a heterosexual couple is.

Either way, you’re not sanitizing colonialism inherently by having there be less modern-recognized homophobia in this deeply authoritarian setting. You just need to add some guard rails on it so that, sure, your character might be fine if he behaves, but there are still “deviants” that the government will not accept. 

Because that’s, in the end, one of the core tenants that makes a government colonial: its acceptance of groups is frequently based on how closely you follow the rules and police others for not following them, and anyone who isn’t their ideal person will be on the outs eventually. But that doesn’t mean they can’t have a facade of pretending those rules are totally going to include people who are to the left of those ideals, if those people fit in every other ideal, or you’re safe only if you keep it quiet.

~ Leigh

[thelikesofus]

Buddie Fic Recs

This is my 5th Buddie Rec List! I started compiling this list last April and omg looking back through them now I desperately need to reread them all. Highly recommend all of these fics, also please show the authors some love in their comments xx Happy Easter lovelies <3 REMINDER TO CHECK THE TAGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS

where our eyes are never closing by @rewritetheending | T | 6k

After the lightning strike, Buck asks Eddie to take candid photos of him to help prove to Buck that he still exists. Absolute PEAK Softness. Buck through Eddie's eyes! I was a mushy puddle by the end. 10/10 would recommend. 

i got all my sisters with me by @useramor | T | 6k

Established relationship Buddie. Eddie’s sister has a baby and they travel down to Texas to meet the baby. DIAZ SIBLINGS UNITE! Seriously though the sibling dynamic in this is off the charts and Buck and Eddie are sickeningly in love, it is quite beautiful.

meet me where the tide comes in by @iinryer | G | 4k

A 3+1 fic about Eddie getting kissed on the head. FOREHEAD KISSES PTSD MORE HEAD KISSES AND BOYS IN LOVE!! Need I say anything more??

The one where Buck gets turned into a dog by @911onabc | G | 9k

Law Suit era BUT WAIT WAIT….DOG BUCK!! I am a sucker for fic where one of them gets turned into an animal. They are much more free with their affection when they think it's just a dog, or just a cat, and the bond between Eddie and "Boy" is so so wonderful. And I do love a happy ending xx

can't do this anymore (do it anyway) by @chronicowboy | T | 2k

Short and sweet but GOD this packs a punch. Eddie starts dating after the lightning strike and Buck is feeling Big Bad about it. He is so sad it truly breaks my heart but all works itself out in the end and Eddie proves Buck’s fears wrong.

We Found Each Other (Over There)  by @thekristen999 | T | 46k

Buddie WWII AU. A combat medic and a G.I. meet during one of the world’s greatest battles. This fic is a legitimate masterpiece. I cannot describe to you the quality of this fic because it is beyond words but I will tell you I stayed up until 3:30 am to finish it in one sitting and was left broken but made so so whole again. 

the mortifying ordeal of being known by @the-amber-raven | G | 60k

AU where Bobby is Buck’s adoptive Dad and Eddie is dating Buck but Eddie and Bobby think they are talking about two different people. Buck is training at the fire academy but hiding it from Bobby. This fic is the most beautiful tangle of miscommunication, love and family. 

like all good things are by @try-set-me-on-fire | T | 7k

Perfect, amazing, soul-destroying, magical, healing Fic. This literally covers all the bases. Chim and Bobby both get injured. OH! and Buck and Eddie were secretly dating all along. READ THIS FIC PEEPS!

find a way to you (if it kills me) by @eddiediazes  | M | 19k

The one where Eddie decides to start dating again, Buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief. BUCK PINING LV.10000000!

and i’d choose you (in a hundred lifetimes) by @monsterrae1 | E | 16k

Amnesia Exes fic by the wonderful Rae. Buck and Eddie fall in love via a penpal program and then Buck vanishes. This fic is set four years later. I literally could not put it down. I was reading it in class and then sat in my car for who knows how long just to finish it because I could not continue my day without knowing how it ended.

he never thinks of me (except when i'm on TV) by @loserdiaz | M | 18k 

APRIL'S FAMOUS!BUCK AND ARMY!EDDIE FIC!! In which Eddie finds out years later that his unrequited feelings for his high school best friend were not actually unrequited, Buck is stupidly famous now and they pine. OH THEY PINNNEEEEE! It’s delicious. 

every time we stop talking (the universe starts screaming) by @chronicowboy | M | 21k 

Alternative S7, Buddie Divorce Era Pt.2. Buck does something reckless and Eddie gets angry about it but these boys cannot communicate effectively to save their lives! This fic is peak angst to a happy ending and I felt like I had a hole in my chest OMG.

left your mark on this heart by @chronicowboy | G | 5k

Buck gets medically diagnosed with butterflies and the doctor makes him write in a notebook every time it happens. Surprise, surprise, the cause and effect is Eddie-related. The notebook entries kill me in the best way, the happiest happy ending

ALSO, YES THIS IS THE THIRD FIC BY THE SAME AUTHOR ON THIS LIST WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT?? READ IT IS WHAT! COS THEY'RE SO DAMN GOOD. 

endless numbered days by @cal-daisies-and-briars | G | 13k 

Buck and Eddie's wedding but from Bobby's POV as Bobby reflects on the family he lost and the one he gained. Absolutely beautiful, I cried.

don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck | T | 14k

Chris wants dating advice so obviously Buck and Eddie decide to Fake Date for research purposes. This fic is PEAK adorable, sappy, and awkward Buddie. They’re idiots but we love them and the certainly love each other. READ THIS FIC! 

[michele-apricity]

𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓪 ˙⟡🪶─

𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒗 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

Some of my favourite movies and tv shows that I keep rewatching literally all the time, also fit the dark academia aesthetic...

𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒔

Dead Poets Society (1989)

A timeless film about the power of literature and the consequences of challenging societal norms in a boarding school.

The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

A psychological thriller drenched in luxury, deception, and the pursuit of identity.

Kill Your Darlings (2013)

Follows young Allen Ginsberg and his entanglement in a murder during his time at Columbia University.

Atonement (2007)

A visually stunning film about love, betrayal, and regret, with an air of intellectual melancholy.

The Imitation Game (2014)

A story of genius and tragedy, focusing on Alan Turing’s work during WWII.

The Riot Club (2014)

A dark examination of privilege and elitism among Oxford students in a secret society.

Harry Potter Series (2001-2011)

Especially The Prisoner of Azkaban, which captures the darker, atmospheric tones of the series.

Crimson Peak (2015)

A Gothic romance with haunting visuals and themes of mystery and intellect.

The Oxford Murders (2008)

A mystery set at Oxford University, blending logic, philosophy, and crime-solving.

The Theory of EVerything (2014)

A poignant biopic about Stephen Hawking’s life, featuring beautiful academic settings.

𝒕𝒗 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

The Umbrella Academy (2019-2024)

While more fantastical, its themes of family, ambition, and intellectualism align with dark academia. (we're going to act as if the 4th season never happened)

Sherlock (2010-2017)

A modern take on Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective stories, with a focus on intellect and mystery.

The Queen’s Gambit (2020)

A visually stunning series about genius, competition, and the pressures of academia-like environments.

Penny Dreadful (2014-2016)

A Gothic series weaving together classic literary characters with dark, intellectual themes.

How to Get Away with Murder (2014-2020)

A thrilling blend of academia and crime, revolving around law students entangled in murder mysteries.

Derry Girls (2018-2022)

Though comedic, the show captures an academic setting with themes of friendship and youthful rebellion.

The Magicians (2015-2020)

A fantasy series with a dark academia feel, featuring a secret university for magic and complex moral questions.

His Dark Materials (2019-2022)

A richly intellectual fantasy series set in an alternate, academic-focused world.

Gilmore Girls (2000-2007)

While lighter, it captures the love of books, academia, and witty intellectual banter.

Shadow and Bone (2021-)

A mix of dark fantasy and the kind of rich world-building that appeals to dark academia enthusiasts.

Let me know your favourite movies and/or tv shows that I should watch.

-michala♡

[phoenixyfriend]

Can you explain the Iran-Israel situation please?

Alright, let's get to it. Please note that I'm writing this on mobile during my lunch break, so I can't include reference/source links as much as I'd like. Thankfully, most of what I'm going to be telling you should be easily located by searching for an article on one of the following: APNews, Reuters, BBC Global News Podcast, Democracy Now!, NPR, or The New York Times. Long-term background is probably best found in videos by the YouTube channels Real Life Lore or tldr global news, or on Wikipedia if you prefer text.

The short version: Israel attacked Iran's consulate in Syria to get at some of the military commanders that were there, which is legally equivalent to attacking Iran itself. Iran responded by sending about 300 bombs at Israel, most of which were shot down in transit. Given that they still called it a success, even though it seems only one person was even hurt, my understanding is that it's very likely that they only intended the rockets to be a show of force, rather than an actual escalation, because Iran can't afford a war right now.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post OR this post.

The long version:

Okay, let's start with some background on Israel, then Iran. This is... a lot, so if you already know the broad strokes skip down to 2023.

Israel was established following WWII by the English and French, following borders the two countries had secretly drawn up decades earlier in the Sykes-Picot agreement. The intent was to give the Jewish people a place to go... or, depending on who you ask, a place to send them. Their ancestral homeland was viewed as the best choice, sort of like a deportation millennia after a diaspora. Given that WWII had just ended by the time Sykes-Picot was actually put into effect, 'getting out of Europe' was something a lot of Jews were given to agree with.

The Arab world was not happy, as that land had belonged to the Ottomans for centuries, and had long since 'naturalized' to being Arab. I'm not going to pretend to know the nuances to when people do or do not consider Palestine to have been its own nation; it was an Ottoman state until WWI, at which point it came under British control for just under three decades, and that period is known as the British Mandate of Palestine; it ended after WWII, with the creation of Israel. Palestine's land and people have sort of just been punted around from one colonizer to another for centuries.

Iran is the current form of what was once Persia. They were an empire for a very long time, and were a unitary monarchy up until the early 20th century; in 1925, Iran elected a Prime Minister who was then declared the monarch. The following several decades had Iran's monarchy slowly weakened, and occasionally beset by foreign interventions, including a covert coup by the US and UK in 1953. The country also became more corrupt throughout the 1970s due to economic policy failing to control inflation in the face of rising oil prices.

In 1979, there was a revolution that overthrew the monarchy and the elected government, replacing the system with a theocracy and declaring Iran to be an Islamic Republic, with the head of state being a religious authority, rather than an elected one. This was not popular with... most countries. 1980 saw the closure of all universities (reopened in 1983 with government-approved curriculums), as well as the taking of over fifty American hostages from the US Embassy in Iran. You may have heard about that in the context of Ronald Reagan encouraging Iran to keep the hostages until the end of Carter's term in order to force the election.

So, the West didn't like having an Islamic state because it claims to like democracy, and also because the Islamic state was explicitly anti-American and this has some Bad Effects on oil prices. The Soviets didn't like having an Islamic State because a theocracy goes directly against a lot of communist values (or at least the values they claim to have), and weakened any influence their supposedly secular union could have on Iran and the wider middle east. The other countries in the Arab world, many of them still monarchies, didn't like the Islamic republic because if the revolution spread, then it was possible their monarchies would be overthrown as well.

(Except Oman, which is not worried, but that's the exception, not the rule.)

This is not a baseless worry, because Iran has stated that this is its goal for the Arab world. Overthrow the monarchies, overthrow the elected governments, Islamic Rule for everyone. That is the purpose of its proxies, like Hezbollah (Lebanon), the Houthis (Yemen), and Hamas (Palestine), along with less well-known groups like the Salafi Jihadists in Mali, who are formally under the umbrella of al-Quaeda, which Iran denies having any relation to but is suspected of funding. In areas where these proxy groups have gained power, they are liable to enact hard Shari'a law such as has happened in Northern Mali and other parts of the Sahel region.

While other conflicts have occurred in these countries, I think the above is most relevant.

Israel has repeatedly attacked, or been attacked by, other nations in the middle east, as they are viewed as having taken over land that is not theirs, and as being a puppet of the US government. The biggest conflicts have been 1947-1948, 1968/1973, and 2014.

And then, of course, 2023.

Now, Iran, more than any other nation in the Middle East, hates Israel. They have for a very long time, viewing them as an affront to the goal of spreading Islam across the whole of the middle east, and as being a front and a staging ground for the United States and other Western powers. Two common refrains in the slogans of Iran and its proxies are "Death to America" and "Death to Israel."

Due to Iran's military power and virulence towards Israel, the United States has been funneling money to Israel for decades. It has more generally been to defend itself against the Arab world at large, but it has narrowed over the decades to being about Iran and its proxies as relations have normalized with other nations like Egypt and Saudi Arabia.

Cue October 7th, 2023. Hamas invades Israeli towns, kills some people, and takes others as hostage. Israel retaliates, and the conflict ramps up into what is by now tens of thousands of dead, some half of which are children.

In this time, Hamas's allies are, by definition, Iran and the other proxy forces. Hezbollah, being in Lebanon, share a border with Israel's north. They have been trading rocket fire across the border in waves for most of the past six months. The Houthis, down in Yemen, claim to be attacking the passing cargo ships in order to support Palestine. Given that the attacks often seem indiscriminate, and that the Houthi's control over their portion of Yemen is waning in the face of their poor governance, this is... debatable. It's their official reason, but given that "let's attack passing ships, claiming that we only attack Israeli or American ships and that it is to support Palestine" is rallying support domestically for their regime, it does seem to be more of a political move to garner support at home than about supporting Palestine.

Iran, however, has not attacked Israel. They've spoken out about it, yes, but they haven't done anything because nobody wants a regional war. Nobody can afford it right now. Iran is dealing with a domestic crisis due to oil subsidies bleeding the states' coffers dry, and the aging Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, the leader of Iran, refusing to pick a successor. They are looking at both an economic crisis and succession crisis, and a regional war would fuck up both situations further. Iran funds most of its proxies, and they can't do that, and fight a war on top of it, while their economy is in its current state. Pure self preservation says they don't want a war, especially with the ongoing unrest that's been going on for... well, basically since the revolution, but especially since the death of Mahsa Amini.

Meanwhile, in Israel, Netanyahu has been looking at corruption charges and legal issues since before the Hamas attack. It's generally agreed that if Israel were to hold new elections right now, he would lose and be replaced, and also immediately taken to court. Netanyahu wants to stay in power, and as long as the war on Hamas lasts, he is unlikely to get voted out. A change in leadership in the middle of a war is rarely a good idea for any country, and he's banking on that.

However, the war on Hamas rests on the shoulders of American money and supplies. Without that military support, Israel cannot fight this war, and America... is losing patience.

Officially, America and most of the western world have been telling Israel to not fucking escalate for the majority of the war.

There have been implied threats, more or less since Schumer's big speech about how Israel needs a new election, of American legislators putting conditions on any future aid. There have even been rumblings of aid being retracted entirely if Israel follows through on invading Raffah.

So...

American aid to Israel has, for a very long time, been given in the name of defending Israel against Iran and its proxies.

Israel has been fighting this war against Hamas for six months, killing what is by now innumerable civilians, on the power of US military aid.

Netanyahu benefits from the continued war due to domestic troubles.

Iran does not want a regional war, or really any big war, due to its own domestic troubles.

The US is, in theory, losing patience with Israel and threatening to pull the plug on unconditional support. It's very "we gave you this to fight Iran. Stop attacking civilians. If you keep attacking civilians, then you're going to have to rely on what we already gave you to fight off Iran so that you won't keep wasting it on civilians."

Israel... attacks Iran, prompting a response, and is now talking about escalating with Iran.

I am not explicitly saying that it looks to me like Israel, which is already fighting a war on two physical fronts and even more political/economic ones, has picked a fight with Iran so that America feels less like it is able to withdraw support.

I just... am finding it hard to understand why Israel, which is in fact fighting both Hamas and Hezbollah, would attack the Iranian consulate in Syria otherwise. They can't actually afford to fight this war, escalating to a full regional conflict, on a third front.

Not without pressuring American into keeping the faucet of military funding open at full blast.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post OR this post.

[kitsune024]

|| Part 1 ||

Never Like This by Faith Wood (faithwood) I Chapters 5/5 I Completed Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Identity Reveal, Identity Porn, Recovery, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, First Time

The Winter Soldier thrashed, drowning. It was taking forever. His mask seemed to be stuck. He pulled on it, struggling to draw breath, sinking and resurfacing, clawing at his face, the panic in his eyes terrible. Steve's would-be killer. The very worst HYDRA had ever conjured. A symbol of death and everything he stood against. And Steve just couldn't bear it. He was ready to go, but this guy clearly wasn't.

As Time Goes By by Trouble_With_The_Snap I Chapters 14/14 I Completed hurt no comfort, your not gonna like Steve here, Peggy/Steve, Consequences, Endgame

Steve returns the Infinity Stones, and then he returns to Peggy. He believes that he’s prepared to live out the twentieth century with her as an ordinary civilian, even if the inexorable passage of time finds him increasingly haunted by the ghosts of futures past. It’s everything he’s wished for. Nothing comes without a price.

These Things That I've Done by Goody-Goodie I Chapters 4/4 I Completed FFN Slash if you squint, WWII hurt/comfort 

When the Howling Commandos are captured by Hydra, everyone expects them to take Steve away to experiment on but the Hydra science division is much more interested in Sergeant James Barnes.

Bad Becomes Worse by @monicawoe I Chapters 2/2 I Completed Withdrawal, PTSD, Hydra Captain America: The First Avenger, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, angst

Good becomes great. Bad becomes worse.Angsty Post-Zola Bucky and Steve. Also, sex in tents. With biting.

Lies and Sins by @icarusdusoleil I Chapters 1/1 I one shot Peggy/Steve(Implied), Bucky/Steve(implied), World War II, Violence

Agent Peggy Carter asks Bucky to work behind Steve's back. Like a good soldier, Bucky follows orders. Neither of them forgive themselves.

All Wars End the Same by kodakren I Chapters 5/? I World War II, BAMF Bucky, Slow Burn, Medical Torture, Human Experimentation, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, poor bucky, PTSD, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Touching, Dissociation

Death is not the worst thing that can happen to a man. To break him, you must first shatter his body—again and again and again. Then, you take his mind, his will, his name. You strip him down to something unrecognisable, reshape him into something he was never meant to be. Survival is its own kind of cruelty, and some wounds don’t heal. Some don’t even scar. Because war doesn’t just take—it remakes. It chews men up and spits them out as something else: hollowed out, stitched haphazardly, and left to stumble forward. No side is ever truly victorious, not when the battlefield becomes a graveyard, and the survivors are left carrying its ghosts. No matter who wins, the cost is always the same: death. the weight of what can never be undone. All wars end the same. - This is the story of Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, and the Howling Commandos. The war they fought. The men they lost. The scars they carried. The love that blossoms, even in the darkest of places, far behind enemy lines. Before the ice. Before the Winter Soldier. Before it all got worse .

Stucky with Fanart

The Good Morrow by @harkbananas I Chapters 14/14 I Completed Dreamsharing, Memory Loss, Food, Diners, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier Dragging Me Down by @cleo4u2,@cobaltmoony,  @xantissa I Chapters 17/17 I Completed alternative universe, Action/Adventure, Depression, Mind Control, Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst, Happy Ending Dark as Blood by @heartoferebor I Chapters 5/5 I Completed Peggy/Steve, Bucky/Steve, Bucky and Peggy get along really well cause fuck love triangles for bad drama, World War II, Blood Magic, AU, Pining, Torture, Medical Torture, Alcohol Meet Me On The Darkest Night by @cryofreeze70-blog I Chapters 10/10 I Completed Peggy/Steve(But she really just flirts with him), Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, World War II, Protective Bucky Barnes, Steve's identity crisis, Rescue Mission, Mission Fic A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall by DisraeliGears I Chapters 4/4 I Completed AU- Steve Doesn't Crash the Valkyrie, Steve doesn't go in the ice, Bucky is still the Winter Soldier, War, grief, fic spans 1945-1979

Bookmark Series

Revenant by @stele3 I Chapters:11/11 I Completed Read tags Dehumanization, Mind Control, Hostage Situations, slightly AU, suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts

[hyperpotamianarch]

So, tommorow is `Asarah BəTevet, which was declared by the Chief Rabbinate of Israel to be Yom HaKaddish HaClali, the day to say Kaddish over those whose date of death is unknown. It was kind of an attempt to make an alternative to Yom HaSho'ah, since the latter occures during Nissan in which it is forbidden to mourn, but it didn't catch all too well.

However, this day is tied with the memory of the Holocaust. And I said, about a month ago, that I will tell my family's story on this day. So here it is. I will go from the Paternal side to the Maternal side, for simplicity's sake - this way, I won't have to state which great-grandparent it is exactly every time. I know I technically don't have to either way, but I'm pedantic and like to do things like that.

So, my first great grandfather lived in France. That's something all four of my paternal great grandparents have in common, as my grandparents got married in France and only later came to Israel. Anyway, he was born in Paris, but his family moved to Alsace at some point. They had monetary trouble, and he had to drop school to work. But that was long before the war.

By the time WWII came by, my great-grandfather (shortened to g.g.f. in future instances) and one of his brothers were serving in the French military. Outside of this brother, my g.g.f. had three brothers and two sisters I can remember. Some of them will be relevant later. Anyway, my g.g.f. and his brother both served in the Maginot line. Which, as you probably know, ended up being somewhat useless when the German army invaded through Belgium. They got orders to surrender, but the French soldiers still had time before the Germans will come to take them as PoW. They butchered a large cow to eat, though not in a Kosher way, so my g.g.f. asked the local rabbi if he should eat from it. The rabbi told him yes.

My g.g.f. spent the rest of the war in a German PoW camp. I think it was one specifically for Jewish prisoners, but it wasn't exactly like the Concentration Camps set up in Eastern Europe. He was forced to work at a shoe factory, I don't think the meals were any more Kosher than the one he had before being imprisoned, and their conditions weren't too good - but they seemed to have been fine. My g.g.f.'s brother who also served in the military - let's call him Henry - had run away, but my g.g.f. hadn't, leading me to think they weren't in the same camp. What I know of his imprisonment is that he was considered an expert in diviiding a round bread to seven equal parts (my dad think it means he was trusted by other prisoners to divide the food), and that he and the factory owner once collected a bunch of bedbugs from the beds of the prisoners to threaten the Nazi overseer with if he didn't give them better conditions.

Henry, as mentioned before, has escaped to join the Résistance. However, he was eventually caught by the Nazis and executed. In the meanwhile, the rest of my g.g.f.'s family have moved to southern France, to live under the Vichy regime - which was still antisemitic, but it wasn't Nazi Germany. There, my g.g.f.'s brother who we'll call Paul had gotten married to the woman who later committed her experience from the war to a book. My g.g.f.'s two sister went to the university there, I believe. One day, the Nazis came to collect all the Jewish students. Now, one of the two sisters seemed stereotypically Jewish, while the other did not, so the Nazis didn't think she was Jewish. When they took her sister, she told them that she was her sister in a futile effort to save her. Both have been killed in Auschwitz.

By the time the war was over, my g.g.f.'s father has lost three of his children, and didn't know what happened to the fourth. He died during Pesach of that year. I was told that when my g.g.f. was on his way to his family, he stopped to pray in a synagogue somewhere. One of the synagogue goers, who knew him, asked him why he didn't say the Kaddish. That was how he learned that his father died.

Moving forward to the woman who would become his wife, my great grandmother (henceforth g.g.m.): she lived with her family for the war, I believe. Her father was a lawyer who was involved in a lawsuit against a high-ranking member of the Nazi party who had sexually assaulted a French teacher. I'm not aware of all the details, but due to that the Nazis had a special interest in him. He had started the war in Paris, but fled south before the Nazis arrived. He stayed in southern France for a while and worked in the local Agudat Yissra'el chapter. Eventually, though, he had to flee with his family to Switzerland. I have a book written by my g.g.m. and her siblings about him and the war, but I didn't read it yet.

In regards to my other paternal great grandparents, I only know of their experience from the war vaguely. Both families have lived in Alsace, though in different cities, and spent the war hiding in villages, moving from village to village whenever necessary. It wasn't great, but they survived. I should probably try to learn more about this side, and it should be possible considering this is my last remaining great-grandmother, but she doesn't speak Hebrew too well and I have some trouble communicating with her. One thing she did tell me was that it's not good for Jews to learn the German language. A language which she herself knows decently, as she was born in Alsace and Alsatian, one of the commonest languages there, is more or less German. So there's that.

The other side has very different stories. My g.g.f. on there was born to a Chabadnik family in Czarist Russia and grew there through the rise of Communism. Now, when I say "Chabadnik" you have a very specific image in your mind. It won't be accurate for my g.g.f.'s time, because the latest Lubavitcher Rebbe (Z"L) has changed much in how they operate. Plus, I have my suspicions that he belonged to the Kopust brunch - suspicions that can't be confirmed due to a couple of reasons, one of them being that the Kopust Ḥassidut basically died out in the Holocaust.

My g.g.f. himself studied in an underground Yeshivah until he and his brother managed to get certificates to go to Mandatory Palestine. That happened in the early 30s, which is why this side of my family is different: most people in it managed to get to Eretz Yisra'el before the war even started. By the time it did, my g.g.f. was studying in a Musarnik Yeshivah - which, yes, is a bit weird for a Chabadnik. But to believe my grandfather, my g.g.f. ended up not being that much of a ḥassid.

Out of the rest of his family, I don't really know who died and who survived. He had a twin sister who died before the war, as (probably) did his parents. Some pf his other siblings survived as well. He himself became an author and wrote - among others - a book about a German Jewish family during the Holcaust. Non of it was written from personal experience as far as I know, though.

My g.g.m., his wife, was slightly less lucky. By the time she left Poland the Nazi invasion was just about to start. She barely left with one of the last ships to set sail from the area. She also had to fictitiously marry someone to get a certificate to get to her relatives in Eretz Yisra'el. Outside of the siblings that managed to get there before the war, though... the rest of her family died, as would've been her fate had she just missed her ship.

My last g.g.f. was Hungarian. Thus, for most of the war he didn't live under Nazi occupation - instead, he fought in the Hungarian army. Which also had an antisemitism problem, but it was durable. Towards the end of the fighting he got some sharpnel stuck in his leg and was send to recuperate in a hospital. While he was there, Hungary has resigned, and the doctor told him and another Jewish patient to leave because the Nazis have asked to be given the Jews. My g.g.f. obliged, even though he still didn't completely heal from his wound. The other Jew didn't. I don't think we know for sure what happened to him, but the "Final Solution" was applied to Hungarian Jews a bit more hastily than the others due to the Germans realizing they're about to lose. Which is to say, the Nazis tried to kill them faster.

My g.g.f. hadn't managed to hide from the Nazis forever, though. He was taken to a concentration camp eventually and was forced to participate in the Death Marches. We actually have a full video of him describing his Holocaust experience, which is I think the closest to a typical experience I have in my family. It's a bit hard to discern what he's saying in it, though, and I don't remember much. I do remember that he seemed to be very resourceful - he still had trouble walking from the sharpnel for a couple of years afterwards, but he still managed to survive the Death Marches. Upon being freed, one of his first decisions was to go to Eretz Yisra'el nearly immediately.

I'm pretty sure most of his family actually survived, oddly enough. For the one typical Holocaust survivor in my family (TM), he had a surprisingly happy ending. It still took getting through a bunch of bad things to get to it, though.

My last g.g.m. has gotten to Eretz Yisra'el when she was 13, a couple of years before the war, with her family. They survived, though their more distant relatives... well, one story I've heard from my grandmother is that there was much excitement when someone with the same last name as her maiden one was. However, I'm pretty sure this side of the family also has relatives in the Americas, and I know of one that lived in France who died just a couple of years ago, so it wasn't the entirety of the distant family as well.

And that's it, I suppose. That's what I know about my family history in the Holocaust. So I have relatives who died, and I'm alive today because my mother's side were Zionists.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi!!! Big fan of your recs lists! I hope you are doing well! I saw on your taking a break post that you still are open for fic request list. I wonder if you have fics that feature alternate ways that John and Sherlock meet for the first time. It's really fun to read aus like that. The one where John was a professional cuddler was an especially fun one ^-^

Hey Lovely!!

OMG I have no idea how I missed this one!!! I have lots of fics you'll like, check these out:

Alternate First Meetings (Canon-Feeling)

Alternate First Meetings Pt 2

Alternate Professions (updated March 2023)

And HEY, if you love AUs, I'm your gal! :D Here are some more from PAGE 5 of my Masterpost (where you can find EVEN MORE!!):

Teacher AU

Lumberjack John / Botanist Sherlock

WWII AU’s

Pirates

School Fics

Kidlock

Spy John

Dear John AU

Omegaverse

Omegaverse Pt. 1.5: O!Sherlock

Sports AU (Updated Aug 2023)

Olympics AU

Actor AU

Historical AU

Client AU

Prostitution / Escorts (TO READ)

American AU (TO READ) [Updated July 2024]

Bodyguards, Assistants, & Guardians

Regency AU (TO READ)

Animal AU

Coffee Shop AU

Sherlock x  Good Omens Crossovers (Updated Apr 2022)

Farm and Ranch AUs (MFLs)

Royalty AUs (MFLs)

Ballet Dancer AU (MFLs)

School / Student AU (MFLs)

Sherlock AUs Under 25K

Serial Killer Case Fics/ Serial Killer AU

Teen/Unilock with Rugby John (MFLs)

Clones / Multiple Universes (READ and MFLs)

Hogwarts / Wizarding World AU (MFLs) (Potterlock)

Sugar Daddy Fics (MFLs)

And the AWESOME cuddling fic you're talking about is this one!! I love it too!!

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal, Autistic Sherlock) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

=====

SO SORRY AGAIN, Erik!! I totally didn't mean to skip this ask

I hope this reply pleases you in compensation. 💜🖤

[vagabond-umlaut]

skew lines

a pair of lines which neither intersect nor run parallel to each other

▸ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader; word count: 4k ▸ alternate universe: reincarnation; alternate universe: soulmates; multiple lives; fluff; drama; angst with a hopeful (happy) ending. ▸ content warnings: character death, non-graphic suicide, brief mention of infidelity, implied domestic violence, panic attack, indirect reference to the Holocaust of WWII. ▸ read this on ao3 instead! :))

▸ please read the warnings carefully before proceeding to the story! ▸ sincerest apologies for any inadvertent inaccuracy. no disrespect intended towards anyone, least of all towards those who had to face gruesome events in their lives. ▸ many thanks to @pupkashi, @mimiriko, @guccirosegold, @silkylious and @missmeinyourbones for your lovely suggestions, comments and support!!!! ❤️❤️ ▸ i don't own characters, gif or divider. please don't plagiarize/translate/repost this.

ONE: KAMAKURA; 1262  

“A lady must never dream,” Your mother says as she places the wataboshi atop your head, “She must only ever fulfil her duties to her family, silently and obediently.” 

An errant tear rolls past your cheek, washing away the make-up and hours of your maids’ efforts with it. Your mother, however, pays that no mind and raising you from your seat, leads you out of your quarters. 

As you walk beside her, you wonder... Were you from a humbler origin... Were you not from one of the Big Three Clans, would life have been different? Would you have been freer? Happier? Or would you still have to walk into a union, knowing full well widowhood awaits you by the next sunrise?  

A mangled sob falls past your lips, and you turn to your mother with a pleading gaze.  

“Please, mother, I can’t do this,” You clasp her hands in yours, entreating her in a broken whisper, “I can’t do what you asked me to do. Ask me to not marry him, ask me to retire from all this to a nunnery – I shall do so in a heartbeat. I will never question you. But please, mother, I- Brother!?”  

Yanking you away from your mother, your brother drags you by the arm across the courtyard, then stops a foot away from the shrine, his eyes narrowed into slits as he glowers down at you.  

“Listen, girl,” He seethes, and you wince from the painful grip he has on your arm, “You’re a Zen’in. You’ve been fed, dressed and kept alive by us, Zen’ins, for the last two decades. Not by that sick idiot inside, you fell in love with, like the disloyal bastard you’re. So, you better shut up and pay us your thanks, yeah?” 

You nod, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand.  

If your family wants you to pay them your thanks, you will do so – you decide, while your brother barks at the maids to reapply your make-up before you enter the shrine – just not the way they expect you to.  

Hours later, a small smile lines your lips as your husband enters the room. In a black haori and hakama, the daimyo resembles a deity amongst a sea of mortals – which he probably is, you muse, if the whispers on his prowess in war and court are anything to go by.  

 “You’re staring, wife,” An amused chuckle draws you from your thoughts.  

You give a timid smile back, “You’re too handsome to not be stared at, husband.”  

Surprise flitters across your husband’s features, soon followed by an understanding grin.  

You realize he must have seen the empty cups behind your back.  

“Did you finish the sake your brother gifted us, all by yourself, darling? Thought you weren’t a big fan of alcohol?” 

“’m not,” You answer meekly, averting your gaze from his crystalline blue, “Still, I drank.” 

“And may I know why, darling?” Chuckling, the daimyo pulls you into his lap and nuzzles into the crook of your neck – then pulls away when a harsh cough racks through your body. Blood at the corner of your lips, you run a trembling hand through his soft white locks, the fondness in your dying eyes contrasting the shock in his. 

“I want you to live, that’s why.” 

TWO: HOKKAIDO; 1966 

“I want you to live, that’s why.” 

A tired yawn leaves your lips as you throw the blankets off and pad over to the open window, that singular statement still pestering you from your dreams – or, should you say, nightmares. 

Tormenting you for three months now, they have always ended the same – you whispering those words, time and time again, a grim relief settling in your bones as your eyes finally shut, prey to an eternal slumber – until they open again, onto the blood-red digits of your alarm clock. 

Initially, you had ignored them, treating them as figments of your imagination – a side-effect, you had supposed then, of watching sad historical romances. However, when the dreams began to recur and blur into a single overarching theme – love, death, love, death – it was then that you finally decided to consult a professional. 

“A long vacation to Hokkaido is what you need, you workaholic idiot,” You recollect your psychiatrist friend insisting last Friday at your weekly dinner together. “A relaxing bath in the hot springs, a thrilling ski down the steep snowy slopes – and who knows, you might even find a cute man who can keep those dreams away,” She had trailed off with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, which had earned her a pillow in the face.  

Another tired yawn escapes into the chilling night air and you realize how utterly, totally wrong she was.  

Sure, the hot springs are relaxing enough, the snowy slopes are steep enough, the men too are cute enough, still… your dreams seem to have worsened since your arrival here. In fact– Bang! 

Startled, you turn around at the sound – when, out of nowhere, a slender hand pushes you into the wall – and the scream in your throat withers away at the sight before.  

Hair as white as the snow falling outside, eyes as blue as the ocean you’ve grown beside, features eerily translucent yet eerily familiar...  

“Who are you?” Disregarding the warning bells chiming in your brain, the question tumbles past your lips in a soft whisper. 

A long second passes before you receive a reply.  

“No one nice,” The figure finally whispers back, and you bite back a gasp when their frigid fingers dance across your bare arms, “But tonight I can be yours, darling, if you want.”  

You let your fingers tangle in their messy white hair and pull them in for a kiss.  

(Years later, you’ll agree with a laugh, you had indeed acted like a moron in the face of a (definitely paranormal) intruder in your room.) 

(Years later, you’ll also share a quiet look with your friend after such discussions – for she and you alone, will know how much your lover from that night resembled your lover from that dream.)

 THREE: NEW ORLEANS; 1884 

“What do you mean by ‘No,’ girl?” 

Your brother huddles closer to you – out of cold or fear, you’re not quite sure. Pushing him behind, you attempt reason another time, “Exactly what you understood, Sir. You see, I’m not that kind of woman. I-” 

“Nonsense! You are all sluts,” The man roars and lunges forwards at you – only to drop dead an instant later. A frown twists your painted lips as you return the gun to your purse – which deepens when you catch the toddler’s dumbstruck gaze alternate between you and behind you.   

Of fucking course, there had to be a witness.  

“To be fair, he was the one who attacked first,” You state, whirling around with your gun raised, “And to be safe, I don’t really mind having another’s blood on my hands.”  

An amused snicker rings through the stale evening air and you feel your muscles tauten in dread. Years of fending for the two of you have taught you to know a predator when you hear one.  

“Or, you could join me, y’know?” 

That doesn’t mean you’ll scamper away like a meek doe at its first growl, though.  

“As what? Some side-hoe?” A mirthless laughter bubbles up your throat and you shake your head lightly, “No, thanks. I’ll pass.” 

A beat passes in tense silence, before the man steps forward into the lamp’s dim light – and you drag your brother closer to yourself, covering his eyes with a palm, whilst your own widen in recognition.  

Silky white hair, crystalline blue eyes, ridiculously tall and handsome – the Boss returns your stunned expression with an even smirk, “And if I ask you to be my partner, what’ll you say? Will you still pass it?” 

“I…” You glance at the child beside you – his skinny figure, ratty clothes, unkempt pink hair, guileless features – and back at the man who stares at you expectantly. A tendril of disgust unfurls in you as you imagine the crimes the sleazy scoundrel before you might have committed. 

“Yes, I’ll pass it,” You answer with an indignant glint in your gaze, “I don’t want my brother to grow in a horrible world like yours.” 

“Not even if you get enough money to raise the kid into a proper gentleman?” 

“Are you trying to fucking buy me!?!?” You snarl at him, taking a menacing step forward – then stop when you feel a little tug on your dress.  

Your hand removed from his eyes, you find your brother peering up at you worriedly.  

Taking a deep breath in, you give the toddler a reassuring smile, and lifting him into your arms, turn to the man with a sharp grin.  

“He doesn’t need your foul money to grow into a proper gentleman. He’ll anyways be one.” 

“As you wish, darling,” The Boss hums with a faint smile at your words, and casting you one last long look, recedes into the shadows he appeared from.  

A month later, you hear the man drove his car off the edge of a cliff.  

“He drank himself to death after being rejected,” Your co-worker tells you on the way to the bar. You only frown in response.  

Feeling oddly bereft, you cancel your shows and head home early that evening.

 FOUR: NEW LONDON; 2628 

“Get out. Now.” 

Reducing your auditory levels to a bare minimum, you continue folding the clothes.  

You know you shouldn’t be bothered.   

You are a mere housekeeping robot Mistress bought online a year ago.  

Your only purpose is keeping the house clean and going on the odd errand or two – not worrying your circuits off for Mistress, every time voices are raised or things are thrown to the ground.  

Still… your wired heart can’t help but twist when you hear the front door slam shut and a pair of bruised arms wrap around you. “I was right,” Your receptors detect a choked whisper, “Twelve years of marriage and he has another woman in his life. Guess I’m that unlovable, huh?”  

Desperately wanting to deny, you emit a rapid series of beeps, nudging your Mistress to look at the wall opposite – and project your first picture with her there. 

In the picture, Mistress is crouched beside you, blue eyes crinkled in a grin while her long white hair flutters in the breeze. On her other side is her friend, a blond man, a polite smile on his face as he looks at the camera.  

(The day it was captured is still as green as the neo-grass you water every morning in the lawns.  

It was your Mistress’ thirtieth birthday that day – although no indication of the same could be found anywhere in the house. Master had left for work at sharp 7 in the morning, Mistress had secluded herself in her home office an hour later and you were tidying the house – as usual.  

With the breakfast over, you were in the middle of returning the dishes to the drawers when the front bell rang. More than a little peeved at being interrupted during your chores, you let the door open after the second ring – to Mistress’ friend waiting with a huge box and balloons in his hands.  

It was only when he hugged your mistress and wished her ‘Happy Birthday,’ that the metaphorical bulb lit up in your processing unit – and you let out a chitter in fear – FOR HOW COULD A TOP-CLASS HOUSEKEEPING ROBOT FORGET AN IMPORTANT OCCASION AS THIS!?!? - only to earn a hearty laugh from Mistress in return. At a loss at her reaction, you quietly beeped at her.   

Grinning, Mistress crouched before you and placed a hand over your dome head. “Don’t sweat it, silly,” She said with a knock to your head, and you let out an annoyed little beep, “I won’t return you to the factory for this tiny mistake. I don’t know what shitty instructions they fed your system but I'm not like that. I’m way too fond of you and your weird little quirks to do that.” 

A relieved beep left you – and you realized, quite contrary to the shitty instructions you had indeed received long ago, you too had grown fond of your Mistress.) 

Happiness worms into your heart when you find Mistress looking at it fondly – then, fills your entire body, from the audio-receptors atop your head to your tiny wheels, when she directs that gaze at you.  

“Thank you,” She whispers, wiping her tears away, then rises, extending a hand to you. “Now, let’s go pick me a killer outfit before we go kick that cheating ass, shall we?” 

An excited chitter escapes you and you zoom past towards the closet – totally ignoring her sudden stillness behind you. 

“Hey, did you just smile?” 

FIVE: WARSAW; 1941 

“Has anyone ever told you, your smile’s really pretty?” 

“Has anyone ever told you, you are really pretty?” 

The boy breaks into an abashed grin at your question, and you beam back. 

A comfortable silence befalling the two of you, you return to your book – though your thoughts stray far from the tale unfurling within it.  

The fates must be cruel – you think, dragging your gaze from the tiny letters to a loose thread in your skirt – to give you a life so lonely and quiet, sans family, sans close friends; then bring it close to an end just when you’ve found a person you might want to live it with.  

A tired exhale leaves you as you close your book and flop backwards on the cot. A beat passes before a pair of arms wrap loosely around your midsection. Humming softly, you snuggle into a firm chest, relishing in its warmth – both literal and metaphorical.  

“Anything worrying you, princess?” A soft voice asks, a while later.  

“Not when you’re holding me like this,” You wish to say... yet you eventually decide against it. 

Uncertainty already plagues your mind if you’ll live to see the next morning or not – leaving behind a loved one, or worse, being left behind can only add to the woes.  

Ready with a barefaced lie, you send him a sweet smile – then freeze when a siren tears through the biting night air. A terrified shiver crawls up your spine and you squeeze your eyes shut. Another siren soon follows, then another – and you realize why they are called ‘the siren of death’.  

Dread – the cursed, doomed, endless kind – courses through you like a poison.  

Searing. Suffocating. An awful lot like dying.  

Before you can register it, a wail claws its way out through your throat, and you wrap your arms around the boy. “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die,” Clutching his sweater, you say, a silent terror in your wide eyes as you peer at him, “I want to live. Here, with you. Please don’t let me die.” 

Concerned gaze sweeping over your features, the boy places a warm hand on your cheek – and smiles when you grow minutely calm at the contact. “I won’t,” He whispers to you, quiet and earnest - and you feel your heart stutter, albeit from a reason different to before, “I too want to live, with you. But preferably somewhere else, yeah? This place is cramped as hell.” 

A quiet chuckle escapes you. Brushing his white bangs away, you gaze tenderly into the crystalline blue depths of his eyes. “But do we have the money to afford a bigger place?” 

The boy grins at you.  

“Once we’re out of here, darling, we’ll have all the time in the world to earn the money we need.” 

The enemy forces find your hiding place that night. 

SIX: UENO; 2017 

“They say time’s the greatest healer of all.” 

Gojo’s blank façade shows no cracks, and you grin – though it instantly gives way to a sharp hiss! Wincing, you press a palm on the gash across your abdomen.  

Fuck! That damned sorcerer must have cut you deeper than you thought, huh... still, no biggie! Tis but a tiny scratch and you had, in turn, made him and his associates die choking on their blood. Ha! 

“I never thought I’d find you here,” A quiet voice snaps your self-gloating in half and you peer at the man leaning against the opposite wall.  

Even in the minimal light the dawn has to offer, you reckon he looks an Adonis incarnate – tall with chiselled features, shiny white hair and fitting clothes – add to those, a wealthy background and a flirty persona and you find it's not surprising, really, why Gojo turned out to be the playboy he is. 

“Why are you here?” You ask him, a tilt to your head, “Isn’t there a mission calling you now?” 

If Gojo detects the scorn in your voice, he makes no comment on it. Instead, he crouches before you and removes his sunglasses, revealing his crystalline blue gaze and the stormy allure they carry. 

You frown back at him, unimpressed.  

“The fuck are you removing your shades for, idiot? Wanna get a headache later?” 

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, you can see, yet it disappears within a fraction of a second – and your frown deepens. He’s so unlike the way he usually is... 

“Hey, what’s wrong, Gojo?” You ask, concerned, when a sharp pain tears across your flesh and you swear you black out for an instant. It is then you realize what is wrong – and betraying the fear percolating in your chest, like a fucking leaden weight – you let out a barking laughter.  

“Of fucking course, the blade was poisoned,” You shake your head, a sarcastic smile on your lips, “And here I was wondering why my injuries weren’t going poof! like they do. I wonder how they...”  Trailing off, you let yourself look at your injury another time, when another realization hits you like a freight train – and the smile slips off your lips.  

“You told them, didn’t you?” You whisper, less as an accusation and more as a fact. Gojo averts his keen gaze from you.   

Twenty years ago, had anyone told you the arrogant Gojo kid your parents introduced you to at your birthday would one day be your best friend, then your lover, then your ex and finally, the reason behind your death – you would’ve certainly decked them in the face.  

Yet now, as you stare at the man before you, drowning in a sea of guilt, shame and regrets, you reckon life can be a fucking rollercoaster ride sometimes.  

“I don’t blame you, Gojo,” You admit after a while. Gojo makes no response.  

You continue, unperturbed, “You know, it was our fourth year at school when I decided to visit my clan again. They and I were not on good terms then – the absolute worst, in fact... still I decided to visit them. They were my family, after all. But you know what I saw when I went there?”  

Gojo looks at you, a faint furrow between his eyebrows. You drag your gaze skywards, “The entire estate still and silent, my parents, my siblings, the servants lying with a slit throat or a stabbed chest in their beds.”  Smiling despondently, you return your gaze to his shocked features.  

“It wasn’t a landslide which killed them, Gojo. It was those sick higher-ups who killed them – a punishment, they had told me, for my failure at catching Geto.” 

A tense silence falls over the two of you, as you finish speaking, a little breathless – and remains so – until the man breaks it with a silent question. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

You send him a sardonic smile. “And what would you have done then? Killed them? You and I both know, how risky it would have been. And I was unwilling to lose another loved one to the system.”  

A pained groan leaves your lips, and you slowly shift your posture a little, in hopes it will relieve the pain. It doesn’t. You continue, still, “Don’t blame yourself, Gojo. I would have joined Geto, even if you weren’t so distant then. Of course, I could see his mission being a failure from miles away – still, I couldn’t keep serving people I lost my family to, and I didn’t want you to create an animosity against them. And as for now...”  

A sympathetic smile creeping onto your lips, you ask, “They threatened you with the students, didn’t they?”  

You receive no words in return. Instead, a rough palm comes to cover your smaller one. His sparkling eyes now tear-filled, Gojo slowly pulls you into his lap, reminding you of the way he used to do this to you in days long gone – and then used to tickle you mercilessly, like the annoying yet dear bastard he was. 

A quiet chuckle falls past your lips and the sorcerer gives you a faint smile – though you don’t miss the wobble in his lower lip as he does so. “Anything funny you find in this?” 

“No, nothing,” You bite your lip to hold back a chuckle and reach out a hand to touch the tips of his hair – wondering if they still are as soft as they were; they sure do look very soft – only for it to fall to the ground midway. You let out a mirthless laughter.  

“The poison they used was really good, huh,” You muse aloud, then squint up at him, loathing the darkness overtaking your view of him, your time with him.  

“Hey,” Calling softly, you huddle closer to the man, an attempt to gain respite from the chill rapidly enveloping you. The grip on you tightens and you let out a soft whisper, "I want to meet you again. Think we can?” 

Gojo’s forced grin is the last thing you register before your vision blackens entirely and your eyes fall shut.  

“I know we will, darling.”  

SEVEN: ???? 

“Would this classify as a meet-cute or a meet-ugly?” 

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or cry.  

Your classes will be starting in another minute, in a building a good six hundred metres from here. 

Your seminar papers – the ones you prepared till three in the morning on nothing but ten cups of coffee and sheer will power – are flying away merrily with the breeze; a few even rolling, pitching and yawing (whoa!) as they flee from you.  

Your crisp white shirt – the only white your wardrobe houses and the only colour the seminar allows - is now sporting an ugly shade of coffee-brown – though, you note absently, it seems to be a pretty lighter shade than your usual’s. 

And oh! Last but not the least, you are also nursing a bruised (and perhaps, broken too, if the pain you’re in is anything to go by) ankle on the ground. 

And despite all this, this asshole is having the audacity to fucking flirt right now.  

You decide, you don’t want to laugh nor cry.  

You want to yell.  

Maybe drop in a punch too, to knock some sense into the bastard.  

Sleep-deprived features thrown into a furious scowl, you look up from your injured ankle – a swear, the likes of which will make sailors cover their ears, at the tip of your tongue – and look into a pair of crystalline blue eyes, partly covered by short white bangs.  

The world around you stills.  

And you stare and stare and – yeah, you guessed it right – stare at the man crouched before you.  

A person you know you have loved countless lifetimes before.  

A person you know you will love countless lifetimes later.  

A beat passes before the world resumes; you keep gawping at him still – totally oblivious to (or uncaring of) the cobblestone path you’re sitting on, the weird looks being directed your way, your friends calling you and rushing towards you. 

Gazing at you lovingly in return, you hear the man whisper, “Meet-cute, it is, darling.” 

You lose your balance a second time that day. 

[kale-theteaqueen]

Leap of Faith, Chapter 1: February 1944

---

“So, do all of this town’s pretty women coup themselves up in stuffy back rooms or are you just special? Seems like a crime, sweetheart.”

Nesta blinked, her irritation returning so quickly she almost gasped. There it was again. Sweetheart. Like she was some young thing hoping to stroll through town in his arm, like a show pony. She was unable to hide her scowl. Coldly, she replied,

“Are all Yanks this skilled at talking to them?”

He tilted his head back and released a loud, genuine laugh. It was musical – the most vibrant sound Nesta had heard in… well, in years.

It was a dangerous sound. One that felt taboo. One that, undoubtedly, would consume her thoughts tonight when she went to bed alone in the room upstairs.

“I’m afraid so, Miss…?”

“Mandray,” Nesta supplied, holding out her hand for his coin. He may be Emerie’s lodger but that didn’t mean she’d wash his clothes for free. “Mrs. Mandray.”

To his credit, his surprise (and disappointment) seemed only to flash across his face for a moment. But he didn’t change his tone, as she thought he would. Instead, his eyes seemed to soften, and he dutifully dropped a small pile of coins into her hand. After a moment's hesitation, he replied,

“Well, I suppose I’ll be seeing you more often."

And then, as if to test it out on his tongue, he repeated, “Mrs. Mandray.”

---

War may be hell, the world bleak, but when Captain Cassian Garcia meets the mysterious Nesta Mandray, he finds a light in the darkness.

Nesta, meanwhile, yearns for escape. Trapped in a loveless marriage in a town that has never understood her, the handsome American Officer lodging in Emerie's house becomes too tempting to ignore.

Even if she knows that to tempt fate against certain death was a fool's errand.

Cassian, though, is certainly going to try his best.

A WWII AU for @nessianweek 2024 Day 4: Alternate Universe

Tag List: @c-e-d-dreamer @podemechamardek @talkfantasytome @moodymelanist @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk @doriansgf @eerievixen @sweet-pea1 @thewayshedreamed @agents-assemble @jsmelodies @aelinchocolatelover @unlikelypersonalknight1 @slipknotvol3 @stylishmuser @lady-winter-sunrise @bri-loves-sunflowers @misswonderflower @acourtofladydeath @natasharomxnov @unhealthyfanobsession

[dcdreamblog]

Is it true that the reason Uncle Sam and several other WWII-era superheroes disappeared even before the whole McCarthy-HUAC debacle because they went to an alternate universe where the Axis won in order to continue the fight against Fascism?

The one hand, it sounds kinda crazy, even for superheroes, but in the other it sounds in-character for Uncle Sam.

Yep. I mean like you said its fucking ludicrous, even for the kind of lives that these heroes lead but its just true in this case. The Multiverse is a really hard idea to wrap your head around outside science fiction but sometimes it will come roaring in whether we like it or not.

(Propaganda poster of the Freedom Fighters produced in 1946)

The Freedom Fighters were already a very insular and embattled part of the Squadron. Their specific mandate was to support resistance movements against fascism all over the world along the periphery of Axis territory where Uncle Sam's considerable influence could stave off the Spear of Destiny while they worked in secret. Their main ports of call for most of the war were in Burma, the Phillipines, China and the southern Mediterranean.

Because of the secretive and intensive nature of their work, they became a very opaque bubble within the Squadron, tightly bonded to one another with their locations and activities often unknown even to the Squadron at large for weeks or even months.

Soon after the war (as in, ON V-J Day) they became aware of the alternative universe you mentioned where the Axis managed to not only win the war but hold dominion over most, if not all, of the world.

During the entire period between the end of the war and the early days of the Justice League they were embattled as the main resistance in that universe, eventually turning the tide and overthrowing Nazi rule with the JLA's help, where they returned to our world. (Not the Firebrand on their team was the Earth X version of original Firebrand Rod Reilly, who died during the Pearl Harbor attacks on our world and did not survive the Fighters' final battle on Earth X)

I DO want to talk about Uncle Sam at some point though because as you implied he is a fascinating figure. (I've actually met him. Like, legit spoken to him, he comes into the museum like...once or twice a month. I think he knows my name)