#children of war

[bluespiritshonour]

Four men in uniform To carry home my little soldier

-Kate Bush

[sacredwhores]

Jocelyne Saab - Children of War (1976)

[konohagakurekakashi]

❝ ...Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die...❞ - Herbert Hoover

[peppymint1986]

I was reading Hidden in the Deep by IlogicalHuman and had a random idea.  Yes, Butsuma was in love with Tobirama Mother and vice versa.  Yes, she is a Siren.  But in this case, Butsuma was human rather than another mer.  He would never admit it aloud, but in his head he is forced to thank Tajima for his ability resist her song.  

So, have this little snippet for MerMay

Siren 

Izuna came back to himself rather abruptly.  What the hell had happened? One moment he had been trading verbal snips with Tobirama, having randomly come upon the Senju upon the road.  He was not so unprofessional, or careless to start a true fight without reason.  But he was hardly going to let his rival pass without comment either.  

Then, there had been this voice.  The most lovely voice he had ever heard.  In fact, Izuna could still hear it.  Trying to pull him back under like the most subtle of genjutsu.  Though that subtlety did not make the song any less powerful.

‘My eyes are pierced by Cupid.  I disdain all glittering gold.  There’s nothing can console me but, my jolly sailor bold.’

It was then that Izuna noticed something else.  Tobirama’s hands were locked around his wrists.  Pinning him back against the Senju’s larger frame.  “Get off of me!” he snarled, attempting to free himself.

Tobirama’s grip was like iron.  “That depends,” he replied coolly.  “On whether you think you can prevent yourself from walking into the sea.”  

What.  Izuna found his gaze drawn to the other man he had met along the road.  A Tinker who had scoffed when he had relayed the locals’ warnings to avoid this route.  That he had been advised to take the other, longer path.  The man was already up to his waist in seawater.  

Eyes bleeding red, Izuna watched as the man took one step, then another.  Not hesitating in the least as he walked to his death, his head vanishing beneath the waves.  Even for a member of a clan known for its mastery of illusions, it was disconcerting.  

This time, when Izuna once again attempted to yank himself out of his rival’s grip, Tobirama let him go.  Quickly, Izuna put a decent amount of distance, not just between himself and the other ninja, but also between his body and the sea.  “Don’t think this means I owe you for anything Senju!”  

“Of course not,” Tobirama scoffed.  “You would have broken free without my intervention.”  It was the truth.  He had been considering using his own voice to jar the other, but it had turned out not to be necessary.  

If anything, Tobirama’s response made him feel even more off center.  Then why?

While Tobirama was not so foolish as to take his gaze off Izuna entirely, he did direct his attention back to the ocean.  “Are you quite finished?” he asked.

“Not entirely,” a melodic voice came from the depths as a woman with long silvery hair lifted her head above the waves.  “But it can wait.”  The woman smiled, revealing a mouthful pearly white, needle sharp fangs.  “Hello my son.”

“Mother.”  

Izuna’s mind came to a screeching halt.  He had occasionally wondered, given Tobirama’s unique looks, if the other was only half Senju.  But he had never considered this.  Another might not have noticed the silver and red fins still hidden beneath the water.  But his sharingan picked out the details with ease.  This woman was a mermaid.  No, he thought, remembering the music, a siren.  A man-eater.  

“It is good to see you Tobirama,” she greeted.  “Even if your human sentimentalities do appear to be getting the best of you.”  

“Not at all Mother,” Tobirama disagreed.  “It is simply that this one is mine, and I am not inclined to share.”    

“Really,” sharp red eyes, eyes which like her son lacked a visible pupil, focused on Izuna.  “He is quite lovely,” she mused.  “Strong too.”  She clicked her tongue thoughtfully.  “He will sire fine pups.”  

Izuna sputtered.  Then sputtered even more when Tobirama did not seem inclined to correct his Mother’s obviously incorrect conclusion.  Also, did she mean his rival could get pregnant!?  

“Just be smarter than me, my son.  Eat him once you have what you need.”  

Tobirama merely shrugged, unbothered by the thought that Butsuma might have ended up in his Mother’s stomach.  She sometimes stated she regretted not eating him as well when unlike his sister Erena he had not been born a full siren.  Honestly, that was probably why there were not more hybrids like himself walking around.  “I have not yet decided.”  

Izuna could feel himself turning red.  Just what did that mean?  Decided about what?  Eating him or fucking him?  Even worse, now he was imagining what a child of his and Tobirama’s would look like.  What kind of warrior they would grow into.  How Tobirama would look round with his child.  

He cleared his throat.  “Well,” Izuna stated.  “As I am clearly not needed here I will get going.  See you on the battlefield Senju.”  A quick sunshin took him back to the main road.  Izuna trying desperately to feel like he was not running away.  The laughter, a bell-like sound he would never have imagined emerging from Tobirama’s throat before today, not helping with the feeling in the least.  

The muses say Tobirama was there specifically to visit his Mother and sister.  He brought a selection of inland meats as a present.  But that just did not quite fit into the story.  Maybe if it gets expanded into a multichapter one day.  But if that happens it will not be soon.

Still struggling with Acquainted with the Night.  I know how the last few chapters are going to go.  I just need to figure out the middle bit.  I need filler and connections without it seeming rushed.  

[carbone14]

Enfants anglais agitant leurs drapeaux dans les décombres d'une maison de la banlieue sud de Londres à Battersea pour célébrer la victoire en Europe - 8 mai 1945.

Photographe américain anonyme

©Imperial War Museums - HU 49414

[confusedsoulrambles]

[renmedys]

calypso, hatake kakashi / masterlist

pairing: hatake kakashi/fem!oc status: ongoing / crossposting in progress! chapters: 3/? warnings/content: descriptions of blood and violence. child abuse/grooming/manipulation.

summary: killing is easy, living with it isn’t. (or: the vengeful ghost of konohagakure, raised under the brutal tutelage of shimura danzo, must learn to live in times of peace despite having never known it. it turns out to be a difficult task, she finds, when the blood of thousands stain her hands.)

extended: tucked away in the shadows of twisted underground roots, she was molded into a doll meant for nothing but slaughter. under moonlight she turns from tangible to translucent—the ghost of vengeance, she is called, yet beneath the mask she is driven by no such thing. only obedience. in a new era of peace, what place is there for a puppet with no puppeteer? with her master dead and no sense of purpose, she believes it is best to rot beside the corpses of her creation. but hatake kakashi, as he ascends the position of rokudaime, is of a different opinion.

chapter list !

01. she who bears witness

02. reverence

03. for konoha, of konoha

[lovesickhotel]

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A post shared by Tasnem Aaed (@tasnemaaed)

[salt-popcorn]

OWAAT: Why

The glow of the campfire fell on the sleeping figures nearby and he let his eyes linger on them for a moment. They were so young. All of them should be playing games and making fun of each other or going to school— or something.

Not preparing for a war. Not to pretend everything is okay while knowing everything you know is gone. They should not be the ones making sure they are not being attacked every other moment.

Spirits, they are so young.

Sokka is exhausted. He is bone weary. He wants to cry and scream and throw a tantrum, because there is a war going on, and the weight of the whole world is on these kids’ shoulders.

Aang is twelve. Toph is twelve, Katara is fourteen. They are kids dammit! Why do kids have to fight in a war that adults are responsible for? Why do kids have to pay the price for the adults' faults?

But he knows no one will give him the answers. He knows that no matter how much he wants to protect these kids, wrap them in a blanket, and protect them from the world, there is no one else out there to save the world for them.

So Sokka keeps his watch until the campfire dies down, and the sun slowly peekes out from the mountains.

[itsjessnyc]

Let me tell you about a smart, kind, amazing Palestinian man @jay_karanouh He has launched his merch site CultureVultures Proceeds go to the children of Gzzza ☪️🇵🇸❤️🫒🍊🍉😽 -j

Follow him and check out the site today! Proceeds go to the children of Gzzza

[quietstoriesofalonelychild]

a quiet moment between two children of war

The yellow light emanating from the table lamp in the corner of the room provides a stark contrast against the shadows it creates on the glossy white walls. Outside, the sky is slowly darkening, shifting from a calming blue-grey to a deep, all-encompassing navy. The sun sets sooner every day, and we find ourselves chasing every speckle of light, hoping it will give us the hope we so desperately crave not to lose. 

The windows have been closed all evening, and the air is stale and loaded with tension. Even though we are far up enough in the city for it to be quiet, I still feel like I can hear the angry shouts of the protesters in the center square, and when I close my eyes, I can see the flags and the posters they were holding up in support of Ukraine. And I wait. I wait for some unexpected occurrence to shake the room, make the paint crack off the walls, and make the glass on the windows splinter. I wait for the impact of a bullet, or the tremor and the noise of a bomb hitting the city we’ve left behind that would interrupt the stillness, break the suffocating tension, force us to run, to hide, to fight; to do anything but stand here and feel so dauntingly fragile. 

It’s not real. With the sound of another light sob, the phantom noise and the images wash away. The only thing that remains is the subtle yellow light, the darkening sky, and the girl I’m holding in my arms, her head buried in my shoulder and her long, golden hair brushing against my fingertips where my arms are wrapped around her back. 

I wrap my arms around her tighter, reaching one of my hands out to brush through her hair in what I’m hoping is a calming manner. Usually, at this stage, I’d talk. I’d fill up the silence with enough of my usual jabber to make her laugh. However, as it has become usual since the war started, I have nothing to say. No words of comfort to offer. What can I say, when I have no control over who lives or dies, who starts wars, or who ends them? Standing in this room, surrounded only by the navy-gold saturation formed by the lamp light mixing with the shadows of the darkening sky, we are powerless.

[sayruq]

If you, for some reason, still have a subscription to the Atlantic, cancel it

[i-am-aprl]

says “I’m not getting my diploma at graduation Myself and 3 other seniors were notified that UChicago won’t confer our degrees at graduation this weekend. Despite finishing 4 rigorous and excruciating years of undergrad This comes off the heels of the university already having me and other students arrested & criminalized. The 4 of us have been targeted for “possibly” participating in campus-wide protests which a large majority of our student body has. We assumed we’d have criminal records before degrees. And now we might not even have that We’ve done the work. We deserve our degrees. Standing on the side of justice shouldn’t negate that. Sign, call, write to tell UChicago this is not okay. We need more support.” Go to his profile and click in the link in his bio for a quick way to contact the University.

[sugas6thtooth]

It's unfathomable, even more so when you realize this isn't the first time Israel has done this. She was a baby. The men were so obviously red crescent medics, and still, Israeli soldiers shot and killed them.

It wasn't a misfired bomb. It was guns. They knew what they were targeting.

Anyone who defends this, for whatever religion you believe in, even if you believe in nothing at all, I can only hope the afterlife brings you your deserved suffering on a platter. You're disgusting, vile creatures, who must've snuck onto the Earth because there is no way in nature that you are human. Die.

نَّا ِلِلَّٰهِ وَإِنَّا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ

Save the children of Palestine. Protect the medics. Free Palestine. 🇵🇸