#vietnam war au

[copper-dust]

good news if you love pain

Chapter 5 of Merry Men will be posted tomorrow morning!

[crazyprompts4asoiafdune]

Vietnam War AU

Paul and Feyd have joined the army after college. Chani's a nurse and Irulan, whose father is a military advisor to the South Vietnamese government, is a reporter. Glossu is there as a senior non-commissioned officer. Some of them (Paul, Chani and Irulan) eventually get involved with the anti-war movement. Paul and Chani end up living in a commune. Glossu gets involved in the South-East Asian drug trade and Feyd goes into politics, with help from his Uncle Vladimir, while Irulan becomes an investigative reporter.

[jaimebluesq]

Twelve Months with Luo "Mianmian" Qingyang & Nie Zonghui

June - Helicopter

Obviously with a prompt like this, I went with modern-era AU - but specifically the 1970s Vietnam war. Not only does this ficlet deal with people in the middle of war, it also touches very briefly on the particular issues that diaspora encounter in such unique circumstances. If anyone wants any interesting reading material, I found this article quite interesting - Looking Like the Enemy: Political Identity & the Vietnam War

Summary: Nie Zonghui is a helicopter pilot in the Vietnam war, and Luo Qingyang is the photo-journalist he's been assigned to fly out. He saves her life - and she saves his family.

~~~

The sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky, and though the air was humid, it wasn’t as hot as usual. All in all, it would have been a lovely day... that is if the air weren’t filled with the sounds of gunfire.

Nie Zonghui adjusted the course of his helicopter, trying to stay away from the worst of the fighting down below. “Are we almost where you wanted to go, Miss Luo?” he asked into the microphone at his lips.

“I don’t think we’re too far,” the woman’s voice came over his headset. “The reports from the last batch of POWs said there’s a prison camp just over that ridge.”

The lush greenery down below was so thick that they couldn’t see any of the soldiers fighting. He sighed. If anyone had told him two years ago that the treetops of Vietnam would be as familiar as his old backyard, he’d have called them crazy. As it was, he sometimes thought he already was. The only soldiers in this damn country that weren’t crazy were dead.

“There, you can see wooden scaffolding through the leaves,” Luo Qingyang instructed.

“Roger,” he replied. As they approached the site, he heard movement behind him; moments later, the door of the helicopter slid open and he could see Luo Qingyang from the corner of his eye. She’d rigged up some straps connected to the helicopter’s wall and wrapped them around herself, then sat at the open door to let her legs to hang down. She began adjusting the telescopic lens on her camera, her beautiful face unnaturally focused as she peered through the viewfinder.

He returned his eyes to the land below them. Technically this little trip wasn’t sanctioned – the Colonel had just assigned him to play babysitter to the latest journalist to want a look-see at the war. But Luo Qingyang had shown him right away that she had an eye for detail and a bright spirit that made him want to watch out for her. And when she’d told him of the POW camp, wanting to go and see if she could get photos to prove that some of their men were still alive, he hadn’t been able to deny her.

Part of it had been that she was just plain likeable – and easy on the eyes (he hadn’t seen a girl that pretty since he and the boys had last visited a brothel in Saigon). But more than that, he’d seen in her a need to prove herself in a way that he’d once felt after being drafted. After all, even though they were both American, they looked like the enemy – and far too many men went out of their way to remind them of that. The assholes didn’t care that they were both actually of Chinese descent rather than Vietnamese. A gook is a gook – now grab a gun and shoot one before you’re mistaken for the enemy, boy.

He heard the sound of the camera’s shutter and tried to keep the helicopter steady. The wooden scaffolding opened the trees into a small clearing, giving them a proper view of the POW camp. He saw figures the size of ants being paraded down the field – he swallowed hard. They were here to gather intel, not to run a rescue mission.

There was a crack of gunfire and a clink as something hit one of the landing skids. “We’ve gotta go!” he shouted into his headset.

“No! I just need one more-”

More gunshots followed the first and he heard a pained gasp over his headset. He grit his teeth and brought the helicopter around. “Miss Luo?” There was no answer. “Miss Luo? Did they get you? You answer me now, all right?”

“I’m-” The voice was faint, but it was there. “I’m alive. Hurts...”

“Just get yourself away from the door and I’ll get us to help.”

She didn’t respond with words, but he could still hear her breathing in his ears. He couldn’t afford to look back and check on her – he could still hear gunshots following them and if he wasn’t careful, one would catch the fuel tank. He sent a brief prayer to his ancestors to get them back safely.

~ ~ ~

He was sitting at camp with the rest of his platoon, eating his fill before they were to head back into the jungle, when a gentle hand clasped his shoulder. He looked up to Luo Qingyang’s smiling face.

“Now there’s my hero,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Here, let me help you sit,” he offered and rose up to give her a hand – getting up and down was harder when one’s shoulder was tightly bandaged and one’s arm was in a sling. Once she was sat down, he retook his seat, though he paused when her hand returned to him – this time alighting upon his arm. He somehow managed to hold back a shiver at her touch, though only just barely.

“I have something to show you,” she announced. She reached into her sling and pulled out a small pile of photographs. “I thought you deserved to see them before anyone else does.”

He put his food aside and accepted the photographs, then began flipping through them. He suddenly stopped, his eyes glued to one still as his throat clenched up on him. His fingers trembled.

“What is it?” she asked compassionately.

He lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes. Fuck the other soldiers if they thought him weak... “The prisoner kneeling in this photo, at the back looking defiant.” He swallowed. “He was declared missing in action. We thought he was dead. He...” He lifted his head and their eyes met, and he was more thankful for her presence in Vietnam than anyone else in the world. “He’s my cousin, Mingjue. He’s alive.”

Or at least he had been two days ago when they’d flown out to find the POW camp.

“He’s alive,” he whispered again, and it felt like all of his prayers had been answered.

“Then I’ll make sure I get this to the colonel, I’m sure he’ll want to know-”

He reached out and grabbed her hand. “No,” he whispered, leaning toward her to speak into her ear. “You can’t take this to the colonel. He’s a son-of-a-bitch who won’t do a damned thing unless he has orders from above.”

She nodded and swallowed hard. “Maybe if I get them to the media-”

He shook his head. “No, no media. The wrong kind of press could get my cousin killed before a rescue can be attempted.”

“Then where should I take them?” Her question wasn’t sarcastic – she genuinely wanted to know what he thought.

“You trust me?”

Her lips curved into a small smile. “With my life.”

Something inside of him soared at those words. “All right. You get down to Saigon and into the red light district. There’s a brothel there with a strange name, the Green Beast. You go inside and straight to the bar, and ask for the Headshaker. If they try to give you a hard time, you tell them I sent you.”

“Who’s this Headshaker?”

“My other cousin – Mingjue’s little brother. He’s not enlisted, came over on his own after we got drafted. He runs the place, but uses it to slip intel to our side.” He sighed, hopeful that this information would get to the right people for once. “You get these to him, tell him everything, and he’ll move mountains if he has to if it’ll mean getting his brother back.”

Her hand turned in his and she squeezed it gently. “I promise, I’ll get this to your cousin.” She leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “And you’d better get back alive from your next patrol. I owe you a drink.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

She gave him one last smile before stashing the photos back in her sling and slipping away from the camp.

~ ~ ~

Three weeks later, when Nie Zonghui stepped into the Green Beast, it was in time to see his cousins reunite after Nie Mingjue’s rescue from the POW camp. Luo Qingyang had been there too, waiting to buy him a drink.

He accepted her drink and bought her three more.

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[sliebman10]

War AU

“When do you have to go?” Remus asked, taking Sirius’s hands in his. 

“Day after tomorrow,” he said, twisting his draft card in his hands. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius said quietly. 

Remus walked with him to the draft office. Every step was heavy with dread. Protestors surrounded the building, all with colorful signs and clothes. Sirius held Remus’s hand tightly as he looked around, shaking out his long, black hair that would surely be gone after this appointment.

He thought of flying around the world to a foreign country. He thought of learning to use a gun. He thought of taking orders and being attacked and having to fight back at a moment’s notice.

“Give me your lighter,” he murmured to Remus. He obliged and Sirius held his draft card to the flame. “Make love, not war!” he cried and the assembled cheered. 

Word count: 149

@wolfstarmicrofic

[number1tailsdollfan]

”AND SO I BUILT A BOMB!!”

[zenmom]

I also made a comic about the design of Mickey in @disney-mystical-au and me loving mickey’s design though Mickey’s shoe design scares me because they remind me of that character who changed into an adventure outfit to save creatures and I did join him with that adventure. Too bad the comparisons were not made because it was sitting in my art inventory for so long, waiting to be completed🥲.

[writer-of-various]

1960s AU ft. Primis Crew

AI Art Gens kinda suck on some of these pics, I used photos of the characters to try making them resemble but it's just AI being fucking **** and I stuck at drawing and couldn't find any good Picrews or things that like. If you have links to anything cool like that, feel free to lmk.

Takeo Masaki, a former college student who was drafted to fight an unjust war. At least he has his best friend by his side. And he'll make his family proud, after disappointing them by going to college and not serving.

Edward Richtofen is a former scientist who was drafted during the war to become a skilled medic for US Army troops. After a year into his service, he became known as a "doctor" with his intelligence and large set of skills.

A historian who lost everything, Nikolai Belinski joins the war as a historian, fighting and documenting alongside US troops as he captures the war through writing and film. His goal is to teach the world a valuable lesson. And maybe find a bigger purpose in life to not go back to drinking his life away.

Tommy "Tank" Dempsey, a young college student who was drafted into the war. He finds himself enjoying the camaraderie, the thrill, and the fact he has his best friend by his side. But war wears people down, and his young naive heart is starting to discover that the world is harsh all over, and he wants to make a difference.

Lilja Alekov is a young woman who disguised herself as a man to take her brother's place for the draft. War felt like a place for her, but the effort to keep her secret gets tough every day, especially when her team joins forces with an equally as skilled Marines unit.

[blood-mocha-latte]

it's so fucking funny when a fic that i wrote a while ago suddenly blows up

[gingerwerk]

happy thursday/friday. heres (perhaps? the first bit i've ever posted on here?) an excerpt from my upcoming hbo war vietnam era/post vietnam au series

i literally laid down on my bed and whipped this up in less than an hour and i fuck with it and im in a giving mood so please enjoy :)

_-_-_-_-_-_

Cradling the cool, hard plastic of the payphone in between his cheek and his shoulder, Eugene pulled a few loose coins from his pants pocket and slipped them into the lot on the machine. It was getting late here but over on the West coast it was just around dinner time and hopefully he could catch him at home. He easily recalled the number and after only two rings, the line clicked.

“Hello?” the familiar, soft voice came through the phone line. 

“Jay, it’s Eugene,” he said, as a faint smile naturally appeared on his face.

“Gene, hey!” Jay responded, voice sounding more excited now that he knew it wasn’t some prank call or a wrong number. “What’s going on?”

What was going on? Eugene couldn’t help but wonder as he glanced around at the brightly lit up truck stop, everything slightly out of focus due to the combination of wear and dirt on the phone booth glass. 

He glanced at the gas station parking lot and still saw Snafu’s rusting blue pickup with the giant chrome Airstream attached. He didn’t seriously think Snafu would leave him in the middle of nowhere but Eugene couldn’t help the small bout of anxiety he got when he went too long without seeing Snafu or his- their -temporary home. All of a sudden he felt like he might as well have been five instead of twenty-five and he just lost sight of his mother at the market in town.  

“So, funny story…” Eugene started slowly, still processing how he would explain the situation he had willingly walked himself into.

“An actually funny story or funny like you need bail money- I assume not for you though, because this call isn’t coming from a police station,” Jay asked easily, tone even like he really wouldn’t have minded either scenario.

“Funny like Snafu showed up at my door Wednesday night,” Eugene stated, deciding to simply bite the bullet. “And I am calling you from a payphone outside Dayton, Ohio because he asked me to go on a road trip to the Grand Canyon and for some crazy reason I said yes. And I figured someone besides Bill and Faye should know so, yeah. That’s what’s going on with me right now.” 

For a long moment all Eugene could hear was the slight crackle of Jay’s breath as he slowly processed the news. While he waited, Eugene glanced over his shoulder again; still no sign of Snafu but the truck was still there. 

“That is a pretty funny situation you’ve got yourself in,” Jay decided after a long moment. “Now, I know you said you agreed to go with him but did you? Is this a willing trip or are you actually kidnapped and you’re calling for help. Cough twice if you’re in danger.”

“Jay,” Eugene sighed exasperatedly. “I’m really okay. I promise.”

“You sure?” his friend asked, the dry, sarcastic tone from before gone now and in its place was something more genuine, more concerned. 

Eugene frowned as he fidgeted with the phone cord for a moment. He had wanted to call Jay for several reasons. Firstly, he and Jay regularly communicated, via letters and occasional phone calls, if they wanted to swing the long-distance fee for something that couldn’t be held up by the U.S. postal service, and Eugene didn’t want to be thought of as rude if a letter went unanswered for longer than usual. He also wanted to let Jay know that Snafu was not only alive but seemingly okay, as he was one of approximately four people who would like to know that information. Lastly, however, Eugene wanted to call Jay because he was the only person alive who knew what the fuck had actually gone on between the two of them while in Vietnam. Perhaps Eugene should have called him back when he was weighing the pros and cons of traveling across the country with the man and none of his friends seemed to understand why he was so hesitant to go along with the man who, to the rest of the world, was just one of his closest war buddies, but that ship had long since sailed. At the very least he could let someone know his situation in case things blew up later and he needed an ally to help pick up his pieces. 

“I’m sure,” Eugene said definitively. “I promise.”

As Eugene picked his head up, he watched as Snafu exited the gas station with a mildly irritated expression on his face and a paper bag in hand. He watched for a long moment as Snafu’s eyes scanned the parking lot before they finally landed on him in the booth. Ignoring how his stomach lurched in a not-totally-uncomfortable way as Snafu put him in his sights, Eugene simply raised his hand to let the man know he saw him before Eugene turned his back to him so he could finish his phone call.

“If you’re sure, Eugene,” Jay decided quietly. “You say you’re gonna see the Canyon?”

“Yeah, finally,” Eugene huffed with a small, sad smile.

“Well, make sure you take some good pictures to send to me,” Jay responded, the slightly stilted tone in his voice let Eugene know Jay remembered what the Grand Canyon really meant to him.

“I will. Faye let me borrow her camera.” 

Faye’s beloved Kodak was currently nestled away in a storage compartment in Snafu’s Airstream. Eugene didn’t want to risk damaging or even losing such a beloved possession on the trip but Faye would not hear of it. She not only wanted pictures of the Grand Canyon but also told Eugene to take as many pictures as he could to remember the trip. 

“Hey, so, I gotta run, Snafu’s looking at me all pissed from across the parking lot and I think he’s beginning to scare off the patrons of the gas station,” Eugene said as he looked over his shoulder and watched for a moment as Snafu lit himself a new cigarette before he began to shuffle back to his truck. 

“Thanks for calling and letting me know,” Jay said. “Feel free to call again when you can or if Snafu wants, you can give him my information. It’d be nice to hear from him.”

“Be careful, he might show up at your door next and ask to go on a trip to Canada.”

“Can’t say I’ve been up north before so I might go if he asked,” Jay said easily. “But I’ll let you go.”

“Bye, Jay.”

“Bye, Gene.”

Hanging the phone back on its cradle, Eugene pushed out of the slightly claustrophobic booth and quickly crossed the parking lot until he reached where Snafu was casually leaning against the side of his truck, his cigarette half smoked as it hung out of the corner of his mouth. Once Snafu’s pale eyes landed on him, he pushed off the side of the truck and climbed back into the cab of his truck.

“Who’d you call?” he grunted as Eugene climbed into the passengers side of the cab.

“Jay,” Eugene answered, deciding to go for the truth.

“De L’Eau?” Snafu asked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he started up the truck and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, the large airstream towed behind them making it a bigger production than usual..

“You know any other Jays?”

“Damn, there anybody from over there who you haven’t kept in touch with?” 

“Yeah, you,” Eugene responded shortly as he continued to stare straight ahead through the windshield. 

Instead responding, Snafu simply flipped on the car radio and let the twangy tones of Creedence Clearwater Revival fill up the space of the cab as they drove down the dark, semi-deserted road in search of somewhere out of the way to park the Airstream for the night.

[copper-dust]

Black was breathing but not otherwise moving. A thumb against his wet eyelid pressed upward to reveal an unfocussed iris of ice beneath a fan of black lashes. [Moony] had never seen Black’s face from this close-up. He had never touched the beautiful gravel of his skin,  the grit of stubble and aggravated pores, the grey-blue creases,  the crumbles of dirt wiping pale under pressure.

from Chapter V of Merry Men

[everiistence]

EPONINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

omg HI BESTIEEEE ignore how horribly late this is

omghdsakgjdkl u do not understand eponine best girl is a way of life. she's just like me fr lowkey. ragahrgadshg. went to see the nat. tour of les mis once and spent the entire time watching eponine in the corners of the streets and buildings like i love her fr!

:] <- face of someone who has so many thoughts to say but is instead saying nothing of substance at all

anyhow random thought me personally in modern aus viet/SEAsian eponine is something that is so important to me bc like. u know. the parallels w resistance to french colonialism and all that?? like hear me out ok. les mis but everyone is viet. don't worry abt the historical accuracy or time period or anything. just slap on the viet lens.

[kanthonyficrecs]

Featured Fic (Historical/Fantasy AU)

I've Just Gotta Get A Message To You by Searching4paradiso Rating: E Status: WIP Summary: Anthony Bridgerton meets Kate Sharma while preparing to ship out for Vietnam. They have a magical summer together that ends when he leaves her a letter, but Anthony doesn't know all of what remains in the aftermath.

[froguemorgue]

chapter 5 of amrev/lams time travel thingy is now UP! check out We, The Greatest Pawns of Time on AO3 with - [what the fuck???] weekly updates!

1973

Peace negotiations, that's what they’d said. America’s so goddamn benevolent.

John was eighteen when he signed up for the war in ’72.

[boo-cool-robot]

Scott being Filipino/Korean is so cool :O How did you come up with it?? Can't wait to hear more about this au!!

I’m gonna be honest, I’ve always wanted to write an Asian Scott because I think that adds dimension to his canonical arc about being a kind of model minority and then rejecting that position. So I looked up Asian people in Alaska since working off canon can get you interesting results sometimes, and lo and behold: those are two surprisingly robust Asian demographics in Alaska.

I decided on Scott’s father being from a Filipino-American military family because there’s a lot of history of Filipinos in the US military, and canon says basically nothing about Scott’s mother, but I thought it would be interesting if his parents were different generations of immigrants that came to America after different generations of imperial war. (Fun fact: I briefly considered making Scott’s great grandfather a Filipino communist cannery union organizer, but decided against it. Would be a cool idea for another AU maybe.)

With Christopher Summers’ canonical military background, that laid the groundwork to tell an immigrant story partially about how subjects of empire can become complicit in it. There is also how Scott literally does not remember anything about his family until he’s in the orphanage again! This is also a story about immigrant memory and different kinds of coerced forgetting.

And on another note, Scott’s middle name in this AU is Ha, which literally means Summer in Korean. Scott Summers Summers :)

[c0ffe3bean]

WHATS UP WITH THE "C" ON YOUR EYEPATCH DAWG? '

YEAh– he doesn't wanna explain anything aBoUt hIs- eye patch