#wwi short story

[leonardoeatscarrots]

While goofing around in Discord for a bit, I ended up writing a quick short story the other day. Thought I'd share it here.

We open with the sound of gunfire...

A scraggly little man runs through a bombed out village in the French countryside. With him, he carries nothing but the clothes on his back and the papers in his pockets. Not a weapon on him as his gun was emptied long ago, and it's weight abandoned. His appearance is just as meaningless: brown hair, brown eyes. Streaks of white trailed from his forehead to his chin where a coat of dust and dirt had been carried down by trails of sweat, all that was washed caught in the creases of his face. He couldn't have been more than 20, but his soul felt much, much older. Even as he dodged bullet after bullet with youthful ease, his worn face burned through, juxtaposing the scene into something unbelievable. None of this was believable. None of this felt real.

As the sun stretched a tired hand over the horizon and grabbed the French ruins to pull itself up, the soldier started to worry. There was nowhere to go. The German camps already knew he was here, and without the dark, it wouldn't be long until they found him. Farmland stretched for miles in almost every direction save for the east, where beyond the river, the blackened skeletons of trees stood together in naked unity. The other side was either leveled by artillery or laid with more Germans, but surely the charred posts could provide at least a minute more coverage. A minute more was all he needed.

It was towards the middle of this final sprint where the pavement began to hurt beneath his feet. His boots smacked along the cobblestone almost rhythmically, though he could feel his gait grow clumsy. **Thud. Thud. Thud.** The machine gun followed, blindly reaching its hands through the twilight in hopes of grasping something still alive and squirming. **Thud.** *RATATATATATATATAT.* **Thud.** *RATATATATATATATATAT.* A drop of sweat fell from his chin. The bridge was in view now. It wouldn't be long until-

A light. A pale blue light flashed just beyond the first few lines of trees. Like a candle or lantern it seemed to flicker with a kind of uncertainty. All at once the overwhelming racket of machine fire subsided. The sounds of his feet, the creaking of his bones, the chatter of his teeth all stopped. Even the wind seemed to stop its groans. Someone was there, and regardless of being friend or enemy, they were waiting.

So entranced by the glimmer in the wood he'd made it to the bridge before he'd even noticed, and by that time had paused… As he stared into the glowing light he realized how curious it was, and yet how terrible. And among the hubbub he'd decided how little an extra minute really meant. Robbed of all other options he jumped.

The icy waters took him gracefully. He plunged in like so many of the civilians before, and like them, he dove to touch the river's rocky bed.

The current swept him along for what felt like miles, though it was very likely less than that. Flakes of white fell into the water around him, floating at his side, catching in his hair, only to be swept away again by his continuous thrashing… he never did learn to swim... Ash, he thought. That's what it must've been. Yet it didn't crumble in the waves or disperse into finer particles. And the air was sweet of honey, not the stale smoke of the village.

When the water finally began to thin he caught onto a branch bowing over the bank and started to pull himself out and onto the shore. There he collapsed. His woolen coat was heavy enough when it was dry, while wet it was even more burdensome, and not nearly as warm. With desperate hands he clawed at his belt until he had the garment off, then cast it to the ground with a wet *slop.* Next to come were his boots. It was only then, after being relieved of the cold pressures, that he could put his mind together for a moment.

Petals, he realized. All over the ground and clumped along the river's edge. What he thought was ash in the water now appeared to be cherry blossoms. All above him the trees were in bloom, crowning the pink skies with branches black as coal and flowers soft as waves of the sea. The wind rocked them gently but sent no chill down his spine as he took up his belongings and wandered barefoot into those woods, listening as the birds warbled softly. Just one more minute, he thought. Just one minute more and he'd go back…

“Hail! What brings you to this part of the woods?”

Stunned, the soldier turned to locate the source of the call. Just a few meters away another man stood, tall and round. His torso seemed to be a cage built from intricately woven wires. The head and limbs were of similar construction but also displayed simple facial features cut from sheets of weathered brass. He wore no clothes save for a cloth wrapped around his waist. Inside his chest a morning dove rested on a crossbar, cooing gently to itself. None of this seemed to shock the soldier, he simply stared on with hollow eyes, marveling at the monument before him. It was odd, by all means, but shock in this moment would be too much.

“Have you gone mad, friend?” it continued, leaning forward with hands on its knees, moving with such human fluidity. Someone had taken the time to weld on fingernails, he noted.

“Mad? Well… more than probably.”

The brass man hummed, the bird cooed once more, thinking about what he'd just said. “Well, you should come with me to the aviary.”

[oh2e]

We were discussing our favourite Christmas films at work but the only one I’d seen was the Muppet Christmas Carol. However, who needs Christmas films when you’ve got the Thanktival special on DVD?

[disastrouscanasta]

I wouldn’t usually do this but I want to put it somewhere

[writervblavender]

Thomas Gray tells the love story of his best friend, Emmet Bourgogne and the beautiful widow, Claudine. Thomas and Emmet were soldiers in WWI together fighting for France.

This short story was written in September 2022 for a writing contest. I picked a different story to submit which did not win. I think this possibly could have been a better choice.

This story is both Historic Fiction and LGBT fiction. None of these characters are based on real people or were ever real. This is all the author's imagination.

[thedreadpiratematt]

Tattoo idea: Joan of Arc/some Joan iconography

Bro yeeessss, oof there are so many good Joan tattoos too

[amethysttribble]

There’s a certain kind of common post on this website that goes *yes, [story premise that is common and popular and might reasonably support a full plot] but what about [consequences of story premise that really only has vibes]*

And usually the OP is kind enough to expand on this thought, about what the consequences might be (but not always), but I come away from those posts thinking, “okay, and what else?”

And in my experience there isn’t an answer, the described ‘consequences ’ premise doesn’t get much farther than that text post. There’s no more meat on those bones. When I try to think of how one might make a full movie or novel out of that concept… it can be done, but it would take a great deal of skill to keep it engaging and not start to lag, because if you’re plot is entirely *long form dealing with aftermath of the far more kinetic thing* you’ve gotta be damn good to not bore people and make them want to see that way more interesting concept instead

Probably why this is such a common fandom thing, and less so in original work. Easy for 800 word one shot about pre existing plot and characters to grapple with feelings only, a lot harder with an original story and original characters to revolve only around ‘far more interesting story happening in the next room over’ (again, can be done, there’s a boom for this very thing is isekai rn, but to be done successfully? Harder.)

Which is why when you do see original media focusing on ‘the emotions and consequences of it all’ the premise is always DEEPLY mundane. Death. Abuse. Depression. War fits in here somewhere, but only partway. Original media would much rather talk about the fantastical time loop though- how can you make a story about the consequences of a time loop when you don’t know what the loop looked like?

And if you’re going to make a sequel… you better put that motherfucker back in a time loop

But anyway something something fandom something something the One-Shots something something the modern desire to experience catharsis over experiencing new things

[pixiepretzel]

Time Travel to Sarajevo, 1914

Emma had always been fascinated by history, but she never imagined she would have the chance to change it. As a time traveler, she had the ability to go back in time and fix mistakes, but she knew that changing history could have unintended consequences.

But when she was assigned to stop the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, she knew she had to try. The assassination was the trigger for World War I, a catastrophic event that claimed the lives of millions of people.

Emma arrived in Sarajevo in June of 1914, just days before the assassination was scheduled to take place. She spent hours poring over historical documents and studying the movements of the assassins, determined to stop them before it was too late.

On the day of the assassination, Emma positioned herself near the motorcade, ready to act. As the car carrying the Archduke and his wife approached, Emma spotted one of the assassins raising his gun. She lunged forward, tackling the assassin to the ground just as he fired.

The shot missed its mark, and Emma breathed a sigh of relief. But her relief was short-lived as chaos erupted around her. The other assassins began firing wildly, and Emma realized that she had made a grave mistake.

By stopping the assassination, Emma had thrown the timeline into chaos. World War I had been prevented, but at what cost? Emma watched in horror as the events of the next few years played out before her eyes. Without the war, Hitler never rose to power, but the world was plunged into a different kind of darkness.

As Emma returned to her own time, she couldn't help but wonder if she had done the right thing. Had she truly saved the world, or had she made things worse? The weight of her actions weighed heavily on her, but she knew that she couldn't go back and undo what had been done.

Emma had always believed that history was set in stone, but now she knew that it was malleable, shaped by the actions of those who came before. She had the power to change history, but with that power came great responsibility.

[academyoftheheartandmind]

Dear Amar Singh

By Tristan Fernandes Dear Amar Singh  I 1916 Boots seeped in muck. Rain from above. The scream of shells piercing the sky. Tiny soldiers hovering in their mud holes. No man’s land is a sea of barbed wires and pockmarked shell holes.  Sunrays peaked from the misty sky and dawn was yet to arrive. For the men in the trench, it was cold. Yet, they were terribly clothed. Lacking even a good pair…

[fictionadventurer]

I'm haunted by the beautiful potential in an Edwardian-era Persuasion.

A setting just after WWI, another time of major social upheaval--blurring class barriers, new ideas about gender roles, further crumbling of the aristocracy

Sir Walter blindly clings to the old order, barely thinking about the war except to lament the impossibility of getting good servants these days

Elizabeth Elliot styles herself as a bit of a women's rights activist, claiming this is the reason she remains unmarried

Anne would have served as a nurse if her father had allowed it, but of course he couldn't permit an Elliot of the Elliots to undertake such ugly work, so she stayed at home quietly undertaking the usual home-front charitable work

This war deepens the story's melancholy. There's not the same sense of the men returning home as conquering heroes. The world is changing, but is it worth what we've lost? Can we have hope for the future when all our optimistic dreams led to such slaughter?

The best way to retain some of Wentworth's glamour is to make him a flyboy. However, given their short life expectancies, I'm not sure how realistic it is to have him and several buddies survive the war.

A "band of brothers" in the trenches is also a decent analogue for their relationship

Harville's injury meant he was invalided home fairly early. Benwick's probably a wartime poet suffering from shell shock that only got worse after his fiance died in the influenza epidemic.

Louisa and Henrietta are of a slightly younger generation that hasn't been quite as scarred by the war. Their relative innocence makes them refreshing to a war-weary returning soldier

It's possible Wentworth is so shaken by Louisa's accident (and thus needs Anne to take charge) because it sparks some kind of PTSD flashback. (Though that may not be the best direction to take the character).

There's just so much potential to explore the layers--old wounds and new possibilities, finding ways to heal and grow and rebuild after pain and loss

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 9

As you guys wanted, here's me doubling up on posting days. It will (hopefully) be twelve hours apart so that each chapter can get some love.

In this chapter we have a lot of flirting between Eddie and Steve. The Party being "meh" *shrugs shoulders* at Steve being bi. And Robin being the most soulmate a guy could ask for.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED!!!!

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

That night they were all gathered to watch the amateur theatrical society put on Much Ado About Nothing.

Even the ones who had been reluctant to join in were doubled over in laughter at the trick the Prince pulled on Beatrice and Benedict. The way they cried when Hero was accused of cheated on Claudio. And cheered when it was resolved happily ever after.

Mike complained about it all the way to the car. “We were forced to read this play in eighth grade and I hated it. I never knew it was funny.”

Eddie put his arm around his shoulder. “That is the unfortunate side effect of the education system. They suck the joy out of all of everything.”

“Normally I’m rolling my eyes at Eddie’s rants,” Robin said, “but I’m going to have to agree with him on this one. They just want sanitized versions of everything.”

Steve nodded. “Like what’s with the jump in American history when we stop in eighth grade at the Civil War and then all the way to WWII in eleventh grade, with only a brief mention of WWI as it related to WWII. Are they really trying to tell us that nothing happened in those eighty years of note? Like the fuck?”

Mike blinked at him. “Holy shit, I never even realized.”

The kids looked around at each other in shock.

“They push math and science,” Eddie continued, “but shit on everything else, except sports.”

He winced when realized what he had said. He looked over at Steve with an apology on his lips, but Steve was nodding.

“And they have to be the right sports, too,” Steve agreed. “Wrestling, swimming, soccer...anything outside the big three baseball, football, or basketball. Trust me, I got a lot of flack on being on the swim team. It was ‘gay’.”

“What?” Will squawked. “Why?”

Eddie licked his lips. “Little, teeny, tiny uniforms.” He emphasized the point holding his fingers not that far apart.

Dustin snorted. “Can’t be any worse than the basketball shorts.”

Steve looked upwards as he chewed on the bottom of his lip.

Dustin’s eyes bulged out of his head. “How much worse are we talking about here?”

“Speedo.”

Lucas frowned. “What the fuck is a Speedo?”

Eddie was practically vibrating in his skin. “Can I tell them, Stevie? Can I please?”

Steve let out a little sigh. The sigh the Party lovingly called his mom sigh. It was the sound he made when he knew no mater what he did it was going to end badly for him, so he just...let it happen.

He waved at Eddie to go ahead.

“Instead of swim trunks, that have a leg on them,” Eddie crowed, “Speedos are swim underpants. They cover the junk, the ass, and that’s it.”

“And you deliberately wore these things?” Max asked in interest. More interest than Lucas or any of the guys were comfortable with.

“I’m good at it,” Steve said, blush creeping up his ears and down his throat from the stain on his cheeks. “The uniform wasn’t as bad Eddie’s making it out to be.”

Gareth snorted. “Nope, they really are that bad. There was a period of time where–”

Eddie slammed his hand over Gareth’s mouth. “There’s no need to tell them about that, Gare.”

Steve looked over at Brian.

“Your senior year Eddie forced all of Hellfire to watch your meets.”

“Bri!” Eddie protested.

Steve looked over at Eddie and raised an eyebrow. “You like the...what was you it called it,” he said tapping his finger on his lips, “the ‘little, teeny, tiny’ uniform, Eds?”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I am but a gay man in a small town, so sue me!”

“I always preferred the lifeguard uniforms at the community pool,” Steve said. “Less wedgies.”

“Babe,” Eddie scoffed, “those shorts and tank left very little to the imagination. At least with the Speedo you knew what you were getting. With the lifeguard uniform it was all fantasy.”

Steve laughed. “I bet you were the kind who faked drowning to get CPR from their favorite lifeguard.”

“I can honestly say, I’ve never done that.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked all smiles. “Can you prove that?”

Eddie got up close to him and whispered, “Yeah, darlin’. I think I would have remembered you rescuing me before the Upside Down.” He winked at him and sauntered off. The rest of the band hastily said their goodbyes and hurried after their ride home.

Steve’s face was as red as his old life guard uniform. “Right. Let’s get home, yeah?”

Dustin eye’s narrowed at him for a moment. “Steve Harrington, are you crushing on my DM?”

The remaining eight looked at Dustin in shock.

“Dude!” Will hissed. “You can’t just ask that in public! What if someone overheard you?”

Dustin looked around and waved his hand around him. “There is literally no one here. I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t think it was a safe time to ask. But I’m going home with my mom as soon as she gets here and I will not be stymied.”

Steve ducked his head. “And if I did like boys, that would be okay with everyone?”

Everyone just looked around at each other and there was this collective shrug.

“Do you still like girls?” Max asked, genuinely curious.

Steve nodded shyly.

Lucas frowned. “You can like both?”

“Like David Bowie!” El said with her serene smile. “He likes both. Freddie Mercury from Queen, too.”

Steve snapped his fingers. “Exactly like that, El!”

Her smile grew.

“It’s okay if you like Eddie that way,” Mike said softly.

All the heads snapped to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, okay. I have a lot to work on regarding the whole Lucas thing, but I’m not a complete ass.”

“Thank you,” El said and kissed his cheek. “You just have a lot growing up to do. We all do. We just need to give each other the chances to do so safely. Or at least that’s what Joyce keeps telling me.”

Steve gave her a hug. “Thanks, Supergirl.”

He looked out at all his friends. The people who were more his family then his own parents.

“I might have a small...” he raised his finger and thumb, “crush on a certain metalhead DM who recently joined the Party in March...”

Robin scoffed. “And by little he means huge!” She spread out her arms all the way out.

Dustin’s head snapped around to Steve. “If you two get together, he better treat you right. You deserve it.”

Steve blinked. Considering how Dustin had worded his original question, he had been sure that Dustin was going to him not to break Eddie’s heart.

He gave Dustin a hug and kissed the top of his head.

He really shouldn’t have doubted this kid.

Just then, Claudia pulled up in her station wagon and Dustin, El, Will and Mike all piled in after saying their goodbyes.

“He totally has the hots for you, by the way,” Max said dryly.

Steve blinked at her for a moment. “How do you know that? Does he spend all his days learning alt rock on his guitar or something for me?”

Max just blinked at him. “Huh. You aren’t as stupid as I thought.” And then she just started walking toward the car.

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “So to make sure I got this right, Max is saying Eddie has the hots for me because he’s been learning my favorite songs for me on his guitar?”

“That’s what it sounded like to me, man,” Lucas said with a half shrug.

“I’m with Lucas on this one,” Robin agreed. “So maybe you should do what I’ve been suggesting for the last three weeks and you know ASK HIM OUT!”

Lucas giggled.

“Shush you,” Steve admonished. “Get to the car.” He pointed at Robin. “You are spending the night with me to help plan out something cool.”

Robin saluted and Lucas just rolled his eyes and they all walked to the car to end another great night at the fair.

****

“Let’s play to your strengths,” Robin said, sitting cross-legged on Steve’s bed.

“Sports, sewing, and history,” Steve said, ticking them off on his fingers. “Fat lot of good that’s going to do me. It’s not as though I can whip out something overnight as a token of my affection.”

She rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something fancy. You could do something small. Like maybe use that fancy red thread you got at the weavers yesterday.”

He blushed. “I wouldn’t know where to start. Everything I know how to make is either winter stuff or something he’d never use.”

“He uses that handkerchief all the time,” Robin pointed out. “You could do something like that.”

Steve flopped dramatically on his back. “Not if he knew it was made from that fancy thread I got. He’d want to protect it.”

Robin had to give him that one. Because that would be an Eddie thing to do. And while the sentiment was sweet it would make Steve sad that he never used it.

Suddenly Steve sat up. “Oh!”

She blinked at him. “What’s ‘oh’?”

“He was telling me just last week,” he explained, “that the bag he used to hold all his dice for their game got a hole in it and it kept spilling the dice all over the inside of his backpack!”

Robin grinned. “Let’s pick out the best material to match that pretty thread.”

Steve nodded. “I just have to make a quick phone call to find out how big the bag should be and I can have this done in no time at all.”

He called Dustin and told him his idea. Dustin was ecstatic and told him everything he needed to know.

Robin and Steve then dug into his material stores and picked out a nice black felt and a satin red lining to make doubly sure Eddie wouldn’t lose the dice down the gaping maw that was his backpack.

He then showed Robin how to make patterns and cut them. Then he got to work.

Even with how easily Robin got bored, she watched the whole time with fascination. How he embroidered his pattern into what would be the front of the bag. How quickly and evenly Steve stitched the pieces of cloth together. He explained the process every step of the way and her eyes just lit up.

He turned the bag right side out and fitted it with silver draw string. He pulled it taut and held it up to Robin to see.

She reached out and gently took it from him. “That’s so cool. You do a bunch of these at work and send them to Katie as way to gauge reactions to your work, while you make bigger pieces.”

Steve licked his lips. “You really think these would sell?”

“And I think Eddie would be pleased as punch that he got the first official Harrington Pattern design.”

Steve took it back from her and smiled. “That would make it even more special, wouldn’t it?”

Robin grinned. “Yes, yes it would.”

He threw his arms around her. “You’re the best soulmate anyone could possibly ask for.”

She blushed but held him tight. “You too, Stevie.”

When Steve finally pulled back he tapped his finger on his lips. “Now what to make you.”

Robin squealed. “But you already made something awesome. The pirate costume was amazing, you don’t have to do more just because you made Eddie something.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, but I just tailored the clothes. I didn’t make them. I want to make you something.”

She scoffed. “Like the only thing I need are gloves for marching band. Since I have to have hand-me-downs, they are either too tight or way too big.”

His eyes lit up. “I’ve never made gloves before. That would be fun and interesting to try.”

“How would you even measure something like that?” Robin asked, a small amount of hope creeping into her voice.

Steve grinned. “Do you remember those ugly ass hand turkeys they made us draw in elementary school?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Just. Like. That.”

Her eyes went wide. “Wait are you serious?”

Steve just grinned.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

I'm not 100% sure my history experience in school is universal in the US, but in order to bridge the gap you actually had to an elective history class called Twentieth Century. Like it was straight up bullshit. And before you ask, you can bet your ass I took that class. It was taught by my favorite teacher. Of course I took that class.

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[wizzard890]

I have such a perfect and wonderful wife. Last night I cut my hand pretty badly while opening a can of fancy cat food, and not only did she spring into action and bandage up my hand like a brilliant and focused WWI nurse, she's made me not one but two very strong margaritas this evening to help deal with the pain.

I can't believe she lives in my house. If I want I can go into the other room and look at her. She will ask me if I need anything and when our dumplings arrive from the dumpling store she'll bring them to me and even bring me a little napkin so I can eat like a lady despite my debilitated hand.

I'm pretty tipsy, I think, but that is only making this post more crucial. Long story short, always remember how good it is to have a wife or a girlfriend or a woman who loves you who also remembers to buy hydrogen peroxide. Oh what marvelous fortune!

[wrishwrosh]

re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

[canary-song]

Due to what little on-screen interactions we see between Noir Peter (Pete) and Peni in ITSV, it's no surprise that a lot of people have agreed upon the popular fanon of them being a sort of father-daughter duo (or, for those who subscribe a bit more to Pete being younger due to the comics, a sibling-like relationship). It's cute so I support it, but it got me thinking about the two in comparison to eachother, specifically in terms of corrupt systems and how they're handled in their stories. I think the two have a bit more a contrast than just the surface level stuff, so let's look into it!

(Essay + comic panel evidence beneath the cut)

From the very start of Peni's (unfortunately short) comics, she's shown as very resigned to her fate - when brought in to discuss her father and her future "career" in the SP//DR program, she's upfront and blunt; My father is dead, and I'm the only one who can replace him, so I will. It's a foregone conclusion, and one she doesn't shy away from.

Furthermore, even though we see how, throughout the comics, she's basically given no life beyond her work, and even her school hours are eaten into, she's told again and again that all of this cost means something.

She has to sacrifice everything, because there's no other choice. Her own Guardians, her Uncle Ben and Aunt May, work for the very organization that her father did, and persist to remind her of the importance of the job, even if they do try to remind her that she can't handle this alone. Very telling, when faced with threats to the multiverse, she briefly asks her Uncle Ben if she should stay with him, only for him to tell her to go.

Duty calls.

This isn't the point of this, but of course she joined Spider HQ and went along with what Miguel was telling her - she's grown up surrounded by very like-minded, sacrifice-willing adults. Of course she has to do this. What other option is there?

On the other end, Pete is quite the opposite of Peni's story. Yes, 100%, like all Spiderpeople, there's the element of responsibility, that looming recognition that not doing what you can gets people hurt, but while Peni's story is set up so that she's fighting for her system of authority, Pete is unsurprisingly against his. At any point that he can, even pre-spiderbite, he's picking fights and trying to fix things. He's so set in his beliefs and outspoken that he makes his own mentor question his actions, constantly in pursuit of a better world.

It's the responsibility of the people to give a shit, and Pete cares so much that it drives him a bit mad, I think.

Where Peni is told that this is the way things work, Pete is demanding that it change, asking questions. Peni was raised to accept her responsibility, whereas Pete was raised to fight against the expected status quo.

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON THEIR RESPECTIVE BENS.

I'll try keeping this fragment of a thought short because we're already clocking in 6 paragraphs pre-edits and I need to feed the dogs their dinner soon, but the TLDR is that Uncle Ben is the last surviving legal Guardian of Peni, and though distant, he tries his best to support her while she's in the SP//DR program. Pete's Uncle Ben is, by no such surprise, dead, but specifically, he was a WWI veteran, decorated but guilty.

Uncle Ben is, in the Noir comics, yet another symbol of how doing what you're told can haunt you. He was very vocally against the war machine he was a part of, while Peni's Ben has known nothing else but his work.

This is how completely dead opposite they are in so many regards. They contrast eachother!! It's really interesting! Honestly, I could see Pete getting into an argument with Peni's Ben over how she's been treated, even if it probably wouldn't go well. He cares too much to keep his mouth shut, often.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

I have been using some dead times these past few weeks to go through/purge my latest Project Gutenberg raids, and there are two funny findings I have made:

1- Patricia Brent, Spinster (1918), by Herbert George Jenkins

In general a run-of-the-mill fake dating romance, short and innoffensive, but here's the thing, for anyone familiar with Dorothy L. Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey

The love interest is a lieutenant-colonel Bowen (the story is set in the last year of WWI), wounded in action, D.S.O., M.C. now working at the staff

He's later revealed to be Lord Peter Bowen

He's the second son

His brother holds the title, and his mother, the dowager, is a kind, generous woman with a special link with her second son

Lord Peter has a sister too, Lady Tanagra, who helps the war effort with volunteers

Lord Peter has a man by the name of Peel on the same type as Bunter and Jeeves

Lady Tanagra is in love with a friend of Peter and hers, but nothing has come of it yet because he's of a lower class than her and not rich.

Lord Peter falls in love at first sight with Patricia, and proposes marriage to her many times

She refuses him as many times because of a sense of shameful gratitude and what his family would think

Of course the story and characters are different in several ways, and they are not as charming as Sayers', but the coincidences, the coincidences!

2- The Lonely House (1920) by Marie Belloc Lowndes (sister of Hillaire Belloc)

What I didn't know before downloading this book, is that it is subtitled A Hercules Popeau mystery. Yes, you guessed it, Poirot. But it predates Poirot for a little. The wikipedia page on Poirot puts it this way:

Poirot's name was derived from two other fictional detectives of the time: Marie Belloc Lowndes' Hercule Popeau and Frank Howel Evans' Monsieur Poiret, a retired French police officer living in London.[2] Evans' Jules Poiret "was small and rather heavyset, hardly more than five feet, but moved with his head held high. The most remarkable features of his head were the stiff military moustache. His apparel was neat to perfection, a little quaint and frankly dandified." He was accompanied by Captain Harry Haven, who had returned to London from a Colombian business venture ended by a civil war. [3]

But to say that the name was derived is to understate the situation immensely. Popeau has the physical shape, age, and way of talking and dressing of Poirot. Like Poiret, he's French (though still living in France; the plot of this story happens on a vacation he takes to Monte Carlo with... you won't guess... his friend captain Angus Stuart. A Scottish man, who, believe it or not, falls in love at first sight with our fair protagonist!).

Jules Poiret. Hercule Popeau. Hercule Poirot.

And like, wow, we complain about fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, but if you were into reading many novels in 1920s Britain, there were THREE eccentric, short, plump, dandy-ish, French speaking, British captain adopting sleuths around. We'd have three nickels. Historians 1000 years from now would believe there was a significant number of French and Belgian sleuths traveling England and Europe during the first half of the 20th century.

[geryone]

Tagged by @briarhips (thank you ❤️) to make a post of 9 book recs!!! ❤️

1. The Book of X by Sarah Rose Etter

Etter is quickly becoming a new favorite writer! Cassie is born with her abdomen twisted in a knot and her family owns a meat quarry. So weird & so good.

2. The Dumb House by John Burnside

One of my personal favorites. A man tries recreating an experiment to discover the origin of language. The narrator experiments on his own children. The story itself is so upsetting but the worst part is living in the mind of the narrator who feels NOTHING.

3. At Night All Blood is Black by David Diop

A small book that packs a huge punch. The story of a soldier’s descent into madness in the trenches while fighting in WWI.

4. Our Wives Under The Sea by Julia Armfield

Lesbians, deep sea horror, & the experience of grieving someone who is physically still with you

5. Strange Beasts of China by Yan Ge

This audiobook was INSANE!! Have listened to it many times. Scifi book about different types of “beasts” that exist in the world. Told in different short stories. Think about this book often!!

6. My Dark Vanessa by Kate Elizabeth Russell:

I don’t recommend this lightly. This one is hard to read & deeply uncomfortable. About the relationship between a 15 year old girl and her 45 year old teacher. Partly told from the perspective of 15 year old Vanessa & also from Vanessa when she’s 30. A reflection on trauma & the inability to let yourself believe you are a victim.

7. The Death of Jane Lawrence by Caitlin Starling:

Essentially Crimson Peak. Gothic horror & such a fun audiobook to listen to in the fall.

8. Rien Ne Va Plus by Margarita Karapanou:

This book is about a relationship ending & all the cruelty and pain that are involved. Told from the perspective of both people. Adored this!!

9. Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis:

This book was formative read for me as a teenager. A retelling of Psyche & Eros told from the perspective of an older sister. I related so hard to Orual the first time I read this :(

Tagging: @jockpoetry @coffee-writes @iloveyoumorethangod @emiliosandozsequence @bloedkoraal @mermaidteeth @saintmelangell @woundthatswallows @oliverisms @othellho @typewriter-worries @unmarrow + anyone else who wants to :) !! Always looking for more recs

[sixteenseveredhands]

Milunka Savić, the Most Decorated Female Combatant in History: Savić disguised herself as a man in order to join the Serbian army during the Balkan Wars, then served again during WWI, earning medals from Serbia, France, Russia & Britain; she also provided medical support to anti-fascists during WWII and spent 10 months in a Nazi concentration camp

This is a total rewrite of a post that I did last year, with much more detailed information, more photos, and some additional sources.

Milunka Savić is regarded as the most decorated female combatant in history. She fought for the Serbian Army during both of the Balkan Wars, before returning to the battlefield again during WWI. Savić was wounded in battle on 9 separate occasions and survived the Serbian Great Retreat, making the perilous journey across the mountains of Montenegro and Albania through the dead of winter with a serious head injury.

Her military career began during the First Balkan War in 1912, when her younger brother was called up to serve in the Serbian army, and she decided that she would covertly take his place. She cut her hair, wore men's clothing, and presented herself as her brother.

The First Balkan War, 1912: Milunka Savić as a young soldier during the First Balkan War, shortly after joining the Serbian army

She was able to hide her true identity for quite some time. Her skills as a soldier quickly became evident as the war progressed, and she earned her first medal/promotion during the Battle of Bregalnica in 1913. Unfortunately, she was hit by shrapnel from a Bulgarian grenade during her tenth deployment, causing injuries to her chest and abdomen, and those wounds (along with the subsequent medical treatment) ultimately led to the discovery that she had lied about her identity.

In recognition of her accomplishments on the battlefield, her commanding officer decided not to punish her for the initial deception, but informed her that she would not be allowed to return to combat -- as a woman, she could only be transferred to the nursing division instead.

As the story goes:

Savić was called before her commanding officer. They didn't want to punish her, because she had proven a valuable and highly competent soldier, and the military deployment that had resulted in her [sex] being revealed had been her tenth; but neither was it suitable for a young woman to serve in combat. She was offered a transfer to the Nursing division. Savić stood at attention and insisted that she only wanted to fight for her country as a combatant.

The officer said he'd think it over and give her his answer the next day. Still standing at attention, Savić responded, "I will wait." It is said he only made her stand an hour before agreeing to send her back to the infantry.

Savić was able to serve in a combat role throughout the remainder of the Balkan Wars.

The Second Balkan War finally came to an end in 1913, but that peace was short-lived, as World War I erupted just a year later. Savić returned to the military once more, serving in the elite "Iron Regiment" of the Serbian army.

World War I, c.1915-1916: Savić was no longer forced to hide her identity when she returned to battle during WWI, and these images show her posing in uniform with her hair grown out

Savić received the Serbian Karađorđe Star with Swords medal on two separate occasions during WWI; the second medal was given to her after the Battle of Crna Bend in 1916, where she was credited with single-handedly capturing 23 Bulgarian soldiers. She received several other medals throughout the course of her career, including the French Legion of Honor (twice), the French Croix de Guerre, the Russian Cross of St. George, the British Medal of the Most Distinguished Order of St. Michael, and the Serbian Miloš Obilić.

WWI, c.1915-1916: Milunka Savić as a Corporal in the Iron Regiment

She suffered a serious head injury while fighting along the Macedonian front, and she was still gravely wounded when Austro-Hungarian, German, and Bulgarian forces gained control of Serbia in the winter of 1915. The Serbian army was then ordered to make a full retreat from Serbia; Savić and her fellow soldiers, along with the Serbian government and more than 200,000 civilians, were all forced to flee through the mountains of Montenegro and Albania in the dead of winter, hoping to reach Allied forces along the Adriatic Coast -- a perilous journey that would later be known as the Serbian Great Retreat (or the Albanian Golgotha). Roughly 400,000 people embarked on this journey, and less than 180,000 of them survived, eventually reaching the Allied ships along the Adriatic coast.

Despite her injuries, Milunka Savić was among the survivors. She was sent to an infirmary, where she spent several months recovering from her injuries, before she returned to the battlefield alongside Allied forces.

At the end of the war, the French government offered to provide Savić with a full pension and living accommodations in France, in recognition of her actions while serving alongside the French military during WWI. She ultimately declined the offer and chose to retire back in Serbia instead, where she and her husband settled down to raise their daughter and three other girls that Milunka had adopted. The couple would later separate, however, and Milunka was left to raise her children as a single mother, working at a local bank to make ends meet.

In 1941, Serbia (which was then part of Yugoslavia) fell under Nazi occupation. During this period, Savić was involved in providing medical support to local partisans and anti-fascists who had resisted the Nazi occupation. She was eventually arrested by German officers; there are differing accounts of the events leading up to her arrest, with some sources suggesting that she was arrested as a result of her involvement with the local partisans and other anti-fascist elements, while other sources claim that she was arrested after she offended several Nazi officials by openly refusing to attend a formal banquet that was being held in honor of the German military campaign. In any case, she was imprisoned at the infamous Baljinca Concentration Camp for ten months before finally being released.

She faced other forms of hardship in the aftermath of WWII, as she struggled to support herself and her children. She worked several low-paying jobs over the years, while living in a dilapidated, decaying house in Belgrade. Her name (and her long list of accomplishments) had largely faded into obscurity by then.

Serbia, 1972: Milunka Savić proudly displaying some of her medals in 1972, when her story became more widely known

It wasn't until the early 1970s that her involvement with the military finally began to receive more widespread attention, both in Serbia and abroad. Following the 1972 publication of an article that told her story, her local community in Belgrade quickly rallied to provide her with newer, more suitable living arrangements.

Sadly, she passed away within just a year of the article's publication.

In 2013, Milunka Savić's remains were relocated from the small mausoleum where they had been interred since 1973, and she was reburied in Belgrade's "Alley of the Greats," where some of the most well-known and most widely respected Serbians are laid to rest.

Sources & More Info:

Research Gate: Milunka Savić: the Forgotten Heroine of Serbia

Girl Museum: Milunka Savić

Law and Politics: The Position of Women in the Serbian Army

Medium: The Fearless Woman-Bomber Who Died Proud, Broke, and Forgotten

Wikipedia: Milunka Savić

Mental Floss: The Serbian "Great Retreat" Begins (WWI Centennial)