#and not just any country! FANTASY RUSSIA

[storywestistrash]

i am actually so tired of the way westerners treat eastern europeans

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to the Army

I have been asked to do this post for quite a long while and I finally got around to it. This guide is a basic guide, you may need to do further research into specific armies across the world. Armies are a necessary part to any world building, so what do we need to know about them?

(PS I had planned to include air force and navy but I am just one person and I cut myself, and the read more link, some slack)

Ranks

Field Marshal (FM) The Field Marshal is the highest rank of within the Army. The rank of Field Marshal was often granted in times of war (a general must have committed an act of valour, i.e. a victory). The rank can sometimes be used as a divisional command rank or brigade command. The UK, Austria-Hungary, Afghanistan, Germany, India, and Pakistan use the rank as a reward for achievement. Spain and Mexico use it for divisional command while countries such as Portugal, France and Brazil for use it for brigade command. The rank of Field Marshal is a "five star" position. The rank does not exist in the US army. They are addressed as Field Marshal Surname. Their insignia is two crossed batons surrounded by yellow leaves set under a crown.

General (Gen.) A General is the commanding officer of an army or army corps. It is currently the highest rank granted in most armies today, it is a 4 star position. A General is in charge of commanding large units, they are in charge of making strategic decisions for the army, oversee major military operations, manage the needs of the army. They are addressed as General Surname. Their insignia is four stars (US, France, Germany, Russia) and a sword and baton crossed under a crown and a star (UK). Lieutenant General (Lt.Gen) Lieutenant General commands an army corps or a division (tens of thousands of soldiers). They are also involved in strategic planning. They also hold positions within the Ministry of Defence/Equivalents. They would often serve as advisers to the government and aid Generals. It is a 3 star position and they addressed as Lieutenant General Surname. Their insignia is three stars (US, Germany, France, Russia) and a crossed sword and baton under a crown (UK)

Major General (Maj.Gen) Major General is a general officer in the army, responsible for leading and operational roles. They would command divisions of tens of thousands of soldiers. They support the officers above them, helping with strategy, executing the strategy, oversee the training of their units. They are addressed as Major General Surname. They are a 2 star position. Their insignia is a crossed sword and baton with a star (UK) and two stars (US, Germany, Russia, France). Brigadier General (Brig.Gen) Brigadier General is a one-star general officer in the army. They command brigades (3,000 to 5,000 soldiers), assisting Major Generals in tactical planning and coordination of operations. They are addressed as Brigadier General Surname. Their insignia is one star (Russia, Germany, US,), two silver stars (France) and s crown and three stars (for the UK, stars are known as pips). Colonel (Col) Colonels command brigades of about (3,000 to 5,000 soldiers), they are senior staff officers who both provide leadership to their units which are sometimes specialised agencies, such as task forces. Colonels are addressed as Colonel Surname. A silver eagle (US), a pair of diamond pips under a crown (UK), three silver pips upon shoulder braid with silver braid (Germany), three gold pips on a shoulder board with golden braid (France and Russia). Major (Maj) Majors command units of around 120 officers. They are in charge of the training and welfare of their soldiers, administrative duties within the barracks and within their unit. They are the primary staff officer in brigades. They assist superior officers in planning and executing missions and tactical plans. The Major is referred to as Major Surname. Their insignia is 2 gold stars on a shoulder board with golden braid (Russia, France) 2 silver pips on a shoulder board with silver braid (Germany), a crown (UK), a golden oak leaf (US)

Captain (Cpt) Captains lead companies usually around 50-200 soldiers. They are often the second officer in a company working alongside a superior officer. They are responsible for operations in the field such as ensuring equipment is kept up to date and in good condition, offering logistic support, and managing their troops. Captains are addressed as Captain Surname. Their insignia is two silver bars (US), three pips (UK), three silver pips on a shoulder board with silver braid (Germany), three golden pips on a shoulder board with gold braid (France, Russia) Lieutenant (Lt) Lieutenants command a platoon (about 30 odd soldiers). They are in charge of overseeing the training and discipline of their soldiers along with ensuring their welfare. They will participate in missions under the command of a superior. Lieutenants are addressed as Lieutenant Surname. Their insignia is two golden stars on a shoulder board with gold braid (Russia, France), two silver pips on a shoulder board with silver braid (Germany), two pips (UK), one silver bar (US) Second Lieutenant (2/Lt) The Second Lieutenant leads smaller units, working with enlisted soldiers. They are crucial in the training of soldiers, they maintaining personnel records and manage the resources needed for a mission or the units welfare. They would be addressed in conversation as Lieutenant but referred to as Second Lieutenant in dispatches and in correspondence. Their insignia is one gold bar (US), one pip (UK), one silver pip on a shoulder board with silver braid (Germany), one gold pip on a shoulder board with gold braid (Russia, France)

Enlisted Men

Warrant Officer 1st Class (1/WO)This is the most senior non-commissioned rank. They focus on discipline, prisoners, ammunition supplies and various technical and non-combatant services. In the UK, they often hold the rank of Regimental Sergeant Majors (RSMs) and are appointed by the Secretary of State Defence while in the US, the Secretary of the Army appoints them. They are addressed as Mr/Ms/Mrs Surname or Chief. Their insignia is one silver bar and a black square (US), the royal coat of arms (UK), four silver pips on a shoulder board with silver braid (Germany), three gold chevrons and a gold star (France), two gold stars on a shoulder board with golden braid (Russia) Warrant Officer 2nd Class (2/WO) The Warrant Officer Second Class would do similar jobs as the WO1, but they handle the below regimental section. Warrant Officer Class 1 (WO1). WO2s can be referred to as Company Sergeant Majors (CSMs) or Squadron Sergeant Majors (SSMs) (depending on their unit). They take roles within training, discipline and aiding the Warrant Officer Class 1 (WO1). Addressed as CSMs/SSMs and as Mr./Mrs/Ms. Their insignia is one gold star on a shoulder board with gold braid (Russia), Three golden chevrons (France), three silver pips on a shoulder board with silver braid (Germany), crown (UK), silver bar with two squares (US). Sergeant (Sgt)The Sergeant are responsible for the soldiers under their command. They oversee their team, acting as mentors and supervisors to their soldiers. Sergeants are over a squad of 10 soldiers. They are responsible them, from performance, prepare them for combat and their needs. They are addressed as Sergeant Surname. Their insignia is three chevrons (US, UK), two silver pips on a shoulder board with silver pips (Germany), two golden chevrons (France) and three golden chevrons (Russia). Corporal (Cpl)Corporals lead small squads of soldiers, no more than . Corporals are in charge of the training of their soldiers and ensuring that they are up to standard. They handle all the paperwork for their squad such as records. Corporals will accompany their soldiers on missions, leading patrols and overseeing their soldiers in the field. They are usually responsible for large pieces of equipment. They are addressed as Corporal Surname. Their insignia two chevrons (US, UK), one silver pips with shoulder board with a silver braid (Germany), two gold chevron (France, Russia). Lance Corporal (L.Cpl)Lance Corporals help Corporals lead their teams, acting as their second in command. They are in charge of disciplining, mentoring and leading their squads. They are also in charge of large weapons. They are addressed as Lance Corporal Surname. Their insignia one golden chevron (Russia, France), none/one silver pip (Germany), one chevron (UK) and one chevron with crossed rifles (US) Private (Pte)Privates are the lowest rank in the army. They will have just come out of training with the basic skills of a soldier. Privates are given tasks by superior officers, must obey the orders given and are usually given the more hands-on tasks, such as maintenance of weapons and their camp. They are addressed as Private Surname. Their insignia is one chevron/none (US), no insignia (UK, France, Russia, Germany).

Non-Commissioned Officers vs Commissioned Officers

You may have often heard the term "non-commissioned officer" if you have ever watched any war media. The difference is that Commissioned Officers receive their rank via a formal document signed by a high-ranking official, such as the monarch or a political leader. The Commissioned Officers are usually Lieutenants, Colonels, Generals, Captains, Majors. They are responsible for giving orders and making decisions. Non-Commissioned Officers are promoted from the enlisted ranks, gaining their promotion on skills alone. They are in charge of discipline, training and carrying out orders. They are usually ranked among Corporals and Sergeants.

Jobs within the Army

No army is just made up of officers and their soldiers. An army is like a town on the move, there are hundreds of different tasks that must be undertaken to ensure the army is fed, transported, kept in line and kept equipped.

Medic: Medics are the first responders for wounded soldiers, they administer first aid, medication and medical care to the soldiers in their unit. Medics are usually NCOs.

Chaplain: Is a soldier with some religious or spiritual calling that administers last rites, confession, spiritual guidance and solace for soldiers. They will see to soldiers of all creeds and faiths.

Artillery Crew: The Artillery Crew handle the maintenance and inventory of artillery weapons and related equipment. NCOs with training in the handling of artillery.

Military Police: The Military Police are force within the army that keep soldiers in line, maintain order and arrest any soldier caught doing a crime on the job. Always NCOs.

Intelligence: This is the information post, which involves fact gathering, recording and study of information needed by the army to mobilise.

Quartermaster: The quartermaster manages the distribution and gathering of all the things needed for the army from uniforms to equipment for the soldier's packs. Usually NCOs.

Mess Officer: The Mess Officer oversees the Mess Hall, managing the staff as they cook and prepare the army's meals. The Mess Officer would also be in charge of budgeting, inventory, health and safety and providing meals timely. Usually an officer, Captains and Lieutenants.

Adjutant: Is an officer who acts as an assistance to a superior officer taking on secretarial duties such as paperwork and arranging their diary. Usually a Captain or a Major.

Combat Engineer: The Combat Engineer is in charge of maintaining and building fortifications. NCOs with specialised skills in the field.

Logistics: Logistic Specialists handle the supplies, equipment and arranging transportation. NCOs.

Armourer: The armourer is in charge of weapons and ammunition. They handle any repairs needed and see to the safe storing of these valuable items. NCOs.

Communications Specialist: These Specialists handle communications, the communication equipment and its maintenance. NCOs usually with previous experience or training.

Mechanics: Mechanics are in charge of the maintenance of vehicles and machinery. They handle repairs, do check ups, offer support in the field and ensure everything is in good shape. NCOs with training and skills in the area.

Equipment

The soldiers will not be going into any situation without equipment - at least, not at first. Equipment is like gold dust in the field, especially if a unit is within enemy territory or the supply chain cannot be relied upon. Soldiers may often turn to thievery in order to resupply themselves with ammunition, weapons, supplies and even boots. In WWII, the newly formed company the Special Air Service - the SAS - actually raided their allies for supplies.

The soldier would carry essential supplies when they are first deployed. These would include (may vary):

Flasks/Canteen: Or some sort of drinking container. A soldier will need to hydrate if they don't wish to die-dydrate on a long march. They may also carry water purification chemicals such as iodine.

First Aid Kits: All soldiers will carry the basics of a first aid kit. This would include bandages, gauze, burn ointment, tourniquet, pain relief (not the good stuff), scissors and tweezers.

Knife: It is always handy to have something to cut things with.

Gun Cleaning Tools: Soldiers will have the equipment to care for their weapons. An uncared for weapon is an invitation for death.

Ammunition: A soldier would carry ammunition with them.

Entrenching Equipment: Something to dig with, usually a collapsible shovel.

Rations: Soldiers may often carry some sort of food with them, usually of the preserved kind.

Some form of shelter: Soldiers may carry something to shelter themselves such as a sleeping bag, a tent, a blanket.

Signal Mirror: Soldiers carry signal mirrors to send visual signals to communicate with others.

Toiletries: Basic hygiene items.

Weaponry

Soldiers will not only just need equipment to survive on the field. Soldiers will carry all sorts of weapons on them. It was up to the soldier to care for the weapon and ensure it is up to scratch. Ammunition, of course, doesn’t grow on trees and nor do weapons. Weapons and ammunition like supply I mentioned above could often be “liberated” from the enemy or even unwitting allies. Every soldier will carry:

A rifle: This is the long-range weapon carried by almost all soldiers. They will use this in combat, especially if fighting from a fixed position.

A handgun or a pistol: Most soldiers will carry a secondary gun. These guns are useful in tight spaces or close combat.

Bayonet: A knife or blade that is attached to the rifle. This allows a soldier to stab the enemy with their rifle.

Combat Knife: A knife used in combat.

Mortar: This is a short-barrelled artillery piece. It is used to fire shells at steep angles.

Hand Grenades: These are handheld explosives carried by soldiers. They have a delayed fuse, meaning that they are useful as both a long-range weapon and as a close-range weapon – one could leave one behind as a present. They are typically activated by pulling the pin, flinging it away from the body, toward the enemy and denoted.

Uniforms

Above in rankings, we went through the insignia which is the symbols on one's uniform that denotes your rank and place in the hierarchy of things. Soldiers will be inspected every day to ensure their uniforms are up to standard and will face the wrath of superiors if their uniforms are unkempt and their appearance not up to the mark. Every private learns how to shine their own boots, sort out their own uniforms and are responsible for looking their best. There are different kinds of uniform for a soldier.

Casual Uniform: This uniform is comprised of a more casual uniform, made up of a tunic/shirt, trousers and boots. Certain units will wear caps and berets denoting their unit and rank as well. Combat Uniform: This is worn on the field. It will often reflect the climate the soldier is going into, so will be light and heavy depending on the weather. A soldier would wear a combat jacket, trousers, wear a helmet, wear their identification tags/dog tags. These would be in mute colours, usually khaki or camouflage. Service Dress Uniform: This is worn during official duties and formal events. It comprises of a dress shirt, tie, peaked cap/beret, creased trousers and a jacket with their insignia, unit symbols and medals. Dress Uniform: This is worn during very formal ceremonies. A formal jacket pinned with ribbons, embroidered insignia and the medals of their achievements and commendations, creased trousers, dress shirt and tie, polished shoes and a formal hat cap/beret.

Life of a soldier (On Base and in the Field)

Soldiers on active duty will be expected to manage many tasks, not just firing at the enemy or storming enemy beaches. Soldiers are expected to fulfil maintenance work, defence, offence, administrative duties (if needed), engineering and communications.

On Base: A soldier’s day will be planned right down to the second. They will get up at a certain time, have an allotted time to get ready and tidy up their bunk, report to various drills and participate and have a list of duties to undertake within the day. These duties involve maintenance on base, helping with any office work, guarding and patrolling, doing specialised tasks such as helping in the infirmary. Most privates will do the grunt work, anything hands on or labour intensive while officers will see to training soldiers or paperwork or supply management.

In the Field: The life of a soldier in the field wasn’t as regimented as on base – it can’t be, since most soldiers won’t have the exact same day especially in battle or marching from place to place. But every soldier will have certain duties to undertake. Of course, fighting will be included, some soldiers would take it in shifts to man a fixed position or to engage the enemy or to participate in missions into new or enemy territory. Soldiers would take their place “out on the line”, patrolling the edges of their camp to ensure they can’t be crept up on. Soldiers will erect camp every night they aren’t marching which includes the putting up of tents, digging of latrine pits, building fortifications. Soldiers not out on the line or engaging the enemy will spend their time at camp either helping in the mess hall, in the infirmary or keeping the camp ship-shape. Soldiers may often be sent out to “forage” (*cough, cough* steal) whatever they need such as food.

The Realities of the Army

Good vs Evil. Yes, sometimes the army are the heroes. But in reality, war is a grey area. No army in the world is wholly bad or innocent. Every single army on earth has committed war crimes and every army has had to make decisions which some would find morally reprehensible. The point is that painting an army as the good guys or the bad guys in your narrative can’t work because it isn’t realistic. You can of course highlight these issues by the actions of a few soldiers while still retaining the antagonists and the heroes. You can of course pit the ideals of both sides in a war together, to firmly push your reader toward the good guys vs the bad guys. But the reality is a simple one: all armies kill, all armies steal and all armies destroy.

Civilian vs Soldier: The Reality Civilians suffer at the hands of their own army as well as the enemy. Civilians often had to deal with soldiers taking their crops, livestock and overtaking their homes in searches for food, shelter and resources. Enemy civilians would also put up with pillaging, looting and in some cases death, assault and sexual abuse. It is of course against protocol to harm civilians but things do happen in theatres of war.

The Army vs the Soldier

While the army expects a lot out of the soldier as an induvial, the army can often fall short of their duties to that soldier. This can be unintentional, for example supplies can get lost or stolen. But there are instances where soldiers and their needs are sacrificed for the greater good. They maybe passed over for supplies or reinforcements for another unit. They may be placed in difficult circumstances without any hope of relief. They may not have the equipment needed to fight their battle or stay alive. Sometimes, armies even shot their own soldiers for insubordination, ex. In WW1, many soldiers on all sides were shot by their own for “cowardice” – this may have been the case, but some cases involved soldiers who were suffering from PTSD.

Choice vs Obligation vs Threat Why do soldiers fight? What makes somebody join the army? Sometimes it is the search of opportunity, of a place, of rank and a purpose. But sometimes, going to war isn’t the choice of the soldier. Drafts and conscription make military service compulsory for certain age groups and genders. In peacetime, soldiers are enlisted voluntarily in most armies while some countries have compulsory service time even in times of peace. In some wars, criminals in prison were offered the chance to serve in the war as penance for their crimes. There are of course instances when one is threatened or forced into an armed force.

The Effects of War on the Soldier War changes people. The things soldiers see and have to do within war and training will inevitably change them as people. Sometimes, the change is positive, the army has been named by many people as the thing that straightened them out and have them structure. The army sometimes allows soldiers to travel and gain access to opportunities and education that they may never have had access to before. But undeniably, war has negatives effects on soldiers and civilians. Soldiers may suffer from PTSD, depression, suicidal thoughts and feel a disconnect between themselves and their old lives. Soldiers often find it hard to return to their life after the war, especially in radically different settings with people who don’t understand what they have been through. This can lead to substance abuse issues, alcoholism, problems with the law and troubles within relationships among family and romantic partners. Soldiers of course can get injuries while in war or even in training. Loss of limbs, damage to the brain and other organs, broken bones, burns, shrapnel injuries and of course gunshot wounds are all common. Soldiers often get ill while in the field, such illnesses including typhoid, hypothermia, trench foot, dysentery, malaria, pneumonia etc. These are caused by the close living quarters and the often-sub-standard living conditions. Soldiers would often be at risk for pests such as lice and fleas because of their living conditions. Soldiers may often face problems with nutrition, might suffer from dehydration and starvation especially if supplies are scarce.

The Geneva Convention

Your world may not include the Geneva Convention, may pre-date the Geneva Convention or Geneva may not be a place within your WIP, but I include this here so you might have a fair idea about the “rules” of modern warfare. This is just a brief version.

Medical personnel are not to be specifically targeted in operations.

Medical facilities and equipment is not be targeted in operations

Any wounded soldiers or civilians are to be treated, despite allegiance.

Prisoners cannot be tortured or harmed in any way

Prisoners must be fed, well-kept and treated for any injury

Prisoners are not under obligation to tell their captors anything but their name, rank and other personal information – this is so they can be recorded and all information must be recorded and sent to the captured soldier's officers

Prisoners must be allowed to communicate with family and friends.

Prisoners have the right to receive any packages or mail.

Prisoners have the right to access the services of the Red Cross, who cannot be prevented from visiting and inspecting them

Prisoners who are seriously wounded or ill must be released

Any religious figures are to be captured and released as soon as possible

Soldiers cannot take hostages, they cannot pillage, they cannot take slaves.

Soldiers must abstain from humiliating and degrading any captured soldiers or civilians.

Reprisals against civilians and other soldiers are forbidden.

Group punishment is not permitted (Yes, that one teacher did break the Geneva Convention)

Prisoners can be tried by their captors, but they are entitled to a fair trial.

All POWs shall be released at the end of conflict

At sea, hospital ships cannot engage in war.

Any shipwrecked crew on a ship must be rescued despite allegiance.

Children, pregnant women, mothers with very young children, the elderly, the sick and wounded who are imprisoned for a long time, must be released as soon as possible.

Surrendering soldiers, civilians and civilians who participate in acts against an army cannot be harmed and must be taken alive.

The use of weapons to cause suffering, say a non-fatal wound or mutilation is prohibited.  

It outlaws indiscriminate attacks on civilian populations and destruction of food, water and other materials needed for survival.

The destruction of resources that could affect the population such as poisoning the water supply is not permitted.

Certain infrastructure cannot be destroyed or targeted. This includes dams and nuclear stations. Cultural landmarks and religious landmarks are also to be spared.

Recruitment of children into the armed forces is prohibited.

The use of certain symbols such as the Red Cross in order to deceive the enemy is prohibited.

Civilians who do not take part in combat are to be treated respectfully. They are protected from violence from soldiers.

Children and vulnerable people are top-priority to be evacuated to safe havens as soon as possible. All efforts will be made to reunite them with family.

The targeting of civilians and anything that sustains their well-being such as food sources is prohibited.

Military Terminology

This is by no means a full list but these are the most commonly used terms.

Boots on the ground – to physically be in a location

Inspection - a superior officer takes formal note of appearance, condition of living area and weapons.

Drill – a practise in various manoeuvres, marches, procedures

Pass - leave to have some free time, sometimes off base.

Off base - away from military barracks

Tour of duty – the period of time which an action is completed in.

Civvies – Civilian clothing

Detail - a specific task undertaken by a unit or soldier

Mess hall - dining facility

Latrine - toilet

Latrine duty - digging a Latrine pit or cleaning the facility

Flanking - Attacking an enemy formation from the sides

Envelopment - surrounding the enemy from multiple sides

Penetration - breaking past the enemy’s front lines

Reconnaissance by Fire - Firing at positions that may be occupied by the enemy to provoke them into returning fire (so you know where they are)

Ambush - Attacking from concealed position

Retreat - go back the way you came (DO NOT COLLECT €200)

Feigned Retreat - Pretending to retreat and then attacking the enemy

Perimeter - boundary of fortified area

No Man's Land - the space between front lines

Contact line - where opposing sides meet to fight

Supply line - the route the supplies get from base to the field.

Front line - the furthest out troops are place on the line, this is where the most intense fighting happens

Barracks - sleeping quarters in base

Foxhole - a dug position in the ground

Combatant: A person actively engaged in fighting.

Non-combatant: A person not engaged in a conflict.

Civilian: Somebody who is not a member of any military unit.

Militia: Civilians who are armed and trained to fight.

Guerrilla: Small, independent units that takes up arms against an armed force. Very effective.

Saboteur: Somebody who deliberately sabotages equipment and supplies.

Spy: Somebody who gathers information about the enemy.

Operative: A soldier who carries out a specific task.

Mercenary: A soldier for hire

Contractor: A person or a group of people who are hired to provide advice, services and additional support to the army and their operations.

Conscription: Compulsory enlistment.

Enlistment: Joining the army.

Exercise: Simulated military practises or manoeuvres for training.

War game: Simulated war fare for training.

Mission: The operation.

Objective/Target: The objective of the mission.

Campaign: Multiple operations.

Down Range – being within the combat zone

In-Country – being within in a war zone

Quarters – can mean one of two things either it is a medic's order to stay in the camp or barracks or military family housing.

Squared away - to fix

Siege: Where one army sits outside a fortified town or position and tries to claim it.

Convoy: A large group of vehicles such as trucks, jeeps and tanks travel together. It is harder to target more than one vehicle.

Escort: More vehicles and soldiers who accompany a convoy.

Strike/Assault: Attacking the enemy.

Counterattack: An attack to respond to a previous attack

Rear: Behind the formation

Front: Before the formation.

Line: The formation.

Column: The formation in a line.

Formation: The arrangement of soldiers

Deployment: Soldiers moving to a position.

Redeployment: Sending soldiers to another position.

Mobilization: Readying soldiers, their supplies and equipment for deployment.

Demobilization: The disbanding of soldiers after an operation.

Reserve: Soldiers and equipment held back. This is usually to conserve soldiers and supplies for emergencies or shortages.

Reinforcement: More soldiers and equipment sent to the soldiers on the line to bulster their efforts.

Casualty: Death, injury, missing.

KIA: Killed in action.

MIA: Missing in action.

Surrender: Yielding to the enemy.

Ceasefire: An agreement to cease hostilities.

Armistice: A temporary stay of fighting.

Battalion: A large unit of soldiers. Usually in the range of 300 upwards to 800 or so soldiers.

Regiment: A unit made up of several battalions.

Division: A military unit (10,000-20,000)

Corps: A unit, (20,000-50,000)

Theatre: The place where military operations are undertaken.

Engagement: A battle or a conflict with the enemy.

Manoeuvre: Planned movement.

Logistics: The planning of moving soldiers and equipment to soldiers.

Ordnance: Supplies.

Artillery: Large-calibre firearms.

Infantry: Soldiers who fight on foot.

Reconnaissance: Gaining information about the enemy and their positions.

Tactical: Planning and implementation the military strategies.

Strategic: Planning and directing strategies.

Operational: The following through of military operations.

Command/Control: The authority to direct military operations.

Communications: The passing of information between units, base and HQ.

HQ: Head Quarters

Intelligence: Information about the enemy

Counterintelligence: Preventing the enemy from gaining information about the army, such as the famous Operation Mincemeat.

Camouflage: The use of material or paint to hide oneself from one’s enemy.

Fortification: Defensive structure

Entrenchment: Digging trenches or foxholes.

Garrison: Military station.

Bivouac: A temporary camp, but this camp is without no cover. This means no tents or shelter.

Dog Tags - Metal identification tags worn by soldiers

Patrol: Soldiers will leave camp or their positions to walk within their boundaries

Raid: Attacking on the enemy’s position.

Zero Dark Thirty - Early as fuck, from 0100 hrs to sunrise.

Copy - I understand

Unit - can mean any organisation in the military

Platoon - a section within a company made up of 30-50 soldiers

Contact - Engaging with the enemy

Tactically Acquired - Stolen

Squad - a smaller faction of a company

CO - Commanding officer

XO - second in command

Hang Fire - wait for the next set of orders

Demilitarized Zone - a place that is no go for military equipment, weapons and soldiers

AWOL - Absent without leave

PT - Physical Training

Skivvies - ones undergarments

Active Duty - Full time duty in active service

As You Were - Go back doing whatever you were doing or standing how you were standing

BOLO - Be on the Lookout

CP - checkpoint

Bunk - Bed

Ruck - backpack

Smoked - physical punishment for an infraction.

Zone of Action - a specific part of the tactical area.

About face - a manoeuvre where a someone or a group turn to face the opposite direction.

POW - Prisoner of War

POW Camp - facility to house POWs

Halt - stop marching/moving

Present Arms - salute, typically by presenting one's weapon or raising the right hand to the forehead

Parade Rest - stand with one's feet shoulder-width apart, hands folded behind their back

Fall out - break formation

Fall in - get into formation

At ease - stand in a more relaxed position

Attention - stand upright, heels together, back straight, shoulders back, arms at the sides.

Books and Media I recommend

Band of Brothers (HBO, Limited Series)

Beyond Band of Brothers by Dick Winters

Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose

M*A*S*H

The Unwomanly Face of War by Svetlana Alexievich

Lady Death: The Memoirs of Stalin's Sniper by Lyudmila Pavlichenko

The Six Triple Eight

Some Desperate Glory: The First World War the Poets Knew by Max Egremont

Poems of the Great War 1914-18

Poems of the Great War by Wilfred Owen

Poems of the Great War by Siegfried Sassoon

Poems of the Great War by Robert Graves

Poems of the Great War by Rupert Brooke

Poems of the Great War by David Jones

SAS Rogue Heroes (BBC)

SAS: Rogue Heroes: The Authorised Wartime History by Ben MacIntyre

Saving Private Ryan

All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque

All Quiet on the Western Front

Private Peaceful by Michael Mupurgo

War Horse by Michael Mupurgo

Road to War by Valerie Wilding

The Trenches by Jim Elderidge

D-Day by Byran Perett

D-Day by Ben MacIntyre

Japan's Pacific War by Peter Williams

Operation Mincemeat by Ben MacIntyre

War Nurse by Sue Reid

Helmet for my Pillow by Robert Leckie

With the Old Breed by Eugene B Sledge

Hacksaw Ridge

D-Day Through German Eyes: How the Wehrmacht Lost France by Jonathan Trigg

Platoon

Britain’s Secret Defences: Civilian saboteurs, spies and assassins during the Second World War by Andrew Chatterton

If You're Reading This...: Last Letters from the Front Line by Sian Price

A Bridge Too Far

Firepower in Limited War by Robert Scales

Storm of Steel by Ernst Jünger

Dunkirk

The Things They Cannot Say: Stories Soldiers Won't Tell You About What They've Seen, Done or Failed to Do in War by Kevin Sites

1917

On Artillery by Bruce Gudmundsson

Letters From Iwo Jima

Das Boot

The Longest Day

Come and See

War Horse

[deaddee-anime-brownfanlady]

I will never understand certain people who deemed themselves as " Leftists " or "Progressives " or so-called "allies " for minorities and marginalized groups and pretend to act like they give a Fuck about said groups of people. But have no issues throwing many of said minorities and marginalized groups under the bus as "acceptable collateral damage " with Trump if he gets back in Office again.

Because they idiotically believe that Trump would bring out their glorious "Revolution."

These people aren't serious at all about politics and have deeply lost touch with reality with this stupid belief of theirs that is nothing more then just pure fantasy.

I so badly want these people to stop acting like they actually care about black and brown people or immigrants and LGBTQ people and women, also religious minorities and such.

When in actuality, they have no problems with putting a highly unhinged, unstable, reckless convicted dangerous criminal bigoted piece of shit wannabe dictator back in power again.

Truly Fuck these phony fake-ass people who claimed to care about these groups, but actually have no problems with Fucking over said groups and have them suffer solely because they want to punish democrats for not being " Super leftist enough " or try to "punish" Biden because they want to live their Hunger Games Revolutionary dreams.

That they seem to think America losing complete democracy and turning into a far-right authoritarian theocratic country no better than North Korea or Russia or any other dictatorship nation isn't a problem because they believe that a dictatorship "Isn't that BaD " or living under a theocratic regime " Won't be a Big DeaL ".

I swear these people aren't real Leftists and should just admit to themselves that they don't actually give a flying shit about the groups of people they pretend to care about and that they are fine with authoritarianism rule.

Really Fuck these people, my family and loved ones and everyone else I care about aren't you're "acceptable collateral damage" for your imagery Revolution.

[headingalaxys-spicy]

Can I ask for a country!reader with aph america, china and russia who used to depend on them for survival in the past because they were very poor, but now they are successful and distancing themselves? Thanks

I uh got lost on this one and it’s a long Drabble where I think I hit the mark but didn’t .

This one is kind of a long read.

Anyways I still hope you enjoy!

America 🇺🇸

Reminsing about the times you used to cling to him for everything.

You and your citizens needed food because your nation was experiencing a once-in-a-mellinnia drought?

You got it. Alfred would have prepared you and all of your people a splendid feast. He’s more than happy to provide.

Lacking clothes?

Not a problem. He’s made sure that all the clothes you require are bespoke. You look stunning & quickly made any other nation stare at you in awe whenever you attended world meetings with Alfred. Since you needed him, you did your best to prove your loyalty to him in subtle but sufficient ways. You always hung off his arm whenever meetings adjourned or before they began. You always sat next to him & voted in his favor when he did something for you. You’d become the lovely little charm he enjoyed showing on the world stage. He loved having all the strings attached to you. You were like a perfectly crafted marionette doll made just for him.

Alfred was always interested in maintaining dominance in your relationship. It was amusing to watch you attempt to break that power dynamic.

Alfred is going to allow you to cut your ties to him symbolically. He’ll allow your economy to blossom, the education sector to bloom, and you have one of the best healthcare systems. You’d figured out how to be efficient. But you had no military because you depended on him, and he couldn’t have you be too far independent from him. But to some degree, he wants you to believe that you are. He didn’t want to lose, just like England. He was better than him and felt that he’d always maintain control over you. It was obvious you couldn’t take care of yourself. You needed him. To him, your success was temporary.

The moment he sees the first string break from his precious puppet, he begins devising a plan to pin you with iron strings.

“Y/N? Why are you looking into how to structure a military? Aren’t the bases I gave you enough? But also aren’t your people kinda weak and like being with books and having intellectuals and farmers?”

“Yeah….” You began hesitantly and try to concoct a lie that would soothe his fears about being abandoned. You began to abhor the tight strings that choked the life out of your wrists. You wanted to begin to break free so that you could create a future independent of him & his contracts.

“No…actually…” Your voice was trembling now. You forced your arms outwards to the open air, waiting for the divine silver scissors to cut loose your wrists.

“I appreciate you, Alfred… I really do…but” You stare at him straight in the eyes, summoning your strength. His blue orbs had darkened with scary ghost-like shadows. Still you marched onwards.

“But I want to build myself up and be on my own.”

Alfred bit down on his own lip. Holding back his rage was difficult for him but he was desperately in love with you. He thought you would have known that it would have been your permanent place to be with him. The deal was that you were supposed to be in debt to him forever. And forever means until the end of time! Till the two of you were the last people standing in the midst of an alien war, the only ones on a desolate island. You were designed perfectly for him, but he had to let you find out just how difficult it is to be in charge of through thick & thin.

“That also means….” You place a comforting hand on his cheek to break him out of his internal fantasy of the two of you against the world. You attempt to soften the blow to his already bruised ego. A sprinkle of light briefly flashes over his eyes. You already know that what you’ve just started is going to be a major emotional endeavor.

“I can pay you back” A bright like the summer sun smile graced your face & melted some of the ice that had formed in his heart after hearing you wanted to become independent from him.

‘Y/N why do you have to do this to me? Why in hell do you want that of which is forbidden?’ He placed his hand on top of you hand that still cradled his cheek.

“Okay just let me know if I can hel-”

“NO! No… America…I’ve got to learn how to do things on my own. If I depend on you all the time I’ll never know how to do anything.”

The strings that are attached to your soul shake. Your wrists had been cut free by the silver scissors. That feeling was terrifying and magnificent.

Alfred's heart was hit with the sharp sting of a lightning bolt. What he feared was beginning to manifest into reality. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. It made him insanely angry and drove him mad. You never called him by his nation's name like that, at least not in a long time.

“Okay [Country Name]. We can talk later.” He politely removes your hand from his face and leaves you without giving you a hug good-bye. Alfred didn’t give you another glance before he left you alone. Once the door slammed shut that’s when his scheming began.

He will take you down like an agonizing tumor once you have your nation properly running. Alfred will allow you to stabilize because he wants to dissolve you slowly. He will document every miscalculation, bad decision, and failed proposal & use it as evidence that you should have never been allowed to be in charge of your own nation. This time his newer strings would be made of impenetrable steel.

Cartels and Mafias suddenly began to spring up in all of your major cities and spread to the suburbs. Your police departments were ineffective at solving the crime waves that were sweeping your small nation. Your government, of course, was in a panic due to the magnitude and rapid pace of these crime sprees. It only took three weeks for the chaos of the mafia wars to be taken to the quieter streets in the suburbs. There was an apparent hunt to find a drug den that had the product of at least $15 million. It was also rumored that it’s likely a scared diamond somewhere in your nation's midst.

“Oh, this is getting insane!”

You were watching the coverage of your nation's trials and tribulations on international television. America’s news outlets seemed to be particularly harsh. Deep down you were beginning to doubt whether being independent from him was the right choice.

‘Everything is getting so bad so quickly.’

You tap your fingers nervously against your desk until the fact dawns on you that: Dealing with tough issues was a part of life.

You take a deep inhale in and call a meeting with your boss, emergency response teams, & negotiators. You pop open your computer to take notes and devise a plan. You were ready for the crazy next few months with lots of caffeine and difficult conversations.

Alfred hates that you’ve become self-sufficient and can handle the major crises he’s constructed. You had cut loose your feet by now. You knew your silver scissors hungered for more. All you had left to cut was that of which was around your neck. He didn’t want to see you free.

The next thing Alfred will try to attack is your economy. Can’t run a nation on an empty bank account. As he drew up plans to make your nation sink under, there was a delicate knock at the door. He knew it was you. His heart hums fast-paced with anxiety-filled music.

‘Why won’t they be mine?’ He repeats over and over again in his mind. He swiftly flips his plan board to its other blank slate.

“Come in Y/N I know it’s you!” The door swings open to unveil his lovely puppet. You were ecstatic as you practically sprinted to him as you busted through the door. You had a white envelope with you.”

“Here you are Alfred some of what I owe you!” You gleefully hand him your payment. His heart begins to reveal that it has cracks that begin to deepen.

‘They can’t be doing this! How could they?!?! How in the fuck can they not see that they were made for me!’ Alfred didn’t want to admit he admired your determination. You really could be indepe-

Blood crept up his throat at the thought of your independence.

The check that you handed him may as well have been the sharp end of an axe. It made his blood run between ice and fire. He was angry that you desired the forbidden fruit and sad to some degree that you didn’t want him as much as he wanted you.

‘Weren’t you always supposed to stick around with the people who save you….Y/N? I’m your hero after all those decades…That means I’m supposed to own you for life dammit.’

Your hand on his shoulder will jolt him back to reality.

“Alfred, are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah. Yeah. Just busy and consumed with a few important things.” His eyes don’t meet yours they stay surveying the ground. He’s fighting the urge to pin you down & steal your silver scissors before they have a chance to become the ax. It means that you’d be able to sever your ties forever and be in-

“No.” He says to the frigid air-conditioned room.

“Hmm?”

“Long day Y/N and even longer month. You should go.” He shoos you away in an attempt to save face & not showcase his worse tendencies just yet. He needed you to believe that he was 100% on board with your plan to be 100% independent from him.

“Okay! I won’t linger. I’ll have another payment for you soon!” You rush off to continue with your ambitious endeavor. His heart never failed to flutter furiously whenever he was hit by your fiery determination. That’s one of the reasons he loved you and why he had to have you. He was itching to have you living with him again.

Once he see’s that you’d come a significant way in paying off your debt to him you had flourishing trade deals with larger countries that seemed to benefit your population greatly. You were doing it. The thick thread that was around your neck shook.

Alfred’s eye will twitch in reacting to the shift in power. He hated how you weren’t in his home doing more important things like cooking with him, playing video games, pigging out on pizza and watching movies. You knew how to soothe him, make him laugh, and fit perfectly between his arms.

Why did you have to break your responsibility to protect his heart?! Alfred’s inner turmoil about losing you will only increase. It will reach a boiling point where he’s going to resort to kidnapping you if you refuse to have a close permanent relationship where he can easily dominate you.

He shatters those silver scissors you possess into millions of tiny pieces. He doesn’t fail like Arthur because he is superior to that old man of his past. The iron strings will be bitterly cold & burn your skin. The steam of hate will be felt in the air as you know Alfred would never allow you to be without your strings. After all, you were all he’s ever wanted in his lonely life.

China 🇨🇳

There are many early mornings when the beauty of the Spring Blossoms takes his mind off of how his heart aches when he’s without you. With his legs crossed and his mouth inhaling deeply, his mind takes stock of the lack of noise in the background.

You weren’t there because you’d moved away.

Yao’s eye twitched at that awful thought. It made him sick to his stomach. He’s been through numerous wars, scandals, collapses, & centuries worth of bullshit. It’s not like he hadn’t felt betrayal but since he regarded you differently from the others. You had a certain effect on his heart, making him infatuated with you. You were like a rare gem unearthed from the Forbidden City. You were special to him, and no one else was allowed to have you. He, like Alfred, will want to maintain a calm & collected composure in front of you. Yao didn’t want you to know he hated the idea of you separating from him to become more independent. He wanted to keep you trapped in his beautifully crafted glass cage.

‘How in the hell does Y/N not love the life I meticulously crafted for them here?’ His mind wanders to all the fun outings you did together….hand-in-hand. One of the main things he enjoyed doing with you was drifting through Wangfujing snack street—the hustle and buzz of the sea of people that frequented the busy night market.

He loved being your guide & seeing your face light up when you tried something new & enjoyed it.

‘How could that not be enough for you Y/N?’

His nails scrape at his freshly pressed sage brown military uniform. The thick fabric crinkled under his frustration. He understood that having power over you would eventually make you want to escape him. He, however, was impressed with how you breached security systems and bypassed his guards.

For as long as you depended on him Yao primarily treated your relationship as he was your mentor that you were always supposed to adhere to. He always took up most of the time you had in the majority of your schedule. Yao hardly allowed you without his supervision either he or one of his guards was beside you. But what did that matter? Why should you complain? He provided for you since you’d come to him at his doorstep. You were desperate, destitute & in great need. You required his assistance & his tender love and care.

“Of course, y/n of course! Come in! You look sickly I can nurse you back to health!” Yao was ecstatic when you crawled to him in your desperate hour. It meant that he had an opportunity to ensnare you for all of your existence. That’s why he crafted that golden cage for you. It was beautiful, and that's all that should have mattered to you. Yao defended you well whether it be in the negotiation room on the world stage or even on the battlefield.

Yao had you covered. But you were still desperate to leave. It’s why the ground had tiny shards of glass that cut into him deeply.

Yao takes another deep inhale. He understood all too well that this was just a rebellious state & you’d soon be reminded of your place. All he’d have to do is retrieve & re-educate you.

Yao is going to devise ways to make your economy come to a sluggish crawl. He knows it is foolish to allow you to have a strong cultural economy which allowed your nation to expand your tourism, architecture, & education sectors. This allowed you to have time away from him so that you could develop your own ideals… a determent to his dominant control over you & your people. He wanted to keep you trapped in the delusion that you needed him for your survival.

‘The time for my sweet y/n to play this foolish game of independence has run it’s course.’

Yao’s mind blissfully wandered back to the days when he’d first found you: poor, destitute, and alone. You didn’t have any fight within you as a struggling nation. You and your people were on the verge of giving up all hope. Everyone who was a [name of your nation's people] wanted to resign themselves to being dissolved into the cold void of space, leaving behind nothing more than a chapter or two within the catalog of history.

That all changed when you caught the eye of one of the oldest empires in the world: China. He sought you out due to the fact that you were a lovely nation that sat near the sea. You had prime port spots and beautiful land whose capabilities were best suited for farming. He could take you under his wing & teach you how to utilize your available resources to it’s full capabilities. Not to squander itlike you were so foolishly doing.

He recognizes that his first huge miscalculation in maintaining control over you was allowing you to have unsupervised educational rights. You began to craft a population that valued critical thought over blindly following direction from those in charge.

Yao’s eye twitches once more. The thought of having to contend with a [country name] intellectual, professor, or anyone who’s been through your unique but effective education system meant he had….

“General Wang!” You have a response to the contract that you sent to [country name] for review.

Yao was eager to see your response to a partnership deal that was riddled with a ton of underhanded loopholes he could take advantage of if you disobeyed him. He was able to sense the hesitation in the soldier's hand. It wanted to jerk back. To keep his eyes away from the offensive sight.

“Let me guess the Magpie didn’t want to nest and make a home in its beautifully gilded cage?” No trace of surprise in his monotone voice. Within the calm, there was a silent raging anger brewing beneath his skin.

‘How fucking dare you Y/N. Using me. Don't you know once in debt you’ll always be in debt?’

It takes him a couple of decades to even acknowledge that he has feelings for you. By the time he does, he’s already rescued your nation a few times. He knew he felt differently about you just he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Yao hoped that you’d be satisfied with having the illusion of freedom. You could pick your clothes, what you ate, what outings. That was enough for a while. After all, you did come from a [country name] where there was nothing but struggle and strife and hardly enough to get by. It was easy at first to satiate your population with feasts that had high-quality and fresh food. Dim Sum day and night accompanied by the best teas and wines.

Yao LOVED showing off his knowledge of tea, whether it be a strong black tea that kicked alive all of your senses or a green tea that relaxed you to sleep and gave you lovely dreams. Crafting food and drinks was one of his specialties. He put extra passion and flare when it came to making food for you. That and he is trying to show off. He didn’t always need military power or grand spectacles to captivate. Thats what he had developed his cooking skills for. He could prove that he was more than just a political stronghold…he had a gentle side too. Yao is going to make a spectacle while he cooks. He will do back flips as he makes your pan-fried dumplings or spruces up your rice. His heart flutters with joy whenever he sees you giggle. It was like getting a strong hit of opium. You’re his addiction, and he wasn’t going to give it up. He wanted to create reasons as to why you should always be around him. So if keeping you poor was a part of the game, he was willing to do so.

He’s not an idiot or blind to how you’d be in pain from him being ruthless in trying to keep you under his thumb. So he does give you some economic leverage and allow your people to concentrate solely on art. He adored it when you created masterpieces especially when they were exclusively for him. It was easy & it wouldn’t burst the delicate bubble of reality that he wanted to keep you trapped in. It prevented the both of you for a while from thinking about the future. Yao could once again see his and your nation become tied together and be content. However, that's a double-edged sword as it does eventually lead you to crave more.

Yao is going to create a cyclical conundrum for himself: Give you microdoses of freedom that slowly show you that you can be independent and happy while fighting the urge to want to take you over and never let you be free and see you sad. He still has to worry about you seeking susbatantial answers he’s not really ready to answer (if ever). He hoped to some degree that as an immortal nation, you’d come to be infantilized forever. But he could not pause progress.

“You’re 100% right sir. Y/N & [citizen name] didn’t really want to be beholden to you anymore. The parliament has decided to vote against your proposal. They seem determined to forage their own way.”

“Dammit Y/N why do you have to be incredibly headstrong!” He springs to his feet as soon as the anger rushed through his body.

“Why do you have to be so ungrateful? Why do you show no respect? How in the world can Y/N not see that I LOVE & just want to PROTECT you!”

“Well, sir I suppose it’s time to resort to less gentle tactics to make them concede.”

“Oh, my rebellious misguided magpie. What am I going to do with you? Looks like you’re going to do with you? Looks like you’re going to need a heavy dose of tough love.”

Yao snaps his finger for his soldier to come close.

“If they want to prod the dragon as it sleeps then I’ll let the people of [country name] find out how foolish that is.”

Yao is going to “peacefully” kidnap you meaning he will bribe who he can and kill whoever can’t be reasoned with money when it comes to your security detail. He’s going to make a show of it. It will start when you accidentally cut yourself with glass. It will begin at the sole of your foot. Birds will suddenly join your midst. A black and white feather will land in your small puddle of blood.

“More won’t have to be spilled Y/N if you just give in.”

Russia 🇷🇺

At first, Ivan will be lax & he won’t really acknowledge the things that you’re trying to do to separate from him. He’ll want to believe he’s downed too much vodka and cocktails. It’s nonsense. Nonsense. All of it. Since you’d been with him for so long & still in debt to him he believed that’s guarantee that you’d never leave him. At this point in his mind, he’s built the narrative that you stayed because you loved him.

“ I wish things didn’t have to be this way,” Ivan says coldly with his pipe in one hand and love letter in the other.

At the beginning of your relationship, when you and your people were down on your luck, he saw you as a feminine version of Latvia that he wanted to protect and bear hug 24/7.

“Let the loving, warm arms of Mother Russia help you.”

Ivan is eager to assist you & your impoverished people not only because he is fond of you but because you have beautiful tracks of land when it’s not being bombarded by drought and animals facing severe infection and plagues. It seemed for some reason that sunshine and prosperity had been avoiding you like finding a cure to heal your cattle.

“Hmm? Ummm…” Were the only words that you could summon. You were shocked that one of the superpowers would come over to chit-chat with you. To some degree you knew you were hardly a faint blip on most nations radar.

“Y/N you’re cute when you behave like a nervous kitten.” He placed his gloved bear paw on top of your head. When he did so you could finally take stalk of how much taller he was than you. At least a foot and a few inches. Your muscles soon tensed up and intimidation along with a host of other emotions suddenly flooded your nervous system.

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I guess. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately you know?” Nervous still you began to involuntarily shake. You could tell if it was caused by your nerves or hunger. Being in his presence was intense. You bite down on your lip hoping there was at least some decent food when you got back to your room like your boss had promised. Your facade of keeping it together without collapsing seemed like an impossible task.

“Stress? What kind of stress? Tell me da? We are friends now after all aren’t we?” His pure periwinkle eyes sparkled with glitter with hints of black specks within them.

“Huh? I mean we’ve been on a few committees and have been in a few voting blocks together, but it’s …” You knew you had to be careful with your choice of words. One wrong one and you knew he could crush you in one quick motion only using his wrist.

You hardly had the energy to stand. You began to wobble. You became woozy.

“Come. Y/N. Come. You must sit sunflower. You look pale & weak.”

You were definitely going to ignore his emphasis on the word ‘weak’. You kept it as a mental note in the back of your head.

‘He’s being a bit suspicious and creepy. I wonder if he’s about to offer…’

“About to make you a kind offer you won’t forget.”

‘Is he!? No. NO. I’m definitely going loopy due to hunger.’ You were trying to concoct a response that was equal parts composed, resilient, and calm. However, that process was cut short when a grey, black, and white static filled your eyes. Rendering you incapable of seeming like a nation that had their shit together. Quite the opposite. With no response, Russia will take the lead. He placed his hand on your upper back. He took note of how your palms and fingers were spread apart wide in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Your eyes were glazed over with an exhausted grey mist.

He chuckles in amusement.

‘Man, this is going to be easy.’

It took a few minutes before your haze finally lifted. However, it felt like your soul had left your body and you were just an empty husk running on fumes.

“Um, this is really a conversation for a later time…” Unable to think of ways to navigate a negotiation with a massive country like Russia. You could at least buy yourself some time and try to talk to someone for advice. You know that it seemed benevolent but had plenty of tight ropes, strings, and red lines that come attached with such a deal.

“After the meeting, we can talk it out over dinner. I can show you some of my nation's best food.” His aura brightened at the fact that you’d be more within his domain and far deeper within his influence.

Russia, at this point, is kinda like a honey trap. He learned this tactic from his friend (enemy at times) America. Knowing how to be a smooth charmer even though he tends to have an unsettling presence that has chaotic energy with a baby face. He incorporates but doesn’t copy America. Russia tends to lean on his disarming soft face to help him and instead of offering punishments first, he’s more likely to offer an insensitive with maybe a threat at the end. (This only tends to happen if he can’t see that you’re responding positively to what’s being offered.) So Russia knows how to show more restraint.

Of course, you didn’t say no to the private meeting you had with him. Your boss practically begged you to do so, along with some of your citizens and advisers.

“How can we say no? You have to Y/N! What do we have to lose at this point?”An advisor stated with urgency.

“We can figure it out as we go but we must do something! This is a sign this is it!” Another citizen piped up.

“All right, all right I’ll go.”

Ivan will introduce you to this five-point plan that he drafted. It will be showcased through Matryoshka Doll. The five stages will explain how you will become one with Mother Russia without losing your recognizable national heritage.

‘Don’t worry’ is what he’ll assure you. He’s got all the heavy lifting. Just allow him to set the pace and control everything.

Ivan won’t immediately snap you up like a Venus fly trap. He knows that he has to manage you and all of your people, constituents, and other parties. He’ll let all settle in before he begins to move any plan forward.

Ivan’s scarf had wrapped around your shoulders as he brought out a Matryoshka doll that was about the size of your thumb.

“You will receive a new one once you complete a new phase. It shows how close friends we’ve become.”

Your eyes wander down to the bright red hooded figure that is decorated with Ivy and Azalea flowers. You ran your index finger down the smooth surface. You admired the intermixing of the pastels with the primary colors. The florals seemed to string themselves together like a fence that had cursive graffiti on it. In the back of your mind, you still couldn’t help but feel that you were making a huge mistake even if on the surface, things between you and Ivan would be smooth.

“We first have to ensure that your citizens are able to eat, have proper housing, and all of their other basic needs are met. You’ll have to live with me of course.”

‘Maybe, I’m just overthinking it. After all what choice do I really have? It’s not like I’ve been able to survive to well on my own.’

Your thumb continued to rub the fresh paint. The Azalea flowers encapsulated and sustained you. They were lovely because they represented the current concealed love. The colors made you feel safe and comforting. The coolness of the wood brought goosebumps to your skin. Your immune system was trying to send warning signs but you continued to ignore them for the idea that permanent comfort wasn’t too far off. The suffering was beginning to be too much to tolerate daily.

Ivan will make sure that you’re comfortable in his house. He’ll allow you to go see your nation every 4 months or so. The rest of the time will be you learning proper Russian, the culture, history, etc.

As you began to adjust to life with him, you enjoyed not having to face hardships. It was nice not to have to worry about where your next meal was to come from or how some of your particularly vulnerable cities managed to survive with minimal resources. These questions were no longer at the forefront of your mind. You allowed the sweet side of life to dull your senses.

The next part of Ivan’s five-point plan involves him having full jurisdiction of your military bases, ports, secret hubs, etc. He didn’t want you or your population getting into battle.

Ivan’s log-like arm was draped over you, and he introduced you to some of his seasoned commanders who’d be taking over all of your military operations. As you trailed behind him through the Russian-built base, you were in awe of the immense firepower he possessed and was lending to you. It was a not-so-subtle reminder of how much you now depended on him. It was the first time that you realized that you entered an inescapable pact that you made with Ivan. Your mind had finally registered the second doll with the Camellia flowers had been firmly sealed around you as it was tossed into the sea.

A firm squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality. Ivan’s sweet and somewhat sinister smile that adorned his pale snow face reassured you that everything would be fine so long as you were in his care.

If you want to escape him with the least emotional and economic damage and the lowest detriment to your citizens, then you really should have prevented him from setting up any kind of military infrastructure. So he now has a strategic advantage if (and or when) you try to separate from him.

As a nuclear power he of course, never let you have a program for energy much less for weapons. If you ever asked about such things ice and snow will coat the room while his face will have the everpresent smile remaining on Ivan’s face. His icicle-like ‘why’ was more than enough for you to never bring the subject up with him again.

The comfort began to feel more like constriction….suffocation. The air around you felt like you were in the vacuum of space.

The final matryoshka doll is decorated with cedar leaves (I will live for thee), Yellow Hyacinths (Jelously), Ivy (Wedded Love), and Primrose (I cannot live without you). It was handed to you right before the two of you began another tense meeting on why you’re trying to become more independent.

“I will not be without you Y/N nation of [insert most recognized attribute]”

“Hmmm?” Trying to make sure you didn’t just hear that highly possessive statement. Trying to give Ivan a chance to walk that back. After a minute of uncomfortable silence, you break it.

“Ivan, are you okay?” Your voice trembles out.

“Da Y/N….But we do have some difficult discussions to be had.” He closed his book with a loud thud, it was loud enough to make you jump in your seat a little.

At this point, it’s game over. Whatever well-thought-out plan you may have made to be independent of him may as well be strapped to a rocket being sent to the moon. If you want to be successful, you’d need another superpower backing you or extremely good socioeconomic conditions and political unrest in Russia to actually be able to win against him.

[pamgkrthwrites]

Captive Consort Chapter 1 - Blood of War and Rings

Warning, the following content is for an 18+ audience. If you are under the age of 18 do not read the content below. Warning, the following content has disturbing/triggering themes such as; Yandere, Arrange(Political) Marriage, Religious/Cultural Differences, Imperial Harems, Self Harm for Religious Practices. I do not support or encourage these themes or actions, they are merely written fictional events for entertainment. The character(s) depicted within this post are over the age of 19. (This list may get updated with each new Chapter Update)

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Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Bakugou x Female Reader

Additional Pairings: Iida x Ochako, Kirishima x Mina, Mitsuki x Masaru, Mitsuki x Inko

Themes: Fantasy AU, Arrange Marriage, Political Marriage, Cultural/Religious Differences, Yandere, Greek Inspired Reader, Imperialism

Summary: Your country has been at war with the Barbarians for almost a year, and the Barbarian Prince, Katsuki Bakugou, has requested a peace treaty. Problem is, he is demanding either a large sum of money that your country can not provide, or you as his bride. You're from a culture inspired from Ancient Greece, while Bakugou is from a culture inspired by Imperial Japan, Imperial Russia, and Vikings, so there are are going to be a more than a few issues that arise from this and how people treat you differently.

A/N: I literally have an assignment due to tomorrow but no I spent MY ENTIRE WEEK writing this. I might be mentally unwell......... ANYWAY Hello hello. This is probably the LONGEST thing I have ever written for one chapter. Be prepared for Melissa Slander.

Word count: 10k+

"Father, you can’t seriously be considering marrying me off to that barbarian prince?!” You stood before your father in disbelief.

He couldn’t actually be considering this proposal, right?

Your father sat at his desk, the treaty paper in his hands. “He says he’ll stop the war if our nation gives him money that we do not have, or marry off one of The Nine Shachou Member’s daughters of marrying age. Unfortunately, you’re the only one who is of marrying age and has yet to be married.”

“But father-!”

Your father slammed his hand on the table as he stood up before shouting at you. “You will do as I say, child! We cannot afford to continue this war with the barbarians! Let alone with the rest of their savage continent! At least this way, we have a way of controlling them!”

You bit your lower lip, trying not to cry. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

You are merely an object to be traded for these monsters.

“You’ll be shipped over on one of our boats. I’ve been told it’ll take thirty days for you to reach their continent if everything goes smoothly.” Your father said as he sat back down. “You’re just going to have to deal with this, child.”

You gripped the side of your dress. “When do I leave?”

“We will be sending our response to those barbarians at first light tomorrow. It is already written up.”

That wasn’t an answer to your question. “Am I taking anyone with me?”

“That depends on the prince’s response. He may not allow you to go with any maids or guards.”

You were silent as you looked down at the floor. 

“I recommend you pray to the gods while you still can, child.” Your father told you. “Also bring miniature statues of them as well. That continent of savages worship different gods to us. I will pray to Soteria to protect you.”

You clutched the beads around your neck, each of them symbolising one of your many gods.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a week had passed, you were instead shipped by carriage with your father to meet with the prince and his men at their camp.

Your mouth smeared up when you noticed the wet mud before your feet.

“Fourth Shachou,” You heard a gruff voice with a thick accent say. “We hope your journey was safe.”

You turned to see a green haired man with freckles on his cheeks. He stood at one hundred and eighty-three centimetres tall and had green eyes. He didn’t wear typical clothing you saw of the barbarians, but you could still see it was from their continent, but with the skin that was showing you saw a large amount of scars. All differing in lengths and widths.

Your father gruffed as he left the carriage and walked over to the young man. “I see you know our tongue.”

The green-haired man kept a smile on his face. “We speak the same language, Fourth Shachou.”

You got down from the carriage, holding the skirt of your dress up to avoid it being dirtied from the mud. The green-haired boy looked towards you and scanned your face. 

“This is my daughter.” Your father put his hand on your back as he said your name, pushing you forward.

“I am Midoriya Izuku.” The green-haired man introduced himself. “I am childhood friends of the Barbarian Dragon Tribe Prince, Bakugou Katsuki.”

“Dragon Tribe?” Your father repeated. “I thought there was only one group of those barbarians.”

“Be careful of your tone, Fourth Shachou.” Midoriya warned before answering your father’s question. “Back in times of old, there were many Barbarian tribes. With the rise of the Demon Lord a hundred years ago, the tribes were either wiped out or forced to merge together to be stronger in numbers. The Dragon Tribe is a result of Humans Barbarians and Dragon Shifters Barbarians merging into one Tribe. They are currently considered to be the largest Barbarian Tribe throughout all of known history of Nihon. They continue to use the name of The Barbarian Dragon Tribe to remember their fallen brothers and sisters.”

Yourself and your father watched as Midoriya went on a ramble of Barbarian history. Once Midoriya was done, he looked at you two and noticed how you had both reacted to him. He blushed lightly.

“Sorry- Didn’t mean to ramble.” He quickly pushed out of his mouth. 

“And what is your relationship with the Tribe, boy?” Your father asked. “To our understanding, they don’t let outsiders into their tribes easily.”

Midoriya seemed taken aback by your father’s statement. “They don’t typically like those from outside of Nihon to join the tribe. You might be mistaking the actions of the tribe to Kacchan. Kacchan is very standoffish to even meeting those outside of the tribe.”

“And who is this Kacchan?”

“Oh- Sorry, I mean Prince Bakugou.” Midoriya said offhandedly. “Kacchan was the nickname I gave him when we were children.”

Your father scoffed.

Midoriya looked at you. “If you are ready, I can take you to go meet him-”

“Women of Girisha are not permitted to speak to men without permission of their father or husbands, let alone walk off somewhere private with a man who is a stranger to her or her family.” Your father glared at Midoriya. 

Midoriya paused, looking up at your father with a look in his eye. His lips were in a line and his eyebrows were knitted.

A smile quickly painted his face, but it was no longer the smile from before. “Yes, my apologies. I had forgotten that was a custom for your people. I simply wanted to ask if she was ready to meet with the Prince.”

Your father replied. “I will be needing to discuss the travel arrangements with him.” As if that was an answer to the question.

You saw the strain on Midoriya’s face. “Of course. Follow me then.”

Midoriya turned and started to lead you two to a large tent, the tarp fabric being a red copper colour. On the ‘door’ to the tent had a symbol on it. The centre of it had a symbol of the first number. To the sides of the character were simplified wings, which met at a base before the numbered character. The symbol was painted on the tarp with a black ink.

Midoriya raised a hand as he got to the door. “Please wait here for a moment.” He said to the two of you before heading instead to the tent himself.

Leaving your father and you standing in the mud.

Your father sneered. “This place is a pigsty. It’s muddy, it smells, and none of the people here smell as if they have bathed.”

You looked down at your shoes, grimacing how they were dirty now. You wondered if your own nation’s army camps looked like this too. It’s not like you would ever know, women weren’t allowed near the army camps.

The tarp opened, seeing Midoriya’s smile. “You can come in now, Fourth Shachou.”

You followed in after your father. You bowed your head as you curtsied while your father merely bowed his head.

“Greetings, Prince Bakugou Katsuki. I am the Fourth of Nine Shachou Member,” Your father introduced himself, stating his name and family name. “As we agreed to in the peace treaty agreement, my daughter.”

You stood back up straight, introducing yourself by name to a man with wheat ash blonde hair and crimson red eyes. He was slouching in a chair, but if he stood up he would easily be one hundred and ninety-six centimetres tall. He had broad shoulders, with a tattoo that matched the symbol on the tent door. He wore a teal crop top that was laced up at the front, an orange sleeve with black patterning starting at his wrist to his mid upper arm, navy denim pants, a red coat with fur coating the neck line, high-low fur skirt that was held up by a dark brown belt, knee high grey boots, and leather armour on his knees and shoulders.

The man was staring at you, his eyes glued to your face and refusing to look away from your face. His finger tapped on his face, as if calculating something.

“I wanted to discuss-” 

“When did I allow you to speak?!” The blonde’s voice was loud, his attention now brought to your father. His glare would throw knives if they could. When your father wasn’t responsive, the prince let out a grunt, pushing his hand down his face. “Make it short.”

Your father hesitated before he spoke. “We have yet to discuss how my daughter will be transported and when the wedding will happen.”

“It’s happening tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?”

A cough came from a man who stood at one hundred and ninety centimetres tall with red hair and ruby red eyes. “His Majesty means the two will be flying there by dragon’s back today, which will allow the wedding to happen tomorrow evening. Traditionally, Barbarian weddings happen at sunset.”

Your father let out a nervous chuckle. “I see you are eager to end this war.”

“I’m eager for my old hag of a mother, the Empress, to stop sending me letters about her almost twenty-one year old son not coming back home.” The blonde corrected.

Your father suppressed a smile by gripping his own hand tightly that his nails dug into his palms. 

The beast of the East is easily controlled by the dominant woman in his life.

“Unless you want to transfer ownership of your daughter now and we get flying this second and have a late evening wedding?” The prince asked with a smug smirk.

Your father paused. “Ownership?”

“That’s how your people treat their women, right? They need permission to speak, which implies ownership over them.”

“I… Guess that is one way of interpreting our customs.” Your father grimenced. “I will permit her to travel to your continent for tomorrow's services. I expect that she will be housed within a separate room.”

“Of course.” The princes said with a smug expression. “I will get one of our axe-maidens to look after her.”

“I’m sorry, an axe-maiden?” Your father questioned. 

“Yes, a woman trained in wielding a battle axe.” The red head explained with a smile. “They start training when they are virgins sure, but they don’t have to stay forever to be an axe maiden.”

The prince looked over his shoulder, giving the red head a look. The red head looked away quickly.

Your father scoffed. “Of course. That will be permitted. Where should we place my daughter’s luggage?”

The prince paused for a moment before making a hand movement to Midoriya. “Tell them to put the luggage with Raccoon eyes’ luggage. We’ll fly separately.”

“Of course, Kacchan.” Midoriya smiled at the prince before walking out of the tent.

Once Midoriya had left the tent, the prince looked back at your father. “Better, Forth Shachou?”

“Will my daughter be permitted to send and receive letters?” Your father asked.

The prince’s lower eyelid twitches. “Yes, she will be able to send and receive. How long it will take will depend on the ocean.”

Silence grew between the two men as they glared at each other. You turned to look at your father’s face, seeing a frustrated expression.

You wanted to ask what it meant, but the expression on your father’s face gave you the answer already.

No.

“Kirishima,” The blonde looked at the red head. “Get your wife, and tell her she’ll be taking care of my betrothed.”

The red head nodded before walking past to leave the tent.

“We use the word intended.” Your father told the prince.

“Fortunately for me then that your daughter will be married to me. Therefore, she will be married in my culture and its beliefs.”

“Does that include your nation’s gods?”

The prince was silent. “I will not be forcing a belief system onto your daughter. She will be free to believe and practise her own beliefs as she wishes. At most, she will be asked to watch one of our rituals.”

“Very well.” Your father looked down at you then the prince. “Should I leave you two betrotheds alone?”

The prince lifted his head off his hand by about 2 inches. He stared at your father, searching to see for any ill intent before his eyes landed back on you. His eyes almost dug holes deep into your skin.

The prince breathed in through his nose. “...That is acceptable.”

Your father smirked to himself.

Weak men can easily be controlled by a woman’s influence.

Your father bowed his head before turning his back to the prince. He leaned close to you and spoke. “Behave.” Your father walked past you, leaning you alone with the prince.

The prince kept his eyes on you as he stood up. His steps towards you were slow, stopping when he was thirty centimetres between you two. His eyes were glued to you, soaking in your inner being. He took a breath in through his nose.

Was he smelling you?

“On Nihon, we address each other by our family names or titles unless we are close.” He told you. “Because we soon will be having the same last name, would it be alright if I called you by your given name?”

You slowly nodded your head, hesitating to speak. “That’s fine.”

“Would it also be alright if you called me Katsuki?”

“I can do that.”

He nodded, non-verbally communicating to you that he understood.

His eyes fell from your face and to the bead around your neck. He slowly pulled his hand to the beads and gently held onto them, tilted them to get a better look.

“What are these for?”

“Each bead represents one of our gods.” You told him as your hands went to one the beads. “This one is for our Goddess Soteria, a Spirit Goddess of Safety, Salvation, and Protection from harm.”

Katsuki was quiet as he let go of the beads. “Do you pray to her often?”

“Yes, she is my family's patron god.” You let go of the bead, your eyes landing on his necklaces around his neck. “Do yours also represent your gods?”

Katsuki looked down at his beads. “No, nothing religious. These are traditional cultural practices my family does. Each loop represents an event in our lives. The orange ones represent my birth, the red ones represent when I first used my magic, and the claw looking one represents my warrior spirit at the first religious hunt that we do.”

You gently held onto the necklace that was longer than the rest but had very little beads. “And what does this one represent?”

He watched you carefully, looking down at the three beads on that chain. 

“... An event that happened during the summer after my sixteenth birthday.”

He’s being vague for a reason. Best to drop the subject.

You dropped the beads and the subject.

“Bakugou I heard you wanted to-!” A feminine voice boomed into the tent.

Katsuki’s head lifted from looking at you, now glaring at whoever walked into the tent. You saw how his mouth went into a scroll and how his cheek twitched.

You turned your head, seeing a woman with light pink skin, messy pink hair, yellow horns, black sclera, yellow iris and stood at one hundred and seventy-five centimetres tall. Her mouth was shut and small as she sweat bullets upon seeing Katsuki’s face.

“Sorry, was this a bad time?” She asked.

Katsuki snarls his upper canines at the woman. He shuts his eyes and takes in a deep breath through his nose. Katsuki addresses you by your first name. “This is Kirishima Mina. She’ll be escorting and protecting you and who you will be travelling with to Nihon.”

Mina looked up at the prince, having a silent conversation before turning to you. She suddenly rushed towards you and held your hands in her own. “It’s nice to finally meet you! I’m Kirishima Mina! You can just call me Mina so you don’t get me confused with my husband.”

You were a bit startled by her forwardedness, trying to take a step back. Your back bumped into the prince’s chest, making you step forward towards Mina.

Mina leaned to the side and looked up at the Prince. “What’s first on the agenda today, boss?”

“You’re flying her to meet the Empress.” The prince replied. “The old hag will take care of everything until the wedding tomorrow.”

“Sorry- The wedding is tomorrow?!” Mina stared at the prince before looking at you. “Oh goodness! We don’t have the time!” She looked back at the Prince. “Wait until your mother hears about this!”

“Yeah yeah.” The prince gruffed. “Just make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.”

“Right on it!” Mina smiled as she held onto your arm and started to guide you out of the tent. You noticed a few of the barbarians’ eyes on you once you left the tent, noticing your father’s eyes were not one of them.

The girl that was all pink guided you to an area that had bags of luggage, some of yours was mixed into that. There you saw Midoriya and the red haired man who you were pretty sure was called Kirishima.

Kirishima saw Mina, a side smile quickly forming on his face. “Mina! You came back quickly!”

“You could’ve told me the wedding was tomorrow!” Mina whined to her husband. 

Midoriya chuckled. “I’ve never seen Kacchan this eager to hurry something up.”

“He often complains that a rushed job isn’t a good one.” Kirishima sighed. “Yet all he has wanted to do regarding this is get it rushed.”

Mina turned to you with a smile. “I’m going to shift and these two are going to load our luggage onto me. This might take some time so try to find a comfortable place to sit.”

You were a bit confused in what Mina meant by that until smoke started to emit from her skin. A sudden cloud of smoke was around her body up to four times of her normal height. Once the smoke cleared, a pink Wyvern Dragon that had a yellow shine to its scales stood at  four times her normal height. She now stood at over seven metres tall, and that's when you didn’t count her yellow horns.

Kirishima sniffled, having a large smile on his face. “My wife's dragon form is so pretty, doesn’t she?” He asked you.

Kirishima stared at you, his smile going slightly flat when he noticed you weren’t responding.

“Oh, right.” Midoriya tapped Kirishima’s shoulder. “The custom for Girisha Women are that they have to have permission from their father or husband to speak to other men.”

Kirishima seemed shocked by this news. “But, didn’t-?”

A whine came from the big dragon, making Kirishima bring his attention back to her. He chuckled and started to move. 

“Sorry my love.” He told her. “I’ll start loading stuff on.”

You watched as the Dragon form Mina laid on her stomach as Kirishima put on a harness on her. It allowed one to sit in the centre of a circle but also allowed luggage to be strapped to the sides.

Midoirya tapped your shoulder, giving you a smile. “I know you can’t respond, but I do need to warn you that the flight from here to the capital will be over seventeen hours long. Mina should be able to push herself to fly the enter time, but you should sleep when night falls. Kacchan will be a couple of hours behind you.”

You simply nodded your head before turning back to watch Mina and Kirishima communicate somehow as they loaded everything up. You could only understand Kirishima’s end of the conversation, and it just sounded like banter.

You heard your name being called, and when you turned you saw your father. “Come here child, I wish to speak with you.”

As you walked away from Mina, Midoriya and Kirishima, Midoriya watched as you obeyed your father. They exchanged a look between each other. Mina’s dragon form let out a found, and in response Kirishima rubbed his hand along her body.

Once you were close to your father, he spoke to you in a hushed voice. “What did the prince talk to you about?”

“He asked if we could call each other by our given names, and then about our necklaces.” You answered your father, your hand going to the beads around your neck and starting to fiddle with them.

Your father had a smug expression on his face. “Really? Seems like the barbarian prince is weak to the woman around him.”

You pressed your lips together, thinking about how Katsuki reacted to Mina rushing into the tent. Though it was always possible he was just angry that the conversation was interrupted. 

Best to remember to not accidentally cut him off or interrupt him in the future.

“What do they plan to do with you now?” Your father’s voice cut through your line of thought.

“The Prince wants to send me over to Nihon as soon as possible. I’ll be leaving as soon as they finish packing my belongings onto the dragon shifter.”

Your father raised an eyebrow at you before looking at the pink dragon behind you. “I can’t believe they refused to ship you via boat because of possible sea monsters, and yet will happily throw you into the sky.”

You really doubted they made that decision because of safety concerns. They probably made that call because the war would only be considered postponed until the wedding happened. 

Maybe they were worried you would withdraw your consent to get married to The Prince?

Maybe that explained why he seemed kind with you alone in the tent.

Once the wedding happens though, I doubt he’ll keep up that act for long.

“Try to become close with The Prince.” Your father told you with a hushed voice. “Make him loyal to you and only you.”

You hesitated before nodding your head to your father. “I’ll write to you once I’ve settled in.”

Your father nodded his head. “Do try to be safe, child. We don’t have much information on their way of life, so we have no idea of the world you're about to be thrusted into.”

“Fourth Shachou,” A voice spoke. “I do hope you aren’t being rude about the people who will be taking care of your daughter.”

You both turned to see Katsuki there, his eyebrows knitted as he glared at your father. You noticed how he was slightly slouching. His eyes only darted to you for a moment though quickly went back onto your father to glare at him.

“Of course not, Prince Bakugou Katsuki.” Your father told him. “I am merely telling my daughter to be safe is all.”

“Oh really?” Katsuki raised an eyebrow at your father. “And how would you recommend your daughter to stay safe in a foreign land, Fourth Shachou? By staying in her room all day?” Katsuki turned his head slightly to Midoriya. “Is that not what we saw happening in some of the estates? They had locked their daughters and wives in a room?”

As Midoriya stuttered out of agreement, you remembered a lesson you were taught while growing up.

If a city is under siege, it is best to lock women in a hidden room for their protection.

You bit the inside of your mouth, one of your hands gripping your arm. If you did end up having to be locked in a room, wouldn’t that just mean you weren’t safe? 

“I simply don’t want my daughter to be victimised while under your care.”

“She won’t be.” Katsuki glared at your father. “No one who has ever been under my care has gotten hurt, and considering your daughter is to become my wife, I’ll be putting extra effort into it.”

“We’ll have to see how successful that is.” Your father snarked back.

Your father and Katsuki glared at each other. Midoirya came from the side, soft smiling at you. “It’s time to leave now, miss. I’ll help you-”

“No you won’t, Deku.” Katsuki turned, glaring at Midoriya. 

Katsuki stomped over to where Mina was. You tried to follow closely. Whatever this atmosphere was, you did not want to find out.

Once Katsuki got close to Mina, he gently grabbed hold of your waist and lifted you up. He let you lean on him as you climbed up onto Mina’s back and into the saddle. You heard your father start to complain to Katsuki about how to handle you properly. You elected to ignore it for now, trying to sit comfortable on the cushions that seemed to be strapped down to the saddle.

“How about you say your goodbyes to your daughter instead of correcting me!” You heard Katsuki’s voice boom aggressively as he addressed your father. “Considering this may be the last time you see her, I suggest you make it a kind goodbye.”

Last time?

Was Katsuki planning to get rid of you as soon as he could?

You looked over the edge of the saddle, seeing your father carefully approach.

You also noticed the glaring looks Katsuki, Midoriya, and Kirishima were giving you.

Of course, it all makes sense now. They are waiting for you to be alone and kill you. Of course they don’t like you and your father. Why did you think they would like you?

Your father called your name. “Just try to stay safe. Write to me about your progress there.”

You nodded your head, waving down at your father.

Mina stretched out her wings and jumped into the air, her wings starting to flap to keep her in the air. She started to ascend higher into the air before starting to fly through the sky, away from the war camp. She moved much faster than any boat or carriage you had been on.

You secured yourself as you felt your legs shake and shut your eyes.

Breathe, everything is going to be alright.

Just breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were woken up by a sudden landing, jolting you awake..

You were no longer in the air.

You sat up and rubbed your head, hearing people yell around you. You looked off the side of the saddle, seeing a woman who looked just like Katsuki yet shorter and wearing a crown on her head yell at staff around her. To her side was a man with brown hair and glasses, speaking very softly.

The woman looked up at you before smiling. “Good morning, young one. Would you like assistance getting down?”

You weakly nodded your head, rubbing your eyes and yawning.

She gave a laugh before yelling at someone to help you. Suddenly, a woman who appeared to be a witch of some kind floated up.

She had brown auburn hair that stopped at her shoulders except two side tufts that were a bit longer, brown hazel eyes, and hair skin that made her cheeks a soft pink colour. She was wearing a dark pink witches hat that had fake beige dragon horns, a vertically striped dress that ended at her mid thighs, black stockings, pink boots, and a green cape that was warmly wrapped around her neck and flowed down past her knees.

She smiled softly at you as she extended a hand out to you. “Grabbed hold of my hand and I’ll help you down.”

You looked down at the floor, wondering how the hell did Katsuki helped you up in the first place. You gently took her hand, and soon you felt your body become lighter. She was tugged down by someone in silver metal armour with a green cape coming from their armour. Once your feet touched the floor, she said ‘release’, which was followed by that light feeling going away.

The blonde woman walked towards you. You guessed this was Katsuki mother - and therefore The Empress - you bowed your head and curtsied before introducing yourself.

“Oh no need to do that, young one.” She chuckled, helping you up. “We will be family by day’s end. I am The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Mitsuki, and this is my husband. Consort of The Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Masaru.”

As you bowed your head to Masaru, you noticed the witch float up again and started to float down the luggage. “It is nice to meet you, Empress’ Consort Masaru.”

He smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, young lady. If I may ask, how old are you?”

“Nineteen, sir.”

“Hmm… And when is your birthday?”

You answered his question.

“So you were eighteen when the war started I see. Regardless, it seems like we will have to change the wine out for some grape juice.”

You blinked out of confusion. “Sorry?”

The Empress spoke. “At Barbarian Weddings, we have a cup the couple drinks out of. The couple must cut their hands and spill some blood into the cup before they drink from it. We see this as a form of physically connecting the two bodies together. The wine we use simply covers up the taste of the blood.”

“Why does the wine need to be switched to grape juice though?” You asked.

“The drinking age is twenty.” The Empress answered.

“I understand. Back home, our drinking age is eighteen for women, sixteen for men..”

“... Really? That’s interesting.” The Empress had forced a smile when she replied to you.

Masaru quickly spoke to try and heal any offence his wife might’ve offered you. “What do your people traditionally do during their weddings?”

“We drink wine to connect with the gods before cutting our hands and spill blood on the Goddess of Marriage, Hera’s statue so she can tie our fates together.” You informed them. “If a divorce were to happen, the statue would be broken.”

The two were silent, their mouths closed as they looked at you.

“It’s alright,” You told them. “I won’t expect The Prince to participate in my religious’ practices. I am marrying into his culture, not the other way round.”

The two seemed shocked by either your wording or what you had said, but before they could say anything, the witch had said the words ‘release’ once more.

You turned and saw all the luggage had been neatly placed on the ground. The witch started to float up again and take off the saddle that was around Mina. 

The Empress turned her attention back to you before speaking. “We don’t believe in divorce. The only way to separate from one’s spouse for us is through death.”

The knight - that had been standing off to the side for a short while - took off his helmet as you saw a man with dark blue hair and rose red petal eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” He bowed his head to The Empress. “Shall I start to transport the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed’s luggage to her room?”

Does that mean you and Katsuki won’t be sharing a room?

“That would be lovely, thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “If you run into Miss Yaoyorozu or Miss Jiro, could you ask them to come see me please?”

“Of course,  Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki!” He bowed his head before picking up a few bags of your luggage before running off so far there was a strong gust of wind and a dust trail behind him.”

You watched as the dust trail faded away.

Did he really just address her by her full title? Twice? Were you expected to do that?

You heard a thump sound, and upon turning your head you saw the saddle had come clean off of Mina’s back. Smoke appeared around the Dragon form of Mina, and soon the more human looking form of her appeared.

Mina stretched her back, followed by some popping or cracking sounds coming from her back. She let out a sigh as she relaxed her shoulders, yawning.

The witch softly laughed. “Long night, Mina?”

“I want to have a nap so bad, girl.” She whined.

The Empressed called you by your name before gesturing to the witch. “This is Iida’s wife, Ochaco. She’ll be looking after you while you get ready for today and while Mina is resting.”

“No it’s fine, I can deal with it.” Mina yawned.

“Mina, you should rest.” Ochaco rubbed Mina’s back. “Once Eijiro gets here, I’ll send him your way.”

Iida returned back, grabbing more bags then running off again.

He was gone for maybe twenty-five seconds and he came back for more bags already? How fast is he?

And why was no one else reacting to what was happening?

There were rumours of the Island of Nihon having a high percentage of magical powers, but you weren’t expecting to see two - three if you counted Mina - people using their magical powers so openly.

Mina yawned, nodding her head and bowing her head to the Empress. “I hope everything goes well before The Prince gets here, Your Majesty.”

The Empress smiled. “Thank you for your kind words, Mina. Now go rest. I’m sure Katsuki would be thrilled to see you at the wedding.”

Mina sighed before picking up her bags, putting two on her bag and carrying two under her arms. She smiled at you kindly, her gaze upon you being soft. “Try not to stress out before the wedding, okay?” She told you as she started to walk away.

“Now, let's get you inside.” The Empress smiled at you. She turned and started to walk towards the large palace. The columns on the building were a light grey, almost matching the mountains behind the palace. The outside wall itself was a soft green with painted gold on. “This is the Winter Palace, and those mountains behind it are what we call the Dragon Range. It’s believed to be the original birthplace of our Dragon God. The Dragon Range takes up roughly sixty percent of our land. There is a massive tunnel system within the mountains where our dragon shifter brothers and sisters keep their hoards.”

Iida returned, stopping before the Empress. He bowed his head. “Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki, I have put the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed belongings in their room. I have also found Miss Yaoyorozu and have informed her of your request to meet you. She said she will be meeting you along the way in escorting the Barbarian Prince Bakugou Katsuki’s betrothed.”

“Thank you, Iida.” She smiled at him. “Make sure the Todoroki Family is playing nice today, please?”

“Of course, Barbarian Empress of The Dragon Tribe Bakugou Mitsuki.” Iida bowed before running off again, this time in a different direction.

Once the dust settled, the Empress turned to you. “He may be the most responsible and reliable out of the original group that went to go fight the Demon lord a few years ago, but he is too formal at times I fear there is a stick up his arse.” She softly laughed before turning to Ochaco. “No offence, Mrs Iida.”

Ochaco smiled at the Empress. “It’s alright, your Majesty. Tenya has his own charm on how to do things.”

Once you four had climbed up the steps, the Empress and her consort looked out to the view. You turned, and saw a beautiful view of the land below the mountains being a wide open green land before meeting the ocean. You saw in the distance on both sides, land curving inward on itself, revealing the landmass continent of Nihon was an earthy atoll. In the distance, you saw the headlands of the atoll - which were often referred to as the Heaven’s Gates within the rare texts your nation had on Nihon.

“Those green pastures down there are the rest of our Empire.” The Empress told you. “It’s where all the human barbarians used to live before the rise of the Demon Lord. And the water mass from our coast to the headlands is known as the Ocean's Heart. We believe the landmass that houses the god’s came from that section of Nihon.”

“It’s rather beautiful.” You said softly. 

“Yes, it is.” The Empress hummed. She suddenly slapped her hands together, startling you. “We must start getting you ready. We have a big day ahead of us!”

The Empress started to walk inside, expecting the rest of you to follow.

“There are five sections of the palace. Front, Back, Courtyard, Left Wing and Right Wing. This is the Front of the Palace, the entryway. Everything staff related is located to the Left Wing and therefore, the corner connecting the Front and Left Wing is the ball room. Everything the Imperial Family does is on the Right Wing, therefore the corner connecting the Front and Right Wing is the Library. The Back is where all the apartments are. The Back Right Wing Corner is the Emperor or Empress’ apartment and the Back Left Wing Corner is the Heir’s apartment. The rest of the apartments are often used as Guest rooms if the Imperial Couple does only have one child.  The courtyard is at the centre of the enter Palace. Following?”

You nodded your head. You were a little lost but you understood enough to somewhat follow along.

The Empress’ Consort seemed to read what was on your face before gently patting your shoulder and smiling. “We’ll offer you a map so you don’t get lost.”

The Empress continued. “There is a guest garden which is accessible on the Left Wing and a private garden which is accessible on the Back. Overall, there are over one thousand and five hundred rooms.” The Empress continued as the group entered into the courtyard. “There are three levels. Ground level is the only level guests have access to, even if they are in a guest room it’s on the ground floor. Servants and Guards have access to all floors, but their main walkways are on the top floor. The middle floor is where the Imperial Family operates.”

… You were so lost.

“The Prince will help you if you need any help.” Ochaco smiled at you. 

“One can only pray.” The Empress groaned, rubbing between her eyebrows. She then switched to muttering in a language you were not familiar with. It was harsh on the throat.

Masaru responded in the same language, but how the pronunciation sounded was different. His words sounded softer, still rich consonants but his vowels were softer.

She groaned. She turned to you. “If my son gives you any trouble, please do let me know. I don’t want him to be a burden on his first wife.”

First wife?

Ochaco then spoke to you to answer your unspoken question. “Barbarian Law states those of the direct line of the imperial family are allowed to have up to nine spouses. First spouse is Consort, second to ninth spouses are concubines. This is to make sure the Imperial Line can continue via blood.”

“Though filling all eight concubines spots hasn’t been done in four generations, and even then that Emperor used his eight concubines as secret guards.” The Empress spoke. “And on top of that, the Imperial crown can be passed down by mentorship or by battle. I was passed the Crown via winning a battle to the death against the previous Emperor who got the crown via mentorship. We believe only the strongest can rule the Barbarians.”

So your safety isn’t secure, is it?

“I doubt the Prince would take in a second spouse.” Ochaco tried to reassure you. “I don’t think he’s the type to deal with the politics that come with having multiple spouses.”

You looked at the plant life you were walking past, getting closer to the other end of the palace. You hesitated before speaking. “If I may ask, Empress, how did you meet your consort?”

“He was my dress maker.” The Empress answered truthfully.

Oh.

“How many concubines do you have?” You asked carefully.

The Empress continued to smile. “Only one.”

The rest of the walk was rather silent, The Empress and Consort leading you to the apartment section of the Palace. Surprising to you though, they guided you into your apartment section through the ground floor.

Once inside the apartment, you noticed how there were stairs leading up to the middle floor. The ground floor seemed more of a hosting room more than anything. There was a study that looked dusty, a weapons room with many weapons missing, a dining room, and two more additional hosting rooms. One that looked like it was already claimed by the Prince, and a second that had nothing in it for now.

It looked rather dusty, uncared for.

“I’ll make sure Katsuki takes you to the storage room tomorrow so you can pick out some furniture you’d like to decorate this space with.” Masaru said to you. “If you don’t like anything there, we can get it custom made for you. You can make yourself feel right at home here.”

“Shall I guide you upstairs?” Ochaco asked you.

“That is where our influence of this day ends for now.” The Empress spoke. “I’ll let the Priestess know you have arrived. The wedding will be starting at six in the afternoon when the sun sets. After your bath I suggest you have a nap. It’s going to be a long day.”

You watched as the Empress and her husband left before being led up the stairs. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom, and two dressing rooms. All of your belongings were put into the empty dressing room.

“We can unpack your things after we serve you breakfast.” Ochaco told you. “The Prince should be arriving around the time breakfast starts to be served. I’ll quickly summon a maid to give you a bath, though I’m not sure if there would be hot water active right now. Most barbarian families have baths after dark.”

“It’s alright, I can bathe myself.” You told her. “How my people bathe is by having bath houses, or we simply were ourselves in a stream or a lake close by. I preferred bathing myself in the stream by my family home, so cold water isn’t an issue for me.”

Ochaco was taken back by what you said, looking at you with a concerned and shocked expression. “Weren’t you worried someone would see you bathing?”

“Our Goddess of the Wild Hunt wouldn’t allow such a thing.” You told her. “And even if a fool were too, the punishment would be death.”

She stared at you, a shocked smile was on her lips. She turned away for a moment and mumbled something under her breath. You raised an eyebrow at her before dropping it. You really shouldn’t be surprised if the people here looked or talked about you because of the customs you were used to compared to their own.

“I need to get my soaps from my belongings, so we may as well start to unpack.” You told her as you moved to the empty dressing room and knelt down to pull out your belongings.

One of your bags had no clothes in it whatsoever, mostly carrying all of your religious items such as your miniature statues of the gods. For now, you put those items on a shelf and put your bathroom supplies off to the side.

Pulling out your clothing from your other bags took some effort. Half of your clothing was for warmer weather, which meant the fabrics were thin and breathable, sometimes even see through. While your window clothing was a thick cotton and would cover up your entire body. Only when you pulled out what was planned to be your wedding dress did Ochaco make any sort of noise about your clothing.

“That’s so beautiful.” She smiled at it widely and brightly. The dress was a maxi dress, having ve neck, bishop sleeves, an empire waist, and a handkerchief hem. The fabric was an almost white cream colour, being a lightweight fabric. “Did you pick that out yourself?”

“No,” You told her truthfully. “One of the other Shachou’s daughters who is married gave it to me.”

“Shachou?” She tilted her head. “What's a Shachou?”

You thought for a moment, thinking about how to describe it. “Back home, we have nine elected politicians. Those nine are called The Shachous, and they are ranked with the length they have held their power for. They govern Girisha, debating and voting amongst themselves policies and laws. They are voted in by the voting base, which are men who own land and pay taxes, and men can only pay taxes once they earn a certain amount of wealth.”

“Oh, so similar to the Shiketsu Kingdom?”

You stared at her. “Sorry, I am not familiar with that.”

“They are one of the Kingdoms of Nihon, located on the western headlands. They have a Royal Family, but they vote in a President every ten years. The President works closely with the King and Queen while the Vice-President works closely with the heir to the throne. Though only people who own a home in their capital can pay taxes and are able to be voted into office.”

“... That's similar I guess.” You answered her. “Though, we don’t have a royal family. We overthrew them almost two hundred years ago.”

“So does that mean the people of your home nation disapprove of this marriage?” 

“... I think they would only be angry about it if The Prince imposed himself as our next ruler.”

“But do they disapprove?”

“... They approve on the principle that the war is over. That is all.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t see the Prince, even after you had finished unpacking, bathed, had breakfast, had a nap on his bed, and had lunch. The only evidence you saw that he had returned was that his belongings had been making their return to the apartment the entire day.

The maids had practically locked you up in your dressing room, and they had given you bowls of strawberries and watermelon to snack on. They did your hair and did your makeup all while looking at some notes on a piece of paper.

You were disassociating for most of it, only being brought back to reality with a soft knock at the door. A feminine voice spoke from the other side of the door, saying your name with care. “I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, the Empress asked me to see how things were going. May I enter?”

You looked at how the maids reacted before answering. They continued to work around you, not giving the voice any mind.

So far no biases showing.

“You may enter.” 

Then in came a half naked lady, making your cheeks warm up.

She stood at one hundred and ninety-three centimetres tall, had black hair and eyes, while was wearing a metal armoured bra of some kind and metal armour on her hips that held up what would be mistaken for underwear, a fabric flowed from the bra and wrapped from behind her, a armour neck brace which held up a green cape, thigh-high stockings, oranges elbow gloves, and armours boots that reached her knees.

You were shocked by her attire, though no one else in the room seemed to be.

She smiled warmly and sweetly at you that you felt guilty for questioning her attire.

“I hope everything is going well.” Her smile beamed. “I made sure the maids had all my notes on what your culture’s hair and makeup typically looks like for weddings. I was so honoured that the Empress even knew of my love for your culture’s aesthetics. 

You were silent for a moment before turning to a maid. “Could I see myself in a mirror please?”

“Yes ma’am.” Said one of them before giving you a mirror. You were surprised to see your hair was done perfectly in the style your people did during weddings and they did it in such a way it suited you. The make up as well made you feel beautiful.

“I’m glad you seem to enjoy it!” She beamed before blushing from nervousness. “I should reintroduce myself- I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, I’m a Mage Commander for the Barbarian troops. My magic allows me to create things from my body, though it uses the fat on my body. It’s why I dress in such a way.”

“I see.” You looked down at her cape. This is now the fourth person you’ve seen wearing a green cape. 

“Usually for Barbarian Weddings,” Yaoyorozu broke you from staring at her cape. “Both the bride and groom wear matching earrings. Prince Bakugou will be wearing his on his left ear for the wedding and we were just wondering if it would be alright if we asked you to wear some on your right ear?”

“I don’t have my ears pierced.” You told her, you were about to explain why but she began talking.

“I am aware your people only allow oracles to wear earrings, but these ones wouldn’t need you to piercing your ears.” She walked over to you and a section of her skin started to glow. She cupped the area that was glowing right before the light stopped, crocheting down before you. She presented to you what was in her hand, which were four gold earrings that had a clip maniche for the back of the earring. “These are clip-on earrings. They won’t require any form of piercing onto your ear. They might be a little painful considering the size of the earrings, but I think they could still work.”

You gently picked it up from her hand and took a closer look. The earring itself was two centimetres in length less than a centimetre in width. Where the gold would be connecting to your ear was a very tiny bulge on both sides.

“... This is acceptable.” You told her. Her face lit up and you heard a maid somewhere sigh in relief. 

“May I put them on you?” She asked. Once you gave a nod, she carefully reached to your right ear and started to put them on your ear. Surprisingly to you they were painful, though they were slightly heavier than what you expected. She pull away and gave you the mirror so you could look at them.

“They look very well on you, ma’am.” One of the maids told you.

“Do you like them?” Yaoyorozu  asked.

“... They will go well with my dress.” You told her, not wanting to admit you liked them there.

Yaoyorozu  stayed crouching before you. “I need to tell you something before the wedding begins.”

Your heart sank, fearing the worst. 

Were they going to sacrifice you or kill you right after the wedding?

“I know for your traditional weddings, the night after the wedding is usually the couple’s first time.” Yaoyorozu spoke gently. “For us, we wait until the woman’s first period after the wedding just so we know the first child is of the married couple. Though the Empress and the Prince have been informed of your culture and traditions regarding the first night, it is unclear what the Prince wants. Which is very unlike him.”

You tilted your head at her comment at the end. 

Unlike him? 

“So I just want to warn you that if you two don’t do it for the first time tonight, then please don’t take it personally. He probably doesn’t want to overwhelm you. Or on the other hand if he does ask if you two could do it tonight, don’t feel pressured to say yes. I know Prince Bakugou seems rough around the edges but he is sometimes surprisingly respectful.”

Why was she doing this? Why is she trying to warn you about this?

It didn’t matter what happened tonight. You were now property of the Prince because of the Peace Treaty. It didn’t matter if you were or weren’t in Girisha, you were still a man’s property. 

“Can I ask you something?”

She gently gripped your hands with hers. “Anything.”

“Why do you, the Iidas and Midoriya wear the same matching green cape?”

The maids froze, looking over their shoulders to watch the interaction. Yaoyorozu was taken aback by your question, not expecting the question to be about a cape.

“Well, the cape shows which Prince I am loyal to.”

“I thought there was only one Prince of the Barbarians.”

“... Officially. Honorary Prince Midoriya Izuku by the status of his mother being the second spouse and first concubine of the Empress. Midoriya was born three years before the two had met and was fourteen when the Empress killed his biological father. It’s the only way to legally transfer spouses for us barbarians, to beat them in a battle to the death.”

You remembered what the Empress told you earlier, that the imperial crown could be passed down via a fight to the death. 

Does that mean if someone challenged Katsuki to one of these battles while being emperor and he lost, you would be handed over to the next Emperor or Empress?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the sun started to set, you were brought out of your dressing room wearing your wedding dress by a woman who had blonde hair, aqua eyes, and stood at one hundred and seventy-one centimetres tall. She wore oval framed glasses, a white with pink accents priestess dress, and a small green cape.

Seems like Midoriya has many who support him.

She smiled politely and bowed her head to you, calling you by your name. “It’s an honour to meet you. I am Priestess Shield Melissa. Since you have no father figure with you here today, I will be walking you down the aisle before you exchange vows.”

You bowed your head slightly. “Thank you, Priestess.”

She paused. “Why are you bowing your head?”

“Back in Girisha, we see Priestesses as higher status since they have a higher connection to our gods than most of us do.” You informed her.

She made a face. “Well we don’t do that here.”

“I understand, it’s simply my customs-”

“Then I recommend you keep your Girisha customs to yourself.” She butted in. “Our Prince has already decided to go against our traditions by marrying you before he is supposed to. He is supposed to only marry after his twenty-first birthday, which is in forty-one days anyway but he was adamant this ‘wedding’ should be done right away.”

You stared at her, though not surprised someone was rude to you, simply shocked it was a priestess and so openly.

You were expecting someone to be rude to eventshully.

“I recommend you start learning our ways sooner rather than later. Prince Bakugou is not known for being nice to outsiders.” She glared at you before turning her back to you. “Let’s get going now. I don’t want to be blamed for you being late to your own wedding.”

She turned on her heel and started to walk out, expecting you to follow. Gripping onto the beads around your neck, you put your hands together and brought them to your face as you started to pray to your gods.

“Goddess Soteria, please gift me with your protection and safety.” You mumbled under your breath. “Goddess Hera, please bless me with a good husband who will not hurt me.”

Melissa rolled her eyes as you continued to walk. You were so consumed with praying, you didn’t realise you had reached your destination until you bumped into the back of Melissa.

She looked over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry-”

“Members of the Imperial Family do not apologise. Now, place your hand on my forearm so we walk down the aisle.”

You turned your head to look, seeing a long wedding aisle that was over one hundred metres in length. 

The longest aisle back in Girisha was barely forty metres long and you were expected to walk down one that was more than double?

“Are you ready?” Melissa asked with an annoyed tone.

You gently put your hand on top of her forearm then started to walk with her for almost two minutes. You tried to ignore the stares you knew you were receiving, keeping your eyes on the red carpet before you.

When Melissa moved her arm away, it was because you had reached the end of the aisle. You saw Katsuki’s grey boots before tilting your head up to look at him. It appeared that the left side of his hair was gelled back, showing his piercing on said ear to the crowd. 

His red crimson eyes were glued to you. He looked at you up and down, looking at the dress you were wearing.

He didn’t give anything that showed he approved or disapproved of the dress, though his eyes seemed to focus on where the beads around your neck were sitting.

Melissa forced a cough to force Katsuki to look at her. 

“Today we are gathered here at sunset to bare witness a man and woman be forever tied together in matrimony, taught to us via the gods.” Melissa started. You heard soft mumblings in the audience but decided to give it no mind for now. “Barbarian Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, do you take this woman as your wife, to live together, to hunt for her, to love her, to honour her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for long as you both live?”

Katsuki looked back down at you, his eyes unreadable. “I do.”

Melissa turned to you and said your name. “Do you take this man as your husband, to live together, to bear children for him, to love him, to honour him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both live?”

To hunt for her and bear children for him? 

You didn’t know where those lines came from or why it was in the wedding, maybe it was just a barbarian thing?

“I do.”

Two children walked up to you. A fourteen year old girl and a twelve year old boy. Both had hair that was either blonde or a very light brown, brown eyes, and freckles on their noses. Both held red pillows, the girl’s sat a short blade and a miniature statue of your Goddess Hera - how she had it you had no idea - on it and the boy’s having two rings.

Katsuki picked up a ring that housed a crimson ruby. He gently grabbed your hand and slid the ring on your ring finger as he spoke. “I, Prince of the Dragon Tribe, Bakugou Katsuki, take this woman as my wife from this day forward, for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part.”

You picked up the golden ring and grabbed Katsuki's hand. Sliding on his ring on his ring finger, you stated your name. “-take this man as my husband from this day forward, for better and for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and cherish, till death do us part.”

As you spoke, Katsuki picked up the blade and cut into his left hand. Once you had finished the ring exchange he picked up the statues, smearing his blood on it. You cut into your left hand, tracing the scar from previous religious rituals. He passed the statue to you so you could smear your blood on it.

Melissa passed Katsuki a chalice filled with grape juice. He squeezed his hand so his blood would pour into the cup before passing it to you and taking the statue from you. As you did the same to pour your blood into the chalice, you noticed how rough Katsuki passed the statue to Melissa.

Katsuki took the cup from you, keeping eye contact as you took a sip from it. He passed it back to you, putting his hand securely under the cup as you took a sip. Melissa took the cup, raising it into the air.

“By virtue of the authority vested in me by the Gods, I pronounced these two husband and wife!” Melissa announced to the audience. “You now may kiss the bride.”

Suddenly, Katsuki grabbed your face and pulled you close. His lips met yours with passion, leaving you confused. You closed your eyes as the crowds started to cheer and clapped.

As the crowd continued to cheer and clap, Katsuki pulled away with a smirk.“You're mine now, and you won’t be going anywhere.”

[mariacallous]

There was a moment that struck me, and I think it would strike you too: Donald Trump openly praised Viktor Orbán, as he has done repeatedly in the past. But he said, explicitly, Orbán is a good guy because he’s a “strongman,” which is a word that he clearly takes to be a compliment, not derogatory. You’ve written about the strongman fantasy in your Substack, so I’m curious: What do you think Trump is appealing to here?

Well, I’m going to answer it in a slightly different way, and then I’ll go back to the way you mean it. I think he’s tapping into one of his own inner fantasies. I think he looks around the world and he sees that there’s a person like Orbán, who’s taken a constitutional system and climbed out of it and has managed to go from being a normal prime minister to essentially being an extraconstitutional figure. And I think that’s what Trump wants for himself. And then, of course, the next step is a Putin-type figure, where he’s now an unquestioned dictator.

For the rest of us, I think he’s tapping—in a minor key—into inexperience, and that was my strongman piece that you kindly mentioned. Americans don’t really think through what it would mean to have a government without the rule of law and the possibility of throwing the bums out. I think we just haven’t thought that through in all of its banality: the neighbors denouncing you, your kids not having social mobility because you maybe did something wrong, having to be afraid all the damn time. African Americans and some immigrants have a sense of this, but in general, Americans don’t get that. They don’t get what that would be like.

So that’s a minor key. The major key, though, is the 20% or so of Americans who really, I think, authentically do want an authoritarian regime, because they would prefer to identify personally with a leader figure and feel good about it rather than enjoy freedom.

You mentioned the word banality, which makes me think of Hannah Arendt’s theory of the “banality of evil.” What would the banality of authoritarianism look like in America?

So let me first talk about the nonbanality of evil, because our version of evil is something like, and I don’t want to be too mean, but it’s something like this: A giant monster rises out of the ocean and then we get it with our F-16s or F-35s or whatever. That’s our version of evil. It’s corporeal, it’s obviously bad, and it can be defeated by dramatic acts of violence.

And we apply that to figures like Hitler or Stalin, and we think, Okay, what happened with Hitler was that he was suddenly defeated by a war. Of course he was defeated by a war, but he did some dramatic and violent things to come to power, but his coming to power also involved a million banalities. It involved a million assimilations, a million changes of what we think of as normal. And it’s our ability to make things normal and abnormal which is so terrifying. It’s like an animal instinct on our part: We can tell what the power wants us to do, and if we don’t think about it, we then do it. In authoritarian conditions, this means that we realize, Oh, the law doesn’t really apply anymore. That means my neighbor could have denounced me for anything, and so I better denounce my neighbor first. And before you know it, you’re in a completely different society, and the banality here is that instead of just walking down the street thinking about your own stuff, you’re thinking, Wait a minute, which of my neighbors is going to denounce me?

Americans think all the time about getting their kids into the right school. What happens in an authoritarian country is that all of that access to social mobility becomes determined by obedience. And as a parent, suddenly you realize you have to be publicly loyal all the time, because one little black mark against you ruins your child’s future. And that’s the banality right there. In Russia, everybody lives like that, because any little thing you do wrong, and your kid has no chance. They get thrown out of school; they can’t go to university.

We don’t imagine how a regime change is going to be at the dinner table. The regime change is going to be on the sidewalk. It’s going to be in your whole life. It’s not going to be some external thing. It’s not like this strongman is just going to be some bad person in the White House, and then eventually the good guys will come and knock him out. When the regime changes, you change and you adapt, and you look around as everyone else is adapting and you realize, Well, everyone else adapting is a new reality for me, and I’m probably going to have to adapt too. Trump wants to be a strongman. He’s already tried a ​​ coup d’état. He makes it clear that he wants to be a different regime. And so if you vote him in, you’re basically saying, “Okay, strongman, tell me how to adapt.”

Yeah, we could talk about Project 2025 all day. This new effort to bureaucratize tyranny—which was not in place in 2020—could really make the banal aspect a reality because it’s enforced by the administrative state, which is going to be felt by Americans at a quotidian level.

I agree with what you say. If I were in business, I would be terrified of Project 2025 because what it’s going to lead to is favoritism. You’re never going to get approvals for your stuff unless you’re politically close to administration. It’s going to push us toward a more Hungary-like situation, where the president’s pals’ or Jared Kushner’s pals’ companies are going to do fine. But everybody else is going to have to pay bribes. Everyone else is going to have to make friends.

It’s anticompetitive.

Yeah, it’s going to generate a very, very uneven playing field where certain people are going to be favored and become oligarchs. And most of the rest of us are going to have a hard time. Also, the 40,000 [loyalists Trump wants to replace the administrative state with] are going to be completely incompetent. When people stop getting their Social Security checks, they’re going to realize that the federal government—which they’ve been told is so dysfunctional—actually did do some things. It’s going to be chaos. The only way to get anything done is to have a phone number where you can call somebody at someplace in the government and say, “Make my thing a priority.” The chaos of the administration state feeds into the strongman thing. And since that’s true, the strongman view starts to become natural for you because it’s the only way to get anything done.

Timothy Snyder Explains How Americans Might Adapt to Fascism Under Trump

[catboymoments]

Also eda and lilith being pale doesnt make them less "indigenous" or mean that their ancestors like evelyn must have appeared different racially! There are plenty of people considered indigenous who might have very pale skin or appear "white" in the way that western countries have tried to define thet in the last few hundred years! Not to bring up the irish again, but there are people who would certainly be considered white and maybe the palest people on earth like me, but are "indigenous" in the sense rhey havent been removed from their ancestral homelands on the far western coast. Esp the Traveller people who are culturslly considered indigenous.

People like the Sámi who are "racially white" are indigenous to Norway and Sweden, and maintain cultural traditions local to the area and highly distinct from Christianised people of those countries.

There are also the turkic peoples all across russia, siberia and northern asia. Certainly indigenous and maintaining cultural lifestyles far removed from the Slavics of the western areas.

This isnt an attack or like. Wahwahwahwqqhh youre not woke 😡 but its more like indigenous is best considered as cultural and not racial because any race can be indigenous, there isnt a special quality that makes a race More Indigenous, its about cultural traditions and ways of living that are better criteria for classification.

In my country, "indigenous" is very racialised in meaning just like in the USA but it's sort of like. Something thats sort of specific by country to country and wont apply well to a fantasy world without those histories and classification systems.

YOURE SO CORRECT DONT WORRY I was mostly bringing up them being pale because I know a lot of people associate them being soooo pale with them being white BUT YKWIM YOURE NOT OUTWOKING ME CISJFNKVNVKDNFJV I actually thought this was super interesting!!!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

It was wrong to treat Donald Trump as a series of absences. The standard critique has always been that he lacks something that we imagine to be a prerequisite for high office: breeding, or grammar, or diplomacy, or business acumen, or love of country. And he does lack all those things, as well as pretty much any conventional bourgeois virtue you can name.

Trump’s skills and talents go unrecognized when we see him as a conventional candidate—a person who seeks to explain policies that might improve lives, or who works to create the appearance of empathy. Yet this is our shortcoming more than his. Trump has always been a presence, not an absence: the presence of fascism. What does this mean?

When the Soviets called their enemies “fascists,” they turned the word into a meaningless insult. Putinist Russia has preserved the habit: a “fascist” is anyone who opposes the wishes of a Russian dictator. So Ukrainians defending their country from Russian invaders are “fascists.” This is a trick that Trump has copied. He, like Vladimir Putin, refers to his enemies as “fascists,” with no ideological significance at all. It is simply a term of opprobrium.

Putin and Trump are both, in fact, fascists. And their use of the word, though meant to confuse, reminds us of one of fascism’s essential characteristics. A fascist is unconcerned with the connection between words and meanings. He does not serve the language; the language serves him. When a fascist calls a liberal a “fascist,” the term begins to work in a different way, as the servant of a particular person, rather than as a bearer of meaning.

That is quite a fascist achievement. Faced with the complexity of history, liberals struggle with the overwhelming volume of questions to be asked, answers to be offered. Like communism, fascism is an answer to all questions, but a different kind of answer. Communism assures us that we can, thanks to science, find an underlying direction in all events, toward a better future. This is (or was) seductive. Fascism reduces the imbroglio of sensation to what the Leader says.

A liberal has to tell a hundred stories, or a thousand. A communist has one story, which might not turn out to be true. A fascist just has to be a storyteller. Because words do not attach to meanings, the stories don’t need to be consistent. They don’t need to accord with external reality. A fascist storyteller just has to find a pulse and hold it. This can proceed through rehearsal, as with Hitler, or by way of trial and error, as with Trump.

That requires presence, which Trump has always had. His charisma need not resonate with you: probably, Hitler’s and Mussolini’s would not have reached you, either. But it is nevertheless a talent. To be a fascist and to call someone else a fascist requires a cunning that is natural to Trump. And in that naming of the enemy, absurd as it is, we see the second major element of fascism.

A Leader (“Duce” and “Führer” mean just that) initiates politics by choosing an enemy. As the Nazi legal thinker Carl Schmitt maintained, the choice is arbitrary. It has little or no basis in reality. It takes its force from the decisive will of the Leader. The people who watched Trump’s television ads during sporting events had not been harmed by a transgender person, or by an immigrant, or by a woman of color. The magic lies in the daring it takes to declare a weaker group to be part of an overwhelming conspiracy.

The one thing that is not arbitrary about the choice of an enemy is that it must exploit vulnerabilities. The Trump ads projected a fantasy of Kamala Harris allowing millions of sex-changed foreigners to take jobs from Americans. This touches, all at once, on gender, economic, and sexual vulnerability. We are unprotected and impoverished and will be replaced by something alien. And this is all orchestrated by a shadowy enemy in the background—in this case, a woman of color who knows how to laugh.

The “great replacement” theory is an example of an unoriginal fascist lie: conspirators will make you impotent and bring others to take your place in the world. The apparent complexity of the world resolves itself as a conspiracy, just as the attendant anxiety is resolved by hatred. This works with almost any combination of enemies. It can be a conspiracy of deep-state politicians to kidnap babies, or a conspiracy of Jews to corrupt women. Fascism wins when the enmity summoned begins to tell the story itself.

A fascist marries conspiracy and necessity. Not everyone can tell a spontaneous Big Lie, as Trump did, when he lost the 2020 election. And the Republicans around him did not challenge him. The Big Lie came to life when his followers stormed the Capitol on January 6, 2021. Crucially, he paid no price for that. That made the Big Lie true, in a fascist sense. His de-facto impunity and then de-jure immunity also generated a sense of the untouchable, the heroic.

Trump’s presence has always been a co-creation: his and ours. From the moment when he first came down the Trump Tower escalator in 2015, he was treated as a source of spectacle. Because he was good for television, he was accepted as a legitimate candidate. In the print media, he grew through the doctrine of both-sides-ism: no matter how awful his deeds, his opponent had to be presented as equally bad. This empowered him to be both wicked and normal. During every campaign’s final months, polling had a similar effect. By displacing policy differences and reducing politics to two faces or two colors, polls reinforce the notion that Trump belonged where he was, and that politics was just a matter of us or them.

What amplifies Trump’s presence more than any other medium is the Internet. He is a natural with its quirky rhythms. And its algorithms make the rest of us open to exactly his sort of talky fascism. On social media, we are drawn away from people of complexity and toward blunt stereotypes. We ourselves are categorized, and are then fed content that brings out, in Václav Havel’s term, our “most probable states.” The Internet does not just spread specific conspiracy theories; it primes our minds for them. This was already true before Elon Musk reshaped Twitter in Trump’s image.

Our engagement with the machine illuminates a difference between the fascists of the twenty-twenties and the fascists of the nineteen-twenties. Back then, the machine was seen as bold and beautiful, a brutal instrument that would return us to our nature by wrenching us from the hold of soft civilization. The Italian poet Filippo Tommaso Marinetti had an epiphany after an automobile accident in 1908, which led him to Futurism and then to fascism. For Hitler, the internal-combustion engine hastened a “Blitzsieg,” a lightning victory. The superior race with the superior technology exterminates other races, takes other peoples’ land, and thrives.

We are still driving around using internal-combustion engines, as we were a century ago; what has changed more than our means of locomotion is our means of staying put. When the Nazis dreamed of a radio in every home or a newsreel before every film, they did not imagine Germans motionlessly staring at screens for most of the day, as we all do now. Fascists a hundred years ago liked the male body, physical fitness, and marching around outside. Fascism today involves a masculinity softened by screen time. In both eras of fascism, women were explicitly deemed inferior. If the old fascism depended on a fantasy of accelerated male prowess, today’s rests on the anxiety of mechanical inability.

The fascist fantasy traditionally involved a return to nature. The Leader’s voice guided us into a competition with other races for habitat. Hitler was obsessed with coming ecological catastrophe, and he argued, in “Mein Kampf,” that Germans had to seize land or starve. That was incorrect. But, a hundred years later, those internal-combustion engines and other archaic technologies actually have changed the climate to the point of causing droughts and storms, as we saw during this electoral season. When such disasters occur, today’s fascists react as Trump and J. D. Vance did: they blame the victims and the immigrants, and invent conspiracy theories. If the old fascism killed for the sake of a dream of uniting with nature, the new fascism will kill by a politics of catastrophe, a deliberate acceleration of global warming, and its exploitation in the service of the politics of us and them.

A century ago, socialists wanted to believe that fascism was just another sign of the decay of capitalism. And they were right, at least insofar as businessmen then didn’t understand that fascism would reshape all of politics and society, and not just suppress labor unions and undermine democracy. Today, though, the point would be much sharper. Trump does not actually have a lot of money, but he pretends to—getting away with that lie is part of his presence. And his close fascist allies, Musk and Putin, are probably the two wealthiest people in the world. The fascism of today is nestled between the digital oligarchy (Musk) and the hydrocarbon oligarchy (Putin). Trump has pledged himself to America’s own hydrocarbon oligarchs, thereby insuring climate disaster, suffering, immigration, and even more occasions for division.

The oligarchs bring to our fascism its libertarian entry point: they preach that government is the source of all evil. As we yield to that logic, the hydrocarbon oligarchs drill away at the earth and the digital oligarchs at our minds. A weakened government can control neither, nor can it promise sound infrastructure or the welfare state. In these conditions, freedom is viewed not only as a struggle against the government but also as a struggle against one’s own neighbors. The people who claim to want individual freedom are the same people who clamor for mass deportations. America’s hydrocarbon and digital oligarchs support this kind of libertarianism; it is social media that guides men (and it is usually men) away from the idea that they are solitary heroes to the conviction that other groups must be punished.

Fascism is now in the algorithms, the neural pathways, the social interactions. How did we fail to see all this? Part of it was our belief that history is over, that the great rivals to liberalism were dead or exhausted. Part of it was American exceptionalism: “it can’t happen here” and so on. But most of it was simple self-absorption: we wanted to see Trump in terms of his absences, so that our way of seeing the world would go unchallenged. So we failed to see his fascist presence. And, because we ignored the fascism, we were unable to make the easy predictions of what he would do next. Or, worse, we learned to thrill at our own mistakes, because he always did something more outrageous than we expected.

It was predictable that Trump would deny the results of the 2020 election. It was predictable that his Big Lie would change American politics. It is predictable, today, that he will give free rein to the oligarchs who, he knows, will continue to generate the social and digital bases of a politics of us and them. It is predictable that, in returning to power, he will seek to change the system so that he can remain in power until death. It is predictable that he will use deportations to divide us, to accustom us to violence, and to make accomplices of us. It is predictable that he will create a cult out of the martyrs of January 6th. It is predictable that he will coöperate with similarly minded rulers abroad.

When the historian Robert Paxton was asked about Trump and fascism a few weeks ago, he made an important point. Of course, Trump is a fascist, Paxton concluded. It was fine to compare him to Mussolini and Hitler, but there was a larger point. It took some luck for those two to come to power. “The Trump phenomenon looks like it has a much more solid social base,” Paxton said, “which neither Hitler nor Mussolini would have had.”

Fascism is a phenomenon, not a person. Just as Trump was always a presence, so is the movement he has created. It is not just a matter of the actual fascists in his movement, who are scarcely hiding, nor of his own friendly references to Hitler or his use of Hitlerian language (“vermin,” “enemy within”). He bears responsibility for what comes next, as do his allies and supporters.

Yet some, and probably more, of the blame rests with our actions and analysis. Again and again, our major institutions, from the media to the judiciary, have amplified Trump’s presence; again and again, we have failed to name the consequences. Fascism can be defeated, but not when we are on its side. ♦

Published in the print edition of the November 18, 2024, issue, with the headline “American Fascist.”

[hero-israel]

Hi. I want to preface this by mentioning I am a non Jewish supporter of Israel and of the Jewish people, but I have some serious questions that really bother me and make me rethink my position.

Reading up on the beginning of the Zionist movement and its leaders, I cannot help but think, how can they simply ignore that there are already people there, or that said people would be alright with becoming a minority? Did they really think Arabs and arabised people living there would just be alright with it?

I do believe that Jews are indigenous to the land and that it’s only just that they have their homeland back, but I think the way they went about it was wrong. It’s not the fault of the people living there that Romans exiled them after all. Some Zionists leaders admitted that the only way to establish a state was against the will of the native population and that some ethnic cleansing is necessary to achieve it.

I want to support Israel but I’m very uncomfortable with the idea that many innocent people who lived there for generations were kicked out after the lands were bought by Zionists, or ended up ethnically cleansed in the civil war even if they didn’t participate in the hostilities. It feels morally inconsistent to me to just ignore this or brush it aside.

What is your view on all of this?

My view is that it's fine to believe exactly what you said - "the Jews are indigenous, it's only just that they have their homeland back, but the way they went about it was wrong." Nothing in that construction justifies hatred or violence against Jews or Israelis, nor does it prevent building a better future for Palestinians.

Israel exists. It houses half the world's Jewish population and a majority of all Jewish children, mostly descendants of refugees from obliterated communities in the MENA or Europe (more the former). Those political realities matter far more than an essay debate published in 1928. You may have already encountered people who try to relitigate the Civil War by pointing out that Abraham Lincoln unlawfully suspended habeas corpus and didn't even really like black people anyway, so instead of a gruesome and devastating war led by a morally compromised man it would have been better to allow the South to gradually phase out slavery on its own, that it should have happened some other way. Well, it DIDN'T happen some other way, it happened and people well into the 21st century need to move on with life. If anyone in the world had an excuse to cling to bitterness forever, it would be the Jews of Israel vis-a-vis Jordan and Egypt and Saudi Arabia, Poland and Russia and Germany. So why are the Jews of Israel able to move on with having relationships with all those countries that persecuted and destroyed them? And if they can do it, shouldn't casual observers half a world away do it?

By all means, read up on early Zionist history, see what the ideas were and how they had to change when exposed to real events (and also see how they were specifically opposed to population removal). Some, like Martin Buber, urged a binational state formed cooperatively with Arabs. Ze'ev Jabotinsky warned that Arabs would never accept large numbers of Jews as their equals and that promises of shared wealth were a fantasy, therefore Jews would need to demonstrate military power and win respect and negotiations that way. Albert Einstein had initially hoped for a binational state, but once history happened the way it did, he accepted - and loved - the Israel that he got.

I also think you should look a bit more deeply into just why so many people departed Palestine in 1948, and just how many generations had passed since their own ancestors had in turn immigrated there.

Whatever you may read about the 1920s, or 1940s, you will find nothing that justifies hatred, harassment, violence, or genocide against Jewish people at any place or time, including Israel today. If you truly are a supporter of the Jewish people as you claim to be - and we would be happy to have you - by all means look at the true toll of history and keep speaking up for our protection and our lives.

[velvetvexations]

I figured it out, I figured out how to explain part of the link between tankies and trfs and in fact how they even almost got me once upon a time.

It's the essential oppositional thinking, where everyone else's grass is greener - a step beyond your usual black and white, "X is bad, Y is good," all the way into "X is bad, therefore its very nature is bad and it can be nothing but bad, and Y is considered its opposite, so Y is good and will always be good."

Being a woman is good for them, therefore being a woman Is Good, it is objectively good, this is a universal fact, therefore it is ALSO an immutable universal fact that being a man is inherently bad. Good old fashioned oppositional sexism, in a pink hat, just like every flavor of radfeminism.

And in international politics? It doesn't seem like a coincidence that most tankie trfs are American:

The US's economic system is fucked, and we've probably never been the good guy in ANY international relation, therefore any country that has an adversarial relationship with the US government must be wholly inscrutable.

Russia was a utopia, actually, until they just RANDOMLY decided to start hating gay people out of nowhere, and if we could just get her back to her glory days everything would be amazing, and no this is totally not a RETVRN statement about a fantasy past what are you talking about? This is simply the truth, because we know that the US government doesn't like them and hated them even more then, and the US government is Bad, therefore anyone the US government doesn't like must be doing EVERYTHING right.

China has never had a problem with corruption and state-sanctioned violence and disaster mismanagement. We know this to be true, because the US has those things, and the US government is unfriendly with that of China, so we are opposites, so if we are Bad they must be Good. They must have gotten everything right.

If that's the level you're operating on, it feels like a very natural conclusion, and when you're just learning how deep the rabbit hole of "sexism is more than just 'get back in the kitchen' jokes" and/or "America is usually the bad guy in the international politics game and imperialism really fucking sucks" goes, it's easy to end up slipping into that level without realizing it.

I mean, if the other guy was ACTUALLY doing bad things, then why didn't people just expose THAT instead of making shit up for propaganda? (@ my younger self: because they thought the actual bad stuff was the okay part, dipshit (lovingly).)

String Theory but for internet leftist assholes. Congratulations, anon.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Any tips on how to write a historical fiction? Like working out the historical placement, economy and the political state of the country, the situation of royalty etc. Love your blog!

Historical Fiction vs Other Historical Subgenres

I wonder if you're meaning to ask about writing "historical fantasy" or "alternate history" rather than historical fiction. Here's why...

Historical fiction is set in a real place, in a real, recognizable time in our history. For example, Melissa de la Cruz's Alex & Eliza follows the lives and marriage of Alexander Hamilton and Elizabeth Schuyler, real U.S. historical figures who were featured in the recently popular musical, Hamilton. If you want to write historical fiction, fleshing out your setting's economy, political state, situation of royalty, etc. is a matter of researching your setting in that particular time. My post Researching an Historical Topic has some pointers that should help with that kind of research.

Historical fantasy can be one of two things: typically, historical fantasy refers to stories set in a real place and time in our history, but with the incorporation of fantastical elements, such as in Marie Lu's The Kingdom of Back which is set in 18th-century Europe and follows Mozart's older sister, who gets involved with a stranger from a magical realm who promises to make her musical dreams come true. Historical fantasy can also be set in a fictional place that heavily resembles a real historical time and place and incorporates magic, but since the emphasis is as much on the historical feel of the story as on the fantastical elements, it's historical fantasy rather than just fantasy. Here, too, fleshing out your setting will come down to doing research, then making your own decisions about how to plausibly differentiate your imaginary setting. You may find it easier to do this after you've fleshed out your plot and understand the needs of your story.

Alternate history imagines a historical place and time in our world but with a major difference, like what if the Titanic sailed through a time portal into 1970s New York. Or, what life in 1920s Los Angeles would have been like if the U.S. had lost the Revolutionary War and the king and queen had come to visit some of their American Dukes and Duchesses. Fleshing out an alternate history setting will require research of the real time and location as well as some educated brainstorming about how things would be different.

Fantasy stories are sometimes set in settings or worlds loosely or somewhat heavily based on our own. In Leigh Bardugo's Grishaverse, Ravka is loosely based on early 1800s Russia, and in George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire, Westeros is loosely based on early-medieval Britain. However, because the emphasis is more on the fantastical elements than the historical similarities, these stories are straight up fantasy rather than historical fantasy. Much as with the other examples, here fleshing out your setting requires research of your inspiration setting as well as brainstorming to determine what you want to change.

Let me know if you have questions about whichever specific one you want to write!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[aliciavance4228]

Rereading the Grisha Trilogy so you don't have to

Book 1: Shadow and Bones

Okay, so apparently the action takes place in this fictionial country named Ravka, which is basically the fantasy equivalent of the Tsarist Russia. And just like any other carbon copy of Russia that respects itself, the kingdom of fricking coursly had to be at war with its neighborhoods. Furthermore, the country itself was split into two lands by the Shadow Fold, the long-ago creation of an evil wizard, populated by ugly rabbit predators which feed on those who had the bad inspiration to cross the Fold.

Those who usually end up as their menu are the members of the armed forces, separated into two groups. The First Army is made out of regular people, whereas the Second Army is made out of magical people ruled by a guy called... *suspense drum music* the Darkling *badum tss*. No, this isn't a joke. This is his actual title. At this point you could just call him Black Fantasy.

Additional Note: The way the author tried to insert russian/slavic elements in the universe is hilariously annoying. There are magical people here called "Grisha", despite the fact that "Grisha" is short for Gregori. They could as well just be named Greg. They're also alcoholics apparently, which I won't criticize since it's kinda accurate, but the thing is: these guys are drinking kvas. And kvas not only that is an actual, existing drink, but it's not even am alcoholic one to begin with. Even the russian-like names are wrongly gendered, since women's last names usually get feminized and end in "-a". Therefore it should've been "Starkova" instead of "Starkov", and "Morozov" instead of "Morozova".

Anyway, back to the review:

The main characters are Alina, the average YA teenage girl with low self-esteem issues, and her friend... Mal? Malyen?! I mean... do I even have to point out the fact that this isn't even a real name at all? Also, does the author know that russians (and slavic people in general) do not use american nicknames, right? She clearly knows, given the fact that she decided to name the russian-coded wizards Grisha and called it a day. *sighs* I'll just call him Misha.

Alina and Misha are chosen among the soldiers who will cross the Fold this time. Their ship ends up being attacked by sea monsters by default and Alina suddenly becomes a Disco Ball while her and Misha are about to get killed by one. Later she is brought to Black Fantasy, who reveals her to be The Chosen One, the one who can destroy the Fold after so many centuries and thus she must go with him to the Russian Hogwarts. Girly is now an aristocrat and is introduced to Genya, a magical make-up artist and beauty guru, the boring characters who will die throughout this series and the even more boring king and queen who won't die because apparently killing any filler characters besides those the reader actually wants to see dead isn't professional.

Oh, and apparently one of her teachers is Baba Yaga, who lives in a hut just like the original slavic figure. Except that the hut in question doesn’t have skull lanterns nor chicken legs. Booooooo! On a more sarcastic note though I'll forgive the author for that, because Baba Yaga is constantly beating Alina with her cane, yells at her to close the door so that the air current won't come in and swears. I'll be honest, I didn't expect someone to have such complex knowledge on how do eastern european grannies behave. Alina still cannot control her powers and is thinking about Misha and all the things she didn't tell him, because she was too busy fantasizing about him rather than actually talking to him about her feelings. Black Fantasy finally decides to talk to Alina again after remaining edgy for a while and tells her she needs an amplifier (basically something that can amplify one's powers) and because she's The Chosen One she must deserve the most powerful one just like any other spoiled brat: White Bambi.

Additional Note: Man, I cannot take a guy who literally calls himself the Darkling seriously. If you're really going to embarass yourself like that then at least don't stop here! The Darkling takes a bath: the Sparkling. The Darkling finds a parking place: the Parkling. The Darkling feeds the ducks: the Duckling...

Currently on Chapter 13: The Darkling kisses Alina. Alarming. Also I forgot to mention that earlier but dude is like hundreds of years old. But don't worry, because kissing teenage girls it's okay and completely not pedophilic as long as you're looking like one as well. 👍

Now on Chapter 14: When the hell did this become a Whore House?! Anyway, Alina reunites with Misha, but because he thought she was being tortured all this time and he tried to be the one who found White Bambi so that he could be brought to the palace and eventually reunite with her only to find her making magic tricks at parties and exchanging saliva with the depraved fossil their reunion doesn’t go very well.

We found out from Baba Yaga that Black Fantasy was... *suspense drum sounds* the villain all this time *gasps in shock*.

The entire scene basically went like this:

BY: You must go! Black Fantasy is the evil wizard who created the Fold a long time ago and he will use you to expand it and gain supreme power.

A: But he's only 200 years old or something like that.

BY: ...

BY: Girl, you have daddy issues.

Oh, and Baba Yaga is also Black Fantasy's mother. I quess everyone has relatives they don't like...

Alina leaves the palace at night and reunites with Misha, who wants to help her kill White Bambi before Black Fantasy because otherwise Black Fantasy will have full control over her, he'll use her powers to do bad thing and stuff blah, blah, blah. After a while they find White Bambi, but right when Alina is supposed to kill him she starts philosophing about morality and why killing an innocent creature is wrong and why they must find another way to- Nevermind, Black Fantasy killed White Bambi already and turned Alina into his slave.

Black Fantasy uses her powers to expand the Fold and kills hundreds of innocent people in the process. But worry not, because our female lead manages to regain control over her magical abilities with the power of compassion, and her and Misha leave the ship while leaving Black Fantasy & Co. in the hope that they will ultimately get devoured by the sea rabbit predators.

Impressions

I don't necessarily find too many good things to point out besides three aspects. First of all, I appreciate the fact that the author didn't intend to insert a love triangle only after a few pages of writing, and instead has her protagonist be with two different men at different times and situations. Secondly, the Darkling is acknowledged as an abusive and manipulative figure, and their relationship isn't romanticized. Last but not least, I like how Mal and Alina are acting like ordinary, realistic teenagers instead of some 2D caricatures.

I personally find the world-building and magic system to be undeveloped and crusty, yet I would lie if I'd say this book is terrible compared to the average BookTok novel.

The Darkling is a very cliché villain. He wears black all the time (given the way he calls himself I would be surprised if he would wear anything else), is extremely dubious yet for some reason everyone around believes him to be a good person, has darkness powers (What a surprise!) and all the magic hot chicks have a crush on him.

Let me know if you want me to talk about the other books as well!

[gala-art]

Hi! I recently come across your art on pinterest and found your blog thanks to the link. I apologize in advance for the errors in the text, because I speak English poorly, I write through a translator (hello from Russia!). I just want to thank you for the atmospheric and cute drawings (of Daryl and Beth), I often review them. I am also an artist, I have an audience (1,500 people have subscribed to me on the VKontakte social network), and I wanted to ask you if you have come across any hate to the fact that you paint Bethyl? If you have encountered this, how did you react to it? On Pinterest, I often noticed people who strongly hate Bethyl, saying that they have a big age difference and other age-related arguments (in my personal opinion, meaningless arguments that can be strongly argued with, but it's still a shame when cute pairing is condemned from scratch). Because of such people, I'm a little afraid to share the art related to this couple. Your advice will be useful to me. Thanks in advance for the answer!❤️

Hello! Thank you so much for your kind words, and for your ask. I'm always excited to meet other artists and fans who support bethyl. They are a beautiful ship. I love to hear that you have a following for your art in your home country. I would love to support your art. If you ever consider sharing it on tumblr, or if there's a way for me to find it on pinterest or elsewhere, please let me know!! The bethyl community here is still active and very supportive.

In response to your question: Yes, I have received hate on my art. And I know that many of my friends and our fellow shippers have also received hate even just for posting their opinions about bethyl online. It's unfortunately not that uncommon, though as I've heard, it used to be a LOT worse. Unfortunately, there are people on the internet who think that they are a kind of "morality police." It's usually because they simply want another character to end up with Daryl in the show, so they use any excuse to invalidate ships they don't agree with. For bethyl, that happens to be the age gap. It often results in all kinds of bullying. Name-calling, harassment, etc. I've seen people refer to Beth as a "kid," even as that is clearly a lie.

As you said, and as we see here, there are of course arguments to be made, ie: Daryl and Beth are both adults, it's a fantasy, it's a fictional apocalypse setting, shipping something or liking something in fiction doesn't mean you'd condone it in reality, etc. etc. etc. Unfortunately with these people, none of that stuff matters. It doesn't feel good.

SO. The best way to deal with it is mostly to just ignore it. In the past, I've mostly just told people to go away. If you're being harassed, block the person, report them on your platform if possible. The last thing I try to do is argue with them, because it's pointless. I also try not to let it affect me and my love for bethyl and my experience as a fan artist too much. The thing to remember is that bethyl was and still is very popular. Most people don't care about the age difference. Most people aren't sitting around and thinking up ways to make other fans miserable. Being a part of a community, if possible, is the best way to fortify yourself against antisocial bullies. Having friends and mutuals on your platforms who lift up your art and support you, and who you support in return, is the best defense against haters. I have made many friends in this fandom who I will cherish always. That's why I am here.

On that note, try not to be afraid to share art of the couple you love. This is a hobby, a passion that we take part in for free. And there is nothing morally wrong or "problematic" with bethyl. Haters will make that claim, because they will say anything to bring other people down. If people are put off by the age difference, that is of course their right. They are entitled to their opinion. But that is JUST their opinion. It doesn't mean that their opinion is more correct or better than anyone else's, no matter what they say, and it DEFINITELY doesn't justify hate and abuse. So surround yourself with friends and a community of people you enjoy. Even if it is very small, it's enough! Ignore the haters, and block/report them if they become a problem. They will always be there, as haters are a fact of life. So we just have to persevere. That's my advice. I'm very flattered that you would ask for it ❤️

[mileapo]

Mile & Apo: It takes two to triumph

IN THE GLITZY REALM OF entertainment, where talent often shines like a beacon, there occasionally emerges a pair of stars whose chemistry transcends the screen. Such is the case with Mile and Apo, two charismatic Thai actors whose TV show KinnPorsche has become a global sensation, watched by millions of viewers from Russia and India, to Poland and Peru.

The two have risen from relative obscurity to become the new ambassadors of Dior, mobbed by teenage girls when they arrived in Mumbai earlier this year to attend a Dior fashion show.

On the surface, the Thai series KinnPorsche seems to have thrown the rulebook of “How to make a hit TV show” out the window. It is a mafia story filled with surly men, bloody gang fights and epic shoot-outs – which, yes, is a mainstay of TV programming. But the radical twist is this: the two main characters are a mafia boss’ son (played by Mile) and his male bodyguard (played by Apo) who – surprise, surprise – fall in love with each other.

In the history of TV, there has never been a hit crime series centred on a gay plot. But when KinnPorsche debuted in April 2022 on Thai TV and global streaming service iQiyi, it almost instantly became the top trending title in neighbouring countries such as Singapore, Indonesia, Malaysia, Vietnam and the Philippines.

Soon after, it claimed Europe, finding particular popularity in Poland, Turkey, Italy and France. Then it stormed its way into North and South America, where it was a top trending topic in the US, Mexico, Brazil, Argentina, Ecuador and Colombia.

No one – not even the cast and producers – thought the show would be this successful. It seems to have fed into some untapped market for female audiences who love action shows, but don’t care to see yet another threateningly perfect actress couple up with their fantasy man.

If you ask any fan what it is about the show that makes them sweat, swoon or quiver with delight, they’ll answer quite simply: Mile and Apo.

Double or nothing

At their photo shoot in Bangkok’s top restaurant Nusara, which overlooks the splendid temple complex Wat Pho, the models-turned-actors are in their element. They tailor their bodies and facial expressions instinctively for the camera, conveying a range of emotions, from sultry and mysterious to bright and playful. The slinky Dior suits, with their clean lines and minimal embellishments, don’t hurt either.

Mile (or Phakphum Romsaithong) and Apo (or Nattawin Wattanagitiphat) recently released their new film Man Suang in cinemas. It is a big-budget political thriller set during the 19th century reign of Rama III, replete with historically authentic sets and costumes.

Apo plays a traditional dancer who is recruited to spy in an elite club and uncover a plot to overthrow the order of the king. Finding a kindred spirit in the club’s taphon drummer (played by Mile), the two team up to stop the underground rebellion.

Speaking with the help of a translator, Mile, 31, explains: “We hope the movie reaches out to a wide audience. We wanted it to have both commercial and critical success, something that could show Thai history and culture to the world, but also be fun and entertaining enough to be a popcorn movie for the masses.”

Both actors note how T-pop (the shorthand for Thai popular entertainment) has been hyped as the next global sensation after K-pop and J-pop, following the massive success of Thai stars such as Lisa Manobal, Bright Vachirawit and Win Opas-iamkajorn.

“And it can happen,” says Apo, 29, also through a translator. “Thai people are very humble, gentle, hardworking and friendly. We can blend into any culture. If anything, Thailand has served as a melting pot for different cultures – just as Singapore has. Our culture can be easily embraced by the world.”

The duo believes that the global audience has transformed in recent times. “They’re now more welcoming of stories from different parts of the world, especially if those stories involve characters going on a journey to discover themselves and make themselves better, stronger, wiser and happier,” says Apo. “That’s why when I look for new projects these days, I look for the ones that carry the messages of self-actualisation.”

Mile concurs, adding: “I’ve always believed in ‘high risk, high return’. KinnPorsche was a risky proposition, because it took a mafia crime genre and placed it in the Boy Love category (a niche genre involving gay romance). But I believed in the project’s potential from the start – even if I never thought it’d become the cultural phenomenon that it is today. Its success has only strengthened my belief in ‘high risk, high return’.”

One-two punch

The road to success has been winding for both actors. Though born with the magnetic allure of leading men, they’ve had to work hard to secure roles over countless rivals, as strikingly handsome as they are. Having appeared in smaller parts before, it was the smash success of KinnPorsche – a show that almost didn’t get made because of funding issues – that catapulted them into not just the Thai limelight, but the global stratosphere.

Asked what Dior’s artistic director Kim Jones thinks of KinnPorsche, the duo laughs. Apo says: “We don’t know if he’s seen the show – we didn’t ask him. But we do know that our fans had been bombarding his Instagram account for a while, telling him about us, asking him to check us out, before he signed us up – well, at least that’s what he told us when we met him for the first time.”

“But for all you know, he could be binge-watching the series right now,” quips Mile, prompting another round of chuckles.

As the two men trade jokes in Thai, it’s clear that they share a genuine friendship. Their camaraderie is palpable, adding an extra layer of authenticity to their on-screen chemistry. Their behind-the-scenes antics and playful banter in candid posts have become fan fodder, launching thousands of TikTok videos and memes.

Mile says: “We’ve only become better friends in these past two-and-a-half years. We’ve become more synchronised, and our mindsets and energies are moving at the same pace. I can look at Apo and more or less understand what’s going on in his mind. We have small conflicts, of course – it’s normal among friends – but it’s usually something so minor, we can resolve it quickly.”

The best part of their friendship? Their shared love of dad jokes – that genre of silly, cheesy jokes with predictable punchlines that fathers supposedly love to tell their kids.

But Mile confesses: “I don’t tell dad jokes because I like them, to be honest. What I really, really want to tell are smart jokes, witty jokes… But I’m so bad at making jokes that they always come across as dad jokes, no matter how hard I try.”

Apo interjects: “Do you wanna hear a good dad joke?” Then, switching from Thai to halting English, he says slowly: “Hey you… watch where you walk… or you will… fall… into… my heart.”

[garnetholy]

The First post.

Hi. I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while now. A few things that stopped me were: firstly, I was absolutely not sure that I would be interesting to anyone (to be honest, I still have this feeling, but I decided that this would be my archive of notes, which would be useful to me in any case), and the second reason is that I know for sure that I won't be able to keep any blogs regularly due to my mental state. And I also couldn't choose a nickname... Um... This is definitely the main reason :D

I don't know much about how people usually start blogs (frankly, I don't know much about how to start anything), so I'll just use the first post to introduce myself and experiment with hashtags. So if you happen to see this post, it's nice to meet you.

I won't give my name, but you can call me Garnet.

I'm a girl studying programming in college. I don't really want to be a programmer, but I entered college just to get into something, because I don't know what I want anyway.

English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes (I combine my knowledge with a translator).

I live in Russia, so I often experience different types of discrimination, because it's quite common here. I'm especially personally affected by misogyny and mental health stigma. In my country, we have a little (or not so little) punitive psychiatry, so I can't decide to visit a psychiatrist for a long time, and all my mental problems cannot be clearly named (although I have suspicions). Recently, I finally dared to go to a CPT psychotherapist, but this experience was negative. Maybe I will write about it in one of the next posts.

Next, I would like to write about my health and how I feel.

I will be hashtag all my posts #undiagnosed until I have a medical confirmation of my mental state. So what do I suffer from?

Well, I have been suffering from depression for over five years now (obviously no diagnosis).

I have also always been anxious and withdrawn since I was a child, as far back as I can remember. I had obsessive compulsions as a child, and I still have them now, but in a different form.

I seem to be sociaphobic, every interaction with people brings me some amount of stress.

I am very anxious. I'm not sure if I have panic attacks because I have a hard time understanding the concept. I constantly feel like I don't suffer enough: my "panic attacks" aren't strong enough to be panic attacks, my "depression" isn't strong enough to be depression, my problems aren't problems enough to be problems, etc... I feel like people around me are facing much worse symptoms, even if they describe them exactly the same way I do.

I struggle with compulsive thoughts that pop into my head due to certain triggers or circumstances I find myself in.

I have bouts of derealization and depersonalization (again, no diagnosis, like everything else). I don't know what's happening to me, and it used to scare me in the past, but now I've gotten used to it. I have bouts of terrible fear of death, alternating with... The opposite thoughts sometimes, I don't want to write this directly.

Oh, and the main thing is that for about ten years now the strongest escapism has been my way of life. I don't want to be in reality, I don't want to feel this world, so I spend most of my time (and life) listening to music and immersing myself in my fantasies.

I could describe in detail each of my mental states that I just listed, but I'm afraid it would be too much text for one post. I think I will write about my experiences and symptoms in future posts, gradually revealing more details and nuances if I have something to add.

I don't know if anyone will stumble upon this post of mine, but if they did, I think I would be happy and scared at the same time :D

And please forgive me if I clutter up the hashtags with ADHD and OCD and other diagnoses, because I'm still not sure if I have them, all I have for now is just my own observations. I hope I can find a good private psychiatrist and learn something about myself.

12-01-2025 (dd-mm-yyyy) 04:04 GMT+3

[hypnoticcastiel]

With not much time left to persuade ANY indep/undecided voter and both factions bombarding swing states with ads and events, i can only wonder as a european in what kind of fantasy lala-lands/bubbles the greatest democracy on earth has plunged itself into. On one side you have (and this is all puzzled together according to recent interviews on mainstream media like CNN) a way too strong focus on women issues/female rights with maybe too much celeb performances and too few Harris policy-plan infos. It's one thing to use the catastrophic RvW bs that Trump is responsible for in a targeted form to give women hope but how much does an extreme focus help when data shows/would later show that it also drew away male voters bc they couldn't connect with this 1-topic campaign. On the other you have a strong focus on the so called hyper-masculine (mostly white but recently also black) male voters, religious bigots of a specific kind of christian worldview and of course anti-liberalism nutjobs who think that the country is under the control of jewish space reptiles.

What a fierce combination. Oh how much the small Green party must hate all of this. How many moderates, middle-ground average Joe americans must hate all of this. But the soup is totally overcooked after 8 years, after the Rep party decided behind closed doors to go full force extremist language, extreme prejudice and extreme ways of scheming (including collusion with russian assets) to get Trump into power and keep him there. Bc that's better than losing to social progress and other factors in the world that can't be pushed aside with a classic conservative slogan.

I could write more but neither would it change the head-to-head race til Nov 5th, nor would it matter to BOTH factions. The Dems are in trouble bc they stopped or seem to have shifted focus away from the most average of american(s) and their daily struggles while absurdly trying to make life better for all?! And the Reps sold their little bit of empty brains to the fastfood-fascism in golden TRUMP letters. It was clear that they could win (except the popular vote.....) some races and maintain power in an increasingly divided nation. But they did not foresee or what's the word that the single most egoistic pseudo- politician in american history would throw all of them AND the country's fundamental principles under the bus as long as it gets him a profit, or a free pass from rotting in jail for that horrifying insurrection attempt.

My closing thoughts are about a random average Joe who is a black union car worker in some rustbelt region whatever, who openly admitted to CNN interview that his entire family asked him to not vote for Trump. His reaction should be a warning for all sane americans. He shrugged it off, he said he just wants to provide for his family and that Trump can't literally be as bad as it seems. The Dems can flood his inbox with 100 emails, but a person must have a a basic moral compass and basic intellectual capabilities. This man clearly never read a newspaper with a good investig. report about Trump. This man doesnt care much about the bodily autonomy of his daughter... and so on. Some things can't be changed within one political campaign. You can't win back some complete idiots (despite B. Obama giving a stark message to fellow american black men after recent allegations that sexism prevents them from voting for Harris). My point with this example is: The Dems can't waste time with niche-groups of complete idiots (whether male or female), but must focus every bit of campaign energy on halfway educated middle-class people in the suburbs.

*STOP TRUMP* = *STOP RUSSIA'S ATTEMPT TO DESTABILIZE THE U.S. WITH THEIR ORANGE PUPPET*