#ultranationalist

[alexdeneon]

two bald men

Zakhaevs

[eternal-echoes]

It’s odd how a lot of western nationalists look to Japan as the ideal nationalism. While it’s true that it doesn’t have the problem of mass immigration to the point that it undermines the common good, they still have the problem of shrinking population. So much that there are a lot of abandoned houses because when the elderly population passes away, not enough of the new generation are filling them up. It’s like the worship of something material and man-made hasn’t really generated the propagation of one’s race. Whereas Catholicism encourages people to be fruitful and multiply not just to propagate one’s bloodline but because marriage is perfected through the spiritual education of children. The union of the spouses is not just merely biology, it’s ordered towards taking care of the salvation of the children that come about as a result of their union.

“For God himself is the author of marriage and has endowed it with various benefits and with various ends in view; all of these have an important bearing on the continuation of the human race, on the personal development and eternal destiny of every member of the family and on the dignity, stability, peace and prosperity of the family and of the whole human race. By its very nature the institution of marriage and married love is ordered to the procreation and education of offspring and it is in them that it finds is crowning glory. Thus the man and woman who ‘are no longer two but one’, help and serve each other by their marriage partnership; they become conscious of their unity and experience it more deeply from day to day. The intimate union of marriage, as a mutual giving of two persons, and the good of the children demand total fidelity from the spouses and require an unbreakable unity between them.”

- Gaudium et Spes 48, from Vatican II

Viewing family with the goal of instilling the Faith in children not just for racial preservation answers to the spiritual thirst of human beings because human beings are not just walking bag of chemicals. We’re not just meant to survive, we’re meant to live.

[donotdestroy]

Who betrayed Anne Frank and her family?

[thelightattheendofthistunnel]

what the fuck is happening on f1twt

[shadowbratt]

Makarov’s Right Hand Men

[fixfoxnox]

Can we get more evil Roach 👉👈

Preferably with Ghost and soap (still as good guys) 🥺🥺🥺

Roach's Sweet Boys

Warnings: Dub-con, kidnapping

"Ghost! Ghost! Wake up!"

Ghost comes back to himself slowly, the world around him fading in from the darkness where his mind had been blissfully blank. His throat felt dry and, just based on the taste in his mouth, he knew that he'd been given some sort of drug. He gave a tired grunt at the thought, he hated to admit it, but he was quite impressed with whoever had managed to slip something past him.

He tilted his head up as best he could, his eyes fixing carefully across from him where he could see Soap. His Soap. His face was twisted into a look of panic and concern, his eyes wide and frantic as he struggled against the bonds that tied him to a chair.

That, the realization that Soap was tied up, was enough to fully wake his mind, his body immediately trying to jump into action. He was met with the harsh pressure of cool metal against his wrists and around his legs. A quick glance down told him that, similar to Soap, he'd been restrained in his seat.

"Soap," he turned his attention to the man across from him, he would have to figure out how to get out of the restraints, but the most important thing now would be to check on Soap. "You alright?"

Soap nodded his head slowly, his eyes still wide with concern, "No injuries as far as I can tell, but I don't know how we got here LT. Last I remember we were on base. What the fuck happened?"

Ghost tilted his head back, trying to piece together what had led them to this moment. Similar to Soap, the last thing that he could remember had been when they were on base. They'd been heading back to their shared room, hadn't they? "I don't," he furrowed his brow, pleased when he could still feel his mask firmly over his face. At least whoever had taken them had allowed him to keep his dignity with that. "I don't remember."

"I remember," a playful voice called out, drawing both Soap and Ghost's eyes immediately. The voice belonged to a figure who was familiar to both of them, his eyes glinting with something mischievous from where he was casually leaning against the wall by the door. How he'd entered without either of them knowing was beyond them. "I'll tell you if you ask me nicely."

"You," Soap's voice was low, his eyes filled with rage as he snarled at the man, "You fucking bastard."

The man didn't respond, he simply raised his arm, hiding his laughter behind his hand. After a moment he dropped it, pushing himself off of the wall to begin slowly toward them. "You're so adorable when you're mad."

Soap's face went bright red in response and soon he was spitting out curses, shouting as loud as he could at the advancing figure. The man didn't flinch, his expression didn't change, he just kept slowly approaching them, eventually beginning to circle their restrained forms when he was close enough. He was the picture of relaxation.

"Bastard! You're a fucking monster, Sanderson! A murderer!" That pulled the man to a stop, his entire body freezing in place.

He turned slowly to Soap, tilting his head at him. His face was the picture of innocent confusion, as though he genuinely had no idea what Ghost's boyfriend was referring to. "Murderer?" he took several steps toward Soap, his hand coming to rest at the back of the chair he was in, his face leaned so close that they were sharing breaths. "Who did I kill?"

Soap's face twisted up further, "You don't even remember? Gaz, Makarov? Both of them are gone, dead because of you!"

There was a pause, Sanderson blinked at him with wide eyes before his face split into a grin. He pulled back with a giggle, waving his hand at Soap as though he'd just told the funniest joke in the world. His laughter rubbed at Ghost wrong. Gaz and Makarov had been their friends, and here this fucking lunatic was, laughing about their deaths.

"It isn't funny," he bit out lowly, his voice harsh. It seemed like him speaking for the first time was what it took to bring the man back to reality.

He looked between the two men with a wide smile, "The two of you are so silly. So silly and so cute." He took several steps toward Ghost, quickly plopping himself down in his lap to lean back against his chest with a dreamy sigh, "I'm going to enjoy having the two of you so much."

Ghost was tense, his eyes darting to Soap's frantically. They met eyes and Ghost knew that they were both thinking the same thing. What the fuck was happening?

"Get off of me," Ghost muttered after a moment. Sanderson looked up at him with a grin, his hand coming up to stroke against his masked chin before he was pushing himself up from his lap and making a b-line to Soap. Ghost grit his teeth, anger rushing through his system as he watched the terrorist straddle his boyfriend's lap, his hands stroking along his face and through his hair.

"I have such good news for you sweet boys," Sanderson tilted Soap's face up, burying himself in the man's neck despite Soap's attempt at a struggle. Soap's face was slowly beginning to flush, his entire body jerking and shuttering as Sanderson began to place chaste kisses along his neck.

"Get off of him," Ghost bit out, trying to jerk forward in his seat. The restraints around him held tight.

Sanderson pulled away from Soap's neck, but pulled himself closer to the man, running his hands through his hair as he looked teasingly back at Ghost. "He's enjoying me petting him though," the man pouted. His hands continued running through Soap's hair, occasionally stopping to give a scritch to the area around his ears and around his chin. "He's such a sweet puppy, loves to have someone giving him attention," Sanderson teased.

Soap's face went impossibly redder, embarrassment burning clear on his features. He'd stopped trying to pull away from Sanderson's hands. It was no use and, though he would never admit it, the man's hands through his hair did feel quite good. "You said you had good news for us," he asked, his voice breaking slightly in the middle, giving away just how flustered he was. "What is it?"

"Sweet boys," Sanderson muttered again, looking between Soap and Ghost with a bright grin, "Makarov and Gaz are alive. Alive and safe and here." He looked over at Ghost, batting his lashes at the man as he continued teasing his hand through Soap's hair, "If you say please, I'll let you see them." His eyes narrowed onto Ghost, something mischievous and challenging in his gaze as he added, "Go on, Kitty, say please for me."

[shoechoe]

I have a guess as to how Araki ranks his villains in terms of "evil" because I think it's based on their intention and their worldview just as much as their actions. Like, Diavolo doesn't give a shit about anyone except himself and all of his actions stem from that, so he's designated "Most Deplorable" category despite his actions not actually being as bad or as gruesome as lots of the other villains

[applbottmjeens]

following the makarov reveal and how the modern warfare reboot might be expanding more, i decided to age down the Zakhaev twins and save them as sort of Makarov's last hope for a better world, not really wanting the boys to become a part of the mess that is the family business (i mean, cmon. it's inevitable.) but prepping them nonetheless and mentoring them.

Maybe their uncle's inevitable demise will lead to the two becoming the Gemini Snipers in the future, but who knows!! (I cannot wait for this campaign.)

I guess canonically as of 2023, Kita and Kolya are still lil baby teenagers who are going through a bit of rebellious self discovery.

Kolya is still quiet and shy and more responsible, only thought to be smoking because he was "holding" Kita's cigarettes and vape for him.

Nikita is def the more sneaky, rebellious, social butterfly while Kolya just wants to keep his head down and try not to stand out.

But yeah! The Zakhaev twins are teens as of MWIII and they still v much look up to their Uncle.

[prussianmemes]

I want to thank the IDF and the rest of the Israeli government for having the most out of touch PR department imaginable.

Nobody has done as much for the peace movement and anti-zionist public support as you.

[itsagrimm]

Russian Ultranationalist leader Makarov?

Ingenious. With the new CoD 3 Makarov trailer out I need to applaud CoD publisher Activision for this remade masterpiece of propaganda. what a way to build a villain faction that fits the targeted audience of ALL young US Americans who could enlist.

Obviously the villains are Russian bc communism and red scare and xenophobia and blablabla. Yawn. Nothing new here. Very unfortunate bc there are very valid and critical things to be said about nowadays Russia.

But Ultranationalists? ULTRANATIONALISTS? what a way to say nazis without saying nazis. Bc what exactly is the ideology of an ultranationalist, hm? And why didn't they just call them nazis? maybe bc that would have alienated part of the right leaning target audience?

And then Makarov as the leader of those russian ultranationalists is seen in a prison with a mad amount of prison tattoos bc as a russian criminal that is obviously the only way to look.

summing up we have a foe who is both nazi and communist, steeped in that vintage cold war russia vibe, and a hardened criminal.

bad boy russian ultranationalist Makarov is the swiss army (ha!) knife of made up enemies. Virtually everyone can find something to hate about this guy, making him a genius piece of propaganda creation. but of course its just a fun apolitical game.

[tomorrowusa]

If you shoot down a packed Malaysian airliner over Ukraine, you get praised. If you insult Putin, you're sent to prison. That's life in a hegemonic dictatorship which is Russia these days.

The last time I saw Igor Girkin was five years ago in the stairwell of a Moscow news agency. "Would you consider giving me an interview?" I asked. "No," he replied sharply and scurried away. I saw him again today. No stairwell. This time, Girkin was in a caged dock surrounded by police in the Moscow City Court. Along with other media we were allowed in to film him for just one minute before the end of his trial. A police dog kept barking. Girkin found that amusing. The verdict less so. Minutes later he was found guilty on extremism charges and sentenced to four years in a penal colony. This wasn't his first conviction. In The Hague in 2022, in absentia, Girkin was found guilty of the murder of 298 people: the passengers and crew of Malaysian Airlines flight MH17. The Boeing jet had been shot down over eastern Ukraine in 2014 by Russian-controlled forces in the early stages of Russia's war there. Girkin was one of three men sentenced to life imprisonment. A judgement he ignored. [ ... ] Following Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, ultranationalist Girkin became a prominent pro-war blogger. He became increasingly critical of the way the Russian authorities were waging the war: not hard enough, in his view. He founded a hard line nationalist movement called The Club of Angry Patriots. His problems began when he started to take that anger out on President Vladimir Putin. Public criticisms of the Russian president turned to insults. In a post last year, Girkin described Putin as "a non-entity" and "a cowardly waste of space". A few days later he was arrested. Now he's been tried and convicted.

Four years is a rather light sentence for dissent in Putin's Russia. Journalists Vladimir Kara-Murza was recently sentenced to 25 years and Ruslan Ushakov is serving 8 years – just to name two.

[psqqa]

i refuse to believe any other rock musicians have the vaguest shred of respect for the gavinners. not for whatever musical abilities and sensibilities they may or may not have, but because of the whole shilling for the police thing. also. the name.

[mudvi]

eastern europeans are tolerable in the sense that theyre not like the westeuros or scandinavians who are like Ja my country is so good. its so much better than america Hahahaha school shootings. at least a solid number of eastern europeans are aware we live in a shithole and thats fine. then you ask an easteuro about any kind of political problem and they go Well i think we should start by taking away women and gay peoples rights. Okay. lets die

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

If you take a shot for every Russian Propaganda bullshit you're blackout drunk after the first tweet and dead after the last.

[shadowbratt]

Can we talk about how thick his arms is

The arms

The bulletproof vest

And the SEDUCTIVE RUSSIAN MEAN MUG

🥴

[fixfoxnox]

Ultranationalist Roach x TF141 Makarov? For the “Did someone get turned on by that~?” Prompt 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Luke's Spicy Snippets 12

Prompt: "Did someone get turned on by that~?"

Pairing: UN! Roach/TF141! Makarov

Warnings: Knife Play, Smut, Handjobs, blood, blood kink, cutting, usual dubcon warning for UN! Roach stuff

The knife glinted dangerously in the low lighting of the room, caught on just a flicker of the yellow from the bedside lamp. The edge of it glinted dangerously, but Makarov didn't have to see that to know that the blade was sharpened to a razor edge. He knew it would cut and he knew it would do so easily.

He watched with wide frightened eyes and a low glimmering of heat pooling in his gut as the knife was twirled expertly between deft fingers. It was almost mesmerizing in the way that it whipped around fingers, dangerously close but never cutting. It spoke to the skill of the man straddling his lap.

There was a sudden pause before, in an instant, the blade was swinging through the air and toward his face. It happened so suddenly that he had no time to react, he could only sit and wait for its sting. It never came. The blade stopped only inches from his skin. There was a low tutting noise and the man above him rolled his hips down, pulling a low gasp from Makarov's lips.

The flat edge of the knife pressed against his skin, the cool metal sending a shiver down his spine. "Pay attention, Volodya. Be a good for me, yes?"

"Roach," Makarov choked out the others name as the tip of the knife began to trace down his naked skin. Just a slight bit of pressure from the man above him and he'd be bleeding. It terrified him as much as it made his cock ache between his legs.

"What is it, baby? Hmm?" Roach rolled his hips again, pulling another gasp from Makarov and causing him to buck his hips up slightly. Roach pulled the knife away with a small frown on his face, "None of that. If I cut you, it'll be on purpose." Makarov bucked his hips up again at the thought and he was quick to throw an arm over his eyes, partially obscuring his beet red face as Roach laughed.

"Roach," he whined, his voice high in his throat.

"Aww," Roach gave a laugh and, with one quick move he nicked Makarov's skin just above his pec, causing a small sting and a little well of blood to begin dripping over his skin. Makarov answered the move with a gasp and loud moan. "Did someone get turned on by that~?"

"You're so unfair," Makarov gasped again as Roach leaned down to lick the blood from his skin. Roach didn't dignify him with a response, he just let his mouth press kisses along Makarov's skin, exploring as he liked with a contented hum. Makarov muttered several choice curses toward the man in Russian, knowing that he wouldn't be able to understand him.

It backfired though and soon there was a hand pressed to the base of his throat and a mouth hovering over his. Fear and pleasure continued to swirl together, creating an enticing cocktail as Roach squeezed, cutting off a bit of his air.

"You wanna translate that for me baby?" Roach tilted his head at him and, without looking, he pressed the flat of the blade against Makarov's nipple, pulling a choked gasp from his lips. Makarov could only whimper in response. "If you can't, I'll have to guess and I don't think you said anything particularly nice."

Makarov tried to respond, to come up with some little fib, but he couldn't even speak before Roach was nicking his skin again, only this time he paired the move with a quick roll of his hips. A choked moan pulled from his lips and it was followed quickly after by a whimper as Roach licked the blood from that cut as well.

"Well?" Roach asked, grinning as he licked and sucked at Makarov's skin. Makarov realized too late just what the other man was up to. "I suppose if you aren't going to answer," he tightened his grip against Makarov's neck, "I can only assume the worst."

There was no time for Makarov to plead his case, not when Roach was moving off of his thighs to lower himself down his body. His breathe hitched in his throat as he watched Roach come face to face with his hard and leaking cock. "Oh, wow you really liked that, huh?" Roach gave him a teasing grin before he wrapped his hand, still holding the knife, around his cock.

Makarov gasped and froze as he felt the metal of the knife against his cock. It was the flat side, but he knew that with one wrong slip and he'd find himself at a very awkward hospital visit. Roach only smirked at his reaction before slowly starting to jerk him off. It was delicious and terrifying all at once.

The feeling of Roach's hand combined with the hard and unforgiving feel of the knife was good enough on its own, but the danger of knowing how close the blade was, it was utterly terrifying, but it was also enough to have Makarov shaking and dripping pre-cum over Roach's hand. Roach only laughed at the war that was clearly going on in his mind. He enjoyed watching the mix of fear and pleasure from the man.

After several long moments, Makarov was a whining and moaning mess. He was trying so hard to keep his hips still because he knew that one wrong move could cause him trouble. Roach found his predicament amusing and did everything in his power to make controlling himself harder.

Eventually, Makarov couldn't help it and he gave a shallow jerk of his hips. As soon as his hips started moving, Roach had retracted. It was quite a testament to how much he was truly paying attention. "C'mon baby," he shook his head and gave Makarov a small pout, "didn't I tell you to be good for me? I thought you were my good boy?"

"I am," Makarov answered in a small voice, meeting Roach's eyes with a desperate look. He was trying so hard to be good, he wanted to be good for Roach.

"Really?" Roach traced a finger over Makarov's hip, biting his lip as he did. "Well, you need something to show that, don't you?"

Roach looked at him with large pleading eyes and Makarov knew what he wanted. His body lit up with heat at the idea, spirals of arousal rushing through him. He was practically shaking from anticipation by the time he managed to gasp out, "Yes, please."

"Good boy," Roach praised him, pressing a kiss to the skin of his hip before twirling the knife and bringing it right to the skin where his lips had just been. Makarov could feel the sharp edge of the knife against his skin where it just sat for one long teasing moment.

At the first cut of the knife, he whimpered. His hands shot out, grabbing tight to Roach's shoulders as the younger man continued to draw the knife across his skin slowly. Careful lines and curves that made him shake. He gave several little grunts and groans as the knife continued to dig into his hip.

Roach whispered praise against his skin as he cut, warming his body and helping to send the pain flushing pleasurably to his cock. He was still leaking and hard by the time that Roach pulled the knife away for good.

Roach met his eyes before flicking his tongue out to lick the blood from his knife. Makarov could only gape at the sight, his breathing heavy as he watched the other man clean the knife with his tongue.

Moments later and the knife was set to the side so that Roach could lave his tongue over the cuts he's made on Makarov's hip. Makarov yelped at the feeling, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched his lover clean his skin. "Roach," he managed to stutter out as his cock gave a pitiful twitch.

"Such a good boy," Roach placed a kiss to the fresh cuts before leaning back to admire his handiwork. "Now everyone will know just who you belong to, just who's good boy you are."

Makarov didn't have to lean down to know what the other man had carved into his skin. He'd felt every line of the "GRS" as it was cut into his hip. The knowledge that it was there likely permanently sent a pleasured flush down his spine. And, as Roach's mouth slipped lower and fixed itself over his cock, he felt more than a little pleased with himself.

Roach's good boy indeed.