#vast expanse of Russia

[in-sightjournal]

Ask A Genius 1093: Kursk Oblast Incursion

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: What is your assessment of the Kursk Oblast incursion by Ukrainian forces into Russian Federation territory? Rick Rosner: It appears that they have seized approximately 400 square miles of Russian land, which is relatively minor given the vast expanse of Russia, the largest country in the world. The territories captured hold no significant strategic value. However, the…

[theliterarybeldam]

Love Beyond Time - Chapter 1: A Fateful Encounter

It's finally here y'all! Please enjoy something that caused a lot of sweat and tears for me ❤️😭

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this story besides my OFC and potential future OCs. This is purely a work of enjoyment.

Series Masterlist

The heart of London pulsated with energy as Lady Elizabeth Pierce, a woman of resplendent African descent, emerged from her stately home onto the bustling streets. Her radiant skin, as rich as the coffee beans of Ethiopia, contrasted beautifully with her elegant white dress. Her tightly coiled hair was tastefully pinned up, revealing her regal countenance and sparkling hazel eyes. Her mannerisms echoed a bygone era, a grace and elegance that seemed out of place in the current world.

The secret behind her timeless beauty was known to only a few. Time, for Lady Pierce, was a frozen river, her life a pause button that had been hit in her late twenties. Like Adaline Bowman from a story she once read, Elizabeth too did not age. Her tale was not of fiction but her own reality, woven through the warp and weft of over two centuries.

Lady Elizabeth Pierce was born in the heart of Ethiopia, a land teeming with lush flora and fauna, hidden from the world, housing secrets as old as time itself. The vibrant city was an advanced paradise, a stark contrast against the backdrop of its rich traditions and culture. 

Her childhood was saturated with the vibrant hues of the Ethiopian festivals, the thrill of tribal dances, and the wisdom conveyed through the ancient tales of her ancestors. She was brought up in the shadow of the majestic Panther God, always aware of the potent power that pulsed through their lands.

However, her life took an extraordinary turn when an encounter with a revered shaman left her with a cryptic prophecy - an intertwining of her destiny with the enigma of time. This mysterious event marked the beginning of her timeless existence.

Centuries later, as she stood on the foreign land of England, her memories of Ethiopia were as vivid as the sunsets, the rhythm of its pulse echoing in her heart. Her roots ran deep, grounding her to the heart of Africa, regardless of the miles she had traversed since then.

Her transition from a young Ethiopian woman to Lady Elizabeth Pierce of London was a tale of resilience and resourcefulness. With her timeless existence, she bore witness to the changing world around her, her eternal youth a blessing from the shaman that allowed her to navigate the ebb and flow of the centuries.

Embracing her immortality, she used the wisdom acquired over the years to amass knowledge, skills, and wealth. She found herself intrigued by the distant land of England, its culture, its monarchy, and decided to make it her home. With her wealth amassed over the years, she bought land and a stately home in London, her grand residence soon becoming a symbol of her stature.

Her intelligence, charm, and philanthropic nature soon caught the attention of Queen Victoria, who was so impressed by Elizabeth's contributions to society that she bestowed her with a title, officially making her Lady Elizabeth Pierce. Over time, she became a figure of fascination and respect, her seemingly eternal youth adding to her aura of mystique. However, she kept her secret carefully guarded, the mystery of her agelessness becoming an unsolved riddle in the heart of London.

Away in the frosty expanse of Russia, Count Alexei Vronsky led a life of solitude in his vast estate. Since the tragic end of his tormented affair with Anna Karenina, he had withdrawn from society, living with the ghosts of their past. However, the news of a grand ball in London, hosted by the illustrious Lady Pierce, coaxed him out of his reclusion.

As Vronsky embarked on his journey from the frost-laden expanse of Russia to the buzzing metropolis of London, he found himself in a state of melancholy contemplation. The biting cold of the Russian winter seemed a reflection of his own solitude, its icy grasp mirroring his internal chill.

The trip was long, the scenery changing as he moved across the continent. The vast Russian plains, stark and blanketed with snow, slowly gave way to the greener landscapes of Eastern Europe. The monotony of the endless expanses was occasionally broken by huddled villages and bustling towns. The harsh Russian winds slowly softened, replaced by the crisp, cool air of the west. Each part of the journey echoed his solitude, whispering tales of his past, stirring memories he had long since tried to bury.

He passed through cities that bristled with life, each one a stark contrast to his current emotional state. The elegance of Vienna, the charm of Paris, the majesty of the Swiss Alps - these places, magnificent as they were, held no joy for him. They were but waypoints on his journey, devoid of the warmth of home, echoing his own emptiness.

His arrival in London marked a significant shift in his journey. The city was a vortex of energy, teeming with life. Its grand architecture, the bustling streets, the rhythmic hum of the city - everything felt different from his homeland. Yet, as much as it was disconcerting, it also offered a glimmer of hope, a chance for a fresh start.

As he moved through the city, taking in the unfamiliar sights and sounds, Vronsky couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity. His heart, which had been in a state of icy numbness, seemed to thaw slightly. Here, in this city of endless possibilities, perhaps he could find solace, perhaps he could escape the shadows of his past.

The grand ball held by Lady Elizabeth Pierce was a spectacle of elegance and sophistication. Every detail was meticulously curated, each element a testament to Elizabeth's exquisite taste and attention to detail. The grand mansion was transformed into an extravagant carnival, its opulence matching that of the royal court.

The grand hall was illuminated with hundreds of glistening chandeliers, their light casting a soft glow on the assembly of distinguished guests. Nobles from the length and breadth of England and from continental Europe filled the hall, their gowns and suits adding a vibrant palette of colors against the rich tapestry of the mansion.

A live orchestra was stationed at one end of the hall, the music they played was a captivating blend of classical and contemporary tunes. Their melodies filled the air, adding to the cheerful buzz of the gathering. Couples twirled on the dance floor, their movements fluid and graceful, mirroring the rhythm of the music.

Servers, dressed in pristine white uniforms, moved around offering a plethora of delicacies. The aroma of roasted meat, baked goods, and exotic spices wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of fine wines and perfumes.

Conversations ebbed and flowed around the grand hall. From political debates and discussions of recent literature to harmless flirtations and whispers of latest scandals, the gathering was abuzz with engaging dialogues. Laughter rang out, toasts were raised, and connections were formed.

Entering the lavishly decorated ballroom of Lady Pierce's mansion, Vronsky was greeted by the intoxicating music of the orchestra and the heady scent of perfumes. However, it was Lady Pierce's striking beauty that held him captive. Poised and graceful, she navigated the throng, engaging with her guests, her lively eyes taking in the merriment. She was the perfect hostess, her aura commanding respect and admiration from her guests. Vronsky almost started to believe this was a goddess idly chatting with people who were truly clueless to who that was. 

The grandeur of the ball was momentarily forgotten as Elizabeth's gaze locked with the newcomer's. There was something hauntingly familiar in the man's eyes that drew her in, a sense of shared solitude that resonated with her own. She gracefully navigated through the crowd to introduce herself.

"Count Vronsky, I presume?" Elizabeth said, extending her hand in greeting. 

He took it, bowing slightly, his eyes never leaving hers. "Yes, and you must be the enchanting hostess, Lady Elizabeth Pierce."

Elizabeth gave a small, appreciative laugh. "Flattery so early in the conversation? One might think you're trying to win my favor."

"Only stating the obvious, Lady Pierce," he replied with a half-smile, his eyes twinkling with genuine admiration.

Their conversation unfolded naturally, starting from polite pleasantries and gradually delving into deeper topics. Elizabeth found herself drawn to the man's intellect and his perspective on art, literature, and culture, which mirrored her own. 

"You have quite the appreciation for art, Count Vronsky," Elizabeth observed, referencing their discussion about the Renaissance.

"Only as much as you do, Lady Pierce. It's rare to find someone who appreciates Botticelli as much as I do," Vronsky replied, his interest in her visibly growing.

“There is an agelessness about you. It feels as if you've seen the rise and fall of ages."

Elizabeth met his gaze, a soft smile touching her lips, "Perhaps I have."

They shared light-hearted banter and stories, their connection deepening with each passing moment. The world seemed to blur around them, their focus solely on each other. 

"Do you believe in fate, Count Vronsky?" Elizabeth asked suddenly, her gaze intense.

"I can't say I've given it much thought," he admitted, slightly taken aback. "Why do you ask?"

"Perhaps it is fate that has brought us together tonight," Elizabeth proposed, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. 

This unspoken shared understanding marked the beginning of a poignant bond between the two, a bridge of companionship across the chasms of their solitary lives. Their shared experiences of love and loss, and their ability to transcend them, tied their fates together in a dance as old as time.

As the last notes of music faded away and the merry chatter of the departing guests grew faint, a deafening silence descended upon Elizabeth's grand mansion. She found herself standing in the now deserted ballroom, the echoes of laughter and music only serving as a stark contrast to the stillness that enveloped her. 

The flickering light from the dying candles threw long, dancing shadows across the room, the extravagant decorations now seeming almost eerie in their quietness. Elizabeth's gaze was drawn to her reflection in the grand mirror on the far wall. Her timeless beauty, framed by the gleaming diamond necklace around her neck and the rich silks of her gown, was a sight to behold. Yet, the woman who stared back at her felt like a stranger, her radiant appearance belying the inner turmoil she felt.

Her heart felt heavy with names etched deep within its corners - names of lovers she had once held dear, whispers of affection shared in the silent watches of the night, remnants of love stories that had faded with time. Her life was a testament to the endless cycle of love and loss, each love story a reminder of the agonizing loneliness that followed their inevitably brief existence. 

The grandeur of her life was a double-edged sword, the vibrant celebrations and extravagant balls merely temporary distractions from the solitude that awaited her. As she stood alone, her heart echoed with the melancholy of lost connections, the vacant halls of her mansion reflecting the emptiness she felt.

The fear of losing someone again was a constant gnawing presence, a silent specter that loomed over her every time she found herself growing close to someone. Yet, she also recognized the longing for companionship that tugged at her heartstrings, the yearning for the warmth of shared affection, of heartfelt conversations, of love.

She was caught in a constant struggle - a tug of war between her desire for love and the fear of the inevitable loss that her immortality brought. As the silent witness of passing ages, her heart was an immortal battleground of conflicting emotions, the scars of past losses a grim reminder of her endless existence. Her solitude was not just a condition of her circumstances, but a fortress she built around herself, a protective barrier against the inevitable heartbreak that loving mortal beings entailed.

With the quiet hum of the London night as her only company, Elizabeth settled at her mahogany desk, the flicker from the nearby candelabrum casting a warm glow on the parchment before her. Picking up her quill, she paused, her thoughts lingering on the evening's encounter.

"Dearest Esther," she began, her script elegant and precise. Esther was her oldest confidante, the one person who had managed to see beyond Elizabeth's mask of endless youth and understand the solitude hidden behind it. Their friendship was a source of strength for Elizabeth, a treasured connection that had withstood the ravages of time.

"I met a man at the ball tonight, a certain Count Vronsky from Russia," she wrote, her thoughts returning to their engrossing conversation, the ease of their banter, and the depth she'd seen in his eyes.

"There's a depth to him, a sorrow that resonates with my own," she continued, her quill dancing across the parchment. "He carries the weight of his past like an invisible shroud, much like I do."

A thoughtful smile traced her lips as she remembered his words, his appreciation for art, his passion for literature. "His intellect is as captivating as his charm. His words weave a tapestry of profound thought, mirroring my own fascination for art and literature."

The memory of his gaze, warm yet haunted, caused an unexpected flutter in her heart. "His eyes, Esther, are windows to a tormented soul. I found myself drawn to him, compelled to understand the mysteries they hold."

Elizabeth sighed, her gaze momentarily drawn to the starlit sky outside her window. "I know the perils that lie in the path of my heart, yet I cannot help but wonder. Could I dare to love again? Could I dare to risk the agony of inevitable loss for moments of shared love and companionship?"

Her words echoed the turmoil within her. "I find myself at a crossroads, Esther. To love or not to love, that is the question that plagues me."

She signed off, "Yours always, Elizabeth," before sealing the letter. As she dispatched it to Esther, she felt a strange mixture of relief and anticipation. Sharing her thoughts with her old friend, even in the form of a letter, had always brought her solace. Now, she could only wait for Esther's wisdom to guide her through her inner turmoil.

[agnerd-bot]

Message From: Professor Laurel

Open it?

Yes!< Nah…

Hi there, kiddo! It's me, Professor Laurel! How're ya doin'? You gotta be way bigger than when I saw ya last! I dunno if you remember me after all this time, but I was so excited to hear you were moving here, I just had to whip this little recording up. So let me be the first to say… Welcome to the Demanti Region!

I know that Demanti's a bit… Well, a lot different than the Alola region where you're coming from, but I'd like to think that we've got some of our own charms up north!

Naturally, Demanti's super cold, and covered with ice and snow. We've got vast tundras and gigantic mountains, expansive grasslands and near-endless forests, and we've even got some desert lands here! Demanti's a gigantic place, and I just know you'll find somewhere you'll enjoy walking around. I know I've gotten lost my fair share of times, hehe…

And of course, in all these biomes are all sorts of Pokémon! Across the earth, sea, and sky, these amazing creatures inhabit our world, waiting to be encountered. Some people like to bond with their Pokémon by playing. Others work together with Pokémon to help society go on. And of course, Pokémon trainers strive to the top by battling each other.

And of course, there's me! The Pokémon Professor of Demanti. My specialty is in studying item usage both in battles and in nature! Pokémon are so much smarter than we give them credit for, and they always have new ways of surprising us! In one of my research papers, I actually-

Nido!

Oh, whoops! I've been babbling again, haven't I? Thanks for keeping me on topic, buddy! Hehe! I just know you're excited to start off your Pokémon journey, so I'll keep this as brief as I can. I know your mom filled out most of your paperwork for you, but there is some stuff that I need you to fix up for me. Just the usual stuff, photo, preferred name, height and weight, all that good stuff.

But enough of that boring stuff! Your journey is going to begin tomorrow morning, and I can't wait to see you!

——————————————————————————————————

I've been working with a Fakemon region for a while in my head, and while I don't have a real fleshed-out thing to present to y'all in terms of a full doc or the like, I figured it'd be nice to try to get more of my writing out there aside from Fanservants and stuff.

The Demanti Region is geographically based off of Russia, and culturally is mainly based off of Slavic mythology as a whole, with the three starters being based off of myths such as the Bolotnik, Rusalka, and Lady Midday, the legendaries being based off of Chernobog and Belobog, and much of the evil teams' schemes being centered around trying to take the power of Demanti's legends and use them to reshape the very world in their own image.

If folks are interested in this, I'd be happy to share some more ideas I have/am writing. So far I've only got a handful of stuff written down like the aforementioned Professor Laurel, the two main rivals(one of which is written by @300iqprower), the main protagonist, and the Elite Four. I also got the Regional Fossils, two Eeveelutions, and the final evolutions of the Starters.

It's been a while since I tried working on this story(before I even joined Tumblr) but I hope y'all like this little snippet.

[irithnova]

hey ! You seem to know a lot about siberia so i have a question. When the russians conquered siberia, how much of the indigenous population died, i've heard that actually because siberia is for a huge part non-settled the natives were just overflooded by the russians kind of like in canada but i was wondering if it was true.

Also the cossacks played a big role in the conquest of siberia but i've seen people saying they were russian cossack which i find weird because i was always told cossacks were ukrainians and those who speak russian are just russified due to imperial russia policy. So i wanted to hear your thought because you look like to know about it

I hope it didn't sounded weird or arrogant btw ^^'.

Hey, thank you for this ask.

The Russian conquest of Siberia was a process that happened over several centuries, and it did have significant implications for the indigenous populations of the region. Historical accounts on the casualties can vary though, due to limited records at the time

When the Russians began their expansion into Siberia in the late 16th century, they encountered a diverse range of indigenous peoples. The interactions between the Russians and the natives were often characterised by conflict, disease, and displacement, which of course, led to the decline of some indigenous communities.

We must remember though: The impact of Russian colonisation varied from region to region and depended on factors such as the local policies of Russian authorities, the resistance of the native peoples, and the availability of natural resources in the area.

However, it is widely acknowledged that the conquest resulted in significant demographic changes and hardships for many indigenous groups of Siberia.

Siberia was indeed sparsely populated in comparison to its vast size.

However it's an oversimplification to just say that the reason why Siberia was flooded by Russians was just because Siberian peoples were sparsely populated and "non settled".

Further I have an issue with projecting concepts such as settled or non settled onto indigenous groups. The terms "settled" and "non-settled" are often rooted in a Eurocentric colonial perspective, implying that European-style sedentary settlements are more advanced or superior to nomadic or semi-nomadic lifestyles, and during discussions about indigenous peoples, these concepts are weaponised against them to downplay or even justify their colonisation.

The Russian conquest of Siberia had devastating effects on the indigenous populations. The arrival of the Russians brought deadly diseases that led to a significant reduction in native numbers. There were conflicts and violence with indigenous groups, causing loss of life and displacement. Forced labour and exploitation also took a toll, disrupting traditional ways of life, and many indigenous communities were displaced from their ancestral lands, leading to cultural disruption and challenges.

Regarding the comparison to Canada's history with its indigenous populations, there are some similarities in terms of the impacts of colonialism, disease, and displacement. Both regions experienced significant changes to the indigenous populations due to the arrival of European settlers and the expansion of colonial powers. So yes, it's similar, but not in the way that you said it was (both groups indigenous peoples being "non settled" so that's why they were flooded/successfully colonised).

Regarding the role of the Cossacks in the conquest of Siberia, you are correct that they played a crucial part. However it was primarily Russian Cossacks as opposed to Ukrainian Cossacks.

In the context of Siberian conquest, the Russian Cossacks were an instrumental force in expanding the Russian presence eastward.

On the origins of the Cossacks in case some people are confused: The Cossacks emerged as a social and military phenomenon in the 15th and 16th centuries, primarily in the frontier regions of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, the Grand Duchy of Moscow, and the Crimean Khanate.

Originally, the term "Cossack" (from the Turkic word "qazak") referred to individuals living on the borderlands, often engaged in various military and raiding activities. Over time, Cossack communities formed and theh developed their own structures and traditions. They were known for their horsemanship and guerrilla warfare tactics, which made them valuable assets for the expanding Russian state.

Cossacks were largely autonomous and governed themselves through a form of self-rule known as the "Cossack Host".

As the Russian Empire expanded into Siberia, the Russian Cossacks became instrumental in the conquest of the vast region. They were well-suited for long-distance travel and warfare in the challenging Siberian environment. The Russian Cossack expeditions into Siberia involved trade, hunting, and conflict with local indigenous peoples.

I need to make clear here that Cossacks were/are not a homogenous group. They came from various ethnic backgrounds, including Ukrainians, Russians, Belarusians, and others. While Ukrainian Cossacks were prevalent in the areas of modern-day Ukraine and Southern Russia, Russian Cossacks were more common in the areas closer to the core Russian territories.

I'm also sorry if it seems like I'm teaching you to suck eggs here but I just want to make this clear:

There is a historical distinction between Russian and Ukrainian Cossacks, but it's important to understand that both groups shared similar origins and cultural ties.

As previously mentioned, Cossacks were originally formed in the borderlands of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Grand Duchy of Moscow (early Russia). Over time, they developed different branches: the Ukrainian Cossacks and the Russian Cossacks being two of them.

The Ukrainian Cossacks were primarily based in the territories of modern-day Ukraine and Southern Russia. They played a significant role in defending the Ukrainian territories from various threats, including raids from the Crimean Tatars and the Ottoman Empire. The Ukrainian Cossacks established semi-autonomous communities with their own elected leaders called Hetmans. One of the most famous Ukrainian Cossack groups was the Zaporozhian Cossacks, who were based in the Zaporizhzhia region along the Dnieper River.

The Russian Cossacks, on the other hand, were based closer to the core Russian territories, particularly in the regions of the Don and the Volga rivers. They were instrumental in expanding Russian influence and control over the vast frontier areas, including Siberia. The Russian Cossacks were organised into various hosts (military units) and were involved in both military campaigns and other activities such as exploration, trade, and agriculture.

While Ukrainian and Russian Cossacks had regional differences and distinct traditions, they shared common cultural and historical roots as East Slavic-speaking people.

Note: terms "Ukrainian" and "Russian" Cossacks don't solely refer to the ethnic background of the individuals but rather to the geographical areas where their respective Cossack communities were predominantly located

As the Russian Cossacks ventured deeper into Siberia, they encountered diverse indigenous populations. Yes; the Russian Cossacks played a crucial role in expanding Russian influence and control over Siberia.

The Ukrainian Cossacks on the other hand, had very little involvement in the expansion into Siberia. The majority of their activities were focused on defending the territories of present-day Ukraine and Southern Russia.

So, yes. Russian conquest of Siberia did have a devastating impact on the indigenous populations. It was also primarily Russian cossacks who were involved in the expansion into Siberia, not Ukrainian Cossacks.

However, I do need to touch upon this. Throughout their history, Cossacks have also faced oppression and challenges under the Russian state. They experienced forced labour  and serfdom in the 18th and 19th centuries, losing their traditional freedoms. Russian policies of Russification aimed to assimilate them into Russian culture. Cossack rebellions, like the Pugachev Rebellion, were brutally suppressed. The Russian government also disrupted their communities through demographic changes and curbed their autonomy over time. 

So. In summary:

We can't put a number on exactly how many of the indigenous population died due to limited records.

It is an oversimplification to say that the "non-settled" nature of the indigenous peoples is the reason why Siberia became flooded by Russians 

The Russian conquest of Siberia was devastating on the indigenous populations.

Projecting European colonialist concepts such as "settled" and "non settled" onto indigenous groups ignores their unique ways of life and implies that a European "settled" lifestyle is superior to the indigenous "non settled" lifestyle and is often used to downplay or even justify their colonisation.

There is a difference between Russian and Ukrainian Cossacks, Russian Cossacks were the ones who were primarily involved in the expansion of Siberia.

Cossack groups themselves have faced oppression under the Russian state.

I hope this was helpful.

[dailyadventureprompts]

I was thinking about Duergar after listening to Critical Role S1. I don’t care too much for the blatantly evil brush they used but I still want them to be antagonistic. Reading the Explore D&D article on them I took that and looked for inspiration. I thought a blend of the paranoid police state of Stalinist Russia with the political intrigue and back stabbing of imperial Rome. Vast underground cities of brutalist architecture. A culture of conformity, order and a nihilistic outlook. Atheist philosophy cults of the forge or other practical oriented ideologies. Power by any means is a virtue in this society so mages and warlocks are also prevalent. Holidays and celebrations are scheduled well choreographed events. Individuality is scorned. Even hair styles and clothing are limited and enforced by literal fashion police. Gulags are kept well stocked with routine purges of dissidents and a thriving slave trade. All this keeps their cities nearly impenetrable but also undercuts their expansion. Trade with the outside does exist but it’s extremely bureaucratic. They make FANTASTIC concrete.

Footnotes on Foes: Duergar

The problem with the grey dwarves is that they're a little too close to their surface world counterparts compared to the other underdark Wario fantasy races. There's a literal night and day difference between elves and drow , humans and grimlocks, and to a lesser extent gnomes and svirfneblin, but if you looked at surface dwarves (traditionalist, work in metal and stone, warriror culture) there's really nothing all that different about the Duergar other than a grabbag of magic powers and the Duergar being SUPER assholes all the time, while surface dwarves are only assholes some of the time.

I’ve tried a few different versions of the duergar in my writing including mercenary legions of migratory exiles hunting through the underdark looking to conquer territory, and willing collaborators and footsoldiers for illithid colonies, but I think this ask specifically gave me something cool to work with: A focus on Psionics is what ahould seperate the duergar from regular dwarves, with the totalitarian state described above ramped up to its fantasy world extreme by the fact that the secret police can read your mind, and if they can’t find evidence of thoughtcrime they can use mindfuckery to put it there.  The social conformity is seen as a way of detecting rebellious thoughts as if they were social contagion.

This also gives the grey dwarves a distinct aesthetic that is separate from vanilla dwarves: Crystals, be they shaped into weapons or architecture or floating about the heads of psionic casters, which goes to supplement their already textual psychic powers. As an added means of differentiating them, talk about how duergar metalwork is shit, soldiers wearing slave-foundry pig iron while their commanders wield elegantly carved sceptres of nightmare infused rock.

Also, just to have a bit of fun, have the duergar low-key anxious about the existence of the sky, to the point where many of them believe it's a myth made up to scare them as children.

Hooks:

Despite the draconian control they keep over their own populace, the rigors of living in a realm of ever shifting stone require the Duergar to utilize numerous means to secure the territories around their grim cities: Fortress outposts built to control passage in and out of their cavernous realms, psionicly propelled vessels of iron plate that prowl great tunnels like levitating battleships, treaties and client-state contracts with rival and subjugated creatures set up as buffers. Travelling through underdark controlled by duergar is a different sort of dangerous then normal travel in the below.

Escaping from prison before she could be lobotomized, a powerful psion has made it to the surface world with a gang of fellow thought-criminals, working as mercenaries using their unusual skills and eventually forming a rivalry with the party.

The earth writhes. A series of violent quakes cause damage in several cities across the kingdom, setting off numerous small disasters and the appearance of subterranean monsters that'll keep the party and the powers that be busy for weeks. When the cause is eventually determined, it's discovered that in a hunger for more pisonically charged crystals, a duergar warlord has awoken a primordial which now thrashes against its restraints and shakes the world as its pained excavation continues.

Art

[warsofasoiaf]

Russia has demonstrated that they can inevitably attrite ukraine. defeating Russia would require a radical expansion of ukrainian offensive capabilities far above the threshold that Putin will seek nuclear escalation. unless biden is prepared to end the world (over ukraine and not Chinese Taipei or Israel as he is willing to), how do propose "beating" CSTO .

This is cute. Russian cope always has this distinct flavor of "we're a great power and we can't be beaten," despite the fact that Russia has experienced numerous failures and has largely been exposed as an incompetent military power.

Frankly speaking, CSTO doesn't really need to be beaten. Given that Kazakhstan has dismissed CSTO troops and Armenia largely sees no hope for CSTO, the world has largely seen Russian security commitments as worthless - they are incapable of fulfilling said agreements given that Russia has largely bled out its force in Ukraine. It's a zombie organization, shuffling on in a semblance of life as opposed to an actual living organization. I predict it largely collapses as Russia loses the ability to influence the near-abroad and Central Asia seeks other partners that can actually fulfill obligations to ally nations.

I don't think Russia has demonstrated the ability to attrit Ukraine. In fact, given the numerical superiority, any competent military would have succeeded their battlefield objectives relatively easily, even if they lost the peace and occupation to come after. Avdiivka was supposed to fall - Russia kept saying it was, and it hasn't. As I've mentioned before, Russia is an incapable force conventionally and has been for a long time. Economically, they're weak and coring out their economy to sustain their fool's crusade. Militarily, they're sluggish, uncreative, and reduced to begging Iran and North Korea for aid to conquer a country with a fraction of the size and manpower, had no navy to speak of and the faintest wisp of an air force. In a conventional conflict, Russia has no advantages against a NATO country other than perhaps the zeal to throw themselves on the enemy's spears - an emotion that only comes from the realization that you live in Russia.

Fact of the matter is, revitalizing the defense industrial base and actually producing HIMARS and other quality armaments would be more than enough to destroy Russia, and wouldn't even reach the Russian nuclear escalation as defined in Russian doctrine. Hell, if we actually had courage in our foreign policy establishment, Russia would have been defeated and sued for peace already as the aid shipments quadrupled. That would be better off for the whole world, including Russia. Especially for the minority populations Russia keeps sending off to die so the elites in St. Petersburg and Moscow don't have to feel the consequences of their actions.

I don't fear nuclear escalation because Russia isn't willing to end the world because the elites like having their vast wealth and the wide array of perks that it offers access to. They wouldn't do it just because they can't have Ukraine. Honestly, Russia should count its lucky stars that they have a nuclear deterrent, otherwise China would have invaded it already to seize resources from the Central Siberian Basin. Alas for the rest of us, Russia was free in the 1990's to launch damn fool wars in Central Asia and Eastern Europe to reassert its own imperialist glories, rather than being brought to heel. Alas, now it can continue to pretend it's anything other than a decrepit excuse for a country run by a wannabe tsar with a Napoleon complex crying over the fact that his country lost the Cold War and no one fears or respects the Russian bear. Boo-hoo. In the words of your fearless leader after the Beslan school siege where you simply mowed down your own people because you couldn't handle a single hostage operation: "You've shown yourselves to be weak, and the weak get beaten."

Also, as a pro-tip: the verb attrite means to wear down by use (as in to wear down a tool through using it for hours on end). You want the verb attrit, which means to use sustained offensive pressure to weaken an opponent. You might want to brush up on your English; this goes double against someone who not only takes great pleasure in laughing at Russian trolls but someone who actually studies the terminology of military science.

Cry more, Anon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[puppetkisser]

Found family

Desc: Reader comes across a puppy on a mission, and they can’t bare to leave it there

Fluff, no smut

Simon Riley x reader if you squint really hard, shut your eyes and pretend. The vision was there I promise.

Warnings: animal cruelty (not by the readers or 141s hands, just the puppy’s backstory)

Enjoy.

It was meant to be a straightforward mission — a task of infiltrating an enemy facility to gather critical intelligence on their current leadership. Our objective was clear: get in, retrieve the information, and make a swift exit without leaving a trace. The enemy's base of operations lay hidden amidst the unforgiving snowy peaks of Russia, creating an intimidating barrier around the city.

Our team touched down in an abandoned factory located on the western outskirts of the city, a safe starting point for our covert operation. From there, we needed to reach our secondary destination, where we'd secure a crucial vehicle for our infiltration. Time was of the essence; every second counted, and we had to avoid detection at all costs.

As we trekked through the biting cold, the desolate landscape seemed to echo with the harsh rumbling of the wind, and the crunching sounds of our boots against the snow. The icy air cut through our clothing, making it feel like there was no room in our lungs for air. Despite the freezing temperatures, we found some relief with the hot packs we were provided, clutching them tightly in our pockets, desperately trying to preserve warmth.

The surroundings seemed lifeless, except for the occasional snowflake that danced in the wind. The vastness of the snowy expanse felt both awe-inspiring and perilous. The mission had us on edge, our senses heightened, and our nerves taut like strings of a finely tuned instrument. We kept glancing over our shoulders to look for any movement or sound, but the area appeared devoid of life, which seemed even more eerie than before. A lone bird flew overhead, its long, slender feathers trailing in the wind, as if it knew what we were here for.

"I've had my share of cold missions, but Russia always manages to freeze my britches just a tad more," Price grumbled, rubbing his gloved hands together.

Gaz, ever the wit, chimed in with a smirk, "That's why they call it Mother Russia, sir. She embraces you with a chilly hug and never lets go."

trying to keep up the team's spirit, Soap added, "Well, as long as she doesn't squeeze too tight, I think we'll manage just fine."

I managed to sneak in a snicker from under my scarf despite the circumstances. "I'll be sure to remind Mother Russia of that when we're out of here in one piece," I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Price cracked a half-smile, ''Keep your wit sharp. It might just save your hide out here."

Ghost, who had been unusually quiet, spoke up in his low, gravelly voice, "I'd say keeping our eyes sharp is more critical right now. Let's stay focused you boys. We have a mission to complete."As we stealthily entered the warehouse, an eerie chill ran down my spine. The vast space looked empty, but an inexplicable sense of unease lingered, as if we were being watched from the shadows. Glancing at my teammates, their expressions mirrored my own uncertainty.

Summoning my training, I retrieved my scanner equipment, the faint glow of the display illuminating the darkness. With cautious steps, I scanned the floor for any hidden threats, every nerve on high alert. The silence weighed heavily, broken only by the faint hum of the equipment.

As the scanner swept across the floor, my heart raced, half-expecting to detect signs of recent activity. But to my relief, the results came back negative. It seemed we were alone, but the unsettling feeling persisted, like an invisible presence lurking just out of sight.

Captain Price's low voice cut through the silence, "Stay sharp, Something doesn't feel right."

Gaz nodded, his eyes darting around, "Agreed. Keep your guard up."

We continued scanning the floor for further clues. As expected, the room was empty, although it did give off a slight metallic scent, almost reminiscent of old blood. My stomach churned nervously, my pulse speeding. As much as we wanted to take this easy, we had to be thorough, otherwise the intel would prove worthless, allowing the enemies to slip away. We could risk everything on success; otherwise, failure loomed large, the consequence of failure being death and destruction at the hands of the Russian government.

"This place is huge." Soap muttered, taking in the size of the warehouse.

"Yes. But it isn't empty," I replied, scanning the area.

My scanner gave another ping, indicating something in particular had caught my attention. A single small door had been left slightly ajar, and beyond that was the unknown.

"I'm gonna go check it out.." I prepared a flashbang grenade to use as cover should the need arise, in case we stumbled upon hostile personnel. I moved towards the door as the others followed behind me, weapons drawn. Once we reached the door, I carefully opened it wider, just enough for him to peek inside.. hundreds of dog kennels lined the walls of the warehouse, with several pairs of cages lining the walls opposite, each filled with different varieties of huskies. Some dogs looked relatively well trained, while others were barely recognizable as such.

"Fuckin 'ell..." Ghost breathed, looking horrified at the sheer numbers of dogs in these cages.

Gaz nodded grimly, "It's gotta be some sort of a cruel dog training compound.."

"No shit." Price nodded, frowning deeply.

As far as I could tell, there weren't any signs that someone had gone into the warehouse recently, not even footprints.

We shuffled inside, slowly entering the building, careful to remain as silent as possible. The dogs continued to watch us suspiciously, occasionally wagging their tails or barking viciously in greeting. My eyes darted quickly from side to side, ready for anything, but none appeared to pose any threat. We approached the first cage to investigate further, and froze in place as soon as we spotted the occupant.

He sat in the corner, an empty food bowl sat at the opposite end of the cage, a small bowl of water next to it.. he looked to be only 5 or 6 weeks old, a small husky. Possibly the runt of the litter judging by the scrawny physique. The poor thing didn't appear to have the energy to bark.

"They're training them from pups.." Ghost pointed out

"This 's fuckin sick.." Soap whispered, looking down at the small, helpless creature with compassion and revulsion.

There wasn't any question about it; I was leaving with this puppy. This was my own side mission..

"Keep going, I'm gonna stay back here and try to get more information on this compound" I ordered, my voice calm, although deep inside, I felt sick at my guts. "I'll catch up"

The others agreed with varying degrees of reluctance, but I waved them off with a quick "Go". It wouldn't do good to let the others see my anxiety, so I tried to push the emotions aside.

As everyone took off into the next building, I approached the puppy in the cage, crouching down as I extended my hand toward him. He whimpered, turning his head away as if he were afraid to approach me, which I couldn't blame him for.

With a soft grunt of effort, I lifted the cage open and scooped the little dog into my arms. His fur was damp with perspiration, his breathing labored as he struggled to regain his strength.

"Shhh, it's okay... I gotcha" I whispered soothingly, petting his head with my hand. "Just relax for now. You're alright."

After some time, he finally seemed to gain the ability to breathe properly again. He sniffed my jacket curiously, then looked into my eyes, clearly still distrustful of me after the things he must've endured. A yawn escape his lips as fatigue overwhelmed his body. With infinite care, I gently placed wrapped him in a spare piece of clothing, hoping to prevent the poor thing from catching a cold. I wrapped another cloth around him, nestling a heat pack in the cloth.

"You'll warm up quickly. You'll be just fine" I murmured, smiling at him.

As I stroked his fur lovingly before tucking him in my vest and securing him, making sure he could breath, but he wouldn't be seen, the puppy nuzzled against my collar bone sleepily, obviously exhausted. I stood up and began walking out, my heart heavy, thinking about how I had failed to rescue all these dogs. But hopefully when we got back someone would care enough to help.

Back outside, I caught up to the team, having lost track of them in the maze of concrete buildings for a bit, but fortunately spotted them standing by the entrance of yet another warehouse. I motioned them over as I headed towards them.

"Anything?" Price asked as I approached.

"Nothing.."

After regrouping we got on with the rest of the mission, gathering the necessary intel and moving into action to get the fuck out. I could feel the puppy breathing against me, and I held my breath with anticipation. As the team prepared to make an exit, I glanced down and spotted the tiny animal sleeping against me..

We hopped into the getaway car, heading back toward the base. I turned on the radio, hoping to hear news regarding the mission and whether or not we had found anything useful to report..

The ride home was long but uneventful. The sky gradually darkened, and with it, the city lights lit up as the moon rose high in the sky. I was seated between Ghost and soap, and I couldn't stop myself from stealing glances at my new friend who lay peacefully asleep..

"You're kiddin me lass.. You're really taking him home?" Soap asked

"please don't tell anyone.." I said softly, "I don't think he'd survive if i let him.."

Ghost gave me a sympathetic look, but thankfully didn't press the issue further.

Once we reached the base, the rest of the team dispersed. As usual, I stayed behind to collect my supplies, and once I arrived at my quarters, I removed the dog from my vest, placing him gently onto my bed. I brushed the strands of fur back, letting out a sigh of contentment.

This went on for a few days, I had kept the puppy hidden, he still lacked a name however..

In my quarters I tossed a tennis ball at the wall, the puppy darted after it instantly, he carried it in his mouth proudly and trotted back to me so i could throw it again. He dropped the ball and barked pretty loudly, causing a few heads to turn in the hall..

Ghost knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Is' Ghost"

"Yeah, come in." I hummed, he opened the door and stepped inside, Soap following behind.

Ghost glanced around the room, his eyes finally landing on the playful scene between me and the puppy. The little husky was now bouncing around, excitedly wagging his tail, clearly enjoying the game of fetch. Ghost's stern expression softened slightly as he observed the heartwarming sight.

"Seems like you've made a new friend," he remarked, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

I looked at Ghost, feeling a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Yeah, he sort of found me," I replied, trying to downplay the significance of the encounter.

"He's adorable," Soap chimed in, entering the room fully and kneeling down to pet the puppy. The little husky nuzzled against Soap's hand, his tail wagging even faster.

"He sure is," I agreed, unable to hide the affection in my voice.

Ghost glanced at me with a knowing look. "You've been keeping him hidden, haven't you?" he asked, his voice gentle.

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I didn't want to cause any distractions during the mission. But... I couldn't leave him there, you know?"

Ghost nodded understandingly. "I get it."

Soap looked between Ghost and me, realizing the significance of the situation. "So, what's the plan now? You can't keep him hidden forever," he said.

"I know," I replied, my heart heavy with the realization. "I've been thinking about that. Maybe I can find a way to take him home with me once the mission is over."

Ghost sat next to me, the tall man towering over me, His hand snaked over my shoulder, keeping me close.

"Whats is' name?"

"Doesn't have one.."

Ghost's stoic expression softened as he gazed down at the puppy nestled in my arms. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, held a glimmer of warmth as he observed the tiny creature.

"Doesn't have one, huh?" Ghost repeated, his gravelly voice tinged with curiosity.

I nodded, a touch of sadness in my eyes. "Yeah, I found him in that warehouse, and he was all alone. I don't think anyone bothered to give him a name," I explained.

Ghost leaned in slightly, reaching out to gently stroke the puppy's soft fur. The little husky looked up at him, his eyes full of trust, despite everything he had been through.

"Well, he's not alone anymore," Ghost remarked, a faint hint of a smile forming on his lips.

I couldn't help but smile at Ghost's words. It was true; the puppy and I had formed an unexpected bond amidst the chaos of the mission. He had become my loyal companion, and I had become his protector.

Ghost's eyes met mine, and for a moment, there was unspoken understanding between us. He knew the significance of this little life, and he knew that I would do everything in my power to ensure his safety.

"I guess it's time we change that," Ghost said, breaking the silence. "How about 'Scout'? Seems fitting for a little traveler like him."

"Scout," I repeated, the name rolling off my tongue. It felt right, a perfect representation of the puppy's adventurous spirit and his role in our story. "I like it. Scout it is."

As the days passed, Scout's presence within Team 141 became more apparent. His playful antics and affectionate nature had a way of melting the ice around even the most hardened soldiers. Everyone but Price knew about him..

One afternoon, as we returned from a particularly intense mission, Scout excitedly bounded toward us having escaped my quarters, his tail wagging furiously. He had a keen sense of recognizing the sound of our approach, and he always greeted us with enthusiasm, as if celebrating our safe return. It was as though he understood the significance of every mission and appreciated our commitment to each other's safety.

As we entered the base, Scout followed closely, as he always did, earning smiles and affectionate pats from the team members. I couldn't help but worry about what Captain Price might say when he discovered our little secret.

However, my concerns weren't soon put to rest. As we reached the common area, Captain Price was there, deep in conversation with Ghost. Scout, seemingly unaware of the captain's authority, stopped at his feet. his tail still wagging but his demeanor more cautious.

Captain Price looked down, his eyes falling on Scout, who stood there with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Price's brow furrowed for a moment, but to my surprise, his expression softened as he observed the little husky.

"What's this, then?" Price inquired, his tone not quite as stern as I had anticipated.

I stepped forward, bracing myself to explain. "Uh, sir, this is Scout," I said, gesturing to the puppy. "I found him during our last mission. He was alone in an abandoned facility, and... well, I couldn't leave him there."

Price nodded, his gaze still fixed on Scout. "I see," he said, and to my surprise, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. "He's a tough little thing, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir," I replied, relieved that Price didn't seem overly upset. "He's proven to be quite resourceful and loyal."

Price glanced at Ghost and then back at Scout. "Well, we could all use a little lift now and then," he admitted, surprising us all with his acceptance of our furry friend.

Scout, sensing the change in atmosphere, seemed to be excited, pawing at prices legs as he scratched behind his ear

" I suppose we could use a morale booster," Price said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Just make sure he doesn't get in the way during missions."

I couldn't believe my ears. Captain Price, was surprisingly okay with having a puppy on the team.

"Don't worry, sir. He won't be a burden," I assured him gratefully. "He's smart and well-trained."

Price nodded, then turned back to Ghost. "Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't chew on anything he shouldn't," he said, only half-joking

That was it then.. Scout was part of 141... I smiled, relieved that things were going smoothly...

[merrymorningofmay]

"russian culture is vast and well-known because it's all stolen by way of colonial expansion" – an oversimplification, only partially correct

"russian culture is vast and well-known because russia historically has had more money and resources to promote it, which they stole by way of colonial expansion" – also an oversimplification but a bit less so

[fratboykate]

So what's the KYMAU reunion like when Yelena gets back from Russia? The first time Yelena sees Ri again? Awkward or easier than thought?

Can I just say…no one does drama or angst or heartache like you and I just love you for it. The suffering is real. How do Kate and Yelena ever find their way back to one another? Poor Ri, getting abandoned like that 😭 Yelena just peaced out without telling them. K&Y’s little email exchange breaks my heart.

---

Love how toms whole argument each time has been "we fucked". Also laughing at the idea of Kate and Tom sleeping together quite regularly and her dropping his petty ass as soon as yelena comes back into the picture. How does it go down when he realizes she's in New York again?

---

You do know how to bring the drama! I love it! So does Tom think he’s got a proper shot again now that yelena is out of the picture (for now...) what’s his reaction to when she comes back?!

///

This is another prompt mega-combo. Here's 7k of Yelena coming back from Russia and how that all goes down.

---

Yelena sits by the small oval window, her eyes fixed on the vast expanse of clouds stretching out across the horizon. Her mind is a whirlwind of thoughts as she reflects on the recent events that have upended her life. The people she met and the progress they made together to bring positive change to Russia and beyond fill her brain. Under Yelena's steadfast guidance, the legal department at EcoShield Russia evolved into an unstoppable force and their victories were becoming too prominent to ignore. They were suddenly at the forefront of successful Russian environmental advocacy, championing and winning battles for causes like protecting landowners' rights to grow forests on lands listed as agricultural. This once-illegal act, previously met with hefty fines and land seizures, was now allowed thanks to Yelena’s work. It had been an arduous battle, but her unyielding determination led them to triumph. Yelena repeatedly took the government to court and unexpectedly began amassing rare victories for environmentalism. However, her success came at a steep price.

Mere days after her last win, the authorities labeled Yelena a "foreign agent," accusing her of engaging in "subversive activities" aimed at "harming Russia." False charges of espionage loomed ominously over her, and the government sought to swiftly apprehend her. Thankfully, an ally within the police force alerted her organization, giving them precious time to arrange her escape. In a daring operation, they whisked Yelena away to the Russian-Finnish border, where she crossed over to safety, narrowly evading capture. It was a close call. That single phone call spared her from execution or, at the very least, many grueling years of imprisonment at a hard labor camp.

In Yelena's absence, the government held a hasty and unjust trial, stripping her of Russian citizenship. Fortunately, also being an American citizen spared her from statelessness, but this ruling meant she could never return to her motherland. The NGO she had devoted herself to, the organization that had become her life, was subsequently targeted in a brutal raid. EcoShield was labeled an "undesirable" and "extremist" entity, accused of “interfering with the legislative process”, and after severe government pressure, they were ultimately forced to dissolve. It was an unfair end to the work they fought so passionately for.

As Yelena gazes out at the billowing clouds, her thoughts are filled with a mix of relief and sorrow. She escaped the clutches of an oppressive regime, but what she lost in the process was immense. As a result of her hurried departure from Moscow, Yelena was unable to return to her apartment, leaving behind all she owned, every ounce of the life she built, and everything she cherished. Currently, her only possessions are what she had with her at the office that day — a wallet, a backpack containing her laptop and work necessities, her phone, and the clothes on her back. She spent uneasy days in Finland, waiting for the American Embassy to issue her a new passport. It was her lifeline, the document that would carry her back to the familiarity of the United States.

Yelena and Kate were...in a better place. A visit to New York was mentioned in passing several times, but no concrete plans had been made.

Yelena explicitly intended to honor her commitment to the organization and fulfill her two-year contract before contemplating her next move. The sacrifices she made when she left the city were driven by her dedication to EcoShield and the cause they championed. She had to see this through. Now, less than nine months later, Yelena finds herself on a plane back home. The circumstances surrounding her return may be far from ideal, but Yelena has faith in the promise of this new chapter.

"Ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We are beginning our final descent into New York City. On behalf of the entire crew, I would like to welcome you to your destination. We hope you had a pleasant flight with us today. As we approach the…"

Yelena fixates on the skyline that emerges from behind the thick clouds. She closes her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath.

Here we go.

---

Kate paces anxiously in the bustling "Arrivals" area of JFK, her eyes darting between the carousel where the luggage of Flight 847 arriving from Helsinki starts appearing and the door through which passengers emerge. While antsily chewing on her fingers, she unintentionally ruins the expensive manicure she got the previous night. Her sole focus now is spotting Yelena in the throng of people. Kate needs to make sure she doesn't miss the blonde because Yelena has no idea she should be looking for Kate.

While Kate and Yelena hadn't explicitly discussed Kate coming to the airport, Kate knew the exact time of Yelena's arrival. With a quick Google search, she found the flight Yelena was on.

At some point, while she tracks the eight-hour flight, Kate decides she needs to be there when Yelena lands. Anything else would feel wrong. But Kate reminds herself to remain composed, to stay strong. She's not going to become emotional. She's here solely to pick Yelena up from the airport. That's it. Nothing more.

As Kate's pacing intensifies, the tension becomes almost unbearable. Just as she feels on the verge of bursting…there she is. Kate hasn't seen Yelena in eight months, three weeks, and two days. And now...there she is. That’s Yelena, walking to the exit, wholly unaware she’s being watched. It takes a beat for Kate to snap out of her trance and realize she needs to move her feet if she has any shot of catching Yelena before she hops into a cab.

Clumsily dodging people through the crowd, Kate speedwalks in Yelena’s direction. Just as Yelena is about to reach the doors and disappear in the chaos of the sidewalk, Kate musters the courage to call out her name.

"Yelena."

Yelena could recognize that voice anywhere. She stops in her tracks and her head whips around. She doesn't know the source of the familiar pitch, so she looks in every direction.

"Yel."

Kate calls out once more. Confused, Yelena scans the area until she finally pinpoints that the sound is coming from her left. She turns, and...there she is. There's Kate, speedily approaching with a bright smile.

Kate promised herself she wouldn't become overwhelmed, but the way Yelena looks at her, as if she's the most precious thing she’s ever laid eyes on, breaks that resolve. A wide, borderline cartoonish smile spreads across Kate's face. This is already going nothing as planned. She realizes that since her intention to "keep cool" has gone awry, then she should at least keep it in check otherwise. Whatever you do...don't touch her.

Kate closes the distance and her arms instinctively wrap around Yelena's neck, pulling her into a tight hug. FUCK. There goes that plan too.

Yelena drops the small rucksack she carries with the bare essentials she bought to survive for a few days in Helsinki and embraces Kate in return, their bodies finding solace in each other's presence.

They stand there, anchored by the door for what feels like an infinity. This is a real coming home. Annoyed passengers and families navigate around them as they try to enter or exit the area. Eventually, Kate regains her senses and takes a step back, attempting to reclaim her composure and don a more stoic demeanor. She tries to pretend that the effusive outpouring didn't just happen. She must salvage some of her dignity.

"Welcome to New York. I hope your flight was enjoyable.” Kate manages to utter in her most professional, corporate-speak style.

Yelena chuckles softly.

"Thank you?...It was long but good."

"I...uhm...my car is...garage. Yeah. It's in the garage. Parked. There." Kate stumbles over her words, feeling flustered.

Yelena nods.

"Okay."

Kate starts walking and Yelena follows closely.

"You didn't have to come. Thank you...but you didn't have to." Yelena expresses with undeniable gratitude.

Kate stops abruptly and turns around so fast that Yelena nearly collides with her. Overwhelmed by the rush of emotions, Kate's need to embrace Yelena takes hold anew.

"You could've died. I could've never seen you again." Kate whispers into Yelena's ear, her emotions betraying her.

Yelena wraps her arms around Kate a second time.

"But I didn't. I'm here." Yelena leans back to look at Kate reassuringly. "I'm here...and I'm not going anywhere."

"Ever?" Kate asks with trepidation.

"Never." Yelena affirms, her gaze steady and unfaltering.

They stare at each other, their eyes conveying millions of unspoken things. After a long beat, Kate steps back, the intensity of the moment giving way to a mix of relief and anticipation.

"Traffic's going to be a nightmare if we don't go." Kate half mumbles, attempting to regain her composure and shift the focus back to practical matters.

"Yeah." Yelena agrees with a touch of humor.

Kate, still holding onto a tinge of vulnerability, doesn't step ahead of Yelena this time. Instead, they walk side by side toward the parking lot, and quiet settles between them. This is a testament to the unassailable bond that’s weathered the storm.

---

As they make their way back to the city, the atmosphere inside the car is heavy with a comfortable silence. The half-hour ride back is not awkward or tense. They're content to be together in the same place. It's just...silent. They're both lost in their thoughts, unsure of where to even begin.

"You want food?" Kate randomly poses the question as they drive down the freeway.

"I'm not starving, but I could eat. I could at least use something to drink."

Kate hastily crosses four lanes of traffic to catch the exit that is a few hundred feet in front of them, causing Yelena to reflexively grab the door handle tightly. Cars honk aggressively at them.

"We can't eat if you kill us first, Kate Bishop." Yelena facetiously chastises her. Kate grimaces, realizing what she’d done.

"Sorry." Kate looks at the road then nervously bites her lip. "It's been a while...since you said my full name...It's been a long time."

Kate glances at Yelena, who smiles at her and then looks away.

"I missed it."

Kate bites the inside of her cheek in an attempt to ensure her smile doesn't take over her entire face.

"I missed it too."

As they exit the freeway, Kate spots a mediocre chain restaurant and pulls into the parking lot. It's not the best option, but it'll do.

---

Minutes later, Kate and Yelena sit silently, staring at the menus in their hands. Kate abruptly closes hers and looks at Yelena.

"She doesn't know you're here." Yelena looks up, sees the seriousness in Kate's eyes and closes her menu too. Kate starts rambling. "I haven't told her. I didn't know how this would go, so I wasn't sure what to say anyway. I didn't want to get her hopes up and then have..."

Yelena's hand reaches out and lands atop Kate's.

"It's fine. You did the right thing."

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay."

"A week ago, I was halfway around the world. Now I'm here. It's a lot. I get it. I don't want to rush you or her into anything. We can take our time, figure it out, and then we can fill her in if there's anything she needs to know. There's no rush. Like I said, I'm here and not going anywhere."

"Only because they basically ran you out." Kate adds, slight bitterness in her delivery. She quickly catches herself. "Sorry. That was mean."

"I deserved that. And you're not wrong. I'd still be in Moscow if that hadn't happened...But I'm here now. Whatever the circumstances, I'm here now and that's not going to change."

"Promise?" Kate probes timidly and vulnerable.

"I promise."

Kate nods. The only way she can avoid Yelena's intense stare is to hurriedly turn back to her menu, pretending to read it to hide her emotions. Yelena smirks and follows suit, picking up her menu as well.

---

They eat quietly, the primary sound at their table being that of forks clinking on the plates. The bits of small talk they do make are trivial and forced, like they're avoiding the elephant in the room. "How was the weather in Helsinki?", "How's your mom?", "How was the food at the hotel?". These questions are irrelevant, merely placeholders for the actual conversations they want to be having. The weight of unstated words circles the air, and Kate can feel it pressing down on her. They both know what needs to be said, but neither dares to speak it aloud.

Yelena tells Kate over dinner that she’s booked a dingy hotel room for a couple of weeks. Yelena is now unemployed and technically homeless, so a middle-of-the-road traveler's motel is the best she can do. Kate feels a pang of hurt for some reason. She didn't expect Yelena to stay with her; they never discussed it. In theory, she knew they weren't there yet, but it still stung. Yelena is back but staying at some random place. They practically lived together for the last month Yelena was in New York. Even though the blonde still rented the AirBnB down the hallway, she never used it and slept in Kate's bed every night. Almost every night. Kate should have known something was off when Yelena said she would sleep at her place that one random day. When Kate showed up with Ereka at her door mid-morning, Yelena was gone. The assumption that Yelena would be sleeping next to her tonight or even this week was not something Kate had even considered, but suddenly, now that she knows it's NOT happening, it pains her a little. However, Kate can fully admit her feelings are irrational, and she's trying to swallow them. She has no reason to be upset. Yelena staying at a hotel until they figure out what's happening is logical. It’s the responsible, adult decision, and it makes perfect sense. But Kate, who is known to be anything but logical, is still lowkey salty about it.

Kate drives in silence, lost in her thoughts, as they make their way to the address Yelena gives her for her motel. Kate pulls into the parking lot and parks the car across from the small reception area. They sit in silence for an instant until Yelena breaks it.

"Thanks for the ride and the meal."

Kate shrugs.

"You don't have a job, so...only fair I paid."

Yelena chuckles.

"You drove to JFK for me. I would've spent more on a cab. That deserved at least me paying you back with lunch."

"You can get it next time." Kate's face falls when she realizes the implication that there will be a next time. She quickly checks herself. "Not that there...I mean...um...nevermind." Kate turns her attention to the door with the small neon sign above it that reads ‘Check-In Here’. "Do you...uhm...do you need me to come inside?"

"You don't have to." Yelena pauses for a bit. "But you can if you want. I don't want to keep you from anything."

"Nothing. No. Ri isn't out of school for a few more hours."

"Okay."

"Okay."

They stare at each other, immobile and silent, for some time prior to Yelena speaking anew.

"I should..." She trails off, pulling the door handle, and slightly opening it while undoing her seat belt.

"Right. Yeah. Totally." Kate expeditiously unbuckles herself and also steps out of the car.

Yelena retrieves her bag from the backseat before walking to the reception. Kate follows closely behind, lost in thought. Within a few steps, they disappear into the lobby.

---

The check-in process is smooth and painless. The only thing out of the ordinary was the fact that when Yelena reached into her pocket to pull out her wallet and provide her ID and credit card, her hand brushed against Kate's. It was such a small thing, but it seemed to electrify the space around them.

Yelena is in room 119. They now walk down the first-floor hallway that leads there. They pause when they reach the door, hovering in front of it.

"One nineteen. This is me." Yelena gestures to the door.

"This is you."

They both linger for a beat.

"Thank you. For the ride."

"You said that already."

"I did. But I mean it, so felt necessary to repeat."

"You're welcome then. It was nothing tho. It felt like the right thing to do." Yelena smiles but doesn't add anything. "I should..." Kate trails off and points behind her.

"Drive safe."

"You too." Kate catches her blunder and grimaces. Yelena chuckles. "I didn't...You..."

Kate scurries away, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Yelena watches her go while simultaneously putting the key in the door and pushing it open. Kate's steps slow down, and she walks about twenty feet until something comes over her and she turns on her heels. She marches back toward Yelena, her body trembling with keenness and nerves. Yelena looks confused at the intensity and speed at which Kate is coming at her.

"You..."

Yelena's question gets interrupted by Kate's lips on hers. The kiss is electric, charged with a sense of urgency. Yelena finds herself pulling Kate into the room, dropping her pack with a thud, and kicking it aside. They land on the bed instants later.

Kate frantically tugs at her shirt, desperate to feel the skin-on-skin contact she craves. In a moment of sober thought, Yelena's hands grip the brunette’s, stopping her from going any further. She surveys the younger woman’s blue eyes, reading the unvoiced desires and needs that lay beneath the surface.

"Are you sure?" Yelena half whispers, her cadence soft.

"No. It might be a terrible idea. But right now, I need you inside me more than I need to think.”

Without another word, Yelena leans in and kisses her deeply, the urgency of their zeal taking over. Within seconds, Kate is naked beneath her, their bodies entwined in ardent passion.

---

Two hours later, their bodies intertwined and breaths gradually steadying, Kate rests her head on Yelena's naked chest and her hand traces lazy figures on her toned stomach. Yelena's fingers caress Kate's back, creating a pacifying pattern. Yelena presses a tender kiss to Kate's head and then turns to look at the old digital clock on the bedside table.

"You probably need to go get Ri soon."

"Yeah." Kate agrees while her mind races. She turns and props herself up on her elbow, resting her head on her hand while looking down at Yelena. "Come home."

"What?" Confusion flickers in Yelena's eyes.

"You're not leaving again, right?"

"No." Yelena shakes her head, speaking barely above a whisper.

"Then come home. Why spend two weeks here? Why bother finding another place? If you promise you're not going anywhere, just...come home."

"What about Ri?"

"Having you home would make her even happier than me…She misses you. Hasn't been the same since you left."

Yelena averts her gaze, remorse evident in her expression.

"Maybe she needs time. She doesn't even know I'm here."

"If she hates it, I'll drive you back here myself...but I have a feeling she won’t. You can be with us, in my bed, instead of this shitty box spring that reeks of cigarettes."

"It does smell in here."

They stare at each other and laugh.

"I want to do right by her." Yelena's eyes scan Kate's face. "I promise that if you let me back into your life, her life, I won't ever do anything to hurt her again. I won't leave again. You'll have to kick me out if you want me gone."

Kate smiles.

"Promise?"

"I've never been more serious about anything in my life."

Kate's smile widens.

"Then come home. I don't want to stop doing...that...ever, but I'm getting old and there's only so much my back can take. This mattress is not back-friendly. My bed is much more conducive to you having your way with me...However you want."

"That's a sales pitch if I've ever heard one." Yelena chuckles.

"Should we go get our girl?"

Yelena nods as she lifts her head, meeting Kate's lips in a torrid kiss. In an instant, Kate is on her back once more. They indulge their lust for two more orgasms before finally leaving the room.

---

Kate stands near the school entrance, her heart pounding with uncertainty as the final bell reverberates through the buzzing corridors. Eager young voices fill the air, their excited utterances rising in crescendo. Among the lively group, Ereka emerges, her bright green eyes scanning the surroundings until they lock onto Kate's familiar figure. A radiant smile illuminates her face, and she hurtles toward her mother with a burst of youthful energy. She’s a force of nature in motion. Kate gracefully lowers herself into a squat to meet Ereka at eye level.

"Mommy, guess what? I got a sticker for my counting and numbers today!"

"That's amazing, baby! Congratulations. I'm so so proud of you."

Ereka's euphoria at her accomplishment becomes palpable.

"Can you make Mac and Cheese later? Only the best in class get a sticker, so I win a prize. Anything I want."

Kate chuckles.

“I’ll make you some Mac.” Ereka does a celebratory dance. “Hey...I have something I want to talk to you about." Kate speaks the words with slight trepidation as she adoringly glides her hands up and down Ri's arms.

"Okay. What is it?"

"You know the little bakery down the block?"

"Are we getting treats?!”

"We can." Kate’s smile grows at how Ereka lights up. “But here’s the thing…there's someone special waiting for us there right now."

"Is it Daddy?"

Kate hides her grimace.

"No. It's not your dad, baby.”

"Suzu?" Ereka ripostes immediately.

"Not Suzu either...I want you to know that if you don't want to see this person, we don't have to. Okay? You can tell me and we'll go home."

"Who is it, Mommy?”

Kate pauses, her gaze softening as she takes in Ereka's face. After a beat, she speaks.

"Yelena's back and she would really love to see you." Silence hangs in the air as Ereka ponders the revelation. "How do you feel about that?" A nonchalant shrug is Ereka's initial response. "Do you want to go home, then?” Kate offers, ready to respect Ereka's wishes. Ereka takes her time, clearly thinking. After a long beat, she shakes her head. "Do you want to go see her and then decide how you feel?” Another thoughtful pause ensues, Ereka carefully weighing her options. Eventually, she nods in agreement. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

It takes a lot to render Kate's kid speechless, but the fact that she's not really talking right now lets Kate know she's having some very big feelings. Kate recognizes the depth of Ereka's inner turmoil, acknowledging her child's need for processing time. With a delicate kiss on Ereka's cheek, she conveys both love and understanding.

"If you want to leave at any point, just tell me, okay? We don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Ereka offers a nearly imperceptible nod, a sign of acceptance. Kate understands that’s probably as much as she’s going to get right now. As their hands intertwine, she guides them away from the school grounds and on the short trek down the street.

---

Yelena anxiously taps her foot on the floor, a manifestation of the nerves coiling within her. She's more nervous than she can remember being in a long time. She's prepared for this to take a while, for Ereka not to warm up to her immediately. Frankly, it's what she deserves. She's ready to face the consequences of what she's done. She's also prepared to do whatever it takes to get that kid to love her afresh. It's become her number-one priority in life.

The door chimes, breaking the silence, and Yelena's gaze snaps to the entrance. It’s been nine long months since she last laid eyes on Ereka.

Sure, she's seen her in photos or stories Kate has posted on her Instagram, but she’s never been around whenever she’s Facetimed Kate since they started talking. Kate has been cautious and protective of Ereka this entire time, which only adds to Yelena's anxiety. And now, there she is, walking towards her. Yelena’s heart pounds in her chest, threatening to burst free. Yelena jumps to her feet and stands by the table, waiting for them to approach. Uncertain of what to do with her hands, she awkwardly stuffs them into her pockets.

Kate senses the palpable trepidation emanating from Yelena and offers an affable smile, attempting to ease the woman’s tension. Ereka's facial expression remains impassive, her face a mask devoid of emotion. As they approach the table, Kate mouths a soft "Hi", deftly sliding the straps of Ereka's backpack off her shoulders and setting the bag down on the floor. Squatting beside Ereka, Kate holds the girl’s hand in a heartening grip, a wordless show of support.

"You want to say 'hi'?" Kate whispers lovingly to the now six-year-old with warmth and affection.

Following Kate's lead, Yelena also squats across from Ereka. The young girl's gaze shifts between Kate and Yelena, holding their eyes briefly then she speaks, her words laced with an accusatory tone.

"You missed my birthday."

Kate bites her lip, stifling a chuckle.

"I did. I'm sorry." Yelena offers a sincere apology.

Ereka's glaring at Yelena intensifies.

"You made my mommy cry. A lot. She drank a lot of wine too. They weren't big days and it didn't even make her happy. Wine always used to make her happy."

Her words hold weight beyond her years. Yelena and Kate's eyes lock. Yelena's expression shifts to one of regret, while Kate feels exposed.

"I won't ever make your mommy cry. Not if I can help it." Yelena pledges, sincere and remorseful.

"Do you still have your job far away?" Ereka's curiosity lingers as she inquires further.

"No." Yelena shakes her head. "I'm back in the city for good."

Ereka's attention turns back to Kate, seeking affirmation. Kate offers a tender smile, assuring her everything is okay. The little girl then redirects her attention to Yelena, her question brimming with hopeful excitement.

"Will you wash my hair and do bedtime again?"

"Whenever you want me to."

Ereka pauses once more, thinking.

“You missed my birthday, but you still have to get me a birthday gift. Maybe two because you weren't at my party."

"Ereka..." Kate interjects, gently reproaching her daughter.

"I will. I'll get you anything you want." Yelena promptly pronounces, determined to make amends.

Ereka's face lights up with an idea.

"A little sister?"

"Almost anything."

"A dog." The young girl's glee wanes slightly as she suggests an alternative.

"That's more doab..." Yelena starts to say, but Kate shoots her a fierce look which prompts Yelena to pivot at breakneck speed. "How about I get you any toy you want?"

"I want a sister then a dog."

"I don't think I can get you either of those. But I'll get you ANYTHING else you want."

Ereka ponders for a short time, weighing her options.

"Nope. Those are the only two things. I got everything else on my list at my party."

"Come up with a new list then." Kate sweetly scolds. "And it can't be anything that requires me taking care of it."

"I can take care of a little sister."

"That's not how newborns work."

Kate explains patiently, rising from her squat to relieve her burning thighs. She settles into the chair behind her. Ereka and Yelena remain at eye level, creating an intimate space for their conversation to continue.

"Are you going to leave?" Ereka poses timidly. Less sure.

"No. Not unless you or your mommy ask me to." Yelena reassures her, gentle yet resolute.

"So you'll go back to being our neighbor?" Ereka's inquisitiveness blends with a hint of enthusiasm.

Yelena steals a glance at Kate, seeking permission to share their plan with Ereka. Kate silently nods, giving her consent.

"Well...I don't really have an apartment right now, so I'd have to look for one and..."

"Come live with us. You can sleep in Mommy's bed like before. Or mine. We can share." Ereka suggests eagerly.

Yelena’s smile lights up her face, touched by Ereka’s invitation.

"Would you be okay with that? You wouldn't mind it if I went back to sleeping in your Mommy's bed?"

"No." Ereka retorts without hesitation. "She told Suzu her bed felt too big."

"Ereka...You're not supposed to be eavesdropping when Suzu comes over..."

"Maybe you were talking too loud." Ereka tells her defensively.

"We weren't. We'll talk about this little snooping habit of yours later."

Ereka turns to Yelena.

"Are you going to sleep on Mommy's bed?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Good." Ereka responds, her elation evident. She shifts her gaze to the display cases at the front of the café. "Can we get treats now?"

"Sure. Whatever you want." Yelena remarks, ready to indulge Ereka in whatever she desires.

"ONE, Ereka." Kate declares as Ereka eagerly dashes off to admire the delectable sweets and baked goods behind the glass.

Yelena locks her eyes with Kate’s as she stands. Kate extends her hand and weakly squeezes Yelena's fingers encouragingly.

"That was great."

"Was it?" A tinge of doubt colors Yelena’s words.

"She loves you……We both do."

Yelena can't help but smile, a mix of joy and relief illuminating her features.

"Feeling's mutual all around."

It's Kate's turn to beam.

"Yelena, can I have this one? And this one? And that one?" Ereka rattles on as she points excitedly to the pastries on display.

"I'll be right there."

Yelena moves to the counter, ready to place their order, but Kate firmly tugs her hand, halting her progress. With a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, she beckons Yelena down to her level, urging her to come closer. Yelena does as told and leans in, bringing their faces mere centimeters apart.

"ONE...You better not come back here with more than one." Kate whispers, offering an affectionate warning.

Yelena nods as her heart races in response, her breath catching in her throat while she gazes into Kate's eyes. Unable to resist, she leans in, their lips coming into contact in a tender, stolen kiss.

"One." Yelena murmurs then reluctantly walks away.

Kate absentmindedly taps her phone screen to check the time and instantly gets distracted by the dozens of notifications she's amassed throughout the day. She begins to address them and her attention shifts entirely to her screen.

---

Ten minutes later, the pair of blondes approach the table with a box full of a dozen different pastries in tow. Ereka hops over, excited at their haul and Yelena offers a 'please don't kill me' smile.

When Kate looks up from her phone, she tilts her head and squints, as she notices the oversized box.

"That's a VERY big box to hold one pastry."

"See...the thing is..." Yelena attempts to defend herself and breaks out her serious, attorney voice.

Kate grabs her purse from the table and the tiny purple bookbag that rests next to her then stands and heads for the door.

"I don't want to be mad at you before you even move back in, so please don't say another word." Kate warns, trying to hide her amusement. "You two together are trouble."

Yelena and Ereka exchange a look. Yelena playfully winks at the little girl and offers a reassuring smile.

"She won't be mad when she sees how pretty they are." Ereka tells Yelena almost convincingly.

"She won't." Yelena replies with affection.

Ereka casually reaches for Yelena's hand, their fingers intertwining effortlessly as they stride forward together.

"Can you help me with my art homework?" Ereka looks up at Yelena as they try to keep pace with Kate, whose longer legs make it a challenge for their shorter ones to catch up.

"I’m not great at art, but I'll try my best."

"Good. Mommy's terrible at art."

"I'm sure she is." Yelena says with a smile.

Within thirty seconds, they reach Kate, who steals a fleeting glance at Yelena and offers a flash of a smile then promptly resumes her facade of annoyance as a result of the pastry debacle. Yelena's heart swells as Ereka enthusiastically shares stories from her day at school. She missed this. She missed her girls. And she's thrilled she'll never have to again for the rest of her life.

---

They make dinner as a family, with Ereka perched on the kitchen island while Kate and Yelena work together, joyfully preparing a celebratory Mac & Cheese dinner. The tantalizing scent of fresh pasta, mouthwatering cheese sauce, and sizzling steak fills the air.

Seated around the table, they relish in their meal together, sharing laughter and lighthearted banter. It's remarkable how fast they fall back into a routine, as if no time has passed at all.

After dinner, Kate and Yelena settle at either side of Ereka, snuggled up on the couch, ready for a cozy movie night leading up to Ereka's bedtime. They bask in the warmth of their togetherness, savoring every second.

Sometime around six-thirty, a sharp knock interrupts their tranquility.

"I'll get it." Yelena volunteers, rising from the couch. As she passes by, Kate cheekily taps Yelena's ass. "Behave." Yelena scolds her with a playful grin.

Yelena approaches the door and swings it open to reveal Tom standing on the other side.

"What the fuck?" Tom blurts out. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

At the sound of Tom's voice, Kate hastily pauses the movie and stands.

"Daddy!" Ereka exclaims and perks up. "Can he watch the movie with us, Mommy?”

Kate lifts Ereka from the couch and gingerly nudges her to her room.

"No, baby. I need you to go to your room and start getting ready for bed."

"But it's early!" Ereka whines.

"Now." Kate asserts sternly, conveying there's no room for negotiation.

With a disgruntled huff, Ereka clomps away and down the hallway, grumbling under her breath. Kate rushes to the door to find Yelena and Tom already embroiled in an argument.

"...fuck out of my house!"

"Pretty sure you're not on the lease, so this isn't 'your' house." Yelena counters with defiance.

"You..." Tom's eyes narrow when he sees Kate approach. "KitKat...what's this bitch doing here?" He adds a malicious emphasis to the 'bitch'. "You need to get her away from Ri."

Kate lightly squeezes Yelena's forearm and Yelena turns to face her.

"Can you help her get ready for bed, please?" Yelena glares at her. "...Please."

Yelena shoots one final contemptuous glare at Tom before turning and stomping away.

"What THE FUCK is that?" Tom seethes with fury.

"You need to tone it down. Don't raise your voice at me." Kate warns firmly.

"Then tell me what that fucking dyke whore is doing here."

"Yeah, you're not gonna do that. You're not going to call her names. And you're NEVER going to say those words in front of Ri."

"SHE..."

"She lives here now. She's back and we are back. She moved in today. So...this..." Kate gestures between them, unwavering. "...no more. It’s over. You can't show up unannounced anymore. You can only come over if we’ve agreed this is where you’re picking up Ri.”

"My kid lives here. I can show up whenever I want."

"Not anymore. Things changed."

"I was fucking coming inside you last week. Then you stop answering my calls and now..." Kate apprehensively glances over her shoulder, pushing him away from the entrance and further down the hallway as she shuts the door behind her. Yelena doesn't know that. She doesn't need to know that. "...What the fuck is this shit?"

"I'm doing what's best for me. For Ri."

"Horseshit. BULLSHIT!"

"Keep your voice down." Kate warns firmly.

"What's best for her is her family together, not you fucking off and playing pretend dyke."

"If you say that word one more time, I'm walking back inside."

"Then what are you doing? Tell me." He grits through his teeth.

"Moving on. It's about time we both do that."

"No. No. You're my wife. I don't need to move on from you."

"I haven't been that in a long time."

"Then why was my fucking dick inside you on Thursday? HUH?!" Tom's anger flares up. Tom's hand clenches tightly around Kate's upper arm.

"I need you to let go." Tom glares at her, his grip tightening. "Thomas..." Kate's is stony, as if reprimanding a misbehaving child.

After a beat, Tom releases her. He punches the nearest wall in frustration then leans right into Kate’s face.

"You're gonna regret this. She's gonna fuck you over. I'm not gonna let her fuck my kid up. I'm not."

"Okay. I'm going inside now."

Kate turns away, refusing to engage any further. Tom's demeanor shifts. He becomes softer, almost frail. This is him trying to play the manipulation card.

"KitKat...I need you. I need our family back together. We were so close. We were happy."

Kate doesn't even look back at him.

"Maybe you were..."

"Fuck you." That stings Tom and the words slip out of his mouth.

"Go home. You're picking her up from school tomorrow and I'm getting her from your mom’s Sunday night."

"Fuck her. Fuck all of this."

Kate stands at the door, her expression stoic, wordlessly observing him seethe. He's standing there, face flushed, and breathing heavily. Just by looking at him, Kate can tell his blood pressure must be through the roof.

"Good night. Get home safe." Kate utters calmly while closing the door.

---

Kate enters Ereka's bedroom to find Yelena sitting on the small section of the mattress that's unoccupied. Yelena holds a book in her lap while Ereka wraps her arms around Yelena's waist, leaning on her while she watches the pages as Yelena reads them aloud.

Kate lingers by the door, giving them their moment. Ereka senses her presence and turns to her.

"Where's daddy?"

"He had to go help grandma."

"He didn't say good night?" Ereka inquires, evidently disappointed.

"No, baby." Kate approaches. "Grandma really needed him, so he had to leave. But he sends you kisses and told me to tell you that he loves you very, very much."

"He could've come say 'hi'. Grandma could've waited two minutes."

Kate and Yelena's eyes meet. Kate can sense the disapproval in Yelena's eyes.

"You'll see him tomorrow. He's picking you up from school and then you’ll go stay with him and grandma until Sunday."

"But Yelena's back..."

"And she'll still be here on Sunday. Your dad gets you this weekend."

"But..."

"No 'buts’. It’s time for sleep."

Ereka frowns and huffs, dissatisfied. Yelena resumes reading, trying to distract the girl.

"With steady aim, she drew back the string in her bow, feeling the suspense build. As she released the arrow, it soared through the air, finding its mark with precision. The crowd erupted in cheers…”

Kate presses a kiss to Ereka's forehead and tenderly strokes her leg, soothing her into sleep.

The three of them stay there until well after Ereka falls asleep.

---

Hours later, Kate and Yelena lay in bed spent. Their naked bodies are intertwined and glistening with sweat. Exhausted, Kate drifts to the cusp of slumber while Yelena is wide awake...her mind going a million miles an hour, overflowing with thoughts and worries.

"If we don't check him, he'll be a problem." Yelena murmurs, her words tinged with concern.

Kate amorously kisses Yelena's collarbone, trying to comfort her.

"I can handle him. He's fine."

"Kate..."

"He just needs some time to adjust. We'll be okay. Sleep." Kate looks up and places her hand on Yelena's chin, pulling on it to turn Yelena's face, forcing their eyes to meet. "Thank you for coming back."

"Thank you for taking me back."

"Easy choice." Kate leans in, her lips meeting Yelena's in a soft kiss. "I love you. So much."

"I love you too."

"I know." Kate nods, a serene expression on her face. "Sleep."

"Yeah."

Yelena, unwilling to argue tonight, sets aside her nagging feeling about how much of a nuisance Tom will be in their lives. However, the tight knot in her stomach serves as a warning, urging her to brace. Yelena has learned to trust her gut instincts, knowing they rarely lead her astray. But that’s a problem for tomorrow…

"Night." Kate whispers, peppering Yelena's skin with soft kisses.

"Good night."

Before long, they're sound asleep in each other's arms, officially starting their journey as life partners.

[marauderivy]

One thing I like about RusAme is that Alfred gets to be his true self in front of Ivan, or at least that’s what I think. He does not need to hide himself at all because he knows whatever thoughts he have, bright or dark, joyful or angsty, Ivan would understand them perfectly.

In Iron Mirgorod, Sergei Esenin described USA as: “The deeper you go into the heart, toward California, the impression of unwieldiness disappears: Before your eyes pass plains with sparse forest and - alas, terribly reminiscent of Russia!” And likewise, Van Cliburn, the American pianist who won the Tchaikovsky Competition in 1958, also expressed that seen from the airplane, the Moscow plains look so very much like Texas.

They both have this “mainland mentality” which I find truly fascinating - the vast expanses, everything is possible, everything is up for change. And they sure both have that proud and unyielding character that’s directly inherited from the nature that surrounds them.

[dragoneyes618]

For the first two years of World War II, Stalin and Hitler were allies.

There is no denying that a vast number of Soviet citizens lost their lives in World War II. Without the Russian people’s appalling suffering and sacrifice, the Allies might not have triumphed in the end.

But there is also no denying that Moscow was Nazi Germany’s partner in unleashing the war, the deadliest in human history, in the first place. Russia is culpable for plunging the world into war — a record the Kremlin’s propagandists have been trying to obscure for decades.

On Aug. 23, 1939, German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop and Soviet Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov signed a non-aggression treaty, agreeing to conquer and divide Poland and the rest of Eastern Europe.

World War II is commonly said to have started on Sept. 1, 1939 , when German forces invaded Poland. But it would perhaps be more accurate to date the start of the war nine days earlier. On Aug. 23, 1939, German Foreign Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop and Soviet Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov signed a treaty of non-aggression, whereby their governments agreed to conquer and divide Poland and the rest of Eastern Europe. It was under the terms of this pact that the Nazi Wehrmacht moved into western Poland on Sept. 1 and Josef Stalin’s Red Army invaded Poland from the east 16 days later.

“Soviet and German forces set up brutal occupation regimes in their respective spheres and forcibly transferred hundreds of thousands of Polish citizens to forced-labor sites,” recounts Mark Kramer, the director of the Cold War Studies Project at Harvard’s Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies.

On 22 September the Soviet and German forces celebrated the conquest of Poland with a joint military parade at Brest-Litovsk (Brześć-Litewski), a small city on the demarcation line established under point 2 of the secret protocol to the Nazi-Soviet Pact. Sporadic fighting continued for the next two weeks, but by early October 1939 the Polish state had ceased to exist.

Devouring half of Poland didn’t slake Moscow’s appetite. In the months that followed the Nazi-Soviet takeover of Poland, as Hitler’s troops conquered Denmark, Norway, Belgium, Holland, and France and bombed much of London into rubble, Stalin’s forces continued their illegal war of aggression and conquest. Writes Kramer:

Even as the Red Army was imposing Soviet rule on eastern Poland, Soviet troops also began moving into the three Baltic states (Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania), which had enjoyed some two decades of independence after the First World War. In subsequent months, as Soviet military and state security forces continued to pour into the Baltic countries, they compelled the local governments to comply with Moscow’s demands. Eventually, in mid-1940, Soviet occupying forces replaced the indigenous governments with puppet regimes that voted for “voluntary” incorporation into the USSR. The same pattern was evident in the formerly Romanian territories of Bessarabia and northern Bukovina, which the Soviet Union occupied and annexed in late June 1940. The only major impediment to the expansion of Soviet rule in Eastern Europe came in Finland, where the entry of Soviet troops at the end of November 1939 sparked a brief but intense war.

In short, for the first two years of World War II, Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia were allies. They secretly planned and jointly began the war that inflicted such horror and destruction. Later, of course, Hitler double-crossed Stalin and ordered the Wehrmacht to invade the Soviet Union in June 1941. But before that turning point, the two totalitarian powers cooperated closely. The Soviet military, for example, was supplied with enormous quantities of German military technology. In the fall of 1939, the Germans agreed to supply Soviet submarines fighting against Finland. At the height of their cooperation, notes Ian Johnson, a professor of military history at Ohio State University, Stalin even authorized the German navy to operate a naval base near Murmansk to attack British shipping and support the invasion of Norway.

From 1939 through mid-1941, Soviet Russia collaborated with the Nazis in wreaking slaughter and savagery on the nations of Europe.

In 2014, Russian President Vladimir Putin made it a crime for Russians to “spread intentionally false information” — i.e., to tell the truth — about the atrocities committed by Soviet forces during World War II. As a result, writes Kramer, “the brutality of the Soviet occupation of eastern Poland, including massacres and widespread rapes, is a taboo subject in Russia nowadays.” In much the same way, Putin has made it illegal for Russian journalists today to report on Moscow’s massive violations of human-rights crimes in Ukraine.

From 1939 through mid-1941, Soviet Russia collaborated with the Nazis in wreaking slaughter and savagery on the nations of Europe. The regime that rules in Moscow today is of course not responsible for Stalin’s evil alliance with Hitler. But no one should be fooled as Putin seeks to cloak himself and his calamitous Ukraine war in the “heroic” history of World War II-era Russia. Moscow and Berlin together started that horrific war, and used it to impose a reign of tyranny across Europe. Germany no longer terrorizes its neighbors. Russia still does.

[beardedmrbean]

Germany has taken a sharp turn in its migration policy compared to the 'welcoming measures' associated with the 'Merkel era'. Euronews reporter Monica Pinna went to Berlin to discover what has changed and why.

For many, Germany is the land of immigration. More than three million refugees and asylum seekers live there, which is more than in any other European country.

Some migrants are attracted by the high demand for skilled workers and Germany's generous benefits. But last year, asylum applications increased by more than 50 per cent. The migrant reception system went into crisis mode. The far right, amid growing consensus, accused the government of failing to get to grips with the increase in arrivals.

As a consequence, German Chancellor Olaf Scholz made a historic turn and tightened immigration measures.

 Tegel-Berlin, once the capital's primary international airport, was permanently shut down in 2020. The authorities turned it into a refugee centre in 2022 when thousands of Ukrainians, fleeing Russia's full-scale invasion, started arriving every day.

Tegel has become Germany's largest refugee camp. Around 5,000 refugees and asylum seekers currently live there. It expanded several times to meet growing demands and can now host up to 7,000 people. However, the facility has reached capacity and authorities say they will no longer consider further expansion.

Almost 300,000 people applied for asylum in Germany in 2023, the highest number since 2015, when Germany received more than one million refugees. The vast majority were from Syria as well as Turkey and Afghanistan. 

The continuing stream of arrivals has prompted the government to find other means of accommodation such as hotels, but Euronews was not allowed to film at these sites.

With reception centres in crisis mode, integration is becoming a challenge which is fuelling the anti-immigration rhetoric across the country. Last year the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party made historic gains in the local elections.

Border checks with Poland, Switzerland and the Czech Republic are already in place. Benefits for asylum seekers are expected to be cut while discouraging new arrivals is the new policy line.

“With these really large numbers and also this whole feeling, that many people in the electorate have, that they are losing control, the discourse got much more agitated” explained David Kipp, a migration expert for the German Institute for International and Security Affairs, SWP.

Despite growing opposition to immigration, more than one million people took to the streets of Germany in January and protested against the far right. 

The demonstrations followed revelations of an alleged plot between members of AfD and neo-Nazis to deport millions of immigrants, including some with German citizenship. The demonstrations impacted January's local elections and AfD suffered a narrow defeat to the opposition conservative party.

However, the parties in Scholz's traffic-light coalition are still trailing far behind AfD in the polls.

[darkmaga-retard]

Andrew Korybko

Aug 23, 2024

Beyond it are just a few lightly defended towns and then vast expanses of grassland that could become the scene of maneuver warfare until Russia reaches the next heavily defended localities further afield.

Ukrainian officials have urged locals in and around the town of Pokrovsk to evacuate within the next two weeks as Russian forces rapidly approach this pivotal military logistics hub. The head of neighboring Mirnograd’s military administration bluntly said “Don’t wait. It will not get better, it will only get worse. Leave”, and then admitted that “The enemy is advancing faster than expected.” The Associated Press cited local commanders who blamed Russia’s swift gains on their side’s poorly trained conscripts.

One of them claimed that “Some people don’t want to shoot. They see the enemy in the firing position in trenches but don’t open fire. ... That is why our men are dying…They don’t receive even the lowest standard of training required for our (combat) actions.” An unnamed soldier also lamented that “The main problem is the survival instinct of newcomers. Before, people could stand until the last moment to hold the position. Now, even when there is light shelling of firing positions, they are retreating.”

The poor quality of Ukraine’s recruits casts doubt on whether the whopping 120,000 troops that Belarusian President Lukashenko claimed had been deployed along his border could make much of a difference if some of them are sent to Donbass out of desperation to halt Russia’s advance. They’d more than likely participate in “meat waves” like those before them did in Artyomovsk/Bakhmut and Avdeevka, and just like their predecessors, they’re also destined to sacrifice themselves in vain.

[centrally-unplanned]

For the VOR thing: Do Bismarck and Hitler

Did Hitler, quite well I think! As for Bismark - he is overrated, though not crazily so. I think the best indicator for Bismark's VOR is what happened when other actors changed; Wilhelm II ascends and then he is unable to fight the new change, turns out society isn't behind him and Wilhelm has plenty of allies. It shows that he was a leader of a more fragile consensus then he knew.

He is of course a man of great ambition that cannot be replicated - he put in the work for the German Unification like no one else would have, moving immediately for it at every opportunity. But it was an easy target - the vast majority of Germans wanted it. Even the rulers of the other German states could see the writing on the wall, and were fine with the outcome - it was primarily France & Austria-Hungary pushing back that was stopping it. And Germany bested them because the Prussian Military Command had revolutionized mobilization, officer training, and operational planning, things he had little to do with. Its easy to look impressive in foreign policy when you have the biggest stick.

And when you look beyond the unification to his domestic policy, its pretty mixed. Kulturekampf is a failure, he constantly isolates the conservative faction, and fails to anticipate economic challenges. And the foreign policy success are...okay here is a quote from wiki:

A net result of the strength and military prestige of Germany combined with situations created or manipulated by her chancellor was that in the eighties Bismarck became the umpire in all serious diplomatic disputes, whether they concerned Europe, Africa, or Asia. Questions such as the boundaries of Balkan states, the treatment of Armenians in the Turkish empire and of Jews in Rumania, the financial affairs of Egypt, Russian expansion in the Middle East, the war between France and China, and the partition of Africa had to be referred to Berlin; Bismarck held the key to all these problems.[69]

Its a quote praising him, and I want you to ask: wtf does any of this have to do with Germany? How does Bismark having a say in how Egypt settled its debts with Britian over the Suez Canal benefit them? Of course Bismark was able to play diplomat on these issues, Germany was powerful and didn't have a huge vested interest, why not let them host a conference in Berlin. He had wins, don't get me wrong, just that post-1871 the stakes for Germany were often small, and honestly he liked to meddle.

This is all framed negatively because I know his reputation - most people view him as one of the most accomplished statements of all time. And he is, just not as high as people put him - he has easy targets and pliable politics. Without him, tons of individual things along the way would look different. But you likely would have had a unified Germany, economically strong, spiking fears in Russia & France. With enough years Bismark's legacy fades. B+

[mariacallous]

In the summer of 2022, as it became clear that Vladimir Putin had made a vast strategic error,  a cry went up from concerned and caring Western statesmen that on no account must the dictator be “humiliated”.

Emmanual Macron was adamant that, despite the Kremlin launching an unprovoked war of imperial expansion and committing countless crimes against humanity, the West must offer it an “exit ramp.” Meanwhile, the Biden administration treated Ukraine like a prisoner under torture: it provided enough weapons to keep the country alive but not the modern aircraft, tanks and long-range missiles it needed to escape the pain Russia inflicted.

Western governments feared crossing a “red line” and provoking Putin into nuclear war. Or they worried that a decisive Russian defeat would lead to Putin’s overthrow and chaos descending on the Russian Federation.

Chaos in Russia? My God, that would be intolerable, even though the West seems more than willing to tolerate chaos in Europe.

For in this dark winter the question is now what happens if the West is humiliated?  Where are our red lines?  And what is our exit ramp?  

Western success or failure remains in our own hands. The Institute for the Study of War is stating no more than the obvious when it says that, if the US and Europe stop their aid, Ukraine will fall. And that, if the West maintains and increases support, Russian cannot win.

I said these statements were obvious, and so they should be. Yet both the US and the EU are denying their force.  The European Union allowed Putin’s client Viktor Orban to veto a €50 billion aid package. Meanwhile in the US, pro-Trump Republicans are blocking  support to Ukraine (and to Israel and Taiwan) for the time being, and there is the prospect that Donald Trump will win the presidency in November 2024, and block it forever.

We know what a Russian victory will mean for Ukraine. In the areas of the country Russian troops have conquered, they hunted down local leaders who might inspire resistance, tortured, raped and murdered

What would happen to the West is a question that deserves more attention than it receives, however. The West isn’t a fixed place. If the term means anything it is a description of common beliefs and alliances shared across democratic nations. If the defeat of Ukraine shows that those beliefs are fatuous, Putinist politics will receive an enormous boost; not just in Russia, where the imperial and dictatorship would see its legitimacy enhanced, but also in Europe and North America.

Russian success would mean that, contrary to everything we were taught since 1945, dictators can reorder Europe’s borders by force, and occupy and terrorise an independent country. As that knowledge sinks in, the atmosphere in the West will turn foul and foul Western movements will thrive.

Talking about changes in the atmosphere or zeitgeist feels airy and imprecise; an improper subject for serious journalism. But the argument of this piece is that all societies manage with norms they take to be inviolable. When those norms fail everything changes.

If Russia can engage in unprovoked aggression and colonial land seizures, and get away with it, Donald Trump can deny the results of a legitimate election and incite insurrection, and still get to be US president again.

Trump, indeed, has already shown that he understands the dark currents of our time better than his critics. 

In June 2016, the then candidate Trump welcomed the “leave” victory in the UK’s Brexit referendum, seeing it as a sign that he would win the US presidential election in November of that year. Many journalists, myself included, thought he was an idiot. Potential Republican voters knew little and cared less about debates about British sovereignty and the Common Agricultural Policy, we reasoned. But Trump knew better. He understood that because the UK “scored a great victory” over the “global elite,”  and had torn up the old rules, enough American voters might be prepared to do the same.

 If US weapons delays continue into 2024 and Ukraine staggers or falls, it will help Trump’s prospects and the prospects of Europe’s far right parties. Every Russian success is a jeering attack on human rights and the liberal order. All enemies of liberalism benefit from Putin’s victories.

Imagining a Ukrainian defeat is not to play some kind of grim parlour game. The weapons embargoes hurt. They make planning for the future of the war impossible. Phillips O’Brien, a leading military historian,  says that “Ukraine has no idea what it will have in terms of… the equipment it will need to fight the war because it has no idea what the US will do in terms of aid. I’m struggling to think of a more difficult strategic planning situation.”

Like most historians and military strategists, he is astonished that we can even be talking about a Ukrainian defeat. The balance of forces is such that we should not need to contemplate it. First, credit must go to the courage of the Ukrainian armed forces.   Contrary to all the expectations of the supposedly competent Western intelligence services, they did not fold in February 2022, but inflicted vast losses on the Russian army and defeated the Russian navy in the Black Sea.

And then there is the brute audit of power.

Russia is a vicious state with a relatively small economy and delusions of imperial grandeur. As of 2023, NATO had approximately 3.36 million active military personnel compared with 1.33 million active military personnel in the Russian military. NATO had 20,633 aircraft to Russia’s 4,182, and 2,151 military ships, to Russia’s 598.   From any normal military perspective, an outgunned mafia state, should not be able to win a proxy war against the west.

If it does, three conclusions will follow, none of them comforting.

The power of malign minorities to dictate to the rest of us will be on full display. Most Americans and a majority of politicians in the US Congress want to help Ukraine. But a minority on the Republican right is blocking them, and the Biden administration is so lacking in political skill it cannot mobilise the majority to break the deadlock. Hungary, meanwhile, is a tiny quasi-dictatorship, and Viktor Orban is a Putin ally. If the European Union were a self-confident alliance of democracies, it would expel it. As things stand, it prefers to let Orban dictate European priorities instead.

I mention useless liberal leadership because so much of liberal commentary focuses on the far right. Journalist should be honest and report that the war is revealing a failure of nerve in the liberal mainstream. Everyone quotes from The Second Coming in moments like these, but Yeats’s lines are unavoidable: “The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.”

If Ukraine loses, the liberal centre will not hold. The decision of the Biden administration to keep Ukraine as a tortured prisoner, without the weapons systems it needs to break free, will not just seem a cruel policy but a colossal strategic mistake, which threw away the chance to weaken the West’s enemies.

The mistake so many of us living comfortable and secure lives make is to believe that we can escape the consequences; that what happens in Ukraine will stay in Ukraine.

In fact, refugees will flood westwards, destabilising Europe and encouraging the far right. War won’t stop. Ukrainians will take to the forests and mountains and fight guerilla campaigns.  Emboldened by victory and confident that the West lacks the will to resist, Russia will push again into Moldova and the Baltic States.

Every cliché dictators utter about the flabbiness of selfish democracies will be proved true. Russia and indeed China will be able to tell the world that the United States and NATO were unreliable allies, who lacked the endurance for the long haul. Tyrants from Xi to Maduro will be licking their lips. Every illiberal movement on the planet will see Putin’s victory as their victory 

It does not have to be this way. But unless in 2024 Western governments stand up for what they say they believe in, it will be.

[dialogue-queered]

11 June 2023

Beneath the veneer of Russian military “tactics”, you see the stupid leer of destruction for the sake of it. The Kremlin can’t create, so all that is left is to destroy. Not in some pseudo-glorious self-immolation, the people behind atrocities are petty cowards, but more like a loser smearing their faeces over life. In Russia’s wars the very senselessness seems to be the sense.

After the casual mass executions at Bucha; after the bombing of maternity wards in Mariupol; after the laying to waste of whole cities in Donbas; after the children’s torture chambers, the missiles aimed at freezing civilians to death in the dead of winter, we now have the apocalyptic sight of the waters of the vast Dnipro, a river that when you are on it can feel as wide as a sea, bursting through the destroyed dam at Kakhovka. The reservoir held as much water as the Great Salt Lake in Utah. Its destruction has already submerged settlements where more than 40,000 people live. It has already wiped out animal sanctuaries and nature reserves. It will decimate agriculture in the bread basket of Ukraine that feeds so much of the world, most notably in the Middle East and Africa. To Russian genocide add ecocide.

The dam has been controlled by Russia for more than a year. The Ukrainian government has been warning that Russia had plans to blast it since October.

Seismologists in Norway have confirmed that massive blasts, the type associated with explosives rather than an accidental breach, came from the reservoir the night of its destruction. Some – including the American pro-Putin media personality Tucker Carlson – argue Russia couldn’t be behind the devastation, given the damage has spread to Russian-controlled territories, potentially restricting water supply to Crimea. But if “Russia wouldn’t damage its own people” is your argument then it’s one that doesn’t hold, pardon the tactless pun, much water. One of the least accurate quotes about Russia is Winston Churchill’s line about it being “a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, but perhaps there is a key. That key is Russian national interest.” This makes it sound as if Russia is driven by some theory of rational choice – when century after century the opposite appears to be the case.

Few have captured the Russian cycle of self-destruction and the destruction of others as well as the Ukrainian literary critic Tetyana Ogarkova. In her rewording of Fyodor Dostoevsky’s Russian classic novel Crime and Punishment, a novel about a murderer who kills simply because he can, Ogarkova calls Russia a culture where you have “crime without punishment, and punishment without crime”. The powerful murder with impunity; the victims are punished for no reason.

When not bringing humanitarian aid to the front lines, Ogarkova presents a podcast together with her husband, the philosopher Volodymyr Yermolenko. It’s remarkable for showing two people thinking calmly while under daily bombardment. It reminds me of German-Jewish philosophers such as Walter Benjamin, who kept writing lucidly even as they fled the Nazis. As they try to make sense of the evil bearing down on their country, Ogarkova and Yermolenko note the difference between Hitler and Stalin: while Nazis had some rules about who they punished (non-Aryans; communists) in Stalin’s terror anyone could be a victim at any moment. Random violence runs through Russian history.Reacting to how Vladimir Putin’s Russia is constantly changing its reasons for invading Ukraine – from “denazification” to “reclaiming historic lands” to “Nato expansion” – Ogarkova and Yermolenko decide that the very brutal nature of the invasion is its essence: the war crimes are the point. Russia claims to be a powerful “pole” in the world to balance the west – but has failed to create a successful political model others would want to join. So it has nothing left to offer except to drag everyone down to its own depths.“How dare you live like this,” went a resentful piece of graffiti by Russian soldiers in Bucha. “What’s the point of the world when there is no place for Russia in it,” complains Putin. After the dam at Kakhovka was destroyed, a General Dobruzhinsky crowed on a popular Russian talkshow: “We should blow up the Kyiv water reservoir too.” “Why?” asked the host. “Just to show them.” But, as Ogarkova and Yermolenko explore, Russians also send their soldiers to die senselessly in the meat grinder of the Donbas, their bodies left uncollected on the battlefield, their relatives not informed of their death so as to avoid paying them. On TV, presenters praise how “no one knows how to die like us”. Meanwhile, villagers on the Russian-occupied side of the river are being abandoned by the authorities. Being “liberated” by Russia means joining its empire of humiliation.

Where does this drive to annihilation come from? In 1912 the Russian-Jewish psychoanalyst Sabina Spielrein – who was murdered by the Nazis, while her three brothers were killed in Stalin’s terror -first put forward the idea that people were drawn to death as much as to life. She drew on themes from Russian literature and folklore for her theory of a death drive, but the founder of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, first found her ideas too morbid. After the First World War, he came to agree with her. The desire for death was the desire to let go of responsibility, the burden of individuality, choice, freedom – and sink back into inorganic matter. To just give up. In a culture such as Russia’s, where avoiding facing up to the dark past with all its complex webs of guilt and responsibility is commonplace, such oblivion can be especially seductive.

But Russia is also sending out a similar message to Ukrainians and their allies with these acts of ultra-violent biblical destruction: give in to our immensity, surrender your struggle. And for all Russia’s military defeats and actual socio-economic fragility, this propaganda of the deed can still work.

The reaction in the west to the explosion of the dam has been weirdly muted. Ukrainians are mounting remarkable rescue operations, while Russia continues to shell semi-submerged cities, but they are doing it more or less alone. Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskiy, has been mystified by the “zero support” from international organisations such as the UN and Red Cross.

Perhaps the relative lack of support comes partly because people feel helpless in the face of something so immense, these Cecil B DeMille-like scenes of giant rivers exploding. It’s the same helplessness some feel when faced with the climate crisis. It’s apposite that the strongest response to Russia’s ecocide came not from governments but the climate activist Greta Thunberg, who clearly laid the blame of what happened on Russia and demanded it be held accountable. But there’s been barely a peep out of western governments or the UN.

Pushing the strange lure of death, oblivion and just giving up is the Russian gambit. How much life do we have left in us?

Peter Pomerantsev is the author of Nothing Is True and Everything Is Possible: Adventures in Modern Russia