#civilians

[ky-landfill]

[abatilus]

Civilian extraction

[theworldatwar]

A group of German civilians watch as Soviet tanks enter the city of Berlin, Germany 1945

[tailsdollr]

[creadigol]

Prompt #9

I deceided to play around with Civilian once more! Hope y'all enjoy!

Warning: This contains an unhinged villain and a character being pinned to a bed. Nothing happens, but if this is triggering then skip and read my other works! Love y'all and stay safe my darlings!

*Just a reminder that these snippets are not prompts, but original writings. Please do not duplicate or copy. If you want to do anything with the stories I have here on the blog, feel free to message me about it! I promise I’m super chill.*

It had been a rough day for Civilian. 

First the deadline had been moved up (meaning Civilian missed dinner), then Neil (true to his form) spilled hot coffee down Civilian’s back (something they were sure will leave a scar), and then boss decided a public display of humiliation was in order (something to motivate the troops) and since Civilian was right there will a large dark stain on their back…well suffice to say the little respect they worked to gain in the past six months was obliterated in three minutes. 

It had been a really rough day. 

Still, despite the hour they were home now. Home! Where the house was warm, the kitchen smelled like cinnamon apples, and Spouse was waiting for them upstairs (hopefully, unless Spouse had been called out again). 

Civilian wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hold Spouse. Have them hold Civilian back, let the tension of the day bleed out and wake up to a brighter tomorrow. 

They didn’t bother to turn on any lights as they entered their home. Civilian’s routine was so ingrained they could remove their shoes, hang up their coat and place down their car keys with their eyes closed. 

They also didn’t bother to look in the kitchen for what was surely a wonderful dinner wrapped up and placed in the fridge. When Civilian had called earlier to let Spouse know they would be late, Spouse had assured them there would be a plate of stew waiting for them. They would eat it tomorrow, tonight the only thing their body craved was sleep. 

The trek upstairs felt like a mountain, and when Civilian saw no lights on in the bedroom or bathroom, they assumed Spouse was asleep or there would be a note on their pillow stating they were called out to handle a crisis. 

Civilian hoped it was the former, their Spouse worked harder than they did and deserved the rest. 

Upon entering the bedroom, Civilian was delighted to see the dark shape of their spouse on the bed facing away from them. Their body was still, with only the intermittent rise and fall of their shoulder to indicate breathing. 

Civilian left the lights off and gathered their pajamas as quietly as possible. 

They elected to shower in the morning, not wanting the terrible water pressure in the pipes to wake Spouse. Even so, when finished in the bathroom, Civilian felt ten times more comfortable than before. Long t-shirt and baggy sweats letting their body feel looser than it had been in their cheap suit. 

Once again entering the bedroom, Civilian took a moment to admire the shape of their Spouse, feeling a little put out, yet relieved that Spouse had not waited up. 

Spouse had it rough lately. After a few missions gone wrong, their injuries started to add up and they had been assigned desk duty. Spouse hated sitting still (the exact opposite of Civilian) and the tension matched with the injuries caused a lot of sore muscles. Civilian helped as much as they could, massages and hot baths, but with their work schedule becoming more and more demanding, they felt they hadn’t been there as much as they should have been. 

Perhaps they would go away for a long weekend. Somewhere warm. Spouse would like that and Civilian had built up enough flyer miles to keep it in the budget. 

With a smile, Civilian crawled into bed determined to ask Spouse about it in the morning. 

As Civilian stretched across their side, Spouse hummed and stied on theirs, one arm arched up in a stretch. 

“Sorry honey, I’m just getting in. Go back to sleep,” Civilian whispered. They turned on their side to face Spouse’s back. They ran a light touch up and down Spouse’s side. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning.” 

They hoped the concession would lull Spouse back into slumber, dreaming of the pancakes Civilian made which were their favorite, but no such luck. 

“Ynomphkismoe…” Came the muffled response. And though it was unlike Spouse to talk into their pillow, Civilian understood. 

“Of course I’m going to kiss you, I just didn’t want to wake you.” 

Spouse didn’t turn on their back, also a bit unlike them, so Civilian propped themselves on one elbow, leaned close, and reached over to smooth Spouse’s hair from their cheek. 

That was when Civilian realized something was wrong. 

Civilian knew everything there was to know about their spouse. And their spouse knew everything there was to know about them. 

That included the fact that Spouse knew Civilian had a trick shoulder and thus hated holding themselves up on one arm. 

And the fact that Civilian knew what Spouse’s hair felt like. 

This was not their hair! 

The next few actions happened in a millisecond, yet to Civilian it felt like slow motion. 

They reached out and brushed the hair with their fingers. 

Their eyes grew wide as the feeling computed in their brain. 

They kept moving the hair to reveal a face that was NOT THEIR SPOUSE. 

They barely muttered a loud “WHAT THE FUC…” before the stranger flipped and pinned them to the other side of the bed. 

Civilian let out a terrified yelp, reaching to push the stranger off only for both their wrists to be trapped on either side of their head. They kicked, but the stranger quickly secured their legs by leaning both their shins on the top of Civilian’s thighs. 

“Whoa there now,” came the sickening voice. “No need to panic, we were having such a beautiful moment.” 

Civilian looked up, fear tightening their chest and panic gripping their lungs. There was little light in the bedroom, only that of the streetlights through the window, but Civilian knew that shadowed face…they knew that voice.  

“Villain…” They gasped. “Let…what…”

“Shhhhhh…” Villain let go of one wrist to trail a finger down Civilan’s lips. “Does this mean I don’t get breakfast?” 

Civilian lashed out and threw a heel punch at Villain’s face, it was like hitting a brick wall. Pain exploded down Civilan’s arm and Villain didn’t flinch in the slightest. 

Civilian screamed and their arm fell useless to their side. 

Villain tightened their grip on their other wrist, “Oh! That was a good try. Had I been anyone else that might have worked. Did sweet Spouse teach that to you?” 

Yes. Civilian thought through the terror and the pain. Spouse had wanted them to be able to defend themselves. 

Civilian turned their head away, looking at the door, hoping against hope that Spouse would walk in at any moment. 

“Now, now, no need to be so distressed,” Villain tutted. They grabbed Civilian’s face and forced their head to look at them. “I’m only doing my part of the plan. About time Hero learned the consequences of their actions.” 

What?! No! No! How did Villian know Hero’s identity? A new terror gripped Civilian, Where was Spouse?!

They stilled their squirming and looked Villain dead in the eye. “Where is Spouse?” They grunted through the grip on their jaw. “What have you done to them?!” 

Villain tipped their head back and laughed. 

“Oh nothing you sweet thing!” They said jovially. Civilian felt the weight leave their legs and wrist as Villain swung themselves off of them. Civilian hastily pushed themselves up and against the headboard. 

“When looking into their private life I never would have guessed this!” Villain gestured to Civilian on the last word. “How domestic. You even make breakfast for them when you’re the one home late!” 

Villain cut again with maniacal laughter. Civilian pushed themselves as far as they could go on the headboard as if it would create more space between them. They wondered at their chances of escaping, but knew Villain was not only super strong, but fast. Civilian’s wrist throbbed and their heart rate was dizzying. They tried to gather as much courage as possible.

“What do you want? To know Hero’s homelife? Well, you’ve seen, so now you can go!” Civilian hated how their voice shook. 

Villain sobered in less then a second. “Leave? Well, yes I suppose that is the plan…but me thinks I should stay true to my villainous ways and steal something.” 

A deep dread settled in Civilian's stomach. 

“It’s true I haven’t done anything to Hero,” Villain continued looking at them, “yet. But I’m no fool as to believe I can defeat them with only this.” Villain patted their own arm, flexing the muscle underneath. 

“No, I believe I can with this,” and then Villain was pushing into Civilian's space and with a pointed finger they jabbed Civilian in the chest, right over their heart. “I steal this, and Hero will crumble.” 

“No…” But Civilian didn’t finish. Villain latched onto their arms in an iron grip and pulled them from the bed. Securing an arm around Civilan’s waist they effortlessly picked them up and started to drag them away. Civilian kicked, screamed, and tried to grab anything they could as Villain pulled them into the hallway. 

“Ah, yes, please do make a mess,” Villain chortled, not bothered in the slightest at Civilian's efforts. “Leave a trail right to the door…I want Hero to see how much you fought.”

And with a last laugh Villain dragged Civilian from the house and into a waiting car outfront. 

[usnatarchives]

Civil War in Focus – Mathew Brady’s Photography 🎩🥁

A century before smartphones, Mathew Brady and his team pioneered war photography. Brady (1820s–1896) organized dozens of photographers to document the Civil War – from bloody battlefields to stoic portraits. The National Archives holds thousands of these glass-plate images in the Brady collection (many originally War Dept records).

Brady’s photographs fundamentally changed how the public saw war. For the first time, civilians could see the reality of camp life, the aftermath of battles, and the faces of soldiers.

President Lincoln credited Brady’s portrait of him at Antietam with helping win re-election in 1864 (saying "Brady and the Cooper Union speech made me President.")

Brady’s crew didn’t just photograph battlefields but everyday stillness and the daily grind of camp life for soldiers and crew.

Field kitchens were a favorite Brady subject – this rare stereo image shows Army cooks preparing stew in big cauldrons over fire pits.

Mathew Brady’s photographs are freely accessible in NARA’s Catalog. See faces of named soldiers, panoramic ruins of Richmond, or the eerie stillness of Antietam right after the fight. It’s a 160-year-old visual archive that still speaks volumes about honor, sacrifice, and the birth of photojournalism.

[saywhat-politics]

UN report accuses Russia of war crimes in drone warfare and forcible transfer of civilians | CNN

A new report from the United Nations accuses Russia of committing crimes against humanity by attacking civilians and civilian infrastructure

(CNN) — A new report from the United Nations accuses Russia of committing crimes against humanity by attacking civilians and civilian infrastructure with drones, as well as committing war crimes through the forcible transfer of people.

Drone attacks on civilians in areas along the front line of Russia’s war with Ukraine amount to the crime against humanity of murder, the report says. Russia also committed war crimes by intentionally attacking civilians and civilian targets, according to the report by the UN Independent International Commission of Inquiry on Ukraine.