The Lazy Man's Worldbuilding Mad Lib + Glory to Liechtenstein

In a world where <your enemies> have come into power, a <MOTAS embodying your kink> dares to bring <your politics> to power, using <your magic bullshit> and <the power part of power fantasy>. They are accompanied by <your selfinsert>, a <kink extension>

Izzy's breath steamed in the autumn air. The lights of Planken shone through the needles of the Neugruett, silhouetting the guards patrolling the once-sleepy enclave with the alertness that only the fear of death could bring. The Politbuero had ramped up their security since the first mayor had unexpectedly perished in the night, and each assassination brought greater and greater reinforcements until the entire Liechtensteiner People's Army had been recalled from the borders to handle internal security. Izzy didn't mind. More guards meant more blood to spill, and more vehicles to strengthen her own troops.

Her radio crackled. "Frau Kommandantin"

"Ja?"

"The Greasemen are in position. Curzio is standing by"

"Good. He has five minutes, make sure he doesn't get into any trouble. Out"

"Jawohl, Frau Kommandantin"

Izzy flicked her radio to another channel and addressed the rest of her troops.

"Five minutes. Drink your Liquors in two, and Igniters fire on my flare. Out"

A two roger beeps came and she switched to a third channel, sending three beeps. One came in response and she hooked her radio on her plate carrier, then pulled a flask from her back pocket and opened it, keeping one eye on her watch. Two minutes elapsed, then she drank deeply, shaking the last drops of engine coolant into her mouth before replacing the cap and putting the flask away while grabbing her radio. Her breath no longer steamed, her dark hair paled, and her lips and eyes began to turn an icy blue. She flicked it to the main channel, and, with her last breath, gave her order.

"Mark"

Fire flew from the treeline towards the town as dark figures sprinted from the forest to the roads. The Igniters were quick and accurate, and soon their work had filled the air with the smell of gasoline and the screams of burning watchmen, as snipers flung themselves to the ground and rolled their melting flesh across the earth, desperately trying to extinguish the flames. The dark figures ignored them, sprinting past and hammering Jersey barriers and parked trucks with their fists and feet. The barriers fell, and soon the entire force was within the town, surging towards the Gemeindeverwaltung. Car alarms blared as quartermasters ripped off their hoods and gas caps to extract the gold that lay within. The initial fires spread, consuming the wooden buildings and the flags of the Liechtenstein People's Democratic Party. Izzy strode down Dorfstrasse, a her right hand curled into a loose fist and her left gripping a Sig Sauer. As she approached the Gemeindeverwaltung, gunshots rang out as the LPA's commanders whipped their soldiers into line. Her lips curled into a cruel smirk, and frost began to form around her right hand as she stepped into the parking lot and surveyed the scene.

Five Dieselpunks lay moaning, blood and fuel mixing on the asphalt, and the burning corpse of an overeager Igniter blinded cast flickering shadows on the rest of the strike team, who ducked between trucks and motorcycles, firing their sidearms wildly. Meanwhile, the LPA had retreated into the building, and muzzle flashes came from the windows and skylights. All this she saw in an instant, and Isabel, Kommandantin of the Independent Logistics Force, got to work. She flung her right hand to and fro, spikes of ice forming in the air and shooting through windows as she shouted at her team, urging them forth, for victory was nigh and glory awaited them beyond the doors of the Gemeindeverwaltung. Her troops rallied, and the Dieselpunks burst through the double doors and most of the wall, LPA blood spattering the floor and their comrades. Isabel ran in behind, emptying her pistol's magazine before flinging it aside and concentrating a saw of ice from the air. She jumped over the Dieselpunks and began to hack through the Mayor's personal guard, blood streaking her face and body til she resembled a demonic Emma Frost. She had reached the door to the meeting hall to which the Mayor had retreated, before the she heard a crack and the air behind her hissed as the head of a wounded LPA lieutenant exploded, covering her with shards of bone and chunks of brain. She growled and halted the swipe she had already begin, then kicked open the door. Within lay a broken table that had blocked the door, food, ammunition, radios, and the Mayor's wife, but no Mayor. Isabel frowned and stepped to the side as her soldiers streamed in, breaking down the walls and tossing the materiel to the quartermasters. Evidently, the sniper they had hired had abandoned his duties.

The company left the burning village shortly, men and horses hauling their loot past the shell-shocked remains of the Planken civilian population, and they scattered, each team taking a different route to their camp near Ruggell. Those lucid enough to take note wondered at the shackled and weeping figure that followed one such group, and whispers that the ILF had taken its first prisoner began to spread.

Hours passed as one by one teams arrived at the ILF camp. Isabel's lips and eyes had returned to their respective pink and grey as the coolant left her system, and even the mellifluous screams and sweet blood of the Mayor's wife as they debriefed her was not enough to sooth the rage towards the sniper they had hired. Nearly a fifth of the ILF's budget had gone to hiring that shaggy-haired fool from the Wild Boars, and she had nothing to show for it but the shampoo bottle she had to drain to remove the cerebrospinal fluid from her hair. She stalked out of the command tent and towards the fires, slipping from shadow to shadow, listening to her soldiers. She did not much care for their gossip and gambling, but she had found that they would often drop useful tidbits of information: an observation as to the direction LPA soldiers fled, the make and model of a transport they destroyed, and suchlike. Tonight, she found a squad razzing a man in flecktarn and a black coppola: her sniper. She pushed away the impulse to reveal herself and lay into him personally, and listened closely.

"What the fuck was that, you mercenary retard? You were supposed to shoot the Mayor, not some LPA dipshit!"

"Yeah, now he's gotten away! He's probably already run down to Politbuero headquarters to tell them all about us!"

They continued for another ten minutes and Isabel began to grow bored as they repeated their points for the third time, beginning to step forth before the sniper began to speak. She checked herself.

"If you're quite finished," he spoke in a voice rough from hours of silence, "I took that shot because that 'LPA dipshit' was about to assassinate our lovely Kommandantin." Isabel found herself blushing at this and quickly shook her head, focusing herself.

"If you think some fat civvie running back to mommy to tell her about the scary guerrilla force that he didn't even see properly is bad for your situation, imagine how bad it would be if she was killed. That Mayor had about as much power in the LPDP as my fucking lawnmower, and the Kommandantin provides half of this crew's fuckin' firepower! I saw y'all three in that parking lot, and y'all were huddling behind a car pissing yourselves while she was walking straight into the line of fire. Give your balls a tug."

"Shut the fuck up, Yankee. You don't even know her, and she mail-ordered your ass. We three were hand-picked!"

"Hand-picked from what, the fucking special school? Y'all shoot down the side of the slide like a fuckin' rapper in a music video and you can't hit shit from more than ten feet. Motherfucker, I've been in half the civil wars on the planet and Isabel is the first competent combatant I've seen in my career, and the only reason she isn't carrying this entire outfit on her back is because there's enough of y'all meat shields firing at once to kill the odd soldier that didn't have the sense to hide behind a wall."

"Fuck you, man! The Kommandantin isn't that grea-" shouted the squad leader before he saw Isabel step forward. He choked.

"Grigori. Report to my tent in ten minutes"

"Y-yes Frau Kommandantin"

"And don't even think about trying to run. I know where you'll go. Dismissed."

Grigori twitched and walked off, and his squadmates drifted to other fires, eager to avoid Isabel's gaze. The sniper turned to her and stared, his arms crossed.

"You got something to say to me too?"

"You disobeyed orders"

"I chose the most important target in my field of fire"

"You have forty-eight hours to find the Mayor and bring him here. Alive"

"How alive?"

Isabel was surprised. She had expected him to refuse.

"Alive enough for me to debrief him"

The sniper smirked, his expression matching that of the hog on his unit patch. "10-4, honey"

Isabel's cheeks began warmed again, and she mumbled "Dismissed" before turning and walking to her tent.

By the time the sniper had grabbed his gear and was walking out of the camp, Grigori's screams and the coppery tang of blood drifted through the air and mixed with the smell of kasha the cooks served. He shook his brown locks and chuckled, heading into the forest as thunder cracked and the skies opened.

It was roughly thirty-three hours before the sniper returned with the Mayor in tow, and the rest of the camp stared mutely at the bloodied, mud-covered pair. The sniper's rifle hung from his left shoulder and was missing its scope, while the Mayor stumbled along with two black eyes and an arm that hung limply at a stomach-turningly wrong angle. Message was sent to Isabel and she waited just outside of her tent, a warm wetness growing between her thighs as she watched the Mayor fall and the sniper yank him back up by his broken arm, swearing loudly. By the time the two reached her tent, the sniper was practically dragging the Mayor across the muddy ground, and she ducked inside to take a seat behind her desk and calm herself as heat filled her in a way only battle had done before. The sniper entered moments later, and unceremoniously dumped the Mayor in one of the chairs before the desk, before slouching into the other, pulling off his coppola and smoothing his hair back. Isabel crossed her legs.

"One Mayor, mostly alive, delivered in under forty-eight hours. What prize do I win?"

She smirked.

"You get to remain on my payroll, sniper"

"Great"

"Where did you find him?"

"North of Gaflei. Stupid fuck got lost and had been walking up and down the Alpspitz"

"How have the LPDP and LPA reacted?"

"They locked down all the main roads. Military traffic only. And they're building a forward operating base at Planken, looked like they'd conscripted most of the civilians. I had to duck east to avoid the patrols"

"Austria?"

He smirked.

"Don't ask me and I won't tell, darling"

Isabel jotted down some notes on her blotter as he stretched his arms and yawned.

"Am I dismissed now? This fucker's stink is all over me, and I want to shower off so I don't gotta buzz my hair again"

Isabel nodded, briefly contemplating joining him before pushing the thought from her mind.

"Clean yourself up and report back to me. I have a matter I want to discuss with you"

He nodded and gave a lazy salute before exiting the tent. Isabel turned to the Mayor and smirked, as she trembled with pent-up energy. The Mayor squeaked and the smell of urine permeated the air.

The sniper spent twenty minutes in the showers, methodically washing and re-washing his hair and body until only the scent of cheap soap remained. He threw on a spare pair of fatigue trousers and an olive drab sweater before lacing his boots back up and walking to the Kommandantin's tent. He noticed that one of the chairs sat outside the entrance, three of its legs shattered and seat stained, and snickered before pushing the flaps aside and entering. Inside, the smell was strongly antiseptic and he noticed brown stains on the canvas floor. The Mayor was absent, and Isabel leaned over her desk, staring at a map. He raised an eyebrow at what her partially-unbuttoned uniform shirt revealed, but dismissed the thoughts they raised.

"Kommandantin"

She unbent slowly, swaying forward slightly.

"Sniper"

"You can call me Kilo, you know. That's the callsign on the contract"

She smirked.

"Alright, Kilo. You can call me Izzy"

"Whaddya got for me, Izzy?" She blushed at the nickname. "Another solo mission? 'Cuz if it is, I'll need some time to repair my gear"

Izzy coughed awkwardly, and Kilo frowned.

"No, no, that won't be necessary. I've directed the armorers to replace your gear to the specifications listed in your contract, and we won't be conducting another raid for a few weeks. I wanted to discuss your future with the ILF"

"You hired me for one mission. I did two, which is fair enough, considering I caused the second one to be required, but any others will require renegotiation with my bosses"

"Kilo-," she coughed again and looked to the side, "I want you to stay with me on a more permanent basis"

"So ask my bosses for a new contract. I don't have anything better to do, but I am not at liberty to leave the Wild Boars on a lark"

Her eyes brightened.

"Really? You don't have, say, a wife to get back to?"

"Nope"

He could have sworn that her expression grew hungry for a moment.

"Stay for the night, then. I'll contact your superiors and see if we can work out an agreement by tomorrow morning"

Kilo nodded.

"We got some new recruits while you were away, so I'm afraid your bunk is currently occupied. However, in the interests of your comfort, I offer you my bed for the night"

"What, with you in it?"

Izzy turned red as her heart leapt at the suggestion, before she realized he was joking. She forced a smirk onto her face to disguise her delight.

"Absolutely. You may have made up for missing the Mayor, but you have yet to make up for disobeying a direct order. The soldiers under me serve. Is that understood?"

Kilo shifted and adjusted his sweater's hem, inadvertently drawing Izzy's attention to his groin. She licked her lips.

"Yes, Kommandantin"

"Very good, Kilo. Now, come here"

He walked behind her desk and she pulled a strip of nylon webbing from her pocket, wrapping it around his neck and locking it before he could react, then pulling it down so her lips were at his ear. Her scent filled his nostrils.

"Til death do we part, Kilo. Welcome to the ILF"

So there you go, a nice little 2500-word short story that implies a great deal about the world it operates within but doesn't actually require much to be specified. Plus, since it's a "write what you know" situation, it's incredibly easy!

N.B. I did not do any editing on this, I wrote it, ran it through spellcheck, and published it in three hours. Don't take it too seriously.