#1 Samuel ch.1

[lordgodjehovahsway]

1 Samuel 1: Ephraim's Wife Hannah Has Can Have Children, But His Other Wife Peninnah Cannot Have Children

1 There was a certain man from Ramathaim, a Zuphite from the hill country of Ephraim, whose name was Elkanah son of Jeroham, the son of Elihu, the son of Tohu, the son of Zuph, an Ephraimite. 

2 He had two wives; one was called Hannah and the other Peninnah. Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none.

3 Year after year this man went up from his town to worship and sacrifice to the Lord Almighty at Shiloh, where Hophni and Phinehas, the two sons of Eli, were priests of the Lord. 

4 Whenever the day came for Elkanah to sacrifice, he would give portions of the meat to his wife Peninnah and to all her sons and daughters. 

5 But to Hannah he gave a double portion because he loved her, and the Lord had closed her womb. 

6 Because the Lord had closed Hannah’s womb, her rival kept provoking her in order to irritate her. 

7 This went on year after year. Whenever Hannah went up to the house of the Lord, her rival provoked her till she wept and would not eat. 

8 Her husband Elkanah would say to her, “Hannah, why are you weeping? Why don’t you eat? Why are you downhearted? Don’t I mean more to you than ten sons?”

9 Once when they had finished eating and drinking in Shiloh, Hannah stood up. Now Eli the priest was sitting on his chair by the doorpost of the Lord’s house. 

10 In her deep anguish Hannah prayed to the Lord, weeping bitterly. 

11 And she made a vow, saying, “Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head.”

12 As she kept on praying to the Lord, Eli observed her mouth. 

13 Hannah was praying in her heart, and her lips were moving but her voice was not heard. Eli thought she was drunk 

14 and said to her, “How long are you going to stay drunk? Put away your wine.”

15 “Not so, my lord,” Hannah replied, “I am a woman who is deeply troubled. I have not been drinking wine or beer; I was pouring out my soul to the Lord. 

16 Do not take your servant for a wicked woman; I have been praying here out of my great anguish and grief.”

17 Eli answered, “Go in peace, and may the God of Israel grant you what you have asked of him.”

18 She said, “May your servant find favor in your eyes.” Then she went her way and ate something, and her face was no longer downcast.

19 Early the next morning they arose and worshiped before the Lord and then went back to their home at Ramah. Elkanah made love to his wife Hannah, and the Lord remembered her. 

20 So in the course of time Hannah became pregnant and gave birth to a son. She named him Samuel, saying, “Because I asked the Lord for him.”

Hannah Dedicates Samuel

21 When her husband Elkanah went up with all his family to offer the annual sacrifice to the Lord and to fulfill his vow, 

22 Hannah did not go. She said to her husband, “After the boy is weaned, I will take him and present him before the Lord, and he will live there always.”

23 “Do what seems best to you,” her husband Elkanah told her. “Stay here until you have weaned him; only may the Lord make good his word.” So the woman stayed at home and nursed her son until she had weaned him.

24 After he was weaned, she took the boy with her, young as he was, along with a three-year-old bull, an ephah of flour and a skin of wine, and brought him to the house of the Lord at Shiloh. 

25 When the bull had been sacrificed, they brought the boy to Eli, 

26 and she said to him, “Pardon me, my lord. As surely as you live, I am the woman who stood here beside you praying to the Lord. 

27 I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. 

28 So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.” And he worshiped the Lord there.

[notyourmajesty]

Henry's Dog David, and How RWRB (the Book and the Movie) Explore the Meaning of His Name.

(GIF by @andysapril)

CW: Mentions of deaths, murder attempts, mostly from Bible verses.

An Easter Egg from the book that the film managed to incorporate in an entirely different context.

Henry naming his dog David is one of the things Alex comments on both in the film and the book. He finds the name particularly odd for a pet, and when Henry tells him later that the inspiration was David Bowie, Alex remarks that he could have just used the surname instead.

This is basically just me overthinking the way the book and the film added "David and Jonathan" to two totally different scenes haha.

David Bowie

There has been a lot of debate over Bowie's sexuality since the 70s, and possibly conflicting statements from Bowie himself over the decades, but he did leave quite an impact on queer people in his time (ref: this article). Henry both in the book and in the film has often turned to literature and art for inspiration, and solace, when it came to exploring his own identity as a gay man. All kinds of historical queer identities - both debated and confirmed - show up in the tapestry of people and ideas that have influenced Henry's own thoughts and ideas (Alex's too). So it definitely makes sense that he would name his beloved pet dog after one of those inspirations.

(notably, during Henry's dramatic entrance when Alex comes down to the UK for damage control, the song playing is Bowie's "Up the Hill Backwards". You also see him choose a Queen song for karaoke, which makes me want to really headcanon him as a 70s prog rock fan 😄)

David and Jonathan

In the book, Alex goes over the details of Henry's fact sheet with Nora and his sister June. When he mentions the name of Henry's dog, he claims his dislike for the name is because it sounds more like a "tax attorney" than a beloved pet (Ch 2).

In the film, it's his SS detail Amy who quizzes him. She responds to his quip about Henry's choice of name for a pet by telling him what she's named her own dog. It's a tiny, fun detail with no lasting importance in the film, but I feel it does work within the larger framework of how the film incorporates queer readings and figures too.

I see this as a reference to a popular reading of the Hebrew/Biblical story of David and Jonathan from the 2 books of Samuel. David was a shepherd anointed by the prophet Samuel (through orders from God), to succeed King Saul, and Jonathan was Saul's son who was extremely devoted to David and even saved him from his father's wrath. They were known to have made a covenant to each other soon after they met, and the first Book of Samuel gives us a picture of an immensely close bond between the two:

After David had finished talking with Saul, Jonathan became one in spirit with David, and he loved him as himself. From that day Saul kept David with him and did not let him return home to his family. And Jonathan made a covenant with David because he loved him as himself. Jonathan took off the robe he was wearing and gave it to David, along with his tunic, and even his sword, his bow and his belt. (1 Samuel 18, 1-4)

Interpretations of their relationship have ranged from close friendship to a romantic relationship, and there have been many, many queer readings on this pair.

In Casey McQuiston's RWRB too, Alex references both a saying from the Book of Proverbs (24:13), and the story of David and Jonathan in the same paragraph. This is in Ch 10, when Henry takes Alex to the V&A museum. This particular sequence is in the inner chamber of the museum, shortly after the couple dance to Elton John's "Your Song".

He compares himself and Henry to "a lost David and Jonathan", and it's pretty obvious why when you think of their devotion, and the tragic end of the relationship of the latter. Like Jonathan, Henry is a prince utterly devoted to one man, and sure that his family too will be against their bond. Like David, Alex is an outsider who the royal family may view as a threat to their stability, and therefore must be kept away. David's love for Jonathan is immense: he makes the covenant with Saul's son soon after they meet, and when he mourns Jonathan's death, he says "Thy love to me was wonderful, passing the love of women." (2 Samuel 1:26).

This amazing post from @elipheleh explores this metaphor more in detail (as well as St. Chiara, and a quote from Oscar Wilde, who is referenced both in the book and the film as a writer Henry is fond of). It also speaks about the verse from the Book of Proverbs that Alex remembers, partly in Spanish, partly in English - Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. (Proverbs 24:13-14)

(Jonathan in 1 Samuel also has his own reference to honey - there is a story that chronicles a tense moment between Jonathan and his father, King Saul, due to Jonathan eating wild honey on a day when the troops were bound by an oath to fast (he had not heard the oath himself). He almost faces death by Saul's hand for breaking the oath the latter had made, but is saved by the other people in the troops. (1 Samuel 14: 24-46). I've seen different ways of this passage being interpreted - as either Jonathan being judged for disobeying an oath even though he was not around when it was announced, or Saul being viewed as foolish for making such an oath in the first place. The main point is, Saul is ready to kill his son for breaching a certain protocol, and it is the people who save Jonathan.

Similarly IMO, Henry is prepared to live his whole life in the closet viewing his sexuality as something that would bring shame to his family, but eventually recognizes that he has support. Both within his family (in the form of his mother Catherine and his sister Bea), and in the public eye)

At this point in their lives, Alex and Henry see very little hope that things will get better soon enough for them to unite. It is more than likely that - in their minds - this one romantic visit will be their last for a long, long time. Of course David and Jonathan - who parted ways in the hope of being reunited after the battle with Jonathan's father, and whose friendship/love met a tragic end - would be considered a fitting parallel for the situation Alex and Henry find themselves in.

The book has the space and scope to explore many, many images and symbols that could fit Alex and Henry. Whether it's in the letters they send each other, the references Alex learns more about as he figures out his sexuality. The book can - at the V&A museum - describe the statues the two men linger at in loving detail, making us more aware how poignant their temporary separation will be and how bittersweet this last dance is.

The movie's focus is different - the V&A scene is a (presumably) final, deeply intimate moment that lets Alex see for real the weight of his role in Henry's environment, and how little he expects to see his dreams come true. It also lets Henry see how determined Alex is to make his every dream a reality.

Most moments of highlighting queer literature or history are pocketed away in smaller sequences in the film, as small references and Easter eggs (eg. the books they recommend each other), as the film focuses more on the relationship and it's effects both on the men and the world around them. The V&A is more a visual backdrop for that bittersweet last moment where the two can find equal ground and truly understand each other. I think mentioning the names of the statues would take away from that.

The movie didn't need to include David and Jonathan. Why is why I'm truly, truly grateful that they still did. Even as a tiny, cute Easter egg that is supposed to be banter about weirdly specific pet-naming protocol 💖

[lookismaddict]

Cat’s Masterlist

[euphoria]

1:37 ──〇──── 4:20

⇄ ◃◃ II ▹▹ ↻

Hi, my name is Cat. My pronouns are (she/her/hers). I’m 21 years old, and I enjoy reading Lookism, writing, and making some weird bullshit. I’m open to any questions, since I love interacting with many people anytime. I’m not as hyper-fixated as I used to be, but I’m still that unhinged bitch sometimes. But, more mellowed out. (“Talk about character development. Look at this bi-” /j) Of course, be mindful, be respectful, and be patient with me. Please. That’s all I ask of you. We all have our own separate lives too, and all of us in the community would appreciate being treated as we all would like to be treated. So, I hope you enjoy your stay, and have a wonderful day. 🖤

Lookism Stories

Actual Spice = 🌶

Gun Park:

Rendezvous: Introduction -> Ch. I -> Ch. II-> Ch. III -> Ch. IV 🌶 -> Ch. V 🌶 -> Ch. VI🌶 -> Ch. VII -> Ch. VIII -> Ch.IX 🌶 -> Ch. X 🌶 -> Ch. XI 🌶 -> Ch. XII 🌶 -> Ch. XIII

Jake Kim:

Birthday Gift (Oneshot)🌶

Hudson Ahn:

My First Dream w/ Hudson: One-Shot 🌶

Future Story Ideas

Personal Account/Multi-Fandom Account: @gh0stk1lla

YouTube Channel for Edits: Lookism Addict

TikTok: lookism_addict

Honorable Mentions

I appreciate all of their work. Thank you!! 😸💞

Slimesam’s Rendezvous Art #1

Slimesam’s Rendezvous Art #2

Moonok3’s Rendezvous Art

Leekeira’s Cat x Gun Art (Cover Photo)

Leekeira’s Gun Park x Cat Story

Leekeira’s Cat x Gun Art #2

Hanaa-ogk’s Rendezvous Art #1

Hanaa-ogk’s Rendezvous Art #2

Hanaa-ogk’s Rendezvous Art #3

Hanaa-ogk’s Rendezvous Art #4

Hanaa-ogk’s Cat holding Cat Gun Art

Hanaa-ogk’s Cat x Gun Art

Spotify Playlists

Jong Gun Park’s playlist

Joon Goo Kim’s playlist

Gun & Goo’s Shared playlist

Samuel Seo’s playlist

Jake Kim’s playlist

(Y/N)’s playlist

Thoughts/Analyses

Lookism Characters as Mythological Gods

Memes

Lookism Chapter Thoughts:

Ch. 424 (Part I, Part II)

Ch. 425

Ch. 426

Ch. 427

Ch. 428 (Part I, Part II)

Ch. 429

Ch. 430

Ch. 431

Ch. 432

Ch. 433

Ch. 434

Ch. 435

Ch. 436

Ch. 437

Ch. 438

Ch. 439

Ch. 440

Ch. 441

Ch. 442

Lookism Reddit Memes I Found:

Lookism Fans and Their Fav. Characters

Story Memes:

Rendezvous: Old Reliable

Cursed Memes:

Part 1

CURSED DRAWING OF GUN PARK

Individual Character Memes/Scenarios/Headcannons:

Lookism Characters and their perfumes

Random Lookism Thoughts I Get in Class (part 1, part 2)

Lookism Characters Attending A Christmas Party

Lookism Characters and Their Favorite Disneyland Rides

Lookism Characters and Their Tastes in Music ♪

Lookism Characters (Best & Worst Uber Drivers)

[ultrainstinctslasher]

You Can Know Ch. 1

Michael Myers x Reader

Notes: Short beginning. Hopefully the chapters get longer

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buzzing. Beeping. Chattering. Doors sliding open. Doors sliding closed. Whispers. Screams. 

The place was full of noise. It was always too loud. He never liked it. Never liked hearing the machinery, the nurses and doctors walking and talking, whispering about him or the other patients, the patients screaming and shouting and crying. Even the sound of the nurse's pen scribbling on the paper bothered him. But he made sure he never showed. That no one knew what bothered him.

Dr. Samuel Loomis had done him a great favor isolating him from the rest of the hospital, keeping him locked in his room with limited staff interaction, not allowed to leave his room unless guards were at his side. It wasn’t because of his sensitivity to noise. After all, Loomis knew nothing of Michael Myers. He made sure of it. Rather, the doctor was convinced that Michael was ‘evil.’ That he had the ‘Devil’s Eyes.’

Loomis’ perception of Michael was not just. Throughout Michael’s stay in the hospital, he had not killed, hurt, or defied anyone at the hospital. But had also not spoken, expressed or interacted with anyone. But Michael did not care about the title given to him. What he truly cared about belonged only for him to know.

Michaels room was bland and empty. The walls were blank and white. It smelt of metal and medicine. The bed had one pillow and one blanket, both flattened through years of use. A small washroom with no shower attached by a curtained door frame. They didn’t even give him a door. He could do something dangerous. There was a small desk with a chair to match, neither quite big enough for Michael to sit in comfortably. On the desk, there were some books given to Michael from Loomis to see if they would interest him. They did not, and stayed untouched where they were left. His desk once held some crayons and pencils along with some paper for him to use. He used them, though not frequently. He made sure no one knew he did. He did not like people to know. They were taken away. Too dangerous. He could hurt someone.

He didn’t have a dresser like most of the patients did. He was given his clothes before the short showers he was allowed to take. Michael thought about it sometimes, how he wasn’t given one. Were they worried that he would use it to hurt someone? But they had given him a table. Michael concluded that they did not care about him. Other than the bed, desk, and chair, Michael’s room was completely empty. He had seen the other patients room’s when he walked past them. They had more things. They can leave their rooms.

Michael couldn’t do much. Even if he could, he wouldn’t. He would wake up, take the occasional shower when they would take him to the washrooms, and sit on his too small of a chair looking towards the wall. Sometimes the guards would take him to talk to Dr Loomis. He did not have a window. Not one looking outside. Along with less possessions, Michael was also given less privacy. While others’ rooms were closed off completely, only unlockable by the patients themselves or the staff during emergencies, Michaels’ room had a wide window on the wall facing the hall. People could see him when they walked past the hallway. He did not like that. He doesn’t want people to see him.

Not many people passed the hallway. He was the only patient residing there. Only certain nurses came into his room, along with the guards and Loomis. A couple more people passed the hallway but never interacted with him. Dr. Loomis’ other patients. His office was at the end of the hallway. It was not an accident that he was so close. The other patients did not like looking at his eyes. No one did. He didn’t like them looking at him. But he liked seeing them feel scared. It felt right. Most of the time he was facing the wall. But sometimes he liked to face the window.

Loomis’ patients decreased the more Michael stayed under his care. At first, it was because he wanted to dedicate more time to studying him. Then it was because he became more stressed, more tired. Michael knew all of Loomis’ patients. Not their names, their faces. There are not many. He knows when they come. He also knows that not all of them live here. Not all of them are caged like he is, like the other patients are. They were free. They would look at him crudely. They knew what he did. They heard rumors. Patients did as well, but they were scared of him. They wouldn’t look at him like that. They would not look at him. Those who did not live here also did not wear a uniform.

There was one patient he really focused on. She did not come very often. She came once every month, on the third Thursday. He knew that. She was from outside the hospital, but never looked at him like the others did. The first time he saw her, she took a glimpse at the glass, then turned when she realized someone was there. Was she scared of him? Or did she not want to invade his privacy? She did not look scared. The second time he saw her, she looked at him with sympathy. As if she did not wish for him what he had. Did she know what he did? She probably does. He heard the nurses say that everyone in the state knew. 

He did not like the look. It was new. It made him feel odd. But he didn’t hate you. He did not like you either. He never felt like gouging your eyes out when you saw him, but he still did not want you to look at him. There were times where you did not come. He did not like that even more.

Nurses have been nosier around him lately. More careless. They knew his court date was near. They knew he was leaving soon, either to a new facility or to jail. Michael did not like that. He did not like the extra noise.

Michael did not like people knowing. And so he won’t let them know.

[stardustbarbarians]

Too Pretty For War

Chapter 1 (ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9)

A Samuel Kiszka / fem!reader fic

Summary: The only way for Prince Sam to end a war is by marrying the enemy.

Tags: Prince!Sam, war, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, angst

Trigger Warnings: blood, death, nightmares, grief

A/N: Hi uhhhh I wasn't expecting to finish part one tonight but here were are. This fic is dedicated to @safety-sam whom this fic would not exist without her daring me to write it. If you read my other fics you'll know I like to name my fics after songs, but this time the title comes from me uttering the exact words of the title upon see the AI generate warrior Sam. As always, I appreciate your feedback <3. Please enjoy! (Also this is about to be filled with historical inaccuracies but I will try my best to keep it accurate where I can)

Words: 2.1 k

+++

Thirteen years. Thirteen years of war had been tearing apart the country that Sam called home. Ever since the age of ten, battle had been his reality. He has had to sacrifice so much for something so ridiculous, but what he has had to sacrifice pales in comparison to what his people have had to. So many mothers, wives, and children were without their sons, husbands and fathers all in the name of protecting their country over a scuffle that meant nothing.

“Please, father, just attempt to make peace with them. This fighting has gone on long enough,” Samuel pleaded, kneeling in front of the king sitting high atop his throne. Every time he spoke to his father, it always seemed to be while he was on the throne. He never got to speak to his father.

“You beg upon deaf ears, Samuel. Let it go. I will hear you speak of this no further,” the king sternly ordered, his face imitating the marble statues decorating the palace.

Knowing when he had lost, Sam got up from the floor and swept out of the room. He was furious. Couldn’t his father see all the harm he was causing on both sides??

Much like how most conversations with his father ended, the prince sought out his best friend in order to vent his frustrations concerning the king and this war. Without so much as knocking, Samuel stormed into his best friend’s living quarters.

“He will see no reason!!” the royal blared, pacing back and forth across the floor.

“Good evening to you as well, Sam,” Daniel dryly greeted. He was pouring over academic texts that went far beyond the prince’s knowledge. But that’s why he was part of the court in the first place; he was training to become Jake’s advisor.

“Does he not understand the torment and strain he is putting on this kingdom?! If he does not end this war soon, the people will ask for his head!!” Sam continued as if Daniel hadn’t said a word. He had one hand on his hip while his other rubbed at his forehead, the cape he wore brushing against his elbow while his fingers were poked by the heavy gold leaves digging into his scalp.

“You and I both know this is a matter of pride-”

“IS PRIDE WORTH THE BLOOD OF THOUSANDS OF MEN?!”

At his outburst, the room went silent. The pair of friends gazed at one another, Sam’s chest heaving as it attempted to keep pace with his anger. While the scholar’s face was blank, in his eyes Sam saw the compassion and pity swirling in them.

With a deep sigh, Daniel stood up from behind his desk. The prince stayed in his place while the scholar approached. He placed a hand on the prince’s shoulder. This wasn’t the first time this discussion occurred between them. “There is nothing in this world that is worth a person’s blood.”

Sam deflated at the touch. Daniel was one of the handful of people that saw the prince at his most vulnerable; he was the only one of non-blood relation, as well. The prince found himself leaning into the touch, if only slightly. He closed his eyes and let all of his fury seep out and calm at Daniel’s touch.

“Who else needs to die for this war to end?” Sam whispered. It was barely loud enough for Daniel to hear.

He couldn’t see it, but the scholar’s face shifted to one of empathy. He knew the amount of guilt the prince held due to his father’s stubbornness.

Sam suddenly was overly aware of the weight of his golden crown, his head hanging in shame. He felt his friend’s hand brush against his cheek in an act of solidary.

“If you can’t convince him, I’m afraid no one can.”

+++

After the sun had sleepily slipped below the horizon and the stars and moon partook in their duty of illuminating the inky sky, the prince laid in bed. He hadn’t even seen his father at dinner, the king off making battle plans with his war advisors. That left his mother, his sister Veronica, and Danile at the table. It had been silent and tense. The one person who could diffuse the tension was long gone.

His mind busy with thoughts racing around inside of it, Samuel fell into a restless sleep.

He dreamed of blood, of weapons. Of mothers falling to the ground in mourning for the death of their sons. Out of their mouths was the voice of his own mother, her haunting wailing sending chills down to his bone. Suddenly, it was the queen crumpled to the ground under the weight of her loss. In her arms was none other than Sam’s older brother who was off fighting the war. The crowned prince and next in line for the throne was being cradled by their mother as blood gushed out of a gaping wound in his chest. It gurgled out of his lips as he attempted to speak, his skin turning ever pale as he reached a hand out towards Sam. Before Sam could reach him, his arm went limp. He had lost his brother to the war.

“Samuel!!”

With a gasp, Sam was jolted awake. Covered in sweat despite the frigid temperature of his skin, Sam frantically looked around to find himself in his bed and not on the battlefield. It took a moment longer for him to realize that he wasn’t alone.

“Daniel,” he muttered, sitting up properly to address the scholar. He rubbed a hand down his face, taking a moment to compose himself.

“Yeah, it’s me. You’re in your room with me,” he reminded the prince. The two of them had gotten into the habit of soothing each other through the horrors of life.

Sam nodded, looking around once more just to be safe. Neither spoke, the subdued noises of the night substituting conversation. The monotonous yet calming crashing of waves against the beach near Samuel’s window grounded him as well as the presence of his best friend.

“Nightmares again?” Daniel finally asked, pushing one of his curls out of the way of his eyes. His torso was exposed, the light of the moon reflecting off his skin.

“How could you tell?” he asked after nodding his head in confirmation. Sam’s voice was rough, cracking upon use and sounding as if he had swallowed sand.

That was when Daniel looked away. He always made an effort to look his best friend in the eyes, knowing that Sam’s own father hardly glanced at his youngest. “You were screaming Jake’s name.”

At the name, Sam’s breath caught in his throat. He felt the tears prickle in his eyes, glancing away from Daniel. It was a ridiculous act, really. Daniel had seen the prince cry on so many occasions; but he was a man, and men don’t cry.

“He died in mother’s arms,” Sam shakily informed, looking out towards the moon and still refusing to look at his best friend. He wrapped his arms around himself, the wind chilling his sweat-slicked skin.

Once again, Daniel offered his best friend the comfort of physical touch. He leaned over and placed a hand on the prince’s shin. Instantly, Sam felt warmth bloom inside of him from the simple act.

“Do you think they mean something? These night terrors?”

The scholar sighed. He remained silent as he searched the caverns of his mind to come up with the best answer to Sam’s question.

“You need rest. That’s what I think,” he softly spoke, his tone warm like a summer’s morning.

They stayed like that for a moment, finding much needed comfort in one another’s presence. Without any more words spoken, however, Daniel instated his own advice and made to leave. Sam regretfully watched as Daniel walked towards his door, the scholar turning to look at Sam as he opened it.

“Goodnight, Samuel.”

“Goodnight, Daniel.”

And just like that, Sam was alone again.

+++

The next morning, Sam was interrupted from his sparring lessons to be summoned to the throne room by his father’s request. More than a little confused, the prince set down his sword and wiped the sweat off his skin before making his way to be in his father’s presence.

Upon entering, his guard was up instantly. He spotted his father, his mother, Veronica, and Daniel, no one else. The sound of the doors closing heavily behind the prince bounced off the stone walls and amplified it tenfold. As he walked towards the front of the room he found an array of emotions on his family’s faces ranging from confusion to sorrow.

“Now that you are all present, I’m afraid I have horrible news,” the king announced, addressing the four people gathered in front of him. He couldn’t explain how he knew, but Sam got the impression that he was barely holding onto his identity as the king. It seemed as if he was struggling to carry himself with that regality that the prince had come to loathe so wholly since his boyhood.

No one spoke, waiting with baited breath for the patriarch to continue. Under normal conditions, Sam wouldn’t be able to hear the way his father’s breath hitched. But much like the closing doors, it reverberated off the walls and amplified it.

“Jacob was slain last week.”

Sam’s mother cried out in horror, her hands coming to cover her mouth as her knees gave out. Acting on instinct alone, the lone son lunged out to capture her in his arms. He carefully lowered her to the floor, caressing her arm as she sobbed violently into her son’s chest.

It was too much like his dream last night. At least the reality had a lot less blood to be seen.

“His death has moved me to consider peace negotiations.” The king’s voice trembled. Sam was right, he was barely keeping it together.

The prince was barely paying him any mind. His attention was mostly focused on the way his mother repeated “no” in a soft mantra that did nothing but further fracture the young prince’s heart. He rested his head on top of her’s, gently rocking her back and forth in an attempt to comfort her through her unsurmountable grief.

“As such: Veronica, you will be married to the Spartan prince. I will send a messenger before the sun sets to-”

“No!”

All eyes were on the prince. He hadn’t realized he protested until he gained the attention of the room. Sighing deeply, Sam looked to his sister so that she could comfort her while he spoke to his father.

“No? You finally get what you have demanded for years and you say ‘no’?” The tone his father used made Sam feel like he was a child again. The prince closed his eyes and swallowed against every instinct that told him to back down.

“With Jacob… Now that…”

Blinking back tears and straightening his posture, Sam tried again.

“As I am next in line for the throne, I will need a wife to be the future queen,” Samuel began, internally proud of himself at how even his tone sounded.

“Samuel-”

“Hush, Daniel, please,” Sam silenced, finding his best friend’s concern as he looked at him and softening, “I know what I’m doing.”

The scholar stepped back, his brow knit. He clearly was against the prince’s train of thought, but he wouldn’t protest.

“The Spartans have a daughter. Allow me to marry her.”

“Sammy, please-”

“Ronnie, this is for your own good! They’ll torture you and commit unspeakable atrocities unto you!” the prince snapped, emotional at the idea of losing both his brother and sister on the same day. He could no longer hold back his tears.

“You seem to already have your mind set on this,” the king stated. Sam looked over at his father, catching what he thought could’ve been a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“I have, father.”

The room was silent once again. The only noise was that of his mother’s cries as she mourned her son. The king deliberated, looking to the floor as he pondered.

“I will send a messenger with your proposal.”

Feeling as if he could collapse under the weight of that sentence, the prince bowed to his father before rushing out of the room. He wasn’t sure if he had any destination in mind, but he found himself in Jake’s old room when he became cognizant again. Falling to his knees, Samuel screamed. From the depths of his soul, he screamed in sorrow and frustration.

“It wasn’t supposed to be you,” Sam choked out, speaking to the spirit of his dead brother. But what was supposed to happen no longer mattered. The facts were he was never coming back.

The facts were he would soon be betrothed to his brothers’ killer.

+++

Taglist:

@doodle417 @sammykiszkasunusedshoes @jmks-housewife @ageoferin @alwayssotiredbutneverofyou @etoilesnoor @ascendingtostardust @godlygreta @s0livagant @gretavanflowerpower @morganic-goods @dannythedog @baguettejuliette @fan-girl-97 @gaby-gvf @age-of-nyahh @mzbrightside @myownparadise96 @xserenax-13 @sammysvanfeet @loofypoofy @chalametpwk @seventieswhore @razorbladekiszka @kdarling1 @capturethechaos @unfortunatelykristin @welightthefire @gretavanfleas @sammiejane22 @satanplayshisfluteforhim @starsasone @mintysammykiszka @writingcold @tearsofbri @gretasmokerising @streamofstardust @lunaindigoraven @jakeydoesit @tripthelightfandomtastic @sunfl0wer-power @wingedgardener2000 @gretavanbitches @teddiie @gardensgatedaisy @sparrowofthedawnsworld @angelbabyyy99 @sammysprincess @whollyfreeamongststars @gretaswhore28 @l0rdoffli3s @kay-jordan

Taglist Form

[jamiesfootball]

the vacant house behind our home - ch 2

Splitting the difference and posting here before I post to AO3 in the morning.

Part 1 can be found here

A/N: contains horror elements, grief/mourning, mentions of supernatural violence

No man could be this cruel. This was the thought that crossed Ola's mind when he received the first letter, when he could not breathe through the stifling ache in his heart.

Not a day had passed without Ola drying the tears from his wife's cheeks, even as he ignored his own. Their youngest flighted from room to room. Nary a word had crossed his lips, though at night Ola can hear him praying. He had always been a quiet one, shy in his expressions. He would not begrudge the boy his space, butt he worried, and at night, he yearned. He yearned to hold his son safe at night when the grief rushed in fast like a flood to an empty gorge.

The funeral passed, with all its mercy and ruin, and Ola knew in his heart that while the grief was fresh, it was not a pain meant to dry. It would never be stale. Never would it lessen. It would bleed from his heart with his every step, for as long and as far as his heart endured to carry him forward, after being so roughly hewn from its branches.

The letter was addressed to him--not his wife. That was the only charity he'd allow this man who'd dared to send torment while Ola's eldest son's body touched dirt at the bottom of the sea.

His Samuel. His beautiful boy, with hopes and dreams a mere blush from his fingertips.

He was only nineteen. He would be nineteen forever.

And this man dared to write Ola a letter with his Sam's name printed on the corner of the envelope.

He had no words for the sear of emotions that cut through him, escaping from his mouth in a desperate whine as hate like he had never known coursed through him.

But for all that his hands trembled, he could not bear to drop any object bearing his son's name to the ground.

'It is unlikely that we will ever find his remains.'

For one word he opened the letter: hope. Awful, lingering, desperate hope.

Ola opened the letter with all the gentleness his son would always deserve.

He crumpled.

He read no more than two words before he hunched over at the waist, sobbing, breathless. He held the letter in his hands as if it were a still-beating heart. Carefully inked in a dedicated reflection of his own hand were two words, a gift Ola could scarcely believe in:

'Hello Daddy-'

Hello Daddy-

I am sorry that it has taken me so long to write. I have missed you so much! Truthfully, I can not seem to recall how long I have been away from home. Has it been months? I hope I have not worried you or mother.

I am not sure that the place where I have arrived is the place I intended to be, but it is not so bad. In some ways, it is rather lovely. The team I have joined, the Greyhounds, are a wonderful team full of (mostly) wonderful people. Our coach, Roy Kent, is very demanding, but incredibly skilled in many areas. He says he played for England, although he cannot remember when and I presume this is why he is so informed. Already he has taught me much about strategy, technique, aggressive attack positions, and abjuration. His methods for physical conditioning can be quite rigorous, but at least we do not have to play when the weather is screeching (he has sensitive ears). My football is much improved already! Although I do wish you could see me. I wish I could see anyone, anyone at all outside our town, but that is not how things work here.

The football I am playing here is far different from how I played back at home. At times it seems as though we are able to read each others thoughts, the way we move as one across the field. When I first arrived, it was not as such. We lost many balls over the gate, whereupon Coach Kent must disappear to find them. He as an exceptional coach with an exceptional temper, so we try not to let this happen.

The man who speaks on the local radio, Ted, he refers to our home as the Dog Track. It doubles as our training pitch, where we may prepare for what lies ahead. It is a selective establishment that does not permit many within its walls, and only those of us who have joined the Greyhounds are allowed inside. The man on the radio is very kind. Despite the fact that I have never laid eyes on him, he has always been willing to answer my questions. In some ways, he is also my coach, with a wealth of knowledge so vast, it often seems as though he has been around forever. Perhaps this is why I do not always understand his references, although that could just be a facet of living in [----------].

I am doing well, for all that I cannot seem to remember what I am doing most days. Indeed, I do not even remember my arrival. There was a problem with the airplane. I believe we began to take in water. Then the water turned to rain, as light as a gentle mist, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself standing on a verdant pitch.

Indeed it seems as though most of us have suffered some sort of struggle immediately before coming to [----------]. The others here with me, they also appeared in similar circumstances, although some of their stories sound more outlandish than mine.

Isaac, our team's captain, says he was drafted after he accidentally knocked over a television set. He said that Roy appeared and offered him the captain's band. A promotion is a promotion, yes?

Theirry, our team's goalie, says he is actually not a football goalie at all--he is a hockey goalie, which is why the mask is attached to his face and cannot be removed no matter how hard we pull.

Another of my friends, Colin, he will not say what happened to him. He says that all that matters is that his boyfriend is safe. He hopes that his boyfriend is safe.

Another, Richard, says he was kicked in the head by a goat(?)

Our friend Jan refuses to believe that we are not in the Netherlands. I do not know enough to disprove him, but he is right about most all things, so I do not argue.

One of my teammates also believes that we are all individually suffering from cacodemonomania, but that is just silly. Moe can be excitable and prone to conspiratorial thought experiments, so we try not to take him too seriously, despite the fact that he can be quite convincing, especially to newcomers.

Only one of my new teammates is newer than me. I believe he arrived during the winter transfer window--or, at least, it was snowing at the time, so I assume it was the winter transfer window. How long have I been away? In the beginning I admit I did not care for him. He was arrogant, and rude, and made awful remarks about my skills as a player, and he did not constrain his comments to a professional scope. He was quite hurtful, and oh Daddy, I wished so badly for your wisdom in the matter. I do not think I have ever met a person with such teeth in their soul.

He bit me once for daring to mention my home and the family I had left behind. I had only gotten as far as to tell him I had a little brother, when a pain like I have never known seized upon me, like knives twisting deep between each of my ribs. It was as if someone snatched the sun out of the sky.

Honestly, I do not think he meant to harm me. I think I scared him. I told him, "I do not wish to frighten you," and he asked, "Am I in hell?" so I do not know what he heard in its place. He sees threats where there are none. He sees violence where there is friendship. For all that he has improved, there is still poison in him, and no amount of care can make the poison drain any faster.

He did not even have a name when he arrived--instead he had a collar that bore initials like a ship bears an anchor. That was before Trent {[][]]][[[//][][]\][]\\\[][-]-

The initials do not belong to him alone

That was a while ago. Since then, he has proven to be a reliable ally, one who is capable of baring those teeth at opposing teams, when given the proper signal. He is trying. I did not originally wish to accept his apology, only some things happened-when the repo[[][]]\[[]/\[]]][/\\/[[

Daddy, if there is one thing Jamie has done that will forever tip the scales in his favor it is this: he has helped me write this letter to you. Him and another newcomer, Trent C[]rimm/], T\h]e I||nep/nde][n|t||--seem to have retained some knowledge of--

They seem to remember--

They understand that the place we are in is--

They helped me remem

Address book-

There are rules in this place that I do not understand. I am lucky to have others who, to put it delicately, are more comfortable navigating in a world where the truth is often no more than a rug waiting to be pulled away.

For this alone, I would consider him a friend, but he is so much more than that. For reasons too delicate to put to words, his presence has lit in me a strong desire to return home. I want to hug you. I want to hug everybody. I miss my home, in a way I know he does not.

I hope that when I am able to leave this place, you can meet my friend. I have been practicing your recipes, but it is not the same. I miss cooking with you, Daddy, and I would like my friend to believe me for once when I tell him that your cooking is not just better--it is worth living for.

This place is strange but I have made a friend of its strangeness. But that does not matter. Lately I have missed you, I have missed home, to a degree which steals my breath away with its frost. For all my growing familiarity, one day I will make this place a stranger. I will return, and when I do I will bring those that are my new home with me.

I still hope to play for Nigeria one day.

I cannot wait to see you all soon. In the meantime, please give all the love that you would give to me to Mummy and James.

Yours, always,

Sam

[cosmicanger]

🚨🚨🚨THE ORGANIZERS THAT DISRUPTED PRESIDENT BIDEN’S SPEECH AT MOTHER EMANUEL AME CHURCH IN CHARLESTON, TO DEMAND A CEASE FIRE ON GAZA, HAVE RELEASED A STATEMENT WITH DEMANDS. (amplifying the statement)🚨🚨🚨

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Media Contact: Marcus McDonald

freepalestinechs@gmail.com

UPDATED STATEMENT ON PRES. BIDEN CAMPAIGN DISRUPTION IN CHARLESTON

PRESENTED BY FREE PALESTINE CHARLESTON

JAN 8, 1:00 PM EST, CHARLESTON - Six members of Free Palestine Charleston on Jan. 8 participated in a disruption to call for a ceasefire in Gaza during Pres. Joe Biden's speech at Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston. A crowd of over 100 people simultaneously gathered at a permitted event in Marion Square to show our support for Palestine.

Biden's refusal to call for a ceasefire, ongoing arms transfers to Israel without Congress approval, and failure to acknowledge that Israel's actions constitute genocide as outlined in the U.N. Genocide Convention a treaty that the United States is a signatory to) demonstrate that he is more than complicit in genocide; he is an active participant.

Free Palestine CHS recognizes the delicate nature of this action given the Mother Emanuel AME massacre less than a decade prior and the sanctity of the church itself to many members of the community. The nonviolent demonstration was planned by local Black and Palestinian leaders in consultation with members of the AME community to respect the church's history.

We decided the best way to honor the church's mass shooting victims and its long history as a site of civil disobedience would be to wait until Pres. Joe Biden began his speech to disrupt, rather than detracting from any of the church's esteemed Black elders or devaluing a place of worship.

But to be clear, this was not a church service; it was a political campaign event.

Several Black congregants associated with Free Palestine CHS were also singled out and denied entry to the event, including lead Charleston Black Lives Matter organizer Marcus McDonald.

"We find it so disrespectful that President Biden has come to the place of a massacre while actively benefiting and promoting a genocide and a massacre in Gaza," McDonald said.

"My church missed the mark. It missed the call of Jesus to choose the oppressed the orphan, the widow, and the refugee over the empire. President Biden has no place speaking from our pulpit to invoke the lives lost at Emanuel while simultaneously ignoring the thousands of lives lost in Gaza, the bombing of Bethlehem, and apartheid in the Holy Land. I stand in the heritage of protest that birthed the AME church to issue the only righteous call: to "study war no more." We are not free until Palestine is free," said Pastor Darien Jones of Moncks Corner AME.

As residents and community members of Charleston, we know that all struggles for liberation are intertwined. Atrocities committed against Black folks in the U.S. and Palestinians in Gaza have always belonged to the same system of violence. Bishop Samuel L. Green spoke of Malcolm X and James Baldwin as two righteous leaders in his introductory remarks — both famously strongly supported Palestine for their entire lives and careers as civil right activists.

So, as one of our members said to begin the disruption: "If you really care about the lives lost here, then you should honor the lives lost and call for a ceasefire in Palestine!"

We must pressure our elected officials at the local, state and federal levels. But our work doesn't begin or end with a ceasefire. We believe liberation means freedom and justice for all those living in occupied Palestine.

We believe in humanity and joy — not only an end to this horrific genocide, but a world in which Palestinians can grow old alongside their friends and family. We acknowledge the absurdity of having to even make this ask.

Our demands consist of the following:

I. An end to the deadly exchange - the transfer and manufacturing of weapons among the Israeli government, the United States government and oppressive government regimes throughout the world. Among the exchange 2022 program participants was Deputy Chief Dustin Thompson, Operations Bureau Commander. Charleston Police

Department Charleston ex-chief of police, the late Luther Reynolds, participated in

2018. And former sheriff Al Cannon attended a similar summit in Israel in 2009. His trip cost $3,000 and was financed via "seized drug funds," the S.C. Post & Courier wrote.

2. An end to the normalization of Zionism and violence against Palestinians in every aspect of our lives, including but not limited to media narratives, institutional support, and government backing. Zionism is a political ideology, rooted in white supremacy and Western imperialism that promotes the belief in the establishment of a Jewish state on historic Palestinian land. Evangelical Zionism funds the majority of contributions to Israel and is one of the most powerful lobbies in politics.

3. Accountability for elected officials who actively support - and even praise - Israel's war crimes. Our State Treasurer recently signed a bond allotting $30 million of our tax dollars to further Israel's mass murder of Palestinian men, women and children.

We do not want our tax dollars supporting genocide!

4. An end to Elbit Systems, a facility manufacturing weapons the 1OF currently uses to commit its crimes against humanity, operating in Ladson, South Carolina. Elbit Systems, invested $35 million in the relocation and recently opened its 135,000 square foot plant in Ladson. It receives tax cuts for its investment: "A 2019 fiscal year report disclosed that companies' extra revenue diverted $423 million from public schools across the state, disproportionately low-income schools with mostly Black and brown students."

5. A Free Palestine.

We refuse to remain silent. Our peaceful act of disruption during Biden's speech - including our full compliance with US Secret Service agents - and the demonstration at Marion Square were committed to that end drawing attention to the horrors our elected officials want us to forget about, despite funding them with our tax dollars. Pres. Biden responded to our action with a vague mumbling about how he is negotiating with the Israeli government: we need more than empty promises and ambiguous words.

From Holy City to Holy City: Charleston demands a ceasefire, a free Palestine, and an end to Charleston taxpayer money funding Israel.

###

Free Palestine CHS is a multicultural, grassroots collective committed to an anti-imperialist, anti-colonial, and anti-Zionist framework for Palestinian liberation. We believe in the dignity and sovereignty of all people in occupied Palestine. You can find out more about our work here: www.linktr.ee/freepalestinechs

[ghelgheli]

The Stuff I Read in September 2023

Stuff I Extra Liked Is Bold

Books

Orphans of the Sky, Robert A. Heinlein

Starship Troopers, Robert A. Heinlein

Revenant Gun, Yoon Ha Lee

All Systems Red, Martha Wells

Artificial Condition, Martha Wells

Rogue Protocol, Martha Wells

Exit Strategy, Martha Wells

Friendship Poems, ed. Peter Washington

Introduction to Linear Algebra, ch. 1-3, Gilbert Strang

Manga (mostly yuri [really all yuri])

Yagate Kimi ni Naru / Bloom Into You, Nio Nakatani

Kaketa Tsuki to Dōnattsu / Doughnuts Under a Crescent Moon, Shio Usui

Onna Tomodachi to Kekkon Shitemita / Trying Out Marriage With My Female Friend, Shio Usui

Kimi no Tame ni Sekai wa Aru / The World Exists for You, Shio Usui

Teiji ni Agaretara / If We Leave on the Dot, Ayu Inui

Nikurashii Hodo Aishiteru / I Love You So Much I Hate You, Ayu Inui

Tsukiatte Agetemo Ī Kana / How Do We Relationship? Tamifull

Himegoto - Juukyuusai no Seifuku / Uniforms at the Age of Nineteen, Ryou Minenami

Colorless Girl, Honami Shirono

Short Fiction

It gets so lonely here, ebi-hime [itch.io]

Aye, and Gomorrah, Samuel R. Delaney [strange horizons]

Evolutionary Game Theory

Red Queen and Red King Effects in cultural agent-based modeling: Hawk Dove Binary and Systemic Discrimination, S. M. Amadae & Christopher J. Watts [doi]

The Evolution of Social Norms, H. Peyton Young [doi]

The Checkerboard Model of Social Interaction, James Sakoda [doi]

Dynamic Models of Segregation, Thomas C. Schelling [doi]

Towards a Unified Science of Cultural Evolution, Alex Mesoudi, Andrew Whiten, Kevin N. Laland [doi]

Is Human Cultural Evolution Darwinian? Alex Mesoudi, Andrew Whiten, Kevin N. Laland [doi]

Gender/Sexuality/Queer Stuff (up to several degrees removed)

Re-orienting Desire: The Gay International and the Arab World, Joseph Massad [link]

The Empire of Sexuality, Joseph Massad (interview) [link]

The Bare Bones of Sex, Anne Fausto-Sterling [jstor]

On the Biology of Sexed Subjects, Helen Keane & Marsha Rosengarten [doi]

Vacation Cruises: Or, the Homoerotics of Orientalism, Joseph A. Boone [jstor]

Romancing the Transgender Native: Rethinking the Use of the “Third Gender” Concept, Evan B. Towle & Lynn M. Morgan [doi]

Scientific Racism and the Emergence of the Homosexual Body, Siobhan Somerville [jstor]

White Sexual Imperialism: A Theory of Asian Feminist Jurisprudence, Sunny Woan [link]

Haunted by the 1990s: Queer Theory’s Affective Histories, Kadji Amin [jstor]

Annoying Anthro

The Sexual Division of Labor, Rebecca B. Bird, Brian F. Codding [researchgate]

Factors in the Division of Labor by Sex: A Cross-Cultural Analysis, George P. Murdock & Caterina Provost [jstor]

Biosocial Construction of Sex Differences and Similarities in Behavior, Wendy Wood & Alice H. Eagly [doi]

Political Theory

Some critics argue that the Internal Colony Theory is outdated. Here’s why they’re wrong, Patrick D. Anderson [link]

Toward a New Theory of Internal Colonialism, Charles Pinderhughes [link]

The Anatomy of Iranian Racism: Reflections on the Root Causes of South Azerbaijans Resistance Movement, Alireza Asgharzadeh [link]

The veil or a brother's life: French manipulations of Muslim women's images during the Algerian War, 1954–62, Elizabeth Perego [doi]

A Difficulty in the Concept of Social Welfare, Kenneth J. Arrow [jstor]

Manipulation of Voting Schemes: A General Result, Allan Gibbard [jstor]

China Has Billionaires, Roderic Day [redsails]

Other

Conversations I Can't Have, Cassandra Byers Harvin [proquest]

Earth system impacts of the European arrival and Great Dying in the Americas after 1492, Alexander Koch et al. [doi]

Why prisons are not “The New Asylums”, Liat Ben-Moshe [doi]

Uses of Value Judgments in Science: A General Argument, with Lessons from a Case Study of Feminist Research on Divorce, Elizabeth Anderson [doi]

Boundary Issues, Lily Scherlis [link]

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Fri[day] 28 October 1836

7 3/4

12 20/..

V

N

N

L

No kiss fine frosty morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 34 1/2° now at 8 50/.. a.m. out ab[ou]t till br[eak]f[a]st at 9 1/2 - A-  [Ann] d[i]d

h[e]r Fr[en]ch - out ag[ai]n at 10 1/4 – Ingh[a]m + 2 men and a boy at the parapet wall ov[e]r the dry wall arching –

Rob[er]t Mann + 3 lower[in]g and levell[in]g in front of the h[ou]se till 11 then took them off to prepare for mov[in]g the

heap of clay laid last y[ea]r ag[ain]st the gard[e]n wall - the run and all made ready and they beg[a]n mov[in]g the clay to the [foot]

the mound (to the east) of the rockwork immed[iatel]y aft[e]r their din[ner] – Rob[er]t Schof[iel]d and his man Jos[e]ph all the day wall[in]g

the hall-cellar drain - the gard[ene]r and Ch[arle]s and Ja[me]s How[art]h and John Booth and Mark Hepw[or]th help[in]g when they

c[oul]d to clear the orch[ar]d – lit[tle] trace left of an orch[ar]d this ev[enin]g - Mark Hepw[or]th levell[in]g soil aft[e]r the N[orth]g[a]te

carts on the gr[ea]t embankment in front of the h[ou]se - Frank cart[in]g for Ingh[a]m st[one] fr[om] the gard[e]n wall in the morn[in]g and rag

throughs fr[om] Hipperh[olme] quarry in the aft[ernoo]n - Booth the gr[eate]r part of the day and 2 masons all the day at the west tow[e]r

2 masons jobb[in[g – prepar[in]g for the top of the drab-r[oo]m chim[ne]y (hew[e]d by the 2 hewers Ja[me]s Murgatroyde and

Booths’ son Jos[e]ph and w[oul]d ha[ve] been put up but for the windy days we ha[ve] late[l]y h[a]d) - and prepar[in]g

lancet-lights for the groin[e]d dry wall arch - In the gard[e]n and ab[ou]t all the day exc[ept] fr[om] about 2 to 4 when

saunt[ere]d d[o]wn the walk - and along the low[e]r brea daisy bank thro’ Wellroyde wood int[o] the N[or]thow[ra]m r[oa]d to so[me]

dist[an]ce ab[ou]t Upper brea - to where Shibd[e]n is 1st seen - stood compar[in]g the diff[eren]t points of view –

ret[urne]d by the Stump X Inn and the Lodge – 1/2 h[ou]r there talk[in]g to Matty for Hannah Pearson the cook here

20 y[ea]rs ago h[a]d been at the hall and call[e]d on her way b[a]ck to see Matty - poor Hannah! she told me how I w[a]s

altered – so[me]bod[y] h[a]d told h[e]r lately how m[u]ch I w[a]s aged - But she d[i]d n[o]t kno[w] she sh[oul]d expect

me to look just as I us[e]d to do - no! s[aid] I, you ha[ve] n[o]t seen me these 20 y[ea]rs - it is ti[me] for

me to be alt[ere]d - it is fr[om] s[u]ch peop[le] one hears the  truth - I h[a]d th[ou]ght, on her ent[erin]g the

r[oo]m, she w[a]s grown an old wom[a]n - so chang[e]d I might n[o]t ha[ve] known her en passant –

b[u]t I made no rem[ar]k on this to her – ho[me] ab[ou]t 4 – w[i]th Rob[er]t Mann at the clay mov[in]g and ab[ou]t

till ca[me] in at 6 – dress[e]d – direct[e]d and seal[e]d and s[e]nt off by Frank tonight my notes (writ[ten]

last night and dat[e]d yest[erday]) to ‘Mr. Hoyland Gibbet-lane’ order[in]g a hatch[men]t for my a[un]t to be done as soon

as poss[ible] - and my no[te] to ‘Dr. Kenny Ward’s end’ enclos[in]g a guin[ea] (a sov[erei]gn and a shil[ling]) sor[ry] that

this sm[all] debt of w[hi]ch I w[a]s n[o]t aware h[a]d been so long unacknowledg[e]d – din[ner] at 6 35/.. – coff[ee]

upst[ai]rs - A- [Ann] r[ea]d h[e]r Fr[en]ch - I asleep on the sofa 1/2 h[ou]r - A-  [Ann] h[a]d let[ter] tonight fr[om] Messrs. Gray –

the complet[io]n of her Radcliffe purchase to be at the White Swan H[alifa]x on Tues[day] - Mr. S. Washingt[o]n

to attend - A- [Ann] annoy[e]d - we all al[on]g th[ou]ght of go[in]g to York - she h[a]d n[o]t wish[e]d the purch[a]se to be

complet[e]d here and for Mr. SW- [Samuel Washington] to ha[ve] an[y]th[in]g to do w[i]th it - at 10 20/.. p.m. h[a]d just writ[ten] all the ab[ov]e of today

at wh[ic]h h[ou]r F[ahrenheit] 33° ver[y] fine cold frosty day -  

 How m[u]ch I chang[e]d

[captawesomesauce]

Thoughts at 7pm...

I tag my books in Calibre with people and places and things I think will come up again and again across books. 

This can be a slow and agonizing process, but I find that I keep coming back to it over and over again, because I’ll read a book years later that mentions a battle on Hill 488 and think... fuck, what book was it that I read about that from someone else’s perspective?!!?!? 

Tags help with that. 

I don’t tag everything, or everyone... just stuff I have a feeling will come up over and over, and yet for a single book I’ll end up with this:

Averell Harriman, Bess Clements Abell, Camp David, Catoctin Mountains MD, CH-34 Choctaw, CH-46 Sea Knight, Chaplain, CIA, CIDG, From LAPL, General Herman Nickerson, General Samuel B. Griffith, General William Westmoreland, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, John F. Kennedy, Lady Bird Johnson, Martin Luther King Jr, Maryland, North Korea, Okinawa, Okinawa - Northern Training Area (NTA), Robert McNamara, Soviet FROG-3 Missile, SpecOps, US Capitol Building, USA 3rd Infantry Regiment, USAF Kadena Airbase, USAID John Paul Vann, USMC, USMC 12th Marines, USMC 1st Force Recon Co, USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Brisbane (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Circumstance (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Club Car (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Countersign (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Killer Kane (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Swift Scout (Vietnam War), USMC 1st MarDiv, USMC 1st Marine Air Wing, USMC 1st Marines, USMC 1st Marines - 1/1, USMC 1st Marines - 1/1 - F Co, USMC 1st Marines - 2/1, USMC 1st Marines - 2/1 - E Co, USMC 1st Recon Bn, USMC 1st Recon Bn - E Co, USMC 1st Tank Bn, USMC 26th Marines, USMC 26th Marines - 1/26, USMC 26th Marines - 1/26 - F Co, USMC 2LT Paul Young, USMC 3rd Marines, USMC 3rd Marines - 2/3, USMC 5th Marines, USMC 5th Marines - 2/5, USMC 5th Marines - 2/5 - F Co, USMC 7th Marines, USMC 7th Marines - 1/7, USMC 7th Marines - 2/7, USMC 7th Marines - 2/7 - G Co, USMC 9th Marine Amphibious Brigade, USMC Air Observers - Black Coats (Vietnam War), USMC Camp Hansen, USMC Camp Pendleton, USMC Camp Schwab, USMC Col. Andrew Finlayson, USMC Force Recon, USMC LtCol Alex Lee, USMC Marine Barracks Washington (8th and I), USMC Scout Dogs, USMC SgtMaj Maurice J. Jacques, USMC The Basic School, USMC Washington Barracks Guard Co., USN Corpsman, USN LCDR Ray Stubbe (Chaplain), USN USS Pueblo (AGER 2), USNA, VNM 1968 Tet Offensive (1968) (Vietnam War), VNM A Shau Valley, VNM A Vuong River, VNM An Bang, VNM An Hoa, VNM An Long, VNM An Son, VNM Antenna Valley, VNM Ap Ba, VNM Arizona Territory, VNM Ba Na Mountain, VNM Base Area 112, VNM Battle of Hue City (1968) (Tet Offensive) (Vietnam War), VNM Battle of Khe Sanh (1968) (Tet Offensive) (Vietnam War), VNM Camp Hansen, VNM Camp Reasoner, VNM Charlie Med, VNM CIA Phung Hoang / Phoenix Program (1965-1972) (Vietnam War), VNM Col de Ba Lien, VNM Command and Control North/FOB-1 (Vietnam War), VNM Da Nang, VNM Da Son, VNM Dam Cao Hai Bay, VNM Dong Nhut Mountain, VNM DRV NVA 2nd Division, VNM DRV NVA 320th Reconnaissance Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 368th Artillery (Rocket) Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 3rd Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 402nd Sapper Battalion, VNM Elephant Valley, VNM Freedom Hill PX, VNM Happy Valley, VNM Hiep Duc, VNM Hill 170, VNM Hill 199, VNM Hill 203, VNM Hill 224, VNM Hill 324, VNM Hill 327, VNM Hill 35, VNM Hill 372, VNM Hill 381, VNM Hill 387, VNM Hill 406, VNM Hill 417, VNM Hill 441, VNM Hill 452, VNM Hill 454, VNM Hill 478, VNM Hill 498, VNM Hill 502, VNM Hill 537, VNM Hill 575 (Tam Dieo Mountain), VNM Hill 582 (Kon Chay Mountain), VNM Hill 592, VNM Hill 594, VNM Hill 623, VNM Hill 678, VNM Hill 749, VNM Hill 800, VNM Hill 89, VNM Ho Chi Minh Trail, VNM Hoi An Thuong, VNM Hon Cau Mountain, VNM Hue, VNM Khe Dienne River, VNM Khe Gio tributary, VNM Khuong Dai, VNM Loc Tu, VNM LZ Finch, VNM MEDCAP, VNM Mortar Valley, VNM Nam O Bridge, VNM Ninh Dinh, VNM Ninh Khanh, VNM Ninh Long, VNM Nong Son Coal Mine, VNM Nui Ba Hoa, VNM Nui Chom, VNM Nui Nhu, VNM Nui Son Ga (Charlie Ridge), VNM Ong Thu Slope, VNM Operation Arizona (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Calhoun (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Claxon (1968) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Knox (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Pecos (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Snoopy (People Sniffer) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Union I (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Union II (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Wheeler (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Phouc Ly, VNM Phouc Tuong, VNM Phouc Tuong (Dogpatch), VNM Phu Bai, VNM Phu Gia Pass, VNM Phu Loc, VNM Quang Duc Duc, VNM Quang Nam Province, VNM Quang Tri Province, VNM Que Son Mountains, VNM Que Son Valley, VNM Route 1, VNM Route 545, VNM RVN RVNP CSDB PRU Provincial Reconnaissance Units (Vietnam War), VNM Saigon, VNM Song Cu De, VNM Song Ly Ly, VNM Song Thu Bon, VNM Song Tinh Yen, VNM Song Vu Gia, VNM Song Yang, VNM Tam Kho, VNM Tam Talou Tributary, VNM Thach Bich, VNM The Enchanted Forest, VNM The Garden of Eden, VNM Thua Thien Province, VNM Thuan Long, VNM Thuong Duc, VNM Ti Tau Mountain, VNM Trang Bang, VNM Trao Hamlet, VNM Tu Phu, VNM US MACVSOG (1964-1972) (Vietnam War), VNM US MACVSOG Road Runner Teams (Vietnam War), VNM USMC AHCB An Hoa Combat Base (Vietnam War), VNM USMC Combined Action Platoon, VNM USMC KSCB Khe Sanh Combat Base (Vietnam War), VNM Vietnam, VNM Vietnam War (1955-1975), VNM Yellow Brick Road, Washington D.C

Thankfully I can easily use calibre’s tag search function to grab what I need!

[lordgodjehovahsway]

2 Samuel 1: David Is Told The News That Saul And His Sons Are Dead

1 After the death of Saul, David returned from striking down the Amalekites and stayed in Ziklag two days. 

2 On the third day a man arrived from Saul’s camp with his clothes torn and dust on his head. When he came to David, he fell to the ground to pay him honor.

3 “Where have you come from?” David asked him.

He answered, “I have escaped from the Israelite camp.”

4 “What happened?” David asked. “Tell me.”

“The men fled from the battle,” he replied. “Many of them fell and died. And Saul and his son Jonathan are dead.”

5 Then David said to the young man who brought him the report, “How do you know that Saul and his son Jonathan are dead?”

6 “I happened to be on Mount Gilboa,” the young man said, “and there was Saul, leaning on his spear, with the chariots and their drivers in hot pursuit. 

7 When he turned around and saw me, he called out to me, and I said, ‘What can I do?’

8 “He asked me, ‘Who are you?’

“‘An Amalekite,’ I answered.

9 “Then he said to me, ‘Stand here by me and kill me! I’m in the throes of death, but I’m still alive.’

10 “So I stood beside him and killed him, because I knew that after he had fallen he could not survive. And I took the crown that was on his head and the band on his arm and have brought them here to my lord.”

11 Then David and all the men with him took hold of their clothes and tore them. 

12 They mourned and wept and fasted till evening for Saul and his son Jonathan, and for the army of the Lord and for the nation of Israel, because they had fallen by the sword.

13 David said to the young man who brought him the report, “Where are you from?”

“I am the son of a foreigner, an Amalekite,” he answered.

14 David asked him, “Why weren’t you afraid to lift your hand to destroy the Lord’s anointed?”

15 Then David called one of his men and said, “Go, strike him down!” So he struck him down, and he died. 

16 For David had said to him, “Your blood be on your own head. Your own mouth testified against you when you said, ‘I killed the Lord’s anointed.’”

David’s Lament for Saul and Jonathan

17 David took up this lament concerning Saul and his son Jonathan, 

18 and he ordered that the people of Judah be taught this lament of the bow (it is written in the Book of Jashar):

19 “A gazelle lies slain on your heights, Israel.     How the mighty have fallen!

20 “Tell it not in Gath,     proclaim it not in the streets of Ashkelon, lest the daughters of the Philistines be glad,     lest the daughters of the uncircumcised rejoice.

21 “Mountains of Gilboa,     may you have neither dew nor rain,     may no showers fall on your terraced fields. For there the shield of the mighty was despised,     the shield of Saul—no longer rubbed with oil.

22 “From the blood of the slain,     from the flesh of the mighty, the bow of Jonathan did not turn back,     the sword of Saul did not return unsatisfied.

23 Saul and Jonathan—     in life they were loved and admired,     and in death they were not parted. They were swifter than eagles,     they were stronger than lions.

24 “Daughters of Israel,     weep for Saul, who clothed you in scarlet and finery,     who adorned your garments with ornaments of gold.

25 “How the mighty have fallen in battle!     Jonathan lies slain on your heights.

26 I grieve for you, Jonathan my brother;     you were very dear to me. Your love for me was wonderful,     more wonderful than that of women.

27 “How the mighty have fallen!     The weapons of war have perished!”

[casbooks]

Books of 2023

Book 5 of 2023

Title: Killer Kane Authors: Andrew R. Finlayson ISBN: 9780786477012 Tags: 1968 Washington D.C Riots, Averell Harriman, Bess Clements Abell, Camp David, Catoctin Mountains MD, CH-34 Choctaw, CH-46 Sea Knight, CIA, CIDG, From LAPL, General Herman Nickerson, General Samuel B. Griffith, General William Westmoreland, Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, John F. Kennedy, Lady Bird Johnson, Martin Luther King Jr, Maryland, North Korea, Okinawa, Okinawa - Northern Training Area (NTA), Robert McNamara, Soviet FROG-3 Missile, SpecOps, US Capitol Building, USA 3rd Infantry Regiment, USAF Kadena Airbase, USAID John Paul Vann, USMC, USMC 12th Marines, USMC 1st Force Recon Co, USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Brisbane (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Circumstance (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Club Car (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Countersign (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Killer Kane (Vietnam War), USMC 1st Force Recon Co - Team Swift Scout (Vietnam War), USMC 1st MarDiv, USMC 1st Marine Air Wing, USMC 1st Marines, USMC 1st Marines - 1/1, USMC 1st Marines - 1/1 - F Co, USMC 1st Marines - 2/1, USMC 1st Marines - 2/1 - E Co, USMC 1st Recon Bn, USMC 1st Recon Bn - E Co, USMC 1st Tank Bn, USMC 26th Marines, USMC 26th Marines - 1/26, USMC 26th Marines - 1/26 - F Co, USMC 3rd Marines, USMC 3rd Marines - 2/3, USMC 5th Marines, USMC 5th Marines - 2/5, USMC 5th Marines - 2/5 - F Co, USMC 7th Marines, USMC 7th Marines - 1/7, USMC 7th Marines - 2/7, USMC 7th Marines - 2/7 - G Co, USMC 9th Marine Amphibious Brigade, USMC Air Observers - Black Coats (Vietnam War), USMC Camp Hansen, USMC Camp Pendleton, USMC Camp Schwab, USMC Force Recon, USMC Marine Barracks Washington (8th and I), USMC Scout Dogs, USMC The Basic School, USMC Washington Barracks Guard Co., USN USS Pueblo (AGER 2), USNA, VNM 1968 Tet Offensive (1968) (Vietnam War), VNM A Shau Valley, VNM A Vuong River, VNM An Bang, VNM An Hoa, VNM An Long, VNM An Son, VNM Antenna Valley, VNM Ap Ba, VNM Arizona Territory, VNM Ba Na Mountain, VNM Base Area 112, VNM Battle of Hue City (1968) (Tet Offensive) (Vietnam War), VNM Battle of Khe Sanh (1968) (Tet Offensive) (Vietnam War), VNM Camp Hansen, VNM Camp Reasoner, VNM Charlie Med, VNM CIA Phung Hoang / Phoenix Program (1965-1972) (Vietnam War), VNM Col de Ba Lien, VNM Command and Control North/FOB-1 (Vietnam War), VNM Da Nang, VNM Da Son, VNM Dam Cao Hai Bay, VNM Dong Nhut Mountain, VNM DRV NVA 2nd Division, VNM DRV NVA 320th Reconnaissance Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 368th Artillery (Rocket) Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 3rd Regiment, VNM DRV NVA 402nd Sapper Battalion, VNM Elephant Valley, VNM Freedom Hill PX, VNM Happy Valley, VNM Hiep Duc, VNM Hill 170, VNM Hill 199, VNM Hill 203, VNM Hill 224, VNM Hill 324, VNM Hill 327, VNM Hill 35, VNM Hill 372, VNM Hill 381, VNM Hill 387, VNM Hill 406, VNM Hill 417, VNM Hill 441, VNM Hill 452, VNM Hill 454, VNM Hill 478, VNM Hill 498, VNM Hill 502, VNM Hill 537, VNM Hill 575 (Tam Dieo Mountain), VNM Hill 582 (Kon Chay Mountain), VNM Hill 592, VNM Hill 594, VNM Hill 623, VNM Hill 678, VNM Hill 749, VNM Hill 800, VNM Hill 89, VNM Ho Chi Minh Trail, VNM Hoi An Thuong, VNM Hon Cau Mountain, VNM Hue, VNM Khe Dienne River, VNM Khe Gio tributary, VNM Khuong Dai, VNM Loc Tu, VNM LZ Finch, VNM MEDCAP, VNM Mortar Valley, VNM Nam O Bridge, VNM Ninh Dinh, VNM Ninh Khanh, VNM Ninh Long, VNM Nong Son Coal Mine, VNM Nui Ba Hoa, VNM Nui Chom, VNM Nui Nhu, VNM Nui Son Ga (Charlie Ridge), VNM Ong Thu Slope, VNM Operation Arizona (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Calhoun (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Claxon (1968) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Knox (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Pecos (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Snoopy (People Sniffer) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Union I (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Union II (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Operation Wheeler (1967) (Vietnam War), VNM Phouc Ly, VNM Phouc Tuong, VNM Phouc Tuong (Dogpatch), VNM Phu Bai, VNM Phu Gia Pass, VNM Phu Loc, VNM Quang Duc Duc, VNM Quang Nam Province, VNM Quang Tri Province, VNM Que Son Mountains, VNM Que Son Valley, VNM Route 1, VNM Route 545, VNM RVN RVNP CSDB PRU Provincial Reconnaissance Units (Vietnam War), VNM Saigon, VNM Song Cu De, VNM Song Ly Ly, VNM Song Thu Bon, VNM Song Tinh Yen, VNM Song Vu Gia, VNM Song Yang, VNM Tam Kho, VNM Tam Talou Tributary, VNM Thach Bich, VNM The Enchanted Forest, VNM The Garden of Eden, VNM Thua Thien Province, VNM Thuan Long, VNM Thuong Duc, VNM Ti Tau Mountain, VNM Trang Bang, VNM Trao Hamlet, VNM Tu Phu, VNM US MACVSOG (1964-1972) (Vietnam War), VNM US MACVSOG Road Runner Teams (Vietnam War), VNM USMC AHCB An Hoa Combat Base (Vietnam War), VNM USMC Combined Action Platoon, VNM USMC KSCB Khe Sanh Combat Base (Vietnam War), VNM Vietnam, VNM Vietnam War (1955-1975), VNM Yellow Brick Road, Washington D.C Rating: 5 stars Subject: Books.Military.20th-21st Century.Asia.Vietnam War.Specops.Marine Recon

Description: 

  The leader of one of the most successful U. S. Marine long range reconnaissance teams during the Vietnam War, Andrew Finlayson recounts his team's experiences in the year leading up to the Tet Offensive of 1968. Using primary sources, such as Marine Corps unit histories and his own weekly letters home, he presents a highly personal account of the dangerous missions conducted by this team of young Marines as they searched for North Vietnamese Army and Viet Cong units in such dangerous locales as Elephant Valley, the Enchanted Forest, Charlie Ridge, Happy Valley and the Que Son Mountains.   In numerous close contacts with the enemy, the team (code-name Killer Kane) fights for its survival against desperate odds, narrowly escaping death time and again. The book gives vivid descriptions of the life of recon Marines when they are not on patrol, the beauty of the landscape they traverse, and several of the author's Vietnamese friends. It also explains in detail the preparations for, and the conduct of, a successful long range reconnaissance patrol.

Review: 

Finlayson has a very particular point of view on the war, and warfare. Throughout the book, he is constantly made aware that his actions and behaviors are both dangerous and obsessive. Yet, even though he acknowledges it, and says he takes it to heart, he still has the narcissistic bent to ignore them and feel that his way is the right way. 

That’s both a positive and a negative.

His teams brought the war to the enemy and were immensely productive as far as kills and intelligence gathered. At the same time, they were in many ways reckless and dangerous. 

God loves a fool and who dares wins are basically how he operates.

Overall though, the book gives you great insight into HIS way of running recon teams, and how Team Killer Kane/Swift Scout operated, the gear they took, the places they operated in, and who the people were. His writing style is quick paced and gives you a good sense of his thoughts and emotions and allows you to understand where his head was at and what he experienced.

While there were a few errors, especially in regards to keeping track of a persons rank (one page they’re corporal, next they’re a sergeant), and the weapons (carrying my m-14, and had 5 magazines of 5.56mm), the book is well done. 

[carladuquette]

The ties were black, the lies were white: Taylor Swift/Elite series.

Ch. 1: Carla/Samuel 🎵 Speak Now

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"Carla." When she didn't react right away, Lu pulled away her hand and pinched her arm hard enough to hurt. "Carla! This is your last chance! If you don't do something now-"

It was a physical reflex. That was the only possible explanation, because Carla certainly didn't want to get up, but there she was, on her feet, hands shaking.

"Uhm." She cleared her throat. The effect would have been comical had she not been this terrified: Every last person in the church turned to look at her. And they clearly weren't happy. Carla took a deep breath and focused on Samuel, who hadn't moved a single muscle and was staring at her slack-jawed.

"I… I don't usually do this sort of thing-" Here she could see Rebeka laugh, the only one in the bridesmaids line-up who didn't look horrified. "But I wanted…" What exactly was it that she wanted? What was the plan here? Carla was ready to just sit down again (or, even better, have the ground open up and swallow her whole), when she felt Lu squeeze her hand. Fuck it.

[stateofsport211]

Como Ch R1: Kei Nishikori [PR] def. Samuel Vincent Ruggeri 6-2, 6-1 Match Stats

📸 ATP official website

It was a total masterclass from K. Nishikori, who controlled the match since its start from the baseline. Through his effective strikes, the Japanese left Samuel little to no room to attack, which made the latter's final shots more prone to error as the match went deeper. As a result, K. Nishikori converted 4 out of his 9 break points, while Samuel's 2 break points came due to K. Nishikori's errors, but being clutch on serve resulted in Samuel not being able to convert his chances.

Furthermore, K. Nishikori's dominance was also shown in his service games. Even though he scored just an ace, the Japanese had an outstanding first serve winning percentage at 79%, which helped him navigating some troubles at times. However, Samuel's 5 double faults faded his second serve winning percentage to 40%, 26% below K. Nishikori, making it even more vulnerable to the latter's aggression.

In the second round, K. Nishikori will face the winner between first seed Jozef Kovalik and qualifier Nikoloz Basilashvili, which is still ongoing as this was written. While this could be a blockbuster either way, game-wise, a job has to be done to smoothen the comeback, maintaining their range and offensives to ensure the completion of the said job. It could be tough, but it has to be done!

[stardustbarbarians]

Too Pretty For War

Chapter 2 (ch. 1 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9)

A Samuel Kiszka / fem!reader fic

Summary: The only way for Prince Sam to end a war is by marrying the enemy.

Tags: Prince!Sam, war, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

A/N: I bet you weren't expecting this, were ya. I am overwhelmed by the response this is getting! Truly I can't thank you guys enough <3 Your admiration keeps me going! It's finals right now so I imagine this will be updated a lot as I tend to use fics as my outlet for stress, however I can't make any promises. As always, this series is dedicated to @safety-sam. Without any further ado, enjoy! <3

Words: 2.6 k

+++

Nightfall had befallen Athens. The world was sheathed in a dark shroud save for the few specks of starlight fighting the dark. The fire of torches also joined in the star’s rebellion, their soft glow casting dim light in the prince’s room. As the flames danced along to the song of the ocean breeze, they projected shadows that moved along to the beat of the tune. It was a calming scene to behold. It would’ve been, had it not been for the worried royal injecting the air with his anxiety. 

“All you are achieving is creating a trench in your floor.” The prince snapped his gaze over to his advisor, noting how he seemed unaware of the crushing weight Sam felt. 

“Forgive me, Daniel. But the entire fate of thousands of men’s lives rests upon my ability to secure a marriage with this woman! So, pardon me if I seem a little tense!” Sam snapped, only halting his pacing to look the scholar in the eyes. He continued again right after he finished his outburst, feeling as if he could scratch all of his skin off. 

Daniel remained quiet. There was no arguing with Sam on that; he held the fate of his country on his shoulders and that was not an easy weight to bear. 

“I feel like a gift pony,” Samuel lamented, his hands pulling at his silken toga as well as tanging his fingers in his intricately dressed hair. He gazed longingly at the ocean, hearing her call him to her waters.

“Well, you are one, in a way,” Daniel asserted, taking in how his best friend looked. He wore his finest sandals, the straps crossing across his toned calves and stopping below his knee. His mulberry toga kept him modest above the knee, the silk draping from his right shoulder while his left was fitted with an intricate gold piece of shoulder armor that was very clearly decorative rather than practical on his left that coiled down his bicep. His hair, before Sam had ruined it, had been pulled up into an intricate and entrancing coil of skill, but now half of it was hanging down onto the back of his neck. 

“Thank you, Daniel.” If looks could kill, Samuel’s best friend would’ve dropped dead then and there. 

Chuckling to himself, Daniel stood up from his seat and gently guided the prince to take his place. Sam did so without protest, collapsing into the chair as the scholar stood behind him. 

“Let’s see if we can salvage this,” Daniel muttered, carefully removing the golden wreath adorning his best friend’s head. Samuel winced as a few strands of hair were pulled by the crown, but he didn’t get angry. 

“This is doomed. I was not made for this. I will cause Athens’ demise,” the prince groaned, feeling as if he could cry. He was sitting forward resting his elbows on his knees before the scholar placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him so that he was sitting upright. 

“Please, calm your worries. I will be right beside you the whole time,” his best friend soothed, his fingers running through Sam’s hair helping quell some of his anxiety. 

The room went silent once again as Samuel got lost in his thoughts, the gentle brush of Daniel’s fingers calming him by each passing second. This wasn’t supposed to be his job. Samuel was supposed to take on a small area to govern and otherwise just stand there and look pretty. 

“Alright. It is by no means what Ronnie’s maid was able to achieve, but I believe it’s passable,” the scholar declared, a note of pride in his voice as he admired his handiwork. Hearing it brought a tiny smile to the prince’s lips. 

Samuel’s crown was placed back onto his head, the leaves gouging into his skin. There was a moment where it felt as if the scholar was drinking in the prince’s appearance, documenting each detail. Samuel wrote it off as him attempting to see anything he could possibly fix that was askew. However, it was hard for him to explain the hitch in his best friend’s breath as Sam looked over his shoulder at him. 

“Are you ready?” 

“No,” the prince instantly admitted, his head bowing. He was by no means ready for what was to come. 

Now standing in front of his best friend, the scholar held out his hand. Sam regarded it before exhaling a deep sigh and placing his hand in Daniel’s. He was pulled up from his chair rather reluctantly, Daniel patting Sam on the shoulder before dropping his hand slowly. 

“Remember, I’ll be right by your side. You have nothing to fear,” Daniel reassured, opening the door for his prince. 

Staring at the gaping hole of the open door, Sam steeled himself and transformed into the royal he was required to be. Setting his shoulders back, he strode out of the safety of his bedroom and into the uncertainty of the future. 

+++

Just as had been discussed, Samuel was to meet his family in the throne room. The Spartan princess had arrived the night prior but wouldn’t be properly introduced to the prince until the next night. Walking into that symbolic room, he found comfort in the gaze of his mother. She was clothed in black, still mourning the loss of her second son weeks after she had learned of his demise. 

Just as promised, Daniel stuck to his best friend’s side as he made towards the front of the room. He stood front and center, on display for their guests. Daniel was off to the side but would be directly next to the prince within a moment should he need it. 

“You’re a brave boy, swan,” Samuel’s mother whispered to him after wrapping her arms around him. Swan. He hadn’t heard that nickname in some time. 

Before he knew it, horns blared as the arrival of the princess and her court was announced. The sound made the prince freeze up. It was too soon. He was snapped out of his panic by a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t have to look to know it was Daniel’s. 

The door burst open. Samuel’s gaze fell upon the visage of a beautiful, strong woman clad in bronze armor. He was at first taken aback by the sight of a woman in armor, but he then recalled that all Spartans were trained to be warriors regardless of their status or gender. Getting over the initial shock, Sam found himself liking the idea. He knew plenty of women who could fend for themselves and some who could even best him in sparring. 

Sam just wished he knew what she thought of him. 

“Princess, I thank you for making the trip,” Sam’s father greeted, taking her hand in his and placing a kiss on the back. 

“I extend gratitude towards you as well for the invitation,” she responded, her eyes quickly glancing at the prince before flashing a diplomatic smile that Sam could see through. 

“Allow me to introduce my son: Samuel, Prince of Athens.” All attention was shifted onto the young prince. He forced himself not to buckle under their eyes, choosing to smile rather than fidget. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, princess,” he politely greeted, mirroring his father’s action of kissing her hand. He could tell she was not pleased by his touch, her smile straining. 

“I’m sure,” she replied, all but ripping her hand out of his. All of the sudden everything culminated to the surface again. It had only been a few seconds and Sam was already ruining their chance at peace. 

Samuel’s ears began to ring, his heart racing inside his chest. He felt cold, his energy being drained right out of him. The only thing that was keeping him upright was his royal training. He couldn’t show vulnerability he couldn’t show vulnerability he couldn’t show vulnerability-

“Samuel?” 

Ripping him out of his thoughts was the sound of his mother’s voice. He blinked, glancing around the room to see all eyes once again on him. He missed something, but what it was he wasn’t sure. They were expecting something from him. 

“My apologies,” Sam instinctively uttered, his voice sounding weak and catching in his throat. It caused him to clear it, using it as a reprise to compose himself. 

“You were asked if you would wish to take Princess Y/N on a stroll through the grounds,” Daniel whispered into his ear. He had to have noticed the prince’s breakdown, knowing Sam like the back of his hand. 

“Of course. Princess?” He offered his arm, intending for her to loop hers through it. However, she merely glanced down at it before walking past him towards the door. 

Taken off guard once again, Sam quickly glanced at Daniel in confusion before following after her. She was already out of the room, Sam having to pick up his pace in order to follow. 

“Princess, wait!” he called out, finally able to catch up to her after her stride slowed. 

She wore a face that was stern, no readable emotion that Sam could detect. If anything, there was an air of annoyance wafting off her as her lips held the tiniest sneer on them. In the name of diplomacy and peace, Samuel let it go. Perhaps the customs were different in Sparta. 

“You are quite fast,” Sam noted, flashing what he hoped was a charming smile. 

“Or you are just simply slow,” she retorted, refusing to look at him and keep her eyes forward. 

The prince was at an impasse. She clearly wanted nothing to do with him but they needed to make this work in order to achieve peace. Normally, Sam knew when to take the hint and back off, but in this instance he simply couldn’t. 

So, Samuel continued to attempt small talk. Each attempt was met with icy and stunted responses. After so many times, Sam snapped. 

“What is your quarrel, princess?!” he demanded, halting in front of her so that she finally had to look at him. Frustratingly, she looked straight through him and refused to respond. 

She had made moves to walk around him, but he stepped in front of her each time. Finally, that made her look him in the eyes. 

“The whole reason you are here is that we both want peace. The least you could do is try! There are lives that depend on this matrimony; for both of our kingdoms!” His hands balled into fists at his sides. To say he was furious with her behavior was an understatement. 

“You are mistaken, your majesty. You are the one who wishes for peace, not I!” She cried, a fire in her eyes that Sam could only label as hatred. 

The prince stood flabbergasted. Then why was she here?? What was her motive??

“Then pray, tell! What is your business here if you do not wish to end this pointless bloodshed?!” 

At his question, a cruel and bitter smile slithered across her lips. Her eyes darkened, their true nature being exposed in the moon’s light. 

“I can tell why you so desperately wish for peace. A face like yours… it’s far too pretty for war.” 

With that final statement, Sam watched the rival princess disappear into the shadows of his palace. He remained frozen in place, truly taken aback by her words. Sam didn’t know what to do. He was doomed. 

+++

Sam was able to locate Daniel on his favorite balcony, his raven curls floating on the breeze of the ocean. He looked content, staring out at the darkened horizon. He smiled warmly as he turned his gaze onto his best friend approaching him. 

“How did it go?” the scholar asked, his chin resting on his hand as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. Samuel picked out the stars reflecting in Daniel’s dark eyes. 

“The war will continue to rage, I’m afraid,” the prince sighed, ripping his crown from his hair. Some of his strands traveled with the gold leaves, swaying in the wind. 

Daniel moved over to make room for Sam to stand by his side. “Recount what transpired to me.” 

Rubbing his free hand over his face, Sam pinched the bridge of his nose before launching into the events of his stroll with the Spartan princess. He explained how she was nothing but rude and stand-offish towards him despite his efforts. 

“I find that usually people are quite enamored with my charm.” 

Daniel let out a knowing huff of laughter, his head ducking as he smiled. Looking back out at the sea once again, the scholar tucked his curls behind his ear to show off his dangling pearl earring. “You won’t find me denying such a claim.” 

The pair smiled at one another momentarily, silence befalling them companionably. 

“She told me my face was ‘too pretty for war’. I believe she called me a coward,” Sam recounted, his mood turning sour. 

“Pretty, you are. A coward you are not,” Daniel immediately reassured, his gaze sliding to his prince’s face once more. 

The prince remained silent. He didn’t believe his best friend for a moment. There was no way around it, Samuel was a coward. 

“I failed my people before I even had the chance to build confidence in them.” Samuel wasn’t a buffoon. He knew what the peasants thought of him. That’s why they were all so incredibly nervous when Jacob was sent off to the war. 

“None of that, now. The princess has not yet given her answer. There is still time to turn the tides in your favor,” the scholar sagely advised. Samuel often forgot just who his best friend was - a brilliant man. It was easy when this was the man who would help him attempt to tame dangerous beasts and steal for sport. 

Silence fell once again. However, there was a clear tension lacing the air that made it uncomfortable. 

“Sam, hear me,” Daniel began, standing to his full height to look him in the eye, “keep your wits about you when she is near.” 

Samuel absorbed his best friend’s words, turning them over in his mind to pull the meaning out of the statement. 

“You believe her to be a snake?” 

“I believe she has something to hide. I say this only in concern for your safety, but please do not allow my words to sway you away from peace,” the scholar extrapolated, grabbing hold of one of the prince’s hands. 

Sam trusted this man with his life. Anything that made him weary was cause enough for Samuel’s concern. Squeezing his best friend’s hand, he nodded. He would take Daniel’s words to heart. 

“Your majesty,” a servant called, interrupting the moment. Caught by surprise, the men dropped hands. 

“Here,” the prince responded, running a hand over the front of his tunic as a spike of anxiety surged in his body. “State your business.” 

“I send word from the princess. She accepts your proposal,” the servant relayed, keeping his head lowered in the presence of royalty. 

I did not fail.

He couldn’t help it. Sam whipped his head towards Daniel to find that he was looking right back at him. His best friend wore an expression of triumph and pride, his smile mirroring those emotions. However, Samuel could not be fooled. There was a negative emotion buried deep beneath the positive, but he couldn’t place what it was. 

“Alert the king. Request that preparations will begin at sunrise,” the prince ordered, sending away the servant. He bowed before running off to fulfill his task. 

Samuel fell against the railing of the balcony, relief crashing into him like a titanic wave. He hadn’t failed after all. 

+++

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[princesscolumbia]

Code of Ethics - Ch. 10 - The Nose Knows

Wait, whaaaat?! Why am I posting a chapter? 'cause Helen was being an antisocial bitch today and so I sent her to sleep it off.

So the story so far for those coming in only just now:

Prologue - America turns out to be the bad guys in WW3 and The Church turns out to be the man behind the curtain. The Singularity happens and humanity declares war on A.I.

Part 1 - God and Country - Agent Dylan Samuels is the best cyber agent America has, thanks to a custom built VR weapon that he uses to delete 'rogue' A.I. He's tapped for an undercover assignment using a new VR pod to deep dive into a new game. The agency intel says that the rogue A.I. tend to gravitate toward the queer community, so Dylan needs to create a character that will fit in there.

Part 2 - Master and Commander - Dylan goes into VR and creates a nonbinary alien woman character named Diane Somni'els and has an emotional breakdown in the character creator when the euphoria proves overwhelming. She pulls herself together and gets in the game, learning about the mechanics such as the Ethics tree and unlocking its first node by working out an agreement with some squatters on her station.

Oh, yeah! New cover art!

Preview below the cut:

Diane had heard of ‘nice guys’ and “Nice Guys,” but this was the first time she’d met a guy who was so nice he seemed too good for this world.

“Oh…my…gosh! You’re a Morvuck!”

Diane had to struggle to keep from laughing at the enthusiasm, “…I am…”

“I heard the dinosaurs never died out on your world, is that true?” the man’s question might have been somewhat insulting if he weren’t so clearly earnest about asking it.

“Well, they aren’t ‘dinosaurs,’ strictly speaking. They’re dinosaur-like megafauna. Distant cousins to my species, from what I understand,” she took a sip of her Jyantin Tonic…or what the station could synthesize of the stuff, which based on her trial run during the character creation process wasn’t nearly as good as the real thing. It was good enough, though, that she kept drinking even after the slight disappointment. “The megafauna that exist are more like...alligators, I guess. Fully reptilian, no bird or mammalian features whatsoever, though there’s obviously some features in common between them, us humanoids, and the avians. Morvuck birds developed a lot like they did on Earth, megafauna developing feathers and then evolving smaller and smaller until they’re…well, I guess on Mortan they’re a lot bigger than on Earth, probably feed a whole football stadium on one thanksgiving bird.” She smirked as his eyes lit with childlike wonder.

“Do you think,” groused Norma with fond exasperation, “That we could eat at this, our lunch?”

“Oh, right!” Russe snatched up his fork and speared it into the spaghetti on his plate. Like everything else made by the station’s synthesizers, it was good but not great. Diane was dutifully eating all of hers if for no other reason that her body needed the calories and proteins. The day before yesterday she’d nearly collapsed and, upon dragging herself to the med bay in the lower levels of the Ops building, it was determined that she hadn’t been consuming nearly enough calories.

Katrina had read her the riot act, informing her soundly that even if she’d been raised on Earth that didn’t excuse her from taking care of herself. Reading between the lines of the tirade, Diane had figured out that the average Morvuck needed approximately three times the caloric load as the average human and twice the protein. She’d been wondering why she was so hungry when she’d been eating as much as she normally did, but then different bodies (even if virtual) meant different needs.

Katrina then asked when the last time she’d seen a gynecologist was, and when Diane had truthfully answered, “Never,” the digital assistant railed against the state of modern medicine and idiot bureaucrats who didn’t know how to properly care for orphan girls and proceeded to have the medical drones give Diane a full workup for her female anatomy.

Diane had, honestly, felt…odd about it. While some of her discomfiture was due to the act of clinical probing that the med bot had done, the majority of it came from the humiliation she felt, not at being a man and having a woman’s procedure done, but from feeling good about a procedure only being done with actual women being done to her, it being for good reason (her virtual body did have all the proper parts and this world was designed to mimic real-world conditions, including the possibility of certain afflictions that women, specifically, had to worry about), and that someone, even if they were just a training hologram inside a VR game, was taking her feminine appearance at face value enough to treat her like any other woman.

Barely making it back to her quarters in time, she’d had another breakdown like she’d experienced in the character creation process. Just as confused as ever, she found herself questioning everything about herself, her life, and how she got into this position. Had she not committed to herself no fewer than three times now that no matter what she was going to complete the mission she’d been given, she’d have hit the emergency log-out option in that moment.

How are other players not experiencing this?! The thought rang through her repeatedly as she bawled into her pillow, once again having so many positive emotions that she had no way of processing them until they came out in ways that she’d normally have associated with severe distress.

She considered looking it up online. The time compression may have been a factor as it would appear almost static to her, but the Internet was still available. She would, in fact, have even greater access to the Internet than inside the wall (even though she was, technically, still inside it herself) since nothing like the American Firewall was between her and accessing all that data. She could even, she had realized, utilize the FTLN, the part of the Internet that existed due to the specialized nodes that were installed in the hardware that was developed in the non-American world.

But what, exactly, would she look up? “I’m feeling so good about being in an alien body that I’m barely able to keep the emotions contained and it’s terrifying me”? She was, unfortunately, at a loss and completely alone. That would then spiral her into an existential depression. She knew those symptoms; she’d had them enough after the death of her mother that she’d needed to see a shrink for it. He’d given her the tools necessary to manage the depression, which was what she was doing now.

One of those tools was to find people, preferably friends, to remind herself that there are others in the world who have interest in her.

While the in-game A.I. weren’t able to be actual friends, any more than an overeager puppy, they would certainly do.

And speaking of overeager puppies, Russe bolted the last bites of his spaghetti and choked it down with a glass of water. Having completed his lunch, however hastily, he took a deep breath, “So is it true that there are dinosaurs in enclosures and you can actually pet them on Mortan?”

“No idea,” she said with a grin, “Never been.” Norma apparently picked up on what Diane was up to because the woman snorted in laughter around a bite of pasta, grabbing her own water to wash the bite down before she choked on it.

“You’ve never been to one of the enclosures?” Russe’s voice almost squeaked in incredulity at the notion of someone having access to ‘dinosaurs’ but not take advantage of it.

She delivered her highest quality smirk across the table, “No, I’ve never been to Mortan. I was raised on Earth.”

Russe’s face turned simultaneously crimson and stricken, and Norma burst out laughing, throwing her head back and clutching her arms around her belly, “Oh, my gosh! Your face! This is why I wanted you to have lunch with us today, I had to see how you’d react to the commander!”

Norma’s appearance had improved quite a bit over the last week. Access (proper access) to the fabrication facility meant she could get clothes that fit properly, including a nice blouse made of a shimmery fabric that shifted colors in a rainbow of pastels and a utilitarian pair of cargo pants. It seemed she couldn’t let go of the habit of wearing something heavy and capable of delivering a kick, as she’d opted for a pair of steel-toed boots. The only part of her old outfit that she’d kept was her old flight suit jacket, and even that had been laundered and mended by the station’s robotic facilities.

Russe’s appearance prior to Diane’s arrival to the station and subsequent unlocking of the facilities for the tenants was something she didn’t know, but he’d shown up to lunch wearing a very casual t-shirt and jeans combo, a clothing style that hadn’t ever really fallen out of everyday fashion since first being introduced to the world by mid-20th century America. Given that this gentleman was a hacker that Norma had initially hired to try and break into Katrina’s systems and hadn’t left even when it was obvious that it would be an impossible task and no payment would be forthcoming told Diane one thing; he was smitten with Norma.

There were other signs, of course. Norma was constantly talking about how Russe would do random tasks around the station for her, bring her items he thought she might want for some project or another she’d mentioned working on, and often standing by her as she worked with the tenants to address the problems of the day.

It was the tiny smile on Norma’s lips while she recited Russe’s antics with exasperated fondness that told Diane that the feelings went both ways.

They were presently in the mess hall, which had been built almost as soon as the station had the capacity to do so. There were simply too many people for the food synthesizers to keep up with now that they were off emergency status. Besides, they had to be ready for the station to have a population of thousands, and the crew and support staff, which a good chunk of the tenants had chosen to become, were going to need their own place to get their grub that wasn’t going to be (hopefully) chock-a-block with visitors to the station.

Diane languidly twirled a forkful of spaghetti, “It’s not my fault you didn’t ask where I came from.”

Russe smiled bashfully and nodded, “Yeah, that’s fair. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Diane was just about to reply when a page came over the P.A. system, “Ops to Commander Somni’els, please report to Ops for an incoming transmission.”

The mentioned commander sighed, “Duty calls,” she said as she shoved an oversized forkful of pasta into her mouth and grabbed her plate and water as she stood.

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