#HOW DARE YOU TREAT PEOPLE THIS WAY HAVE YOU KNOW HONOR HAVE YOU KNOW DECENCY

[mightywhite]

[sithsecrets]

A Matter of Expediency - Part XIV

2.9 k After being married off to Kylo Ren in the name of securing an heir to the First Order’s throne, a princess tries to navigate the ins and outs of married life. As she grows closer to her new husband, the princess also carves out a place for herself in the Order, assuming control over her life when she thought she would have none.

---

Part 14

2.9k words

Mentions: family drama, crying, pregnancy, pregnant!reader, dead loved ones

---

Though it is your intention to deal with your family swiftly, your plans are pushed aside for a time.

In the wake of over twenty executions spanning across numerous planets and entire star systems, there’s much to be done. You spend days poring over work histories and background checks, working diligently to replace lost personnel. There are four positions that need filling on the Board of Charitable Affairs alone, though Hux is at your side to vet candidates. And then of course there’s spying to do, for several Valderan mineral companies are replacing key players in their operations. Canto Bight’s casino owners are kissing major ass, stolen funds need redistributing to various charities, several small insurrections must be crushed…

It’s like you blink and nearly a month’s gone by, days passing in a haze of paperwork, meetings, and formal appearances. You and Kylo are pulled here and there, always busy, always doing something, and the whole ordeal is more exhausting than you ever imagined it could be. Sleep becomes a luxury, and not for the first time do you find yourself marveling at the Chancellor’s ability to go without it. Still, the sacrifice is worth the reward, and you’re happy to see things straightening out amongst the Order’s possessions.

Finally, all is well, and you’re able to relax again. Handling your uncle and his children sits at the forefront of your mind, but you’re smart enough to know that you need rest before launching into yet another confrontation. Still, even after several days of decent sleep, you’re dragging your feet at midday, drowsiness clouding your mind and dulling your senses. More than once do you find the notion of taking a nap irresistible, and you sleep the sleep of the dead each time you lie down.

Miriam notices the change in your behavior immediately, though she says nothing as she helps you fix your hair and set your clothes straight each afternoon. Kylo is more vocal with his concerns, more insistent that you seek medical attention. He corners you one afternoon in your shared quarters, catching you just as you’ve awoken from another one of your naps.

“I fear someone or something has made you ill,” your husband presses, pushing back against your flippant view of the matter. You turn away from your vanity, amused as you take in your husband’s furrowed brow and tense posture.

“Kylo,” you say, voice dripping honey, “I’m just a little tired. I’m not dying.”

Your husband rushes to your side, taking your face in his hands as he becomes more desperate than you’ve ever seen him before. “My love, I am begging you—”

“And I,” you cut gently, turning to kiss the inside of his wrist, “am begging you to not worry about this.”

Kylo’s exasperation heightens, though you don’t let him go on.

“I’m fine, darling” you insist, fussing with the cuff of your husband’s sleeve. “I’ve never been better.”

---

Returning to the palace is almost surreal, everything just as you left it all those months ago. You hadn’t expected anything to change, not really, but the sameness of it all still makes your chest clench in the strangest way. Every rug, every tapestry, every artifact and decoration… each one reminds you of a time that was not long ago, though you can hardly recognize that version of yourself now.

Two Knights of Ren flank you on either side as you glide into the receiving room you know all too well, your only protection on your home planet. Kylo was insistent for a while there, demanded that you be attended by stormtroopers and Reds and a number of other personnel, but you managed to talk him out of it. Ap’lek and Vicrul are more valuable than fifty imperial guards put together, and besides, you are adored here— the chance of you being harmed is slim to none.

Your uncle’s throne still sits on its dais in the center of the room, this fixture too unchanged. You approach it cautiously, mildly afraid to be caught near the thing on principle. It was the cardinal rule of your childhood— do not sit on Uncle’s throne, not under any circumstances. How many tongue lashings had you received for climbing up here as a child? Ten? Twenty? You can’t be sure after all these years.

What you do know, however, is that your uncle’s throne is even more comfortable now than it was in your childhood.

As if on cue, the patriarch of your remaining family comes striding into the room, mid-conversation with one of his attendants. His entire body shudders when he lays eyes on you, no doubt surprised to see you, or anyone else, for that matter, in this room. Arriving unannounced was a key element in your plan, and, if your uncle’s wide-eyed, horrified gaze is anything to go by, it’s already having the desired effect.

You let your uncle splutter stupidly on the floor for a moment, let him go through aborted versions of your name, your old title, and your new one before he finally blurts, “What are you doing here?”

It’s by no means a respectful way to address his Empress, but you’re too pleased with the way he cringes at his own words to care.

Setting your expression carefully, you gesture about the room with one lofty hand. “I’m here for a visit, Uncle. I wanted to check on the state of things here.” Your voice drops, becomes less pleasant. “The state of our people.”

Your uncle looks as if he’s going to vomit. This pleases you.

Mila is the first to come before you, startled like her father was upon seeing your face. She has the decency to kneel though, to show you respect as she waits for her brothers to arrive. And they do after several minutes, the both of them looking ruffled and perturbed as they shuffle into the room.

“You do not kneel before you Empress?” Ap’lek snaps, incensed by the way Sebastian and Tensin make no move to join their father and sister on the floor.

Sebastian, the smart-mouthed little shit that he is, opens his mouth at once, no doubt about to spit something acidic and defiant in Ap’lek’s face. But your uncle stops his son before he can do something stupid, yanking the eldest boy down onto his knees.

“Shut up and kneel down,” the King hisses. “Both of you.”

Sebastian and Tensin need no further prompting after that, though they obviously aren’t happy about being forced to show fealty to you. Mila, however, looks almost afraid, refusing to meet your eyes even as she says, “To what do we owe this honor, Empress?”

You like this change in your cousin’s demeanor, like the way she addresses you with humility and respect. So, you answer her question calmly, though you can feel rage coming to a boil in your chest.

“I am here, Princess, to tell your father that I know what he’s been doing with his people’s money.”

At this, your uncle pales, shifting uncomfortably on his knees. He, too, now will not look you in the eye, an indirect but still very overt admission of his guilt. You can’t believe him, so shameless and yet so cowardly at the same time.

Your uncle drops his head, voice subdued as he speaks. “Empress, I think you’ve misunderstood—”

Something in your snaps then, for how dare he treat your like you’re stupid, like you haven’t been paying attention?

“Oh no, Uncle, it is you who has misunderstood,” you snap, rising from his throne. Venom drips from your every word, Ap’lek and Vicrul your dark, dangerous shadows as you stalk closer and closer to your family. “You misunderstand the purpose of your tax dollars; you misunderstand the needs of your people. They suffer under the financial burden you’ve placed upon them while you snort spice and fuck whores.”

“Do not speak to my father like that!” Sebastian shouts, jumping to his feet in front of you. His eyes are wild, but you are equally as enraged, getting in his face, daring him to so much as touch you.

“Harm me or my child and it will be the last thing you do, you insolent little fuck.”

All eyes land on you, the members of your family stunned into silence by the implications of what you’ve just said. Mila is the only one brave enough to speak, eyeing you from the floor with a look of utter shock slapped across her face. “You’re pregnant?”

Remembering yourself, you take a breath and set your hands on the almost imperceptible swell of your stomach. “Yes, I am pregnant,” you affirm, speaking softly as you think of all your days spent in bed and the way Kylo cried when you told him what you knew. It was the one reason he was so insistent that you come here armed to the teeth.

Your family looks upon you as if you’re a live explosive then, falling all over themselves to widen the distance between all of you. You crowd right back in, however, undeterred and unafraid. “All of you must understand, then, why I came to do this before my condition progresses any farther.”

Tensin decides to be bold. “And what would this be?”

Cutting your eyes away from him, you look squarely at the King. “I’ve come to take your father’s crown.”

The noise that comes out of Sebastian is indignant and angry. Mila gasps, eyes wide and terrified. Tensin turns white as a sheet. And your uncle? All he does is stare up at your stupidly, mouth opening and closing on what appears to be its own accord for several seconds.

“You can’t— You can’t do that,” he stammers, looking from you, to his throne, and back again. “You can’t— Who will rule in my place? You?”

“I have the galaxy, Uncle,” you state, voice even and calm. “I don’t need this planet.”

The King looks at his eldest son and then back at you, a silent question swimming behind his eyes. You refuse to answer it, simply holding out your hand and eyeing the crown that glitters before you.

“Take that ridiculous thing off your head.”

Your uncle hesitates for a moment, a look of utter heartbreak coming across his face as he finally reaches up and out, handing you his crown as instructed. You hold the thing in your hands for a moment, studying the craftsmanship, the fine jewels that glint so beautifully in the light…

And then you throw it at Mila’s feet.

The clang of metal against marble bounces off the walls of the room again and again, the sound almost painfully loud in your ears until Mila’s able to get her hands on her father’s crown— or, rather, her crown. You see tears in her eyes as she studies it, looking at the gold and gilding as if she can’t believe it’s real.

Your uncle is clearly bewildered, shaking his head as he asks, “Why?”

“Because she’s smarter and more capable than both of your sons put together.” You lean down, really get in his face so that he can feel your anger properly. “And to think that you were going to sell her to the highest bidder.”

These words suck all other protests from your uncle’s mouth, and you can see now that this is over.

“You and the Princes will leave this palace immediately,” you declare. “You are not allowed to return for a year.”

Tensin looks distressed. “This is our home!”

You eye him coolly. “Not anymore. I can’t have you poisoning Mila’s reign with your childish partying and idiotic ideas. Now leave me and your Queen alone, all of you.”

Your uncle and his sons stumble out of the room, dazed and humiliated. Mila finally rises to her feet once they’re gone still weakly clutching her crown in one hand. Tears stream down her face. She looks like she’s been punched in the gut.

“Don’t waste it,” you say simply, tossing your head towards the throne in the center of the room. “I can take it from you just as easily as I took it from him.”

“I won’t,” Mila whispers. You believe her.

“Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

And then you’re walking out of the room, your guards trailing behind you without a word.

Mila calls out after a moment, calls you by your title and then by your real name.

You turn to her. “Yes?”

“I—” Your cousin is distraught, eyes darting as she pants for breath. “I’ve been do awful to you. I treated you like dirt, I— You could have let Father sell me to that old man, and I would have been miserable. Why would you give me this instead?”

You stare her down for a moment, considering what to say. “I’m not like you, Mila. I’m not cruel.”

Mila shudders like she’s been slapped, and you turn to leave the room.

---

Ap’lek and Vicrul fly you out into the countryside after the lot of you make your exit from the palace, cruising at a comfortable speed as you take in the rush of scenery bellow you. This part of your planet feels as though it belongs somewhere else entirely, underdeveloped and free from the crowding of urban sprawl.

Your mother’s house, like the palace you just came from, is exactly as you remember it. The landscaping, the front steps, the courtyards— there’s not a blade of grass out of place, and the joy you feel because of this makes you want to weep.

Stepping inside is like stepping back inside, for you haven’t been to this place since you were a girl. Servants and small droids bustle about, putting on the finishing touches for your arrival. You’d asked to have the place opened up a couple of weeks ago, wanted to spend some time here after you finished dethroning your uncle. But now that you know you’re pregnant, you have other plans for this home.

Shooing Ap’lek and Vicrul away, you go exploring, halfway surprised that you still remember your way around. But no, you haven’t forgotten the layout of this house you love so much, these halls and rooms you played in as a baby.

You peek in your old bedroom, delighted to see that no one’s changed the colors on the walls. The same furniture that looked so big in your eyes then only looks average now— small, even. Your little window even faces the same flowers, the same fields, the same sunshine. At once, you decide that your child will know all these things too, just as you did.

Crossing the threshold in your mother’s room feels almost like stepping into a tomb, though the sensation is not one of dread or gloom like you thought it would be. Her bed and furniture are, like everything else in this house, just as they were when she was alive, though the vanity looks strange without her things strewn across it. You can remember your mother sitting there before the mirror, a tube of lipstick in her hand, a bottle of perfume close by. All little children think that their mothers are beautiful, and you were no different back then. Now, though, you realize that your mother really was a gorgeous woman, buxom and bright and so, so pretty. She would have you help her sometimes before she left for a party, would let you pick out her earrings or ask you which scent you liked better that night. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you reach up and unclip your own jewelry, laying the pieces out carefully on the vanity as your first action as this house’s new mistress.

The covers on the bed aren’t the ones your mother slept under, but you still feel like you’re crawling in bed beside her as you lie down. A length of time passes in silence after that, how much you can’t be sure, but you’re brought back to reality when you hear heavy boots in the hallway. Kylo appears in the doorway not one second later, quiet as he pauses to study you for a moment. And then he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and unlacing his boots, he’s lying down beside you. The two of your clasp hands, tangling your feet together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“How did it go?” Kylo asks, though you’re sure he already knows.

“Mila will be coronated this afternoon.”

Kylo nods, unfazed. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you say softly, reaching out to stroke his cheek. Kylo turns to kiss your palm, gentle in the same way he’s been gentle since he found out about the baby.

“This is a very beautiful house,” Kylo declares, leaving the topic of your uncle and his children behind. “Why are we here?”

“This is where I grew up,” you explain, fingers in his hair now. “I was born in this room.”

Kylo almost-smiles. “What a lovely place for a child. I see why your mother chose it for you.”

It’s your turn to nod. “I know. I… I want to be pregnant here. I want to give birth here, like my mother did. The baby needs to feel the sun on his face, needs to breathe real air when he takes his first breath.”

Kylo pulls you closer, kisses the top of your head. “I’ve always thought space was too cold for an infant.”

And just like that, the matter’s settled.

Everything’s settled.

[petersasteria]

168 Hours - Haz Osterfield AU (Prologue)

Pairing: Haz x Reader

Haz Osterfield Masterlist ||  Ultimate Masterlist || 168 Hours Masterlist

DISCLAIMER:  *This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In which your son’s wish comes true and it turns horrible. Now, he has to fix it in 168 hours.

The city is crowded today. It's filled with tourists, families, businessmen and businesswomen, teenagers hanging out with their friends, couples on a lovely date, single people enjoying life, a couple getting married in a church nearby. All kinds of people are in the city.

Y/N is out with her best friend this lovely afternoon. They're shopping for all things for weddings, because she's getting married this week to her fiancé, Thomas Stanley Holland.

Thomas Stanley Holland is such a... man. He's a rich and cocky boy who gets whatever he wants. He'll soon inherit his father's furniture company and he'll be getting married this week. He's marrying Y/N, his long time girlfriend.

Y/N Y/L/N isn't sure what to feel. She doesn't know if it's a good idea to marry her long time boyfriend. They've been together for four years. She just graduated from university with the course of interior design. She loves Tom. No, she loved him. She loved him before, but as time went on, Tom changed. She doesn't even know how she was able to get a rich man like Tom.

Her lifestyle is totally different from his. His weekends consisted of lavish parties, random getaways at small countries, drinking the most exquisite champagne, eating sumptuous food, trying delicacies from foreign countries and sometimes just staying at his palace like house with his family. His best friend, Bradley Simpson, is a frequent visitor of the Holland estate.

She and Tom met at a clothing shop. She didn't know what to buy, because she's torn between two rompers. She loved both of it, but her budget is only for one romper. Tom saw her and offered to buy her the rompers and in return, she'd go out to dinner with him. One date turned into two and two turned into three and before she knew it, he was asking her to be his girlfriend. She loved him and said yes. Their first date as boyfriend and girlfriend was at Italy. She thought it was too much, but he insisted.

But somewhere in the middle something just changed.

"So Y/N, are you ready to get married?!" her best friend, Saoirse, asked, her eyes filled with excitement. Y/N smiled at her and just nodded, not saying another word. Saoirse noticed this, but she didn't want to push it so she continued to ramble, "Let's go to the book shop!"

They immediately enter the nearest book shop and she allowed yourself to get lost along the rows of shelves with books of romance or thrillers. She was walking past the shelf whilst skimming through the spine of the books when she tripped over something. Or someone, rather. The person scrambled up to help her and she looked to see who it was and it was a guy about her age. He was tall with dark blonde hair, striking blue eyes, and a sheepish smile on his face, "I'm so sorry about that. I knew I shouldn't have sat on the floor. It's just that my feet are hurting and I'm so engrossed with the book I'm reading so I-"

"It's okay." she chuckled. "I wasn't watching where I was going. I wasn't hurt anyway."

She didn't believe in love at first sight, but she did now. They shyly smiled at each other and just stood in front of each other.

"So, uh, can I- can I get your number?" the guy asked, scratching the back of his neck as his gaze fell to his shoes.

"I don't even know your name." she smirked. The guy smiled at her, "Harrison Osterfield. And you are?"

"Y/N Y/L/N." she grinned. She reached for her calling card in her bag and gave it to Harrison. "Call me, okay?"

"Okay, princess." Harrison winked as he handed her his calling card too. "So, are you from around here or-"

"Y/N, what are you doing?!" she turned around and saw Saoirse with raised eyebrows. "You're getting married this week and you're flirting with some guy who's," Saoirse looked at Harrison up and down, "no offense, not as near as Tom's status! You're lucky you won't end up with- with...what's your name?"

"Harrison."

"Harrison!" Saoirse exclaimed, looking at Y/N. "He seems great and all, but he's not Tom. This is just a temptation thing, because you're settling down soon and you want a last fling."

"We have to go." Saoirse said as she walked out of the book shop. Y/N looked at Harrison, "I'm so-"

"You didn't tell me that you were engaged." Harrison frowned. He could've sworn he heard his heart breaking into millions of pieces.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but in all honesty, I felt something between us. I swear." Y/N frowned.

"Okay, if you say so." Harrison shrugged it off. "I got to go anyway." He gathered his stuff and grabbed the book he was previously reading. He walked to the counter, paid for the book, and left. Y/N sighed and walked out to see Saoirse standing by the door.

"I still don't understand why you were talking to him." Saoirse rolled her eyes as she and Y/N continue their errands.

-

Y/N and Harrison have been texting for the past six days and today is Y/N's wedding day. She felt so bad for getting close with another man and falling for the said man. But she wasn't happy with Tom anymore.

Haz Congratulations! Today's your wedding. Have fun x Wish I could be there, but I'm not invited lmao and I'm running errands today.

Y/N smiled at the text but immediately frowned when her father entered the dressing room to tell her "it's time to get married". She turned off her phone and puts it in her purse and gave it to her maid of honor.

"I can't believe you're signing up for the rest of your life at 21 years old." Y/N's dad smiled. "You're not a little girl anymore and I trust you, but just know that I'm always here for you, pumpkin. I love you."

"I love you too, dad." Y/N smiled as they left the dressing room.

After the entourage, everyone turned to the big door where Y/N is coming in. The doors opened and Y/N came in with her father. Tom smiled proudly and Bradley excitedly pats Tom's shoulder.

"This is it, man." Bradley whispered.

"Yup. I can't fucking wait. We're going to Santorini after this." Tom whispered, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

Y/N and her father reached the altar. Tom shook hands with Y/N's father and her father told Tom to take care of her. Tom nodded and smiled. Tom and Y/N stood in their places in front of the priest. Y/N's thoughts are elsewhere. Meaning, her thoughts were on Harrison and what he's doing.

"If anyone wants to object, speak now or forever hold your peace."

Y/N nervously looked around and gulped. Tom doesn't look around, because he knew no one would even dare.

Or so he thought.

"I object." Y/N said. Everyone gasped and Tom's jaw dropped. Bradley's eyes widen in shock and pats Tom's back, a subtle way of letting him know that he's there for him.

"Wha- Why?!" Tom asked with confusion written all over his face.

Y/N took a deep breath and looked in Tom's eyes. Those brown eyes she once loved are now replaced with blue eyes owned by the new man she loves.

"You're just having cold feet, love." Tom desperately tried to change Y/N's mind.

"I'm so sorry, Tom." Y/N cried. "I don't love you anymore and I realized that I can't marry you while pretending to love you. It wouldn't be fair to you."

"I also know about what happened in Prague. I know you slept with someone. I just acted like I didn't know, but I can't stay with you and let you think I'm stupid and that I wouldn't know or find out. I also know it wasn't a one time thing and that's when I started not loving you... it hurt a lot, Tom."

Y/N looked at Bradley and said, "You knew about him sleeping with different girls every time he's out of the country and you never had the decency to tell me. I treated you like a friend and you couldn't even do the right thing."

Bradley just looked down in shame.

She turned back to Tom, "I tried everything I could to love you again, but I couldn't anymore. I'm sorry."

With that, she took her purse from her maid of honor and ran away.

Tom just stood there with tears streaming down his face. He felt humiliated and he felt bad for being so insensitive to what Y/N was feeling.

Y/N's father looked at Tom and shook his head.

-

Y/N ran through the city in hopes that she would run into the man she fell in love with. Fate seemed to be on her side, though. As she turned right, she bumped into someone's chest. They held Y/N so she doesn't fall.

"I'm so- Y/N?! What are you doing here?"

She looked up and smiled, "Harrison!"

"Aren't you supposed to get married?" Harrison lightly chuckled.

She shook her head and cupped his face and smiled, "I left him."

"What? Why?"

"I don't love him anymore. I stopped loving him a long time ago." she told him. "I love you, Harrison."

"You love me?" he asked in shock. She just nodded. "But I'm not him. I can't give you everything you want and I can't take you to different places every weekend and-"

"Yes, you're not him. You're not him and that's makes you different and it's better. I want you and I want to stay with you." she said in all honesty.

"I'd love that." Harrison smiled. "Oh, and I love you too."

She grinned and pulled him in for a kiss.

* * * *

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: ???

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐱

[ibtk]

Book Review: Amber and Clay by Laura Amy Schlitz & Julia Iredale (2021)

(Full disclosure: I received a free ARC for review through Edelweiss and Library Thing's Early Reviewers program. Content warning for child abuse, animal abuse, and sexual assault.)

The children I spoke of before were like that. They weren’t alike, but they fit together, like lock and key. The boy, Rhaskos, was a slave boy. Unlucky at first. A Thracian boy—(Thrace is north of Greece) —redheaded, nervy, neglected. A clever boy who was taught he was stupid. A beautiful boy whose mother scarred him with a knife. The girl, Melisto, started life lucky. A rich man’s daughter, and a proper Greek. Owl-eyed Melisto: a born fighter, prone to tantrums, hating the loom. A wild girl, chosen by Artemis, and lucky, as I said before— except for one thing: she died young. This is their story. When it's over, if you like, you can tell me what it means.

"I want to tell you the things I never told anyone, in case this is my last chance. When I was alive, I didn’t talk much. So much of what I felt was a secret. I think that’s what I loved about the bear. Neither of us had any words."

Again we walked and talked. I never talked to anyone like that. No one ever talked like that to me. I talk to you still, Melisto. I’ve been talking to you ever since.

The red-haired boy variously known as Rhaskos, Thrax, and Pyrrhos is many things, though few of his masters care to know. He's Thracian nobility, with the scars to prove it - and also a slave, belonging to the wealthy Alexidemus and his soldier son Menon in Thessaly, and then to a humble potter named Phaistus in Athens. He loves horses and is as adept at handling them as he will one day become at drawing and sculpting them. He is a contemporary and friend of Sokrates, though he is powerless to stop his execution. He is an orphan, with a dolphin for a mother; a mother who loves him so fiercely that she curses a ghost to help set him free. He is like clay: common at first glance, but also not; capable of transmuting into creations lovely, clever, and full of value.

The owl-eyed girl called Melisto is seemingly as lucky as Rhaskos is not: the only child of a wealthy Athenian, Melisto wants for nothing. But she is a wild (read: untamed) girl child in a rigidly gendered society that has already predetermined Melisto's future for her: marriage, motherhood, a life of quiet domesticity. When, at the age of ten, Melisto is chosen to serve the goddess Athena as a Little Bear, her life opens up before her at Brauron; this is who she was meant to be. Like all good things, it cannot last.

Rhaskos and Melisto's destinies collide when Melisto frees a bear cub that is to be sacrificed to Athena. Or maybe their paths met even earlier, when Meda/Thratta was ripped from her toddler son. Perhaps the gods nudged them towards each other from birth. Alternately, the gods have nothing to do with it. Who can say? (Hermes, maybe. He has a lot to say and loves to hear himself talk!)

AMBER AND CLAY is ... not what I expected. Normally I'd steer clear of a contemporary (or any!) book styled after the ancient, epic poems (I positively labored through THE ODYSSEY and THE ILIAD in high school!), but the visual element sucked me in. I was under the (mistaken!) impression that AMBER AND CLAY would be heavier in illustrations than it actually is, almost as though part graphic novel. As it turns out, the illustrations - of archaeological artifacts - are a little sparser than I hoped, but they tie into the narrative quite nicely and add another layer of wonder and surprise to the story. The "exhibits" are really well done and do not disappoint.

Additionally, the synopsis had me thinking that this would be a supernatural romance; and while AMBER AND CLAY is indeed a love story, Rhaskos and Melisto are entirely too young to hook up, even by the time they finally meet near the story's end. (It's hard not to envision them - especially Rhaskos - as older than they are, both because the story seemingly stretching across years, and so much happens to these crazy kids to last several lifetimes.) Instead, this is a different kind of love story: AMBER AND CLAY tells of the love between a mother and her son; a father and his daughter; a teacher and his students; a girl and a bear; a ghost and her tether to the earth.

And despite my reservations about those epic poems, Schlitz both honors the form and breathes new life into it. While Melisto tells her story in prose, Rhaskos speaks in verse; and the gods sometimes address us commoners in turn-counterturn, occasionally using more complicated linguistic techniques like elegian couplets (which I barely recollect from HS English). This all sounds incredibly tricky and complicated (and undoubtedly is), but Schlitz pulls it off without a hitch. AMBER AND CLAY is fun and engaging, with a surprising sense of humor and expert sense of dramatic flair.

“Oh, Phaistus, look at his hair! He’ll be beautiful once he’s healed. We’ll call him Pyrrhos!” As if I were a dog. Pyrrhos means fiery. Half the red-haired slaves in Athens are called Pyrrhos.

It is, dare I say, exceedingly readable.

Honestly, I let out a little groan when I saw the "Cast of Characters" on page one, complete with various households and multiple monikers for the same people; but the story, the characters, their relationships to one another - all are easy enough to follow.

Schlitz's characters, both those based on historical figures and those spun from imagination and whimsy, are so full of life that they practically jump off the page. Rhaskos and Melisto; Meda and Lysandra; Phaistus and Zosima; Menon and Lykos; and, of course, Sokrates. Likewise, her descriptions of Greek life and customs left me hungering to learn more. Naturally, the most fascinating custom - that of the Little Bears of Brauron - is also that which we know the least about.

The scenes featuring Melisto and the bear cub are among my favorite in the book. In a story filled with animal sacrifice, this little slice of compassion and respect is life-affirming; to wit:

It turned in slow circles and collapsed with its rump pressed against her thigh. Melisto put one hand on it. It seemed to her that she had never touched anything more real than the bear cub.

For a moment her mind slipped back into the past. She recalled the bruises she had carried from her mother’s pinches, and the sore patches on her scalp from Lysandra’s hair-pulling. She remembered the loathing in her mother’s face that struck terror into her soul. She had never been afraid of the bear like that.

and

On the nights when she waded into the bay and watched the moon, she was barely conscious of the fact that it was she who saw, and the moon that was being watched. In the same way, she did not measure how much she loved the bear. She was the bear.

Likewise, Rhaskos's interactions with Grau/Phoibe are so wonderfully tender, my heart aches just to think back on them. From the moment he renames her (grau means hag) - a change of name that's much more respectful than those Rhaskos was forced to accept - Rhaskos treats his donkey charge with decency and kindness. The same kindness that he himself longs for.

Animals know when things get better. People might not know, but animals do. That very first day, Grau knew I was going to be good to her and I swear to you, she was glad.

Cue the "what is this salty discharge" gifs.

AMBER AND CLAY is such a beautiful story, and I'm glad I took a chance on it. Iambic pentameter be damned.      

https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/3861642614 

[justallamaimaginingthings]

Nothing Else Matters [Jaime Lannister x Reader]

Request: "Hi! I haven’t followed you for too long, but your writing is just amazing !💞 I read that you were doing some GOT requests, and I have a little idea lmao. Maybe you could do something with Jaime/reader, where the reader is Ramsay Bolton’s half-Sister, not a bastard and after he killed their father, she’s scared for her life, and maybe asks Jaime to protect her?" by anonymous

A/n:Thank you so much dear anon 💕💕 Please enjoy and don’t hesitate to leave a comment! I love every single piece I write, but this one here holds a special place in my heart. 

Words: 4400 (got a little carried away) || GoT Masterlist

The Boltons were a noble House of the North and had even served as bannermen for the Starks and there was nothing about the Bolton legacy you didn't accept or honor. However, you despised the way your father, Lord Bolton ruled. He was cruel and manipulative and didn’t care about either honor or decency. At the same time, he trained his bastard son, Ramsay to become even more vicious than he could ever be in the promise of legitimizing him.

Ramsay had always been distant and cold, but now a new side of him had come to the light and it scared the living hell out of you. This Ramsay was ruthless and sadistic, taking pleasure into watching people suffer through unimaginable torture. This was a monster. And the worst part was that this monster had always been hidden inside him lurking in the shadows and waiting for the right time to appear. Being in Ramsay's presence had always felt uncomfortable but slowly it had gotten increasingly worse to the point where you found yourself being afraid of him.

The relationship you had with Roose was a complicated one and had only gotten tenser when his soldiers had brought Jaime Lannister to Dreadfort as a prisoner. You had only met the Lannister once, back in King's Landing so there was no specific reason for you to defend him apart from the fact that the way they treated him and his companion was at best inhuman.

"He is a prisoner not a guest" Ramsay's voice echoed down the halls

"Most of all, he is a living person and he deserves some dignity" you argued sharply having suffered enough of Ramsay's behavior the last days

"He won't stay with a living for a long time if you push this further" Ramsay hissed through gritted teeth causing you to shoot him a stare so cold that could freeze the seven hells over

"That's enough" your father interrupted the fight "Jaime Lannister is our captive. Royalty or not, we don't have people to spare at him. If my dear daughter wishes so much that we get him a nurse maybe she should do it herself" he added giving you a challenging look. Taking care of the prisoners was a task for the lowest servants, therefore no one believed a noble born lady such as yourself would diminish herself in order to complete it.

"If that is the case" you replied making your exit and slamming the door behind you. Knowing only the basic of medicine you had almost no idea what would help a man whose arm had been cut off. Gathering anything that seemed useful, you headed towards the small room he had been thrown in while countless thoughts were running through your head.

Why was your father supporting Ramsay?

Would he actually give him Dreadfort?

What in Seven Hells would happen then?

Taking a deep breath, you decided to deal with one problem at the time. The current one came in the shape of two soldiers guarding Jaime's room/cell.

"What is your business here?" one of them asked sternly

"By order of Lord Bolton, you have been dismissed. Both of you" you straight up lied knowing they wouldn’t dare question what they believed to be your father's orders. When they had walked away from the corridor, you knocked on the door but you were met with no reply. Deciding that could be your only chance, you ignored all formalities and busted inside the room, where you came across a startling sight.

Jaime was sitting in a dirty cot on the floor struggling to put on a shirt while his old one was thrown away, completely covered in mud and blood. His state was horrible. Every inch of skin was full of cuts and bruises and his once blood hair now seemed much darker due to the amount of dirt covering them. His left arm was wrapped in a thin cloth that had ended up completely soaked in blood, almost certain to cause an infection if left that way.

"I thought not answering the door was a clear sign not to enter" he snapped as you expected him to. He had been hurt and stripped of the one thing he cared about the most, his pride, of course he would be angry.

"I apologize. I came to help and since this may be the only time I'm allowed here I believe it shouldn't be wasted" you explained calmly knowing it would take a fight to convince him you weren't another trick of your father's.

"I don’t need your help" Jaime insisted giving you a death glare.

"We both know that if your hand doesn't get tended to, it will get infected. I can assure you that is the last thing you need right now" you replied not shying away from his threatening look.

"I remember you. Tell me, Y/n Bolton, why would Lord Bolton send his daughter to complete the task of a servant?" he shot back defensively. Pushing away the surprise that statement caused, you chose to keep a neutral expression.

"Because she volunteered. You may not want to admit it, but you need help. There's no way you can fight your way out of this. So, shut up and let me help you before you end up dead" you replied locking eyes with him. If you wanted to be honest, you’d admit you didn’t even know why you cared so much about him. Giving up, Jaime sat back down on the cot and allowed you to kneel next to him "This is going to hurt" you warned carefully before unwrapping the cloth from around his mutilated hand.

"Do what you will, I don’t care" he said, looking anywhere but at you. In truth, Jaime was embarrassed by the situation you had found him in. The Lannister valued pride above anything and if there was one thing he despised the most, that was feeling weak and helpless. Having you, or anyone for that matter, seeing him in this state only served to make it more real which hurt him even more.

Carefully, you picked up a new cloth and cleaned as much blood as you could before dripping it in boiled wine. Attempting to make your moves as gentle as possible in order not to inflict any more pain, you disinfected the wound the best you could while muffled groans of pain escaped Jaime's lips. By the time you were done his breath was coming out in erratic gasps and his eyes were closed in pain.

Tying a clean cloth around his hand, Jaime was surprised by the gentleness of your actions. Your almost feather-like touch was a pleasant sensation on the scarred skin of his forearm and he sighted at the contact.

"The worst is over" you reassured, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder causing him to flinch away as if your touch had burned him. Being quick to withdraw your hand, you took a step back in an attempt to give him some space "Try to get some sleep. I'll come back tomorrow" you said upon noticing just how exhausted the Lannister looked. There was much work to be done and yet for now he needed to rest or you were afraid he would pass out.

"Don't" he responded, but the door had already slammed shut behind you. That night Jaime was actually able to sleep due to the pain in his hand having significantly lessened.

Despite his protests, you did as you said and returned the next day and the day after that. Every time you'd tend to his hand or any other wounds on his face and chest and simply leave without asking for anything. When you noticed he wasn't eating you’d bring him loaves of bread and fresh water from the kitchens and insisted that he ate.

Slowly, Jaime had started warming up to you, realizing you were truly trying to help and were not there to trick him or extract information. As days came by, he started picking up small conversations during your visits as he'd try to find out more about you. Slowly a bond formed between the two of you as he came to know you and despite the circumstances Jaime found himself actually liking having you around. As time went by he'd ask for your help, reluctantly at first, but growing more and more comfortable with your presence later on.

Hearing the door creak, Jaime smiled as he watched you walk into the room.

"How's my lion doing?" you asked playfully. The nickname had started out as a joke but ended up sticking around and Jaime couldn’t deny that hearing it come from your lips send a wave of pride down his spine. Maybe not only pride… he thought, but quickly brushed it off.

"Same as yesterday. Are there any news of the Capitol?" he asked hopefully and the only thing you could do was nod in denial. Every day, he'd ask the same question, hoping his House would communicate with the Boltons, setting the terms of his release and every day he was met with the same answer.

"I can send a raven to them" you suggested surprising the both of you. What you were talking about was treason to your house and you knew it. But were you really loyal to a house that tortured and killed prisoners? A house that turned their back to the North by refusing Robb Stark's call? A house ran by madmen? The answer was clear, house Bolton meant nothing to you anymore.

"They'd kill us both if they caught you" Jaime argued. Somewhere between the continuous bickering and your incredible persistence, the man had come to truly care about you. The kind and decisive nature of your character had motivated him to open up to you causing the strange unexpected bond that existed between the two of you to bloom.

"They would never know" you replied but the look on Jaime's face made sure he wouldn't accept your offer.

"There is something you could do" he started somewhat hesitantly as he always did when he was asking something. This time however, there was something else added to his tone as if he had put thought into it "This is starting to get more than a little annoying" he added motioning towards his newly grown beard. Unwontedly, you allowed a chuckle to escape your lips. Out of all things he could ask for, Jaime chose a shave was the most necessary.

Upon seeing your smile a warm feeling tugged at Jaime's heart. That seemed to happen increasingly when he was around you, he realized as you left only to come back a few minutes later holding a washbowl full of water. Deep down Jaime knew exactly what that weird feeling meant, but refused to admit it in fear of what that could signify. Try as he did, there was no way to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when you delicately placed a hand on his cheek in order to keep him steady.

Jaime claimed to be in love with Cersei for as long as he could remember and still there had been not a single moment he had felt anything similar around his sister. The way his skin felt like it was on fire whenever you touched him was a completely new and all the same welcomed sensation.

While you were working on getting rid of Jaime's beard, you couldn't help admire his delicate features. Even if there were almost healed cuts all over his face, the Lannister was undoubtedly handsome, with his sharp jawline and his capturing emerald green eyes. Snapping out of your thoughts, you realized said eyes were staring at you with an almost unprecedented intensity, giving you the impression he was seeing right through you.

Allowing yourself to get lost in his fervent gaze, you inched closer to him in an agonizingly slow pace until the distance between you was practically nonexistent. Time seemed to freeze as his eyes lowered down to your lips causing your breath to get caught in your throat. The hand that was resting on his cheek slowly traced down to his jaw provoking a shiver to run down Jaime's spine. Glancing back up at you, he searched your eyes for any sign of hesitation but found none. His lips parted as an almost inaudible sight escaped him, right before he moved to close the microscopic distance that was left between your lips and his.

The sound of a door slamming open ruined the moment causing the both of you to jump back. Looking behind your shoulder you were met with a familiar cruel smirk.

"Seems like there was a reason to care about the prisoner after all" Ramsey exclaimed loudly followed by a humorless laugh that caused the blood to freeze in your veins "A Lannister's whore? That's low even for you, dear sister" he added. Jaime was about to say something but you shot him a pleading look that prevented him from voicing any of the thoughts running through his head. "Was she any good? Oh, I'm sure she must have been" he added turning to Jaime who was positively furious at this point, hoping he still had his sword hand so that he could give Ramsay what he deserved.

"What do you want, Ramsay?" you asked firmly trying to refrain from lashing out at him

"Father sent me. Seems like I must take away your toy. Tywin Lannister paid for his release" Ramsay explained "Escort the prisoner to the stables and send him off" he barked at the guards who rushed to do as he said. They grabbed Jaime who only had the chance to give you one last desperate look, before they led him down the dark corridors. Ramsay's laugh could be heard echoing into the room as he slammed the door leaving you alone in the room.

That was the last time you saw Jaime for a long while. Knowing he was finally able to escape your insane family and that he was finally safe was relieving and you tried to convince yourself that was the end of the story. However, no amount of stubbornness could erase the feeling of longing that grew in your chest every time your thoughts wondered to the blond Knight. The moment you two had shared haunted you even in the form of dreams until he was dominating all of your thoughts.

No matter how strong those concerns were, there was a much more important situation you had to deal with firstly. Ramsay had gotten increasingly more violent as his outbursts had begun getting extremely often. When you found out what he had done to poor Theon Greyjoy you were more that terrified and after your father legitimized him, Ramsay had completely lost it. Witnessing spiraling out of control was almost driving you crazy with fear for what would follow.

Once, you attempted to talk to your father about it but somehow Ramsay found out and you ended up locked in a cell for days with almost no food or water, while guards and even Ramsay himself beat you repeatedly. At some point, one of the guards tried to take advantage of you in a different way which infuriated Ramsay, who ordered his hounds to kill the man right in front of your eyes.

"This is the fate of those who disobey me. Watch and learn sister" he had hissed at you without a single hint of emotion in his tone.

When he finally allowed you to leave the cell, you were petrified to discover he had murdered Roose taking on the title of Lord Bolton. By that time you were certain what your fate would be had you stayed in Dreadfort any longer. So, gathering all your strength you wrapped a dark cloak around yourself and disappeared into the night leaving the place that had once been your home behind.

At the same time, word of Ramsay's unimaginable monstrosities had reached King's Landing making Jaime's worry hit the ceiling. He knew he had been lucky to have escaped the Boltons, but there was no way he could shake the feeling of guilt for not being able to take you with him and it was eating away at him. Almost every waking hour of his days was plagued with thoughts of you, just as his dreams were haunted by your presence.

Nothing had been the same since his return in the Capitol for the simple reason that he was not the same man that had left in the first place. Days had turned into weeks, but he had not been able to force your gentle touch and breathtaking smile out of his memory. Needless to say he was unable to see Cersei the same way, which only frustrated the woman making her more bitter and resentful, pushing Jaime further away from her.

Jerking upwards in his bed, Jaime looked around only to be crushed by the reality of his situation. He was alone in the large chamber that suddenly felt unfamiliarly cold and empty, in complete contrast with the warm and affectionate nature of his dream. You were there, of course you would be. And you were his. For a brief moment, Jaime was able to hold and worship you the way he desired to, the way you deserved. The illusion of your soft touch was lingering on his cheek, a bittersweet reminder of the heated moment the two of you had shared.

A knock on the door brought him back to the real world and he wondered who could be searching for him at such an ungodly hour of the night.

"Ser Jaime, I-I apologize for disturbing your sleep" the servant stuttered causing the knight to roll his eyes in annoyance. He was not Cersei, he would not sentence a servant to death because they had annoyed him.

"What do you want?" Jaime asked pointedly

"My Lord there have been news from the North. A raven just arrived and you asked to be briefed about-" the servant tried to explained but was quickly interrupted by Jaime

"I know what I asked. Where is the letter?" the annoyance in his tone had been replaced by something much more deep and sincere that almost resembled fear. Jaime dismissed the servant after being handed the letter and took a few calming breaths before lighting some candles and reading the content.

To say he was shocked at what he found out would be a terrible understatement as he was overcome by a sense of pure dread and blind terror. Roose Bolton being dead and Ramsay having been legitimized were bad enough on their own, but what really got to Jaime was yet to come. All it took was a couple of words to make Jaime's blood freeze in his veins as the cold hands of fear wrapped tightly around his throat.

Y/n Bolton has disappeared soon after being released from the cells. No word of her has been heard since and therefore is presumed dead.

No, you couldn’t be dead, he refused to believe that. You were too smart to die like this. Not hesitating for a single second, Jaime threw the letter in the fire and gathered the few belongings he would need to reach the North. With absolutely no plan and no sign of where to begin, Jaime rode a horse and left King's Landing behind him. You were somewhere out there and he was determined to find you for he would never forgive himself if he didn't.

Meanwhile, you found yourself in an almost similar situation. Left with no plan and next to no money, the only thing you could do was ride East. The first choice had of course been Winterfell, but seeing that the Starks were fighting their own war in combination of it being too obvious, you opted against it. However, that left you with a single choice, the Capitol. You knew northerners were no welcomed in King's Landing, especially under Cersei's rule, but you had hoped Jaime would manage to grant you passage to a ship heading towards the Free Cities or even allow you to stay for a few days.

The road so far had proven to be nothing but relentless as you had dealt with thieves, bandits and all sorts of criminals in your attempt to stay off the King's Road. Most of them had settled for sending you threatening looks, but some had tried more. Thankfully, despite the hurry you had left in, you had taken your favorite pair of daggers with you, rendering yourself more than capable of defense.

The incident seemed to repeat itself, you realized as a group of four rugged looking men attempted to corner you demanding for you to hand over any food or water you carried and asking if you were interested in keeping them company. Upon refusing to give them anything, swords had been pulled as one of them attempted to grab you by the hair. Ducking, you managed to escape his grip as the fight broke down. Even though you considered yourself to be a skillful fighter, you knew facing four men twice your size would be challenging.

Being able to push your dagger through one's armor, the man fell on the ground as a pool of blood formed around him. At that moment another had managed to sneak behind you and was getting ready to disarm you when a sword was pierced right through him. The other two saw the man in the golden armor standing behind you and ran off in fear of the Knight.

"Are you hurt girl?" a familiar voice asked gently causing your whole body to freeze. Trying to comprehend whether that was another one of your dreams, you turned around only to be faced with the man that had been haunting your thoughts.

"J-Jaime?" there was no use in trying to hide the quivering of your voice as your eyes finally met his. There were no words to express the depth and number of feelings that flooded your senses. For a moment neither of you spoke a word, too scared that even the smallest movement would break the spell and you'd be woken from your reverie as you had so many times before. And then it all came crashing down like a wave collapsing into the shore it had so desperately longed for during the storm.

There was no way to know who moved first, but somehow you found yourselves in each other's arms holding on like it was the only thing that kept you alive. Jaime grabbed a fistful of your dark cloak in a frantic attempt to make sure you were real. Burying his face in the crook of your neck he breathed you in trying to get a hold of the various emotions running through his mind. This is real, he told himself incapable to believe he had you in his arms once again.

Your hands were wrapped around his shoulders as you snuggled into his chest seeking to feel his body against yours and to hear his heartbeat. You didn't care how or why but he was there and that was all that mattered. Moving your hands to run through his hair, you felt your eyes well up with unshed tears tugging him even closer as your breath came out in short gasps through your trembling lips.

Upon feeling your whole body shaking in an almost violent way Jaime pulled away just enough so that he could look into your eyes only to be taken by surprise by the intensity of the unspoken feelings hiding there. Framing your face with his shaking hand he hesitated for a single moment before finally giving in and crashing his lips on yours. It was rough and possessive as you both expressed the feelings that had been drowning to be let out all this time. Longing, hopelessness and passion all mixed together as you pulled him closer by tugging on his hair. He moaned against your lips, a needy and desperate sound that made your body shiver and your heart to ache for him even more than it already was.

Breaking away, Jaime rested his forehead against yours as he used his thumb to delicately brush away the tears you hadn’t realized had escaped your eyes as you couldn't help noticing the contrast between his soft touch and the roughness of the kiss.

"I've got you. Look at me. Y/n, I've got you" he hushed you, leaving gentle kisses against your lips after every word as his grip on your waist got even tighter.

"I love you" you whispered in between tears causing Jaime to pull you into another embrace as he allowed you to calm down while he was leaving kisses all over your face, hand tangled in your hair "But you have to leave" you begged hoarsely "He's out to get me and he won't hesitate to kill you too"

"I don’t care. We're the only ones who matter, you and me. We'll figure it out" he insisted his eyes burning through you "Nothing else matters. Okay?"

Nodding in response you gave him a hesitant smile as he pulled you back into his arms. Jaime had just gotten you back and he was not going to let you go ever again. No matter what came your way, Jaime was determined to keep you safe as the thought of having to spend another day without you seemed torturous. He had finally found out what love felt and he would never give that up. Having everything he needed to be happy right there in his arms, Jaime felt complete for the first time in his life.

And nothing else mattered…

Jaime Lannister Taglist: @cyaa-niide

[inkstaineddove]

The Birth of a Nation

Characters: Prussia, Austria, Germany; mentioned Britain, America, France and Russia

Summary: For too long, the affairs of the German nation have been decided by Gilbert and his nobles. With the Great War ending in spectacular failure for them, Ludwig would have hoped this would mean he'd be allowed a seat at the table. Instead, it seems he must create his own.

  Berlin, 1918  

"This is insulting. After we were so kind to France in 1814, allowing him input and treating him with fucking decency. What do I get for that? A slap in the face." Prussia spat on his dining room floor. He leered across the room at Austria. "This is the last time I follow you into a war. Fight your own battles from now on."

Austria was polishing his glasses. "Shut up, you're acting like you're the only one who lost anything. How can I be a power without an empire? They neutered me worse than they did you. How dare they, I was always the diplomatic German! I played the game and now I lose all my territory? It's a disgrace." He huffed. "You didn't follow me into anything! If it wasn't for your stupid little prince getting into pissing contests with Britain and pushing us away from our measured response, maybe things would have ended differently!"

Germany watched them. He felt like a stranger in his own home. He'd felt that way for a long time, since the war began. Prussia and his king and his generals had dictated the whole thing. Conspiring with Austria and Italy, before the brothers switched sides, drawing up battle plans without his input. Relegated to the kids table. How was he supposed to take care of the country - the country that bore his name, who's men fought in his honor - while he was kept out of every major decision? Gilbert promised that one day, everything would be in his control, that Gilbert would sit back and let him handle everything like Brandenburg had done for him. Why hadn't that happened yet? What was Gilbert clinging so tightly to?

"America seemed sympathetic to us. He's not much older than me, right? He wouldn't want to hurt me before I even had a chance. Maybe we can talk to him and he can look out-"

"That brat can't do shit! He joined in so late. Britain and France didn't listen to him during negotiations, why would they do it now? A few months isn't going to change a goddamn thing." Prussia glared out the window.

Austria gave the young nation a sympathetic glance. "Don't be so harsh, he doesn't know these things. It's a good suggestion from an ignorant position."

Ludwig bit his tongue. He knew he'd be allowed to lash out, but not recklessly. "Shouldn't you be back home in Vienna?"

"I'm allowing everyone time to gather their things and move out unimpeded. Gilbert was considerate enough to let me stay till then. I hope that doesn't offend the young master." The Austrian sniffed, knowing that if he had raised the boy he'd have much better manners. He rose. "We need a plan for dealing with this. Call in favors where we have them. Rally what remaining government we have left."

"Who am I supposed to turn to? My king's - I mean, our kaiser's out and people are trying to make some sort of democracy out of the ashes of the monarchy. The only stability I have is the generals." Prussia paused then groaned. "And a general staff is now illegal here so this all has to fly under their radar." He started leading Austria to the office. Another set of footsteps followed them. "Lud, where are you going?"

"If you tell me what to write, I can write it. My penmanship is excellent and I'm much better at spelling than you. This is my country too, let me help."

Prussia waved him aside. "When I figure out what the hell to write and who to write it to, then you've got a job. For now, the adults have to strategize. Go read or something."

The office door closed in Germany's face. The click of the lock felt especially cruel. Shut out again. Had it always been like this? Had it always been so frequent? When he was first formed, he remembered being ushered around and included. Bismarck took great joy in teaching him the ropes, informing Ludwig of what was being done to strengthen him and help him develop further. The first Wilhelm and Friedrich, they were kind to him. They showed him the affairs of state, talked to him about what they felt it meant to be German and to lead the German people.

But with the second Wilhelm, things had grown more closeted. Gilbert had always been in every meeting, had always known everything that was happening, but now everyone only seemed to want him. He had suddenly become a nuisance, his lack of certainty a liability. It grew worse when Berlin found out that he hadn't invaded France when there was the opening. That he had ordered his men to dig trenches, to follow the plan instead of capitalizing on the opening. Damn Prussia and his generals, they seemed to hate him for his ignorance. But he wouldn't be so ignorant if they bothered to teach him.

Ludwig walked back to the dining hall, staring out at the empty chairs. Resentment was churning up in him, hot and fiery. All everybody wanted was Prussia. Prussia this and Prussia that. Even the other nations preferred to negotiate with him. Germany could count on one hand the number of times he'd been alone with Britain and Russia. And each time they had sneered at him, letting him know that he could never measure up. That he was just a shadow of his brother, controlled by him and nothing more than a front for his brother's ambitions.

They were fools, all of them. They were so old, they couldn't recognize when change was upon them. He understood why America preferred to keep to himself and stay away from the squabbles of these old men. They were intimidated by the young nations, the nations with promise and a fire in their belly to prove themselves. Well, he was one of them too. Germany was great. Germany was a powerful and unstoppable force of nature. He could stand independently on his own, without being propped up by an ancient system of kings and Junkers. No, he heard what the people wanted and he agreed.

"A Germany for the real Germans," he whispered. He shivered. The words tasted toso good on his tongue. Yes, a nation for the real sons and daughters of Germany, the ones who were proud of their blood and would listen to the people's will. A pure Germany, a powerful Germany.

He would get his way. He knew it, they all had to know it or else why would they be afraid? All he had to do was wait.

[quakerjoe]

This is a long read, but it’s the best damned thing I’ve read in a long time... ~Joe

I stopped watching Chernobyl after the first episode because a lifetime ago, I was a serious physics nerd and everything they were saying was absurd about the levels of radiation. Last night we watched the other 4 episodes and I thought maybe I might try and push the rock up the hill again and maybe open some eyes about where we are right now in this truly dystopic Orwellian nightmare. J. Robert Oppenheimer was a particular hero to me as a teen because he was so brilliant and accomplished the impossible in just 18 months. If you have not read American Prometheus, I highly recommend it because it details a time when we had a government of imbeciles running around with their hair on fire about communists who threw people in jail who wouldn't admit to that old drunk McCarthy that they were communists. Like all demagogues, McCarthy thought he was the lone arbiter of who was and who wasn't a patriot and he rose to such prominence because he was willing to lie about anything to make his baseless allegations. But Joe McCarthy was no patriot nor was his principle henchman Roy Cohn. They used the collective paranoias of stupid people to manufacture a crisis that did not exist. They destroyed lives and relished doing it to what would be referred now as the 'elitist liberals' like Dalton Trumbo and Oppy. Oppy was an extremely educated liberal who spoke to other people like him. Some of whom were communists. This made him a threat in the minds of the men who put Julius and Ethel Rosenberg to death. Ethel was entirely innocent but that didn't matter to a public brought to full froth by the hysteria of the day. Those men beating the drums of patriotism could not conceive of a man like Oppy talking to a communist and not be a communist himself, the same was said of Trumbo. Guilt by association was just enough for the likes of Cohn and McCarthy. "For each lie, a debt to the truth is incurred." Chernobyl Historians have written heroic books about the great generals of WWII, MacArthur and Patton being the most famous and they do deserve their notoriety but they ignored to a large extent who actually won the war for the allies and that comes down to two men: Alan Turing and J. Robert Oppenheimer. By any measure, Alan was the greatest man of the 20th century. Oppy is a bit harder to fit into that calculus and he said so himself because he knew atomic weapons would change the world and not in a good way. It's true the Japanese were whipped and that Doolittle could have continued to firebomb Japanese cities until the Japanese came to heel but that is still speculation. After Nagasaki, the war was over right or wrong, Oppy did that and saved hundreds of thousands of American troops. After the war, McCarthy went after Oppy. He wasn't treated like the hero he was and didn't want to be. He was treated like a Soviet agent and stripped of all of his security clearances because he would not name names. He was threatened with prison, his jobs were taken from him and he was exiled from the community of scientists that *he* built because of the lies of scum like McCarthy and Cohn. Alan Turing didn't fair much better from his government either. The McCarthys of that time didn't really believe in America at all, he wasn't a patriot no matter how loudly his supporters screamed it. McCarthy didn't think the idea of America could survive 'communist infiltration'. He had no grasp of why communism spread in Russia like wildfire because to his primitive and ignorant mind, he didn't know what it was like to live under a Tsar. 'If it spread there then it can spread here' was the thinking because McCarthy didn't understand or believe in the ideals that founded America. To him, they were so weak and feeble that communism would be preferable than what we had in America. That lie destroyed lives, destroyed families and stands as a black stain on our nation's history. The thing about liars is that they have to tell bigger and bigger lies to cover for all the small ones and then that debt to the truth comes due. It came to McCarthy when Joseph Welch lanced the festering boil that was McCarthyism with the truth. Before Welch delivered his fatal blow, he reacted to McCarthy's slander with this: "And so, Senator, I asked him to go back to Boston. Little did I dream you could be so reckless and so cruel as to do an injury to that lad. It is true he is still with Hale & Dorr. It is true that he will continue to be with Hale & Dorr. It is, I regret to say, equally true that I fear he shall always bear a scar needlessly inflicted by you. If it were in my power to forgive you for your reckless cruelty, I would do so. I like to think I'm a gentle man, but your forgiveness will have to come from someone other than me." Then a moment later, he drew the blade that ended the national nightmare when he murdered McCarthy with the indelible truth: Mr. Welch: You've done enough. Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency? McCarthy and Cohn of course had no decency. Cohn delighted in going after homosexuals and destroying their lives while being a homosexual himself. They were the most vile hypocrites the world had ever known. McCarthy incapable of feeling shame, drank himself to death after he was humiliated as the coward he was. I sat there thinking about this as the full horror of what happened at Chernobyl unfolded. The entirety of the Russian government played out exactly like Trump having all of his cabinet praising his greatness, it was vulgar, it was disgusting. Then I remembered all the other dictators I've read about in history who surrounded themselves with sycophants. Martin Bormann being the reference example who served Hitler so faithfully. Bormann was a slack-jowled imbecile who was barely qualified to lick stamps but nobody in the Reich dare cross the thug because he was Hitler's favorite yes man. I remember that day Trump's cabinet took turns telling Trump how honored they were to serve under his super terrifically awesomeness and that they were but boot-licking sycophants. Pence really had to lather up Trump's ass before he could muster a vulgar enough kiss to satisfy that insidious git. I sat thinking that this was the lowest moment in the history of the Republic. What separated them from the Soviet Central Committee under Gorbechev? Not a damn thing. They *all* lie for a living and kiss the dear leader's ass. It was the most unAmerican thing ever done in the White House. It was sheer cowardice by each and every single one of them. Any man who had a lick of honor would have walked out in disgust to save what's left of their honor. The *only* one who got out of this administration with any was General Mattis. And you can see this cult in all of its terrible glory if you just glance at any of the stories coming in from visitors to the concentration camps now open on United States' soil. There are zero testimonials from any objective visitor who says conditions are fine. Last Thursday a government Lawyer argued to 3 appellate judges that giving toothbrushes and toothpaste were luxury items not to be afforded for the $700-$800 a day American tax payers are paying private prison companies to house these thousands of misdemeanor offenders. Republicans have strenuously objected to calling these 'detention centers' 'concentration camps' because nothing offends cult members like the truth about what they are really do. Ask any Scientologist if you're not positive of this undeniable fact. Children are living outside, locked up and fully exposed to the elements without food and running water because the man who concocted this policy is a 32-year-old psychopath named Stephen Miller who has devised schemes to strip parents of their children as a 'deterrent' from coming to the US. I remember wondering as I read The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich how so many people were duped into voting Hitler into office and here I am now witnessing it. I see right wing lunatics actually calling people 'Antifa' as if it is some slur. "Antifa'' meaning 'anti-fascist.' They seem wholly unaware that Americans won a war against fascism because we were all against what the Axis was doing. What the nazis knew was that they needed to control the press. What modern fascists like Rupert Murdoch have learned is that it is easier to control the masses with propaganda and to do that is to obey Goebbels' edict to 'accuse the other side for what you are guilty of.' This is where Republicans are now. There is no Republican party anymore. It is a cult of personality except it isn't Hitler being exalted by the hoards of half-literate morons, it's Trump. Trump lies to them and they breath in his lies and they repeat them with a religious fervor because none of them are aware that for each lie they tell, they incur a debt to the truth. In Germany and in Chernobyl, those lies always caused death on a mass scale either through incompetence or outright evildoing. Here we are at a crossroads in American history with an ignorant electorate chanting 'lock her up' as if that's something that's going to happen. The Secretary of the Treasury is openly breaking federal law in full few of all these miscreants and the cult doesn't care. The Attorney General of the United States, the highest law enforcement official in the land openly committed perjury before the US Congress. The President has committed election fraud, violated the emoluments clause and committed more acts of obstruction of justice than can be counted in full view of the American people and the sad fact of the matter is nothing is being done about it. The Republican cult doesn't even want to pretend like they don't want the Russians involved in the next election. They've done exactly nothing to safeguard our elections from Russian interference because they are so easily bought by Putin that they aren't going to do a damn thing to stop someone who is trying to help them win elections. I don't know what it takes before the people take to the streets but if opening up concentration camps isn't appalling enough to put the spurs in then nothing will. This is how it was done, the chipping away of normalcy with outrage after outrage until insanity became the new normal because as Voltaire so presciently said, 'anyone who can make you believe absurdity can make you commit atrocities.' Little children are locked up outside in the elements without so much as a blanket to protect them. They have no rights to anything because the courts are so overwhelmed with cases now that it will take many years before any of these refugees get a hearing. They're standing children up in front of a judge without a lawyer to defend themselves against imaginary crimes of crossing a line on a rock turning 35,000 mph in a small solar system. Republicans stole a supreme court seat and they will continue to lie, cheat and steal to remain in power. That's why Mitch has delivered over 100 carefully selected members of the Heritage Society to fill vacant judicial posts because he does not care about our democracy, he cares about power. As many Republicans have said, they only need someone to sign stuff, they don't care who. Trump is perfect for their agenda and democracy has never been on their agenda, usurping it is. 20 years of Murdoch's brainwashing has gotten us to this point and if anyone really believed in justice in this country, the heads of everyone at Fox would be rolling down main street as a lesson to future ambitious propagandists who mean to undermine our nation as that rogue Australian has done more than any other. To rid ourselves of this seditious scourge is going to take all of us who agree to speak with one voice at the ballot box. It's going to take protests on a scale not seen in the US. Blood is already being spilled in these concentration camps. Edmund Burke's warning that all it takes for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing is coming to pass *yet again* and here we are at tyranny's doorstep. How much is enough? What atrocity must be committed on American soil before we get off our sorry asses and start doing something about it? If you don't think we aren't at war with a very determined enemy bent on destroying our country then you need to wake up to reality before we wake up that one morning like Martin Niemöller did when he said, "First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me." Every single Republican in office right now is an enemy of the United States who are conspiring with our foreign enemies to keep themselves in power. So are the people who vote for them because they are no different than the people who voted Hitler into office. I sincerely hope if you agree with what I have said here that you spread this message with any like-minded people because as of yet, I haven't seen any presidential candidates calling these concentration camps what they are. If we don't start preparing for next November today, we could wake up to another 4 years of Trump. Our nation cannot survive such a reckless criminal administration the likes of this one for another four years. The nation will be bankrupt and in its death rattle. We can start speaking in unison this Independence Day by squelching this Trump celebration in DC by turning the real patriots out on a scale he can't imagine. It's time to start fighting and dirty at that while there's still something worth fighting for. #Resist Your very life depends on it as does our future.

- Thomas Clay

[evangelineartemiasamos]

do you mind elaborating on why you are anti bri/jame? no worries if you don't want to talk about it. i myself first read their riverlands arc as a redemption arc for J and an internal honor arc for both of them rather than a romantic one, then i saw that a lot of people shipped it. so i'm always interested in seeing why people have stronger opinions on the ship (both pro and anti) than i do. - maxine

Don’t worry, this is fine. Indeed, I’d like to talk about them, so thanks for asking.

Note that my opinions are based on when I read the books 7 years ago, so a) my memories are bound to be vague, and b) I never gave the show version of them a shipping chance.

My foremost reason why I don’t ship them is because Jaime treats Brienne like shit. He insults her aloud and in his head and I don’t abide this kind of bullying, least of all the concept of from bully to lover. No bullying victim deserves this, and I think only someone who wasn’t bullied can imagine not only to forgive a bully, but also to fall in love with them. But that’s just me. I don’t think a bullying victim can ever fully trust their bully (again) which is necessary for love. It’s hard for bullying victims to trust people in general, and Jaime cuts into the very same wounds Brienne already had to deal with for years. So it’s good that he changes, but that is only basic human decency, not romance. I mean, look at Tormund in the show. He admires Brienne from the start and supports her. I don’t remember for sure if his behaviour is always appropriate (ID, whether his behaviour borders on sexual harassment), but his affection is what I think someone like Brienne needs. So this is why I couldn’t see Jaime and Brienne in a romantic light from the start.

Another point, which is somewhat different to the first, is that I think their morals are incompatible. Their contrast is well-written and was a good idea for the story and character development, but I see it mostly as this: a plot device. I like how Jaime and Brienne display different aspects of chivalry to explore its meaning and, in my opinion, to undermine it. Jaime is seen as the perfect knight because he comes from the right family, has the right job, great fighting skills and looks good. But all of these traits are shallow and have nothing to with chivalry and moral behaviour or with Jaime as a person, who is indifferent, self-serving, biased, weak-willed, ruthless and living in an adulterous, incestuous (and traitorous) relationship. And while he is praised for his superficially “good” traits, he is reviled for the one thing he did out of convinction it was the morally right deed for the greater good - killing Aerys. I find him very interesting for this, because he embodies so well the main message of moral ambiguity in ASOIAF. Jaime follows his own opinions, but the problem is that he has so few. He could be willing to subvert Westerosi conventions if he cared enough and dared to act, but like everyone else, he is still bound by rules too. Or rather he lets himself be ruled and manipulated by Cersei and Tywin as he’s too coward to really go his own way and rather remains in toxic relationships. But as the story progresses, the image the reader can make of him is quite fluid because he has a lot of potential that is used in the story. And then, not only our image of him changes, but also Jaime himself.

Brienne, on the other hand, behaves according to the actual chivalric code and is willing to follow it no matter what. She doesn’t let herself be stopped by conventions saying no to her and for that, she faces a huge amount of backlash. Brienne is how a knight should be, but society doesn’t accept her because she doesn’t fit the perfect, superficial image like Jaime (for being female in a misogynistic world). You might think that is admirable, and in a way, I agree. But it also means that Brienne behaves in a very dogmatic way, refusing many ways act right from the start because she can’t unite them with her naive dream of ideal chivalry. It doesn’t exist, and so Brienne fails. Often. The world throws rocks at her again and again and she hardly thinks of changing and adapting.

Chivalry is the most important thing to Brienne but it is also what harms her as society has lost and forgotten the meaning of chivalry. I can understand that she holds on to it to keep going, but that doesn’t mean that I have to like that. In my opinion, Martin is trying to say that chivalry is dead because it’s lost its meaning, so people have to find their own ways to do the right thing instead of clinging to something outlived. That idea appeals to me a lot, I have to admit. Brienne isn’t willing to reform her concept of chivalry although it’d would help her to protect herself. This might be my petty streak, but I would’ve respected someone more who realizes the flaws fo their beliefs and yet finds a method to integrate them into a more prolific way of life. Brienne’s behaviours irks me.

I think the dynamic of Sansa and Sandor deals with similar fallible assumptions of knighthood, but displays more nuance in the way Sansa reacts to her fracturing beliefs and learns from that.

I believe an appeal of Brienne and Jaime’s dynamic lies in changing him and less her. In a way, Jaime slowly learns to care for a stranger he starts with being as indifferent to as to nearly everyone else. That is pretty big for Jaime amd sparking his further development, but not a future romance (losing his hand also plays a role here of course, as it means that he too loses his perfect knight image and has to reevaluate how to embody knighthood). Brienne works as a role model he needed to change, but this development is unequal. IDK, I think their characters arcs are more about finding themselves instead of the other. So far as the books go, this dynamic doesn’t evolve. They’re two people who came to respect one another, nothing more. I don’t see him and Brienne suddenly walking down the romantic route together because they’re going in different ways. Of course, you might say they are going in similar ways because Jaime takes Brienne’s chivalry to heart, but that doesn’t erase all the shit he has done. He’ll have to face the consequences without hiding behind his family and his image and I don’t believe Brienne will follow there. She might listen, but I rather see her as his (fair) judge than someone who falls for him despite everything.

And all in all, I hate the sheer heteronormativeness of the ship. “Oh, we have a woman and man going through a quest and many dangers together and while they quarrle and get to know and grow fond of each other, so surely it has to mean they’ll fall in love!!” Eww, no thanks. As I elaborated above, Jaime merely learns not to be an arrogant ass and to treat someone who isn’t part of his esteemed disgusting family with decency and respect. Furthermore, Jaime isn’t even ready to be in another romantic relationship because while he doesn’t know how he feels for Cersei, he does know that he still feels too close to her. When I read the books, I tried to ignore any hints there might be a romance between Brienne and Jaime, and that worked because their interaction is platonic and should be allowed to remain so. Being an anti is more about many in the fandom wanting to see them together while I can’t stand the idea.

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Brickclub: 1.1.11

This is a note that I wrote on my last time through this chapter, about the ‘poverty is the first proof of charity’ bit, but I think it highlights the core defect of the Bishop’s philosophy:

“I don't know quite what to do with this. On the surface -- ignoring the glorification of poverty -- it seems fair enough. The idea of charity by the wealthy being an inherent contradiction in terms is a solid enough one, especially when paired with the earlier illustrative anecdotes like that of the 'paying his way into heaven one sou at a time' dude and also the things the Bible has to say about rich people. Certainly as far as the Bishop is concerned, if you still have stuff then you're not charity-ing hard enough.

But, on the other hand, it's still an entirely individual approach. The Bishop is never really, I don't think, able to conceptualize of a world where poverty doesn't *exist at all.* He views the poor kind of like how he views the spiders: unfortunate, blameless for their situation, and eternal. And from his perspective they are, because he cannot really handle the concept that personal charity isn't enough. *His* personal charity isn't enough, but his idea is that if everyone were like him then things would be better. He relies on the inherent goodness within human beings. Which is good and honorable and definitely commendable in a religious leader, but ultimately kind of a bandaid solution. If your solution relies on people choosing to be good, then the moment people, for whatever reason and not even all people, stop choosing to be good then you're right back where you started. He rejects the more permanent solution -- institutional change such as the French Revolution -- to a point where he can't even really conceptualize of it.”

And we see this in action. We’re told that the encounter with G does nothing but make him kinder, i.e. the effect of being exposed to the idea of institutional change is that he doubles down on ideas of individual change. The Bishop goes to the synod of Bishops and chides his colleagues for accepting the wealth given to them, rather than critiquing the system that gives them that wealth in the first place. Or, in other words, “I do not blame the law, but I do thank God.” The Bishop’s a monarchist, a traditionalist, a product of the ancien regime and one who, had the Revolution not happened, probably would have had no issues living out his life with the privileges afforded to him by his birth. He believes in social order, believes that the problems of society can be solved through individual actions and good intentions. It’s not that he objects to systemic change as a concept -- his preaching to his villagers about how they can do better by their vulnerable groups shows that he absolutely encourages social change -- it’s that he thinks the best way to implement it is to convince the people in power that it’s the right thing to do.

I’m really curious about the dynamics within the Myriel family, now that we know there are four of them. More accurately, I’m curious about how all three of the men ended up, at least initially, being worldly and comfortable. The Bishop only became  priest after his wife died in exile -- I think it’s not a huge stretch to assume that, had that not happened, he would have remained a lightly hedonist aristo. Meanwhile, Baptistine is described from the start as having led a life that was one saintly action after another. I’ve long headcanoned that, after the death of Myriel’s wife, it was Baptistine who led him to God, perhaps as a way of healing or processing the loss. So you have a family of three worldly brothers and a sainted sister, which on the one hand is, you know, somewhat Problems, but is also really intriguing to dig into. (And how do the other brothers feel about Baptistine starving for the sake of her brother’s convictions? Presumably she doesn’t complain to them, but do they wonder about it? Or has her whole life been so devoted to others that even the people she grew up with find it all too easy to forget that she’s a person with her own preferences and needs? Now I’ve made myself sad again...

I love this sentence: “we do not confuse what are called ‘political opinions’ with the grand aspiration for progress, with the sublime, patriotic, democratic, humane faith, which today ought to be the very foundation of all generous understanding."

I love it for what it actually says, and I love it because it is 1000% a Gautier shoutout. But it’s also Hugo very pointedly Calling People Out. It’s Hugo looking his readers in the eye and going, “of course you agree that we should exercise basic human decency and treat people as people, as any decent person does” and daring them to object or argue.

I also love the closing sentence of the chapter (Hugo is really good at closing sentences, honestly). It perfectly captures the kind of benign, unconscious doublethink that everyone does. (Although it’s a better pun in French, where the wording is ‘adoraient leurs empereur’ which means both love and worship. ‘Adorer’ is what you do to God. Wordreference helpfully notes that there are people still who restrict ‘adorer’ just to how you feel about God. Which, actually, now that I think about it, probably means that Hugo here is using it as not just a pun but another ‘God is more powerful than Napoleon’ moment -- the adoration that the people have for Napoleon is not strong enough to overpower the love they have for the Bishop, and, by extension, the God he represents.)

Final note: the Bishop is basically the anti-Marius, with regards to his title, isn’t he? I think this is literally the only mention of it, and clearly he doesn’t think much of it.

[bespectacled-girl-blog]

Headcanons for the chocobros + Nyx and Cor about meeting their future s/o for the first time :)

Thanks for that, it was SO MUCH fun to write! Nyx and Ignis were the hardest, but I hope you will like it nonetheless.I think I may have read too many Cor stories by @themissimmortal, because he was probably the easiest one to write XD

Noctis

- The two of you met during one of those balls where everybody hates to go but goes nevertheless because they need to be seen.

- It was a ball in honor of the relations between Lucis and your country.

- As the child of one of your country’s leaders, you were naturally invited.

- Plus you’re about the same age as Noct, and your father thought it would help convince the prince to go.

- Noctis didn’t want to go, of course, he hates this kind of event the most.

- And Ignis made him wear a stupid suit.

- He hates that even more. It makes him feel even more awkward and clumsy.

- He stays in a corner of the ballroom the whole evening, waiting for the time when it won’t be considered rude to leave.

- When he sees you, everything stops around: the music, time, the course of the stars.

- You love this kind of event, so you’re smiling broadly.

- Your smile is what captures Noct’s heart.

- He doesn’t dare approach you.

- Now he feels completely stupid in his damn suit.

- But when you notice him, your smile widens and you walk to him.

- He looks so cute in his suit, even though he doesn’t seem to be aware of it.

- You’re the one who asks him to dance, and even though he looks like he’s about to refuse, his “yes” comes unexpected.

- After that night the two of you become inseparable and you’re even allowed to stay in Lucis, the excuse being you want to better understand the culture of your neighbour ;)

Prompto

- You’ve just been recruited in the crownsguard.

- You’ve been there for like three days.

- It has always been your dream but you feel so insecure about what you’re worth.

- You literally think you’ve been recruited because your father was in the crownsguard.

- You’re quite good with guns, but you’re not sure it will be enough.

- That day when you start training, you notice the cutest guy you’ve ever seen.

- It looks like it’s his first day, he’s holding his crownsguard uniform in his hands, waiting for orders.

- He looks just as nervous as you, shifting his weight from one foot to the other constantly.

- You notice he’s accompanied by none other than Cor the Immortal.

- How intimidating.

- Prompto’s gaze meets yours suddenly.

- You literally lose your composure, dropping the shield you were learning to use.

- The noise attracts everybody’s attention in the courtyard.

- Prompto feels immediately attracted by you, you seem to have so much in common.

- At lunch break, Prompto comes to sit beside you, giving you the brightest smile ever.

- The two of you quickly bond over your own insecurities, giving the other confidence in their own abilities.

 Gladio

- Gladio is going home after a hard day of training Noctis.

- He’s lost in his thoughts, brooding over the way the prince acts like a brat.

- Even if they have grown fond of each other over the years, sometimes he wishes he didn’t have to become Noct’s shield

- As he passes a dark alleyway, he hears a muffled cry.

- Doesn’t notice at first, then backtracks.

- Finds you behind a trashcan, in the middle of being mugged

- The thief barely makes it alive, before Gladio calls the cops.

- He walks you back home, after making sure you’re not physically hurt.

- Puts you in bed, gets hot chocolate for you, and ends up sleeping on the couch just in case you need anything.

- When you find him on the couch you prepare the perfect breakfast for your knight in shining armor.

- When he gets up and sees you cooking for him in the kitchen, he notices how cute you are.

- You end up spending the whole day together, getting to know each other better.

- And the day after that.

- And the day after.

- You know what I mean.

Ignis

- That day Ignis arrives to the Citadel, knowing he has to train a new assistant that will take a job among the royal family’s staff.

- This is one of the most boring jobs he has to do, but he does it nevertheless, being a dutiful royal employee.

- Because most of the time the people he trains are as familiar with the royal family’s world as he is, coming from noble families.So basically he has nothing to teach them and he just shows them around and that’s it.

- But you are different.

- You’re a mere commoner who achieved this position through hard work only.

- On your first day, you’re a mess, you haven’t slept, because you were so nervous.

- Ignis doesn’t like your dishevelled appearance at first.

- He has no idea that it’s not how you usually look.

- On your first day you’re so tense and clumsy, that Ignis soon comes to the conclusion that you’re going to be a total failure at this.

- He finds you crying at lunch break, and realises he’s been too harsh on you.

- He apologizes for his behaviour right away.

- On the second day you arrive properly rested, and more relaxed.

- The two of you start things over, Ignis going more slowly and discovering how hard-working you are.- That’s the first thing that draws him to you.

- You’re very shy around him, because you’re intimidated by his perfect manners and composure.

- But you soon discover that he also knows to relax from time to time, and the two of you find that you have more in common that you thought at first.

 Nyx

- Nyx has been dragged to the newest nightclub in Insomnia.- Crowe wanted to have a good time, and Nyx and Libertus couldn’t refuse her.

- Crowe often tells Nyx he needs to relax, and that it’s a good occasion.

- At first Nyx stays at the bar, drinking his beer without really looking around.

- But after a while he finds himself on the dancefloor, really enjoying himself.

- He dances with a few enchanting creatures, not thinking much about it.

- Until he sees you.

- You’re dancing alone, as if in a trance.

- You’re beautiful, and you know it.

- Even though the dancefloor is cramped, there is space around you, as if people didn’t dare to touch you, for fear of interrupting you.

- Nyx sees something magical in your dance.

- Entranced by the way you move, he walks toward you.

- When you notice him, your gaze locks with him and you beckon him to come closer.

- He can’t help but obey, he’s under your spell.

- You dance together, going so far as to share a kiss, overwhelmed by the sensuality of your moves.

- You often love to dance with sexy partners, but it often stops after that, each of you going their separate ways.

- But not this time.

- When  Nyx asks for your number, you don’t know what makes you give it to him.

- You decide that even if he calls you won’t answer, it’s not a good idea.

- Two days later, you find yourself seated in a restaurant with Nyx, still completely bewitched by his eyes, the way he talks, his demaneor.

- He seems to feel the same way, and you end up spending the night talking, sharing your lives with each other.

Cor

- That day in the courtyard, Cor is in a bad mood.

- He has to welcome a new assistant who will help him with the training of the new crownsguard recruits.

- Cor knows only a few things about you, and he dislikes what he’s learned.

- You used to work as a bureaucrat in another part of the kingdom.

- But your uncle belongs to the Council, so it’s probably the reason why you got the job.

- He despises you before even seeing you, because there’s no way you will be up to the task with your background.

- When he sees you enter the training courtyard, his first impression is confirmed.

- You look so out of place with your neat and tidy appearance and well groomed hair.

- He can’t help notice that you’re really beautiful, but that doesn’t change what he thinks of you.

- After greeting you as coldly as he can, he proposes to offer a show to the recruits, so you can demonstrate your ‘talents’.

- He puts all the irony of the world in his words.

- You’re a bit offended by his unwelcoming attitude, and try not to show the effect the Immortal has on you.

- Of course, you accept his challenge.

- Little does he know your administrative job was just a cover for a spy job, and that you are well trained.

- You let him come at you, making a show of not knowing how to fight.

- When Cor is confident he’s going to win, you disarm him and knock him to the ground effortlessly.

- Once he’s back on his feet and training is over, Cor has the decency to apologise for misjudging you.

- He’s impressed at your skill.

- After that he warms up toward you and treats you like his equal, and you become the perfect team.

[aileen-hollingsworth]

His Return ~ #5

A/N: Random fic for y’all, no final-proof-reading because of time, so ignore minor typos. Thanks as always to @haidenschreave for the rp. This is getting a bit into Aileen’s family at the beginning and later on it get’s into her relationship with Haiden. There’s a small section in third person as a flashback I guess.

His voice was a bit gruffer than the last time I’d heard it but I recognized it all the same. “Aileen…is that you?”

That’s not David. I froze. My grip tightened around the phone as I felt a lump form in my throat. Then there was silence, from both his side of the line and mine. All my brain could do was scream over and over again: he’s back. I couldn’t believe it. It had been years. This doesn’t make any sense. What are you doing here? Why now? Why did you even leave? I wanted to scream, but I didn’t.

“Aileen—”

I hung before he could say anything else and could only stare at my hand, still firmly gripping the phone for a while.

“That was an awfully short call for the amount of minutes you begged me for a second one.”

I turned around to the staff member nearby. He was looking at me with a raised eyebrow and I didn’t blame him. It had taken me ten minutes to convince him of letting me have a second call after I talked with my parents. “They were busy” is all I could come up with as I walked out. The walk back to my room was short and mostly a blur. Once I was safely inside my room all I could do was sit on the corner of my bed for a while and stare at my white knuckles as they curled into fists.

“Are you alright?” Sydney’s voice snapped me out of my daze. I’d finally been assigned my third maid and she was even older than Anne, probably a few years over my mother’s age as well.

“Yes, could I just...have the room for a while, please?”

She looked at me slightly concerned but accepted my wishes. When she left I flopped my back to the bed and stared at the ceiling.

Sam was back.

                                                                ~~~~

“Seems like your cousin has a lot of fans” Scott snickered. Sam just rolled his eyes and looked back at David a few feet away from their group. Aileen stared at their cousin impatiently too, but rather than because she was jealous it was because she was hungry and wanted to head home.

David was surrounded by a group of ten girls asking for autographs and pictures. Back then he wasn’t used to all the attention, so you could see him weirdly smiling at each selfie he took, trying to sign the autographs at the same time. His first single had come out barely a week ago but it was already a hit. Aileen—barely eleven back then—was just glad more people weren’t around.

“Can you believe that could be you if you’d been a Two?” Ty added, continuing Scott’s teasing, all aimed at Sam.

It was a cruel joke. Sam was never outstanding at any of the jobs Threes had access to, but he was a good actor. No one could deny it. He’d gotten the talent from his mother, but it was a worthless talent if he could never use it as a Three. He’d never straight out blamed their mother for marrying someone from a lower caste when she herself was a Two—which would have been a ridiculous statement anyway considering any variable in his DNA would have meant the obliteration of his existence—but he had been really harsh about asking them to raise his caste.

Their father was a successful man and his name was growing as it was, but he couldn't really fulfill his eldest son’s wishes just yet, and considering the attitude he saw in Sam he refused even further, especially since he was still not even eighteen.

Sam had resented the decision for months and only begrudgingly accepted it later on. He was young however, barely seventeen at the moment. Treating his parents so coldly would not be the last foolish mistake he would make.

Hanging out with people as Scott and Ty didn't precisely help either. They were prideful Twos, from important families, but no talent themselves. They would just inherit the high places their father’s possessed when the time came. There entertainment mostly came from belittling lower castes (and that did not exclude their so called ‘friend’, Sam).

“How about you both shut up, I don't see your fans anywhere.”

Scott and Ty just chuckled. The comment didn’t bother them enough, they knew their fame was measured in different ways, and it wasn't like they were any less popular at school.

Aileen considered speaking up, but back when Sam had barely started hanging out with them—back when he acted more often like a decent human being—he’d told her never to say anything that would star an argument, as he himself had not earned the place to do so in the group yet. Dare he admit it or not, he’d told her that because he didn’t trust himself not to punch them if they hurt his sister in any way.

For Aileen that meant no clever comebacks, wit or sarcasm to defend him. Even though Sam freely used them now, she always kept the rule as prudence. That’s why she remained silent as always, just crossing her arms. She did however notice David’s brief look of disapproval aimed at Scott and Ty between pictures.

“David, will you hurry up? Your mom is going to kill us both if we’re late.” Sam grumbled at him, and the aforementioned looked back at him while answering the girl’s requests.

“Uh, yes—” Snap. “just, give me a sec—” Snap. “I’m almost done.” Sign an autograph.

Sam shoved his hands inside his pockets annoyed, but waited. David wrapped it up as quickly as possible and then said his goodbye, which the girls lamented. “Okay, let’s go before someone else shows up.”

Sam sighed. “Finally.”

“Get used to it, Sam. From now on hanging out with David will be like this.” Ty said, placing an arm over David with a grin.

David had to stop himself from giving him a look of disgust and just shrugged off his arm. At fifteen he had better judgement than Sam when it came to friends.“That’s not true.”

“You don’t have to soften the blow for your cousin, kid.” Scott chuckled as he gave Sam a pat on the back. Ty this time placed a hand on David’s shoulder before laughing.

Sam sneered at him, and David scowled at Scott. “Will both of you stop? I’m not trying to soften any blows.” Then jerking away from Ty, he grabbed Aileen’s hand. “And stop touching me like we’re friends because we’re not. I would never hang out with either of you.”

Ty scoffed and Scott only snorted before cocking his head at the opposite side of the street. “Come on, we have things to do. See you around Sam.”

Once they were gone David shook his head and glared at Sam. “Remind me again why you hang out with those jerks?”

“I can hang out with whoever I want” was all he grumbled.

Aileen went to bed that night still confused as to why her brother tolerated hanging out with people that treated him like that. Neither David or Aileen understood the reasons behind the decision until years later. Aileen could only assume his fixation on a life he couldn’t have made him forget about common sense and decency, and with most of their family being a caste above them, he ended up hanging out with people that he thought he should be at the same level with, but treated him like trash. She wasn’t entirely wrong, and they definitely weren’t particularly smart reasons, but Sam himself would admit to them not being so...years later.

This because by the end of that week Sam left his uncle and aunt’s house, where he and Aileen had been staying while their parents filmed in Paloma. He only took some cash and some of his own things. He told no one about it, just vanished. All he left behind was a letter  for his parents, assuring them it had been his own decision to leave, but delivering no further explanation as to why.

With their father being on the peak point of his career as a movie producer, and delivering blockbusters all about, Aileen’s uncle decided to come up with a cover up story for the media. And so magazines only talked briefly about how the young Sam Hollingsworth had left the country on a trip to explore Europe, financed by his uncle, later on to stay there when he ‘realized he liked his life there so much’.

With time it was forgotten, and whenever new people--unaware of who her family was--asked Aileen if she had siblings or not, she declared she didn’t, telling herself it was better to accept she would never see him again than to cling to hope of him miraculously appearing one day at their doorstep.

                                                               ~~~~

I’d needed a distraction, so I went for the first idea that came to mind. In the end that was sending a note to Haiden about having his green tie hostage and being willing to exchange it for my Honor (a.k.a my stupid pin). The meetup was at 11pm, at the ballroom and he was punctual. I’d dimmed the lights so he wouldn’t see me immediately. And yes, I know that was a lot of trouble to go through, but the more dramatic I made it, the more my mind could ignore my brother’s sudden appearance and focus on something else.

“Did you bring Aileen's honor?” I asked, lowering my voice like Dylan had taught me for voice acting.

Haiden looked around the room confused. “Um, who are you?”

“Your barely-existing-conscience.” I joked, but he didn’t seem to get it.

“Uhh, what?”

“Nothing, just answer the question.” I grumbled in disappointment.

“I honestly have no idea what you're talking about.”

“What do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about!?” I dropped the fake voice.

“I don't know what you're talking about!” he repeated looking around the room again.

I turned the lights on completely and walked over to him, frantic. “HAIDEN I SWEAR IF YOU LOST IT—” I wasn’t sure of why it bothered me so much to think that he had.

“LADY AILEEN!” He yelled back in surprise, and I snapped, mad for reasons that had nothing to do with him. "DON'T YOU LADY ME. DID YOU LOSE IT?”

“I'M SO CONFUSED.”

“THE PIN. MY PIN.”

“YOU'RE DOING THIS FOR A PIN?”

A pin? A PIN? “MY HONOR HAIDEN. MY HO-NOR. I TRUSTED YOU WITH IT AND YOU GO AND FORGET ABOUT IT?” I wasn't sure of why I was yelling. I was upset, but it wasn't his fault. My outburst deflated as a pushed him with zero conviction, sighing. “You probably lost it.”

He seemed to notice there was something wrong. “Lady Aileen... are you okay?”

I could only mumble, “No, you lost my honor.”

He gave me a sympathetic look. “No, I didn't lose it. But I have a feeling this isn't about the pin.”

So much for distracting myself. I didn’t really want to talk about it yet, so I only sat crossed-legged on the floor and puffed my dress, probably giving him and unconvincing smirk. “Honor Haiden, not pin.”

He sat down next to me. “It's in my room. I didn't lose it.”

“Good…” I shook my head realizing how nuts I must have seemed. “I'm sorry about this, I needed a distraction.”

“Hey, it's all right. I'm good at distracting people.”

“You're good at distracting people?” I glanced at him with a smirk, “and here I thought you were a decent guy.”

He shrugged and I rolled my eyes amused, but unable to smile much. “Please do entertain me.”

“How would you prefer?”

I raised my eyebrow and tried keeping his serious tone. Why are we making stupid jokes half the time? “Prefer what?”

“There's much we could do.”

“Is there?” I tried my best not to laugh. “Please do explain yourself, your Highness.”

“Have you ever eaten an entire gallon of whipped cream?”

That got me laughing. Whatever innuendos we were playing with were gone now. “I don't believe I have. If you have I'd be rather worried about your health.”

“It makes you feel a lot better. Especially if you put food dye in it first. You know what, why stop at whipped cream? Let's go to the kitchen and eat everything.”

I raised both eyebrows at him, his unconventional enthusiasm rubbing on me. “Are you trying to cheer me up?”

“I'm here for whatever you want.” And they’re back.

I grinned. “If I were anyone else, this would be backfiring on you, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what someone wants can be on a various range of things.”

“I suppose you're right, but I trust you.”

I knew we we’re saying a lot of stupid things in that conversation, but I was glad to hear him say that.

Once we were in the kitchen I felt a bit more open to talking about Sam with him, so I suggested trading a secret for a secret as I sat on a chair near the counter and Haiden prepared the ice cream he’d offered me.

He grabbed chocolate syrup and candy out of the cabinet. “You have secrets?”

“Doesn't everyone?”

“Surprises me is all. But all right. I'll play.”

I raised an eyebrow at his first comment. “Wait, why does it surprise you?”

After a lot of back and forths he admitted he just didn’t think of me as one to keep secrets. With me pretending to be offended by him--not deeming me mysterious enough--he told his first secret.

“When I was 14 I set a car on fire.”

“Oh God, such a rebel.” I had to laugh at the idea of it. Are we all obsessed with fire in this damn palace? “You have to at least tell me why.”

He was almost done with his ice cream master piece when he shrugged and replied: “Because I felt like it.”

“You felt like burning a car?”

“I was 14. I wore black eyeliner and had purple hair. Nothing more needs to be said.”

“Oh wow, suddenly your secret seems a lot more valid than mine.” I joked. “Now I must figure out what other phases you went through.”

“First I want to know your secret.” He grinned, scooting a very large and colorful ice cream bowl toward me. I had to admit it looked better than anything I’d ever done myself. Grabbing my spoon I gigging in I began. “I have a brother--”  

Before I could go any further into details he frowned. “That’s a secret?”

I glared back, and shoved a second spoon with no ice cream into his mouth. “No that's not the secret. Now be quiet.”

“You're probably better off without him for now.” Haiden assured me after I finished explaining what a jerk Sam became and how he’d left.

“It was probably for the best, but I don't know. I resigned myself to admit I was pretty much brotherless and carried myself as such, but I always missed him...and apparently he finally reappeared.”

At that Haiden’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why now?”

I stared back at my ice cream. “I—I don't know. It was my turn to get a home call and I convinced the staff to let me do a second one to phone my cousins, and... well,” I closed my eyes remembering the sound of his voice “he was the one who picked up. I have no clue what he's doing there. I'm surprised uncle James even let him stay after all we went through to keep his disappearance a secret with the cover-up story.”

“It's okay,” he placed an arm around my shoulder to comfort me.

I started rambling. “I didn't even say anything I just— I just... started the call talking as if it were David and then the line went silent. When he finally spoke up and asked if it was me I was so taken aback by his voice I— I hanged up on him.”

Haiden repeated that it was okay, but I didn’t feel okay. “Is it normal that I want to go punch him in the face and then hug him...And then punch him again?

“I'm sure it's normal.”

“Any chance you wanna take me out to throw things at him, and then hug him, and then maybe yell at him?” I asked aloud and then shook my head at myself as I realized what I was saying. “Ugh, I'm being confusing right now.” I looked back at him. “Do you think I'm weird?”

“No, you're not weird.”

“I'm still sorry I came to vent.” I sighed.

“Hey, gotta see the worst in each other in order to see the best.”

For a moment I could only blink, my mind remembering how I was in I was actually in a palace competing to see if I’d get married with my current companion. The idea seemed so out of place out of the sudden. I’d just been talking to him like I would have done with Allyson or Oliver back in Dominica.

“Guess so.” I mumbled eating more ice cream.

After endeavouring on the subject of black licorice--that I was not aware of existed--we became silent again, so I decided to admit another strange story to him. “I almost burned my tree house when I was ten.”

That finally seemed to take him off guard. “How'd that happen?”

“Well... I liked watching fire when I was little.”

“I'm now going to assume every woman has an obsession with fire.” He observed, and I knew he was thinking of all the incidents the Selected had done so far surrounding fire.

“Ugh, don't mention it. That's why it bugs me when everyone wants to burn things here. Of all the girls in Illéa I had to be put with the bunch obsessed with burning? I decided fire and I shouldn't mix, and to never play with it again, but then Trace and Naomi suggest burning all the things and I have to be the responsible one.

“I was mad that day though…” I added, proceeding to explain why I almost burned my treehouse. “I'd had a fight with Sam because he wanted to leave me to go out with the jerks he'd started calling friends, but he was supposed to be babysitting me...So when he left I—well I ended up playing with my dad's lighter, and I wasn't being as careful because I was frustrated so things got slightly out of hand.”

“I understand. Fire is very dangerous.”

“At least Sam got in trouble for leaving...and the treehouse survived.”

“That's something, I guess.”

“Still don't think I'm weird?” I smirked.

“Nah, you should meet my cousins. You'd realize you're fairly normal.”

I rolled my eyes remembering my double encounter with one of his cousins on a hallway. “Well, I've met Mr. Sunshine.”

“Who?”

“Cole, he's not precisely the most welcoming person, let me tell you.”

“Oh, Cole. Right.” He almost seemed repulsed by the name. Odd.

“Do you guys get along?”

“We don't... talk much.”

I wondered if anyone could ever talk much with Cole. “Is he...too distant?”

“We've just never really gotten along.”

Does that mean he’s actually is rude or is it something else? “Is it the ‘we never try talking to each other’ family relationship?”

“I suppose so.”

That still left me guessing. “Question, do you know if he’s always a jerk or is that just how he talks?”

“Oh, no, he is.”

Well, someone seems convinced. I took another spoon full of ice cream. “Why?”

“I don't know, hormones?”

I almost choked when trying to laugh. “Oh, wow. I'll tell him to tone those down if I see him again then.”

“Oh, please do.”

I shook my head and then teasingly added, “what about you? Do you deal with your hormones responsibly Haiden?”

“Probably not, but I manage” he laughed.

I smirked. “Are they being problematic with the selection?”

“I'd like to think not but who knows.”

“You think you've got good candidates among us?”

“I think so, yeah. You're all amazing and intelligent.”

“Won't argue with that.” I smiled before shoving some ice cream into his mouth. “Now Haiden, tell me something about you.”

“Ow! My teeth are sensitive.” He protested and I laughed.

“Don't be a baby.”

“Not a baby, it's a serious issue.” he muttered, taking the spoon out of his mouth and making a face as he swallowed the cold ice cream.

“Wait, are you serious? I'm sorry! I didn't know!” Way to go, Aileen.

“There's a fact for you.” He laughed. “The Prince of Illea has the worst teeth in the whole country. It took five years of correction wearing braces.”

“Did you look cute with them?”

“They were clear, thank God.”

“Well, I used night guards when I was younger--and let me tell you they were annoying--but besides that my teeth were blessed.” I flashed my teeth at him as if to reinforce the argument.

“Lucky. My parents spent so much on my teeth, but I should be thankful that they're straight.”

“Wouldn't want a crooked-teeth smile on that handsome face now would we.”

“I'm already crooked. That's another feature.”

“What does that even mean?” I frowned.

“My horrible sense of humor. Ignore it.”

“No, no. Now you have to explain. I hope you're not implying you're going to lead a crooked kingdom.”

“No, I feel like that's been achieved.”

At that I raised both my eyebrows. “Oh, I definitely want you to elaborate on that.”

“Well, you aren't getting one. It's your turn.”

“Oh, come on.”

“Nope.”

I tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal by eating some ice cream. I really did want to know what he meant. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “Do you say that because of the castes?” It felt like a risky topic, but I made the question anyways.

“Nope. Not saying.”

“Not fair.” I mumbled, and when I realized he wouldn’t explained I resigned myself to continue with my ice cream. “Fine, I'll let it pass, but you better tell me one day. Relationships are built on trust Haiden.”

“Yeah, but there's still 15 girls left and I don't want to start spilling national secrets to just anyone.”

I rolled my eyes and joked, “great, now I'll never find out.”

“Maybe you will.”

Hmm...I didn’t reply at first, and after eating one more tablespoon of ice cream I looked back at him, resting my elbow on the counter and my chin on my hand. I wondered how long it would take him to feel uncomfortable with eye contact.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, but I only grinned without saying anything. That’s when he leaned closer to my face. “This is getting creepy.” Still no mayor response. Good. I leaned closer and he managed ten more seconds before speaking up.

“Can I ask a question now?”

“Ten seconds, but not completely awkward response. Interesting.” I noted. It had been more than ten seconds if you counted the moments before he had leaned closer to me. It was not bad at all. Handling eye contact was a good sign. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Do you like me?”

I’d been thinking about that the past few minutes, but the question still caught me off guard. I hoped he hadn’t noticed. “What do you mean?”

“Do you...like me?”

“Umm, well,” I felt my cheeks heat up. No matter what I felt I usually blushed when talking about things like that. “Do you have an answer to that question yourself?”

“Do I like myself? Yeah, I'd hope so.”

I elbowed him, lightly laughing. “No, I meant... if you know if you like me.”

“Of course I like you.”

“You do?” There was just something off about us. I knew we felt attracted to each other... I just wasn’t sure how deep it went. Not only speaking for me, but for him as well.

“You wouldn't be here if I didn't.”

“Well--yeah but--like---maybe you...I don't know. Just think I'm not that bad…” What am I saying?

“What do you mean?”

I let out a grunt of exasperation with myself and placed my head on the counter. “Does it seem like I know what I mean?”

“Yes.”

I smiled without looking at him. “Stop joking” then raising my head from the counter I sighed and spun my chair around to look at him “but I guess I thought I'd survived because we had fun on our ‘not-so-quite-date’, and compared to the other girls you thought it was worth giving me a chance.” I shrugged. “I don't know.”

“That wasn't the only reason, Aileen.”

“Oh…” still smiling I realized his final lack of lady. “Wait, did...did you just call me Aileen? Just Aileen?”

He smiled back, leaning closer to me. “Maybe I did.”

“Is the missing ‘Lady’ a good thing?” I leaned closer too without realizing it.

“What do you think?”

“Don't know...I never said anything because I know titles become important as a royal. I wanted you to decide when to be informal and what that would mean…”

We’d been slowly inching forward and I finally became aware of how close to his my face was.

“What do you want it to mean?” he stroked my cheek gently once and I stared at it from the corner of my eye before looking back at him. I knew where things were going, and I didn’t want to stop them even though I was unsure of it. 

“I guess it depends on you…”

“I have something for you,” he reached inside his pocket and pulled out the pin I’d self-proclaimed as my honor.  

I stared at him with narrowed eyes, grinning. “Why did you say you didn't have it with you?”

“I didn't want to give it up quite yet”

“You little liar, why not?”

“You're so cute when you're angry.”

I rolled my eyes and chided my impulse to smack him. Then he stuck the pin between his teeth and I snorted with a laugh.

“What are you doing?”

“Guess.”

It was really hard not to laugh. “I don't know, trying to be hot and failing maybe?”

“I feel like I do that all the time.”

I leaned forward. “Well, it might work some day.”

“You think?” we were both grinning.

“You never know what awkward flirt will work, right?” I commented, and this time I leaned forward on my tiptoes, placing my hands on his shoulders for balance.

He laughed. “No.”

I leaned in slowly with a smile, and when I noticed we were on the same page I leaned the rest of the way and bit the other side of the pin, our mouths millimeters apart. I wasn’t sure what the result of this would be, but I wanted to try.

“Maybe I know what my answer to your question is.”

“Do you? Prove it to me.” 

He let go of the pin, and I stopped biting it too, placing it on my dresses’ pocket before fully leaning in to kiss him. It was simple, but nice and Haiden smiled between the small moments our lips parted. It was pleasant, but it felt like that time Josh and I had kissed when we pretended to be a couple. It was good, and I was definitely attracted to him, but I’d known that we would never like each other like that. We only enjoyed it because it was a biological response combined with our small attraction.

However, kisses did have a powerful way of connecting you with someone, and sometimes even confusing you, so I was glad to hear footsteps that made us stop.

Haiden immediately leaned on the counter awkwardly and I looked at him confused. It looked like a really uncomfortable position.The footsteps seemed to be closer though, so I tried to quickly take a sit... but accidentally slipped and fell.

He tried not to laugh as he hissed at me to “act natural” and I scoffed at him from the floor with a glare. The footsteps were around the corner when I quickly crawled to a nearby drawer and pretended to be looking for something inside it.

“Did you find the eggs... Lady Aileen?”

For the love of black licorice, Haiden.

I practically stuffed my head in the drawer trying not to laugh. “Oh, um— no I don't think they're here…”

A random staff from the kitchen appeared and frowned at me as he heard our exchange. “Uhh...what are you doing in her so la—” he stopped when he noticed Haiden. “Oh, your Highness!” He stumbled with a bow. “I was not aware you were here.”

Haiden laughed awkwardly and I found myself recognizing the laugh, expecting him to say something utterly confusing. “Neither were we. I mean we knew we were here, but we didn't know you were... here.”

I mentally facepalmed myself and gave him a ‘what does that even mean’ glance. The poor kitchen staff member seemed even more confused.

“Uh…” he took the chance to grab my hand and I stood up. “Enough baking. Let's go.”

“Right…” Baking. I clenched my jaw trying not to laugh. “What he said.”

“That was close.” Haiden admitted after we were outside the kitchen.

I repeated his words, finally chuckling. “We knew we were here, but we didn't know you were here?”

“Don't judge me! You fell off a chair!” he countered and I gasped.

“You need bigger chairs on the kitchen! Less slippery! Also, you didn't even give me a hint, you just randomly leaned on the counter, not elegantly may I add.”

“I never said I was elegant.”

“You're a prince.”

“That doesn't mean I'm elegant. I'm an actual human disaster.”

“Looking for eggs on a drawer? Yeah, I'd say that's accurate.”

“Rude.”

I smirked and tried to get us back into an important matter. I needed to figure out what relationship we could even have. “For a human disaster you don't kiss that bad though.”

He blushed. “Uh... thanks?”

I smiled, but felt myself blushing a bit too. “That sounded like a question.”

“I'm sorry, I'm being awkward.”

“Oh, that's okay” I scratched the back of my neck feeling shy all of the sudden. “I've heard from a lot of people you are usually very shy, so I'm just happy you feel comfortable enough with me most of the time. I can be a handful.”

“If I can get comfortable enough to kiss you, I feel like I'm more comfortable than I'd like to admit.”

That really made me blush. “Oh...uh, thanks…”

“So, um…”

“I got my honor back” I said, smiling awkwardly as I tried to get our conversation’s pace back.

“Where even is it?” Haiden said amused.

I shoved my hand inside my pocket looking for the pin. Sydney’s suggestion to add pockets to some of my dresses couldn’t have been any better. “I wouldn't dare leave it in the kitchen.” I giggled.

“Nope, but you better be careful with that. I may swipe it.” He grinned and I narrowed my eyes at him before safely placing the pin back in my pocket.

“Yeah, that's not happening.”

He pulled me into his arms and set his hands on my waist. “Definitely not.”

I let out a surprised squeak at the sudden movement but then laughed. “Don't you try and steal it.” I placed my hand on his, making sure he wouldn’t go for the pocket.

“I don't know, I'm an excellent pickpocket.”

“Really? Your talents are quite interesting Haiden.” I leaned close enough to kiss him, but didn’t go the full way.

“Mm, why are you hesitating?”

“Maybe I'm trying to tempt you.” I smiled coyly.

He seemed to follow my game. “I'm not tempted easily.”

“I could also be trying to figure out if you even want to kiss me again.”

“What do you think?”

“It's a complete mystery. You tell me.” That wasn’t entirely a lie. I wanted to see if he would make the first move. I wanted to know if there was something between us, what it could be.

“I…”

And there it was. “Why are you hesitating?” I said, quoting his own words.

“Aileen, I don't want to change anything between us.”

I smiled knowingly, taking a step back. “And that's why I hesitated.”

He seemed flustered. “D-Don't get me wrong, we're still friends and everything, b-but I just...”

“Don't like me like that?” I suggested with a laidback smile, hoping he realized I was fine with it.

“No. I don't think so.”

Neither do I. “I hope it's based on more than just my kissing abilities.” I joked.

He laughed, and I squished his face between my hands. “Partners in crime then?”

“Partners in crime.” He smiled.

I was only glad we sorted it out smoothly, and it didn’t involve any broken hearts or drama. 

“As my survival depends on your future heists...may I make an odd request?” I wondered, averting my gaze, unsure if what I wanted to ask would be crossing a line.

He fidgeted nervously at the idea. “Yeah sure.”

“Could...could I maybe stay a bit longer? If I get sent home my parents will probably ask me to stay here with my uncle and that if Sam is there…” I trailed off. “I just need some time to process it. And I promise I’ll help you out with the other girls! I'll give you pointers if possible.”

“I'm not eliminating you, Aileen. Not yet, I mean. I don't have a lot of friends, and, well, I do think I love you in a way. Like I've said before, I'm a strong believer in different kinds of love, and I think you've kind of filled a place of love in myself.” He paused, thinking about what he’d just said. “That sounds... awkward, sorry.”

It took my brain a few seconds of blinking to process all his words and I was so happy by them I laughed and wrapped him in a hug that might have been a bit too tight. “THAT'S SO CUTE HAIDEN, I LOVE YOU TOO.” I stopped squealing for a second and cleared my throat as a let go of him with a smile. “As a friend of course.”

He laughed at my reaction. “Thank you... I appreciate hearing that.”

“No problem.” I started walking down. “So, on a scale of one to ten how lost are you about who you like between the remaining girls?”

He walked after me. “They're all so nice and pretty and smart. 13 maybe?”

I gave him an amused look of sympathy. “Oh, wow. Very lost.”

“Well, there's 15 girls left and it's only out of 13, so I say it's progress.”

“Haiden, I asked from a scale from one to ten” I laughed. “But yes, taking two girls out of the mix is good.”

“The best part is one of them is you” he said, teasingly.

I shoved him. “Yes, I am aware.” Placing a hand dramatically on my forehead and looking back I added, “such a pity we were not meant to be.”

He continued. “The hard part will be figuring out which one will be my number one.”

“Well, it might get easier once you get to spend more time with each being a smaller group and all.”

“But what if I made a mistake? What if I sent home the wrong the wrong person?”

“Do you really think you could send home the wrong person? Just think of who you would see yourself married with for the rest of your life.” I could see the insecurity in his face. “Of course, that's not easy to picture... but it can be helpful when choosing who needs to leave.”

“I can picture it sometimes, but it seems like everyone would be great as a bride.”

“Well, of course, but would they all be great as yours?”

“Yes? No? I don't know?” He seemed troubled by not knowing.

I smiled once more in an attempt to calm his nerves. “That's okay, you don't need to know this instant. Work at your own pace.”

“That's the thing, if I work at my own pace, it'll take years and no one wants to put up with me for that long.”

I chuckled. “Okay, maybe not that long.”

“Definitely not.”

“Just don't pressure yourself that much either.”

“Impossible.”

“Your father was able to do it, wasn't he?”

“I'm not my father.” He frowned.

“That doesn't mean you won't be able to make it too.” I elbowed him playfully. “Come on, cheer up,” I paused and examined his face again. “What worries you so much?”

“It's... hard to explain.” I waited for him to do so, but he rolled his eyes at me. “I'm not explaining.”

“Why not?” I asked, making puppy eyes.

“It's... personal. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable sharing.”

“Fine, I'll be a good friend and not pry.” I sighed, then looking at him with a furrowed brow I added: “I can't really help you if you never explain though” raising both my hands in a sign of surrender “but I'll trust that you'll tell me when you're ready and that's okay.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

I nodded, and was about to ask him something else when I noticed the tired look on his face. “I guess it's getting kinda late, huh?”

He shrugged and I wondered if the reason I hadn’t noticed he seemed tired earlier was because he didn’t notice it himself. “I guess so.”

“We should probably get some sleep.”

“We?” he said grinning at me.

I elbowed him. Guess we’ll never stop being like this. “I mean like on separate beds you dork.”

He smiled while I shook my head at him. “I know. Good night, Aileen.”

I gave him a quick hug before heading down the hallway to my room. “Good night, Haiden.”

previous | next

[newsnigeria]

Check out New Post published on Ọmọ Oòduà

New Post has been published on http://ooduarere.com/news-from-nigeria/world-news/east-west/

How the East can save the West

This column was written for the Unz Review]

Europe: My honor is solidarity!

“That tells you all you need to know about the difference between modern Britain and the government of Vladimir Putin. They make Novichok, we make light sabers. One a hideous weapon that is specifically intended for assassination. The other an implausible theatrical prop with a mysterious buzz. But which of those two weapons is really more effective in the world of today?”.

(Boris Johnson)

Let’s begin this discussion with a few, basic questions.

Question one: does anybody sincerely believe that “Putin” (the collective name for the Russian Mordor) really attempted to kill a man which “Putin” himself had released in the past, who presented no interest for Russia whatsoever who, like Berezovsky, wanted to return back to Russia, and that to do the deed “Putin” used a binary nerve agent?

Question two: does anybody sincerely believe that the British have presented their “allies” (I will be polite here and use that euphemism) with incontrovertible or, at least, very strong evidence that “Putin” indeed did such a thing?

Question three: does anybody sincerely believe that the mass expulsion of Russian diplomats will somehow make Russia more compliant to western demands (for our purposes, it does not matter what demands we are talking about)?

Question four: does anybody sincerely believe that after this latest episode, the tensions will somehow abate or even diminish and that things will get better?

Question five: does anybody sincerely believe that the current sharp rise in tensions between the AngloZionist Empire (aka the “West”) does not place the Empire and Russia on collision course which could result in war, probably/possibly nuclear war, maybe not deliberately, but as the result of an escalation of incidents?

If in the zombified world of the ideological drones who actually remain in the dull trance induced by the corporate media there are most definitely those who answer “yes” to some or even all of the questions above, I submit that not a single major western decision maker sincerely believes any of that nonsense. In reality, everybody who matters knows that the Russians had nothing to do with the Skripal incident, that the Brits have shown no evidence, that the expulsion of Russian diplomats will only harden the Russian resolve, that all this anti-Russian hysteria will only get worse and that this all puts at least Europe and the USA, if not the entire planet, in great danger.

And yet what just happened is absolutely amazing: instead of using fundamental principles of western law (innocent until proven guilty by at least a preponderance of evidence or even beyond reasonable doubt), basic rules of civilized behavior (do not attack somebody you know is innocent), universally accepted ethical norms (the truth of the matter is more important than political expediency) or even primordial self-preservation instincts (I don’t want to die for your cause), the vast majority of western leaders chose a new decision-making paradigm which can be summarized in two words:

“highly likely”

“solidarity”

This is truly absolutely crucial and marks a fundamental change in the way the AngloZionist Empire will act from now on. Let’s look at the assumptions and implications of these two concepts.

First, “highly likely”. While “highly likely” does sound like a simplified version of “preponderance of evidence” what it really means is something very different and circular: “Putin” is bad, poisoning is bad, therefore it is “highly likely” that “Putin” did it. How do we know that the premise “Putin is bad” is true? Well – he does poison people, does he not?

You think I am joking?

Check out this wonderful chart presented to the public by “Her Majesty’s government” entitled “A long pattern of Russian malign activity”:

In the 12 events listed as evidence of a “pattern of Russian malign activity” one is demonstratively false (2008 invasion of Georgia), one conflates two different accusations (occupation of Crimea and destabilization of the Ukraine), one is circular (assassination of Skripal) and all others are completely unproven accusations. All that is missing here is the mass rape of baby penguins by drunken Russian sailors in the south pole or the use of a secret “weather weapon” to send hurricanes towards the USA. You don’t need a law degree to see that, all you need is an IQ above room temperature and a basic understanding of logic. For all my contempt for western leaders, even I wouldn’t make the claim that they all lack these. So here is where “solidarity” kicks-in:

“Solidarity” in this context is simply a “conceptual placeholder” for Stephen Decatur‘s famous “my country, right or wrong” applied to the entire Empire. The precedent of Meine Ehre heißt Treue just slightly rephrased into Meine Ehre heißt Solidarität also comes to mind.

Solidarity simply means that the comprador ruling elites of the West will say and do whatever the hell the AngloZionist tell them to. If tomorrow the UK or US leaders proclaim that Putin eats babies for breakfast or that the West needs to send a strong message to “Putin” that a Russian invasion of Vanuatu shall not be tolerated, then so be it: the entire AngloZionist nomenklatura will sing the song in full unison and to hell with facts, logic or even decency!

Solemnly proclaiming lies is hardly something new in politics, there is nothing new here. What is new are two far more recent developments: first, now everybody knows that these are lies and, second, nobody challenges or debunks them. Welcome to the AngloZionist New World Order indeed!

The Empire: by way of deception thou shalt do war

Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of your father ye will do. He was a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the truth because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie, he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar and the father of it.

(John 8:44)

Over the past weeks I have observed something which I find quite interesting: both on Russian TV channels and in the English speaking media there is a specific type of anti-Putin individual who actually takes a great deal of pride in the fact that the Empire has embarked on a truly unprecedented campaign of lies against Russia. These people view lies as just another tool in a type of “political toolkit” which can be used like any other political technique. As I have mentioned in the past, the western indifference to the truth is something very ancient coming, as it does, from the Middle-Ages: roughly when the spiritual successors of the Franks in Rome decided that their own, original, brand of “Christianity” had no use for 1000 years of Consensus Patrum. Scholasticism and an insatiable thrust for worldly, secular, power produced both moral relativism and colonialism (with the Pope’s imprimatur in the form of the Treaty of Tordesillas). The Reformation (with its very pronounced Judaic influence) produced the bases of modern capitalism which, as Lenin correctly diagnosed, has imperialism as its highest stage. Now that the West is losing its grip on the planet (imagine that, some SOB nations dare resist!), all of the ideological justifications have been tossed away and we are left with the true, honest, barebones impulses of the leaders of the Empire: messianic hubris (essentially self-worship), violence and, above all, a massive reliance on deception and lies on every single level of society, from the commercial advertisements targeted at children to Colin Powell shaking some laundry detergent at the UNSC to justify yet another war of aggression.

Self-worship and a total reliance on brute force and falsehoods – these are the real “Western values” today. Not the rule of law, not the scientific method, not critical thought, not pluralism and most definitely not freedom. We are back, full circle, to the kind of illiterate thuggery the Franks so perfectly embodied and which made them so infamous in the (then) civilized world (the south and eastern Mediterranean). The agenda, by the way, is also the same one as the Franks had 1000 years ago: either submit to us and accept our dominion, or die, and the way to accept our dominion is to let us plunder all your riches. Again, not much difference here between the sack of the First Rome in 410, the sack of the Second Rome in 1204 and the sack of the Third Rome in 1991. As psychologists well know, the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior.

Interestingly, the Chinese saw straight through this strategic psyop and they are now sounding the alarm in their very official Global Times: (emphasis added)

The accusations that Western countries have hurled at Russia are based on ulterior motives, similar to how the Chinese use the expression “perhaps it’s true” to seize upon the desired opportunity. From a third-person perspective, the principles and diplomatic logic behind such drastic efforts are flawed, not to mention that expelling Russian diplomats almost simultaneously is a crude form of behavior. Such actions make little impact other than increasing hostility and hatred between Russia and their Western counterparts (…) The fact that major Western powers can gang up and “sentence” a foreign country without following the same procedures other countries abide by and according to the basic tenets of international law is chilling. During the Cold War, not one Western nation would have dared to make such a provocation and yet today it is carried out with unrestrained ease. Such actions are nothing more than a form of Western bullying that threatens global peace and justice. (…) It is beyond outrageous how the US and Europe have treated Russia. Their actions represent a frivolity and recklessness that has grown to characterize Western hegemony that only knows how to contaminate international relations. Right now is the perfect time for non-Western nations to strengthen unity and collaborative efforts among one another. These nations need to establish a level of independence outside the reach of Western influence while breaking the chains of monopolization declarations, predetermined adjudications and come to value their own judgment abilities. (…) The West is only a small fraction of the world and is nowhere near the global representative it once thought it was. The silenced minorities within the international community need to realize this and prove just how deep their understanding is of such a realization by proving it to the world through action.

As the French say “à bon entendeur, salut!”: the Chinese position is crystal clear, as is the warning. I would summarize it as so: if the West is an AngloZionist doormat, then the East is most definitely not.

[Sidebar: I know that there are some countries in Europe who have, so far, shown the courage to resist the AngloZionist Diktat. Good for them. I will wait to see how long they can resist the pressure before giving them a standing ovation]

The modern Ahnenerbe Generalplan Ost

The decision, therefore, lies here in the East; here must the Russian enemy, this people numbering two hundred million Russians, be destroyed on the battlefield and person by person, and made to bleed to death

(Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler)

Still, none of that explain why the leaders of the Empire have decided to engage in a desperate game of “nuclear chicken” to try to, yet again, force Russia to comply with its demands to “go away and shut up”. This is counter-intuitive and I get several emails each week telling me that there is absolutely no way the leaders of the AngloZionist Empire would want a war with Russia, especially not a nuclear-armed one. The truth is that while western leaders are most definitely psychopaths, they are neither stupid nor suicidal, but neither were Napoleon or Hitler! And, yes, they probably don’t really want a full-scale war with Russia. The problem is that these rulers are also desperate, and for good cause.

Let’s look at the situation just a few months ago. The US was defeated in Syria, ridiculed in the DPRK, Trump was hated in Europe, the Russians and the Germans were working on North Stream, the British leaders forced to at least pretend to work on Brexit, the entire “Ukrainian” project had faceplanted, the sanctions against Russia had failed, Putin was more popular than ever and the hysterical anti-Trump campaign was still in full swing inside the USA. The next move by the AngloZionist elites was nothing short of brilliant: by organizing a really crude false flag in the UK the Empire achieved the following results:

The Europeans have been forced right back into the Anglosphere’s fold (“solidarity”, remember?)

The Brexiting Brits are now something like the (im-)moral leaders of Europe again.

The Russians are now demonized to such a degree that any accusation, no matter how stupid, will stick.

In the Middle-East, the US and Israel now have free reign to start any war they want because the (purely theoretical) European capability to object to anything the Anglos want has now evaporated, especially now that the Russians have become “known chemical-criminals” from Ghouta to Salisbury

At the very least, the World Cup in Russia will be sabotaged by a massive anti-Russian campaign. If that campaign is really successful, there is still the hope that the Germans will finally cave in and, if maybe not outright cancel, then vat least ery much delay North Stream thereby forcing the Europeans to accept, what else, US gas.

This is an ambitious plan and, barring an unexpected development, it sure looks like it might work. The problem with this strategy is that it falls short of getting Russia to truly “go away and shut up”. Neocons are particularly fond of humiliating their enemies (look at how they are still gunning for Trump even though by now the poor man has become their most subservient servant) and there is a lot of prestige at stake here. Russia, therefore, must be humiliated, trulyhumiliated, not just by sabotaging her participation in Olympic games or by expelling Russian diplomats, but by something far more tangible like, say, an attack on the very small and vulnerable Russian task force in Syria. Herein lies the biggest risk.

The Russian task force in Syria is tiny, at least compared to the immense capabilities of CENTCOM+NATO. The Russians have warned that if they are attacked, they will shoot down not only the attacking missiles but also their launchers. Since the Americans are not dumb enough to expose their aircraft to Russian air defenses, they will use air power only outside the range of Russian air defenses and they will use only cruise missiles to strike targets inside the “protection cone” of the Russians air defenses. The truth is that I doubt that the Russians will have the opportunity to shoot down many US aircraft, at least not with their long-range S-300/S-400 SAMs. Their ubiquitous and formidable combined short to medium range surface-to-air missile and anti-aircraft artillery weapon system, the Pantsir, might have a better chance simply because it’s location is impossible to predict. But the real question is this: will the Russians shoot back at the USN ships if they launch cruise missiles at Syria?

My strictly personal guess is that they won’t unless Khmeimim, Tartus or another large Russian objective (official Russian compounds in Damascus) are hit. Striking a USN ship would be tantamount to an act of war and that is just not something the Russians will do if they can avoid it. The problem with that is this restraint will, yet again, be interpreted as a sign of weakness, not civilization, by the “modern Franks” (visualize a Neanderthal with a nuclear club in his fist). Should the Russians decide to act à la American and use violence to “send a message”, the Empire will immediately perceive that as a loss of face and a reason to immediately escalate further to reestablish the “appropriate” hierarchy between the “indispensable nation” and the “gas station masquerading as a country”. So here is the dynamic at work

Russia limits herself to words of protests ==>> the Empire sees that as a sign of weakness and escalates Russia responds in kind with real actions ==>> The Empire feels humiliated and escalates

Now look at this from a Russian point of view for a second and ask yourself what you would do in this situation?

The answer, I think, is obvious: you try to win as much time as possible and you prepare for war. The Russians have been doing exactly that since at least early 2015.

For Russia this is really nothing new: been there, done that, and remember it very, very well, by the way. The “western project” for Russia has always been the same since the Middle-Ages, the only difference today is the consequences of war. With each passing century the human cost of the various western crusades against Russia got worse and worse and now we are not only looking at the very real possibility of another Borodino or Kursk, and not even at another Hiroshima, but at something which we can’t even really imagine: hundreds of millions of people die in the course of just a few hours.

How do we stop that?

Is the West even capable of acting in a different way?

I very much doubt it.

The one actor who can stop the upcoming war: China

There is one actor which might, maybe, stop the current skidding towards Armageddon: China. Right now, the Chinese have officially declared that they have what they call a “comprehensive strategic partnership of cooperation” later shortened to “strategic partnership”. This is a very apt expression as it does not speak of an “alliance”: two countries of the size of Russia and China cannot have an alliance in the traditional sense – they are too big and different for that. They are, however, in a symbiotic relationship, that both sides understand perfectly (see this White Paper for details). What this means in very simple terms is this: the Chinese cannot let Russia be defeated by the Empire because once Russia is gone, they will be left one on one with a united, triumphal and infinitely arrogant West (likewise I would argue that Russia cannot afford to have Iran defeated by the Empire for exactly the same reasons, and neither can Iran let the Israelis destroy Hezbollah). Of course, in terms of military power, China is a dwarf compared to Russia, but in terms of economic power Russia is the dwarf when compared to China in this “strategic community of interests”. Thus, China cannot assist Russia militarily. But remember that Russia does not need this if only because military assistance is what you need to win a war. Russia does not want to win a war, Russia desperately needs to avoid a war! And here is where China can make a huge difference: psychologically.

Yes, the Empire is currently taking on both Russia and China, but everybody, from its leaders to its zombified population, seems to think that these are two, different and separate foes. [We can use this opportunity to most sincerely thank Donald Trump for so “perfectly” timing his trade war with China.] They are not: not only are Russia and China symbionts who share the same vision of a prosperous and peaceful Eurasia united by a common future centered around the OBOR and, crucially, free from the US dollar or, for that matter, from any type of major US role, but Russia and China also stand for exactly the same notion of a post-hegemonic world order: a multi-polar world of different and truly sovereign nations living together under the rules of international law. If the AngloZionists have their way, this will never happen. Instead, we will have the New World Order promised by Bush, dominated by the Anglosphere countries (basically the ECHELON members, aka the “Five Eyes”) and, on top of that pyramid, the global Zionist overlord. This is something China cannot, and will not allow. Neither can China allow a US-Russian war, especially not a nuclear one because China, like Russia, also needs peace.

Conclusion

I don’t see what Russia could do to convince the Empire to change its current course: the US leaders are delusional and the Europeans are their silent, submissive servants. As shown above, whatever Russia does it always invites further escalation from the Empire. Of course, Russia can turn the West into a pile of smoldering radioactive ashes. This is hardly a solution since, in the inevitable exchange, Russia herself will also be turned into a similar pile of smoldering radioactive ashes by the Empire. In spite of that, the Russian people have most clearly indicated by their recent vote that they have absolutely no intention of caving in to the latest western crusade against them. As for the Empire, it will never accept the fact that Russia refuses to submit. It therefore seems to me that the only thing which can stop Armageddon would be for the Chinese to ceaselessly continue to repeat to the rulers of the Empire and the people of the West what the wrote in the article quoted above: that “The West is only a small fraction of the world and is nowhere near the global representative it once thought it was” and “the silenced minorities within the international community need to realize this and prove just how deep their understanding is of such a realization by proving it to the world through action.”

History teaches us that the West only strikes against those opponents it sees as defenseless or, at least, weaker. The fact that the Popes, Napoleon or Hitler were wrong in their evaluation of the strength of Russia does not change this truism. In fact, the Neocons today are making exactly the same mistake. So telling them about the fact that Russia is much stronger than what the western propaganda says and which, apparently, many western rulers believe (you always end up believing your own propaganda), does not help. Russian “reminders of reality” will do no good simply because the West is out of touch with reality and lacks the ability to understand its own limitations and weaknesses. But if China stepped in and conveyed that crucial message “The West is only a small fraction of the world” and that the rest of the world will prove this “through action” then other countries will step in and a war can be averted because even the current delusion-based “solidarity” will collapse in the face of a united Eurasia.

Russia alone cannot continue to carry the burden of stopping the messianic psychopaths ruling the Empire.

The rest of the world, led by China, now needs to step in to avert the war.

The Saker

[associatevidiot]

Things I, a Moderate Liberal, Actually Like Quite a Lot About America

Hello! Moderate liberal here. I happened upon this post detailing a list of things that I, a liberal, supposedly hate about America. So I thought I’d quickly run down it, point by point, to see how it checked out. 

1. The U.S. Constitution I love the U.S. Constitution so, so much. The First Amendment in particular. I love the Constitution so much that I even respect the parts that make very little sense to me. (The Second Amendment could, at the very least, have used a decent copy editor. So much confusion just from a couple of awkwardly placed commas.)

2. Liberty Love it! 

3. Freedom Same thing as liberty, but hey, I also love it!

4. Success I have no problem with success! Success is great! I wish success for all who strive for it. Now, conflating success with virtue -- saying that you must be a good person just because you succeeded, or a bad person because you didn’t? Not a fan of that.

5. Big Trucks Eh. I don’t see the point of them unless you need one for your job, in which case I’m all for big trucks. But I don’t hate them so much as roll my eyes at them. Also, I think we can all agree that monster trucks are awesome, and the world is a better place for having them.

6. Capitalism It’s got its downsides in its rawest, least fettered form, but it’s also been responsible for unleashing unprecedented human prosperity, and lifting millions out of poverty. And it’s way, way better than, say, the idiocy that is Communism. Capitalism, like pro sports, simply needs good referees.

7. Free Markets I love free markets! I’d like to see more of them. Free markets in health care. Free markets in broadband. Free markets everywhere, without regulations designed to protect established incumbents at the expense of scrappy up-and-comers. I’d like to see free markets filled with companies that work hard every day to do right both by their employees and their customers, lest a competitor swoop in and outperform them.

8. Wealthy People I like wealthy people! Good for them! I don’t begrudge anyone the ability to live in comfort. And, hey, if they’ve got a little money left over to reinvest in the country that helped them become wealthy, that’s great, too!

9. Economic Prosperity You caught me. I actually favor grinding poverty and misery for all! Ha. No. I love economic prosperity. I’d like more of it for myself and, well, for everyone. Which is why I favor things like single-payer health care and investments in education and infrastructure to help said economy prosper.

10. The Rule of Law I love the rule of law! I love the way it protects the powerless from the powerful. I love the way it allows appellate courts to overrule bad laws made by bad or misguided people! I’d like to see the rule of law applied equally to every citizen of our great nation.

11. Traditional Values As a married guy and a father, I have to say, I love devoting my life to the woman I adore with all my heart, and working with her to raise our children to be kind, thoughtful, polite, compassionate, inventive, thrifty, and hard-working.

12. The American Flag Love it. The stars. The stripes. The color scheme. The swell of pride and awe at the thought of all the sacrifices made and all the greatness achieved and all the hope inspired by that banner. 

13. The Founding Fathers They certainly weren’t perfect. But they gave us the Constitution, which was pretty amazing. Also, Ben Franklin alone is impossible not to love. Dude took air baths in the nude and slept his way through the wives of the French aristocracy, AND invented bifocals. 

14. Guns As a fan of firearm-intensive cinema from John Woo to John Wick, I can confidently say that guns are freaking awesome. In real life, I prefer my guns in the hands of people who’ve been thoroughly trained in how to use them in defense of others, and not, say, indiscriminately placed in the hands of troubled people who might shoot up a movie theater or an elementary school or their families or themselves.

15. Limited Government Depends on your definition of “limited,” but I can certainly see places where too much government is both possible and undesirable. Next!

16. Religious Freedom A Mormon acquaintance of mine recently posted about how her stake had opened their place of worship to Muslims who needed a place to pray because someone who didn’t like religious freedom had burned down their mosque. That story choked me up. I love religious freedom, and the moment someone proposes a law to dictate what you can and can’t say or do in church, I’ll be right there to oppose it.

17. Homeschooling Eh. Doesn’t seem necessary to me, but hey, it’s a free country. 

18. Private Schools See No. 17.

19. Christian Schools See No. 17. Plus, if your faith is so strong that you need to shield it from the outside world wherever possible, maybe your faith is not that strong?

20. Entrepreneurs Steve Jobs, whatever his failings, is a hero of mine. Ditto Jim Sinegal, founder of Costco, and Warren Buffett, head of Berkshire Hathaway. I love people who take risks, start businesses, and create jobs. 

21. Ronald Reagan Ronald Reagan is, alas, kind of a dirtbag. The Screen Actors Guild elected him to lead them, and he promptly sold them out to get a sweetheart deal for himself. Then he spent the Blacklist era casually tossing his professional rivals to the Congressional wolves to further his own career. That said, he had the guts to advocate for reasonable gun control after being shot, and he really got the danger of nuclear war and worked hard to prevent it. For that especially, I’ll always be grateful to him.

22. Donald Trump Guilty as charged. Mostly because Trump has a demonstrated history of treating other people horribly. But you can’t get that messed up without a really awful childhood, so deep down, I just sort of feel sorry for him. He doesn’t seem like a truly happy person. I wonder if he ever got down on the floor and played with any of his kids when they were little. I really hope he did.

23. Mike Pence Guilty as charged, but again, mostly because Pence has a documented history of not taking good care of the people he was elected to serve. But that said, I hope Mike Pence lives a long, happy, and prosperous life! I just hope he does so far from any position of political power.

24. Country Music Johnny Cash is a freaking genius. June Carter Cash is amazing. Patsy Cline is gorgeous. Darius Rucker has an amazing voice. Garth Brooks’ “We Shall Be Free” gives me a lump in my throat every. Dang. Time. Hank Williams was awesome. I could go on.

25. Rush Limbaugh That poor, sad man.

26. The Tea Party I may disagree with them, but hey, good on them for engaging in democracy! That’s the way to do it.

27. Lower Taxes I would love lower taxes. I just don’t want anyone else to suffer so that I can have more money.

28. Old-Fashioned Light Bulbs Actually, yeah, I do hate these! Why would anyone want to waste money on something designed to break way, way sooner than it needs to?

29. Jesus The idea that one man would lay down his life to redeem the sins of all mankind awes me to my core, and inspires me to try to lead a more Christlike life myself. I wish everyone acted more like Jesus!

30. The Bible There’s some pretty good stuff in there! Definitely don’t hate it.

31. The Christian Faith I was married in a Baptist church by a Methodist minister who is, no foolin’, one of the best people I know. Christians can be really great people, and any faith that inspires them to be that way is A-OK in my book.

32. The Drudge Report Well, OK, I’m not a fan, but I also roll my eyes at the Huffington Post, so...

33. John Wayne I can’t recall a more thrilling introduction to a character than the way the camera swoops across the landscape to reveal young John Wayne in “Stagecoach.” And “The Searchers” is just fantastic. Like Vin Diesel, Wayne simultaneously manages to be a kind of bad actor and a really good actor, and I love him for that.

34. Alex Jones ... Yeah, guilty as charged. Mostly because he claims murdered kids were fake actors. That’s not cool, man! I know you’re a red-faced amalgam of beef sweats and conspiracy theories, but have a little decency.

35. NASCAR ... They just go around in a circle! Over and over and over! 

36. Tupperware Why would anyone hate Tupperware? It’s great!

37. Big Cheeseburgers I will fistfight anyone who maligns big cheeseburgers. They’re one of my favorite food groups.

38. Football Three words: “Friday Night Lights.” So good.

39. Clint Eastwood If for nothing else, I’d love Clint Eastwood for “Unforgiven.”

40. The Army

41. The Navy

42. The Marines

43. The Air Force I’m the very proud son, brother, and grandson of Air Force vets. My grandfathers flew with bomber crews in WWII and Korea. My dad was a fighter pilot for 30 years. I grew up on Air Force bases with the Sound of Freedom overhead. If you say I hate the Air Force, you and I are going to have words. I love the other branches of the service only slightly less. (: Also, does this mean liberals love the Coast Guard? Because those guys are great.

44. Ron Paul Eh. I don’t think he means any harm.

45. Rand Paul Even a stopped clock is right twice a day, especially about government overreach in regard to the surveillance state.

46. Marriage

47. Family

48. Babies For the above three, please see answer 11. Also, don’t these kind of overlap with “traditional values”?

49. Wal-Mart Every Wal-Mart cashier I’ve ever spoken to has a story that will break your heart. Every single one. Every time. 

50. Flag Pins I have no problem with wearing the flag, as long as you act in ways that honor it.

51. Steakhouses For my bachelor party, I went to a steakhouse and ate a tomahawk ribeye the size of my head. Don’t you dare tell me I hate steakhouses. I’m from Texas. Them’s fightin’ words.

52. Chuck Norris Seems OK to me.

53. Bottled Water  I drink it all the time!

54. George Washington Owning slaves is about the only blemish I can think of for this otherwise sterling example of humanity. And he was at least less of a jerk about that than most people at the time. On the whole, Washington was a great man who truly loved his country and did right by it.

55. The 1st Amendment

56. The 2nd Amendment

57. The 10th Amendment We have already established that I love the Constitution. All of it. Even the parts I disagree with.

58. The Pledge of Allegiance Eh. It’s kinda silly when you learn the history behind it, but it does no harm, and I like the idea of having shared cultural touchstones that unite us as Americans.

59. McDonald’s I applaud their clean restrooms and tasty smoothies.

60. Coca-Cola Not my favorite, but I don’t hate it.

61. Fried Food Fried okra is perhaps the best possible form of any vegetable.

62. Muscle Cars I’ve seen all but one of the “Fast & Furious” movies. Muscle cars are awesome.

63. Charlie Daniels I would prefer not to live in a world that didn’t have “The Devil Went Down to Georgia.” Come on, that song is great.

64. Dolly Parton Who hates Dolly Parton? Who could possibly hate Dolly Parton? She’s great.

65. Duck Dynasty Eh. Kinda dumb idea for the TV show, but hey, good on those folks for starting a successful business and enjoying its benefits.

66. Johnny Cash We have previously discussed this. 

67. Sarah Palin I’m very happy that Sarah Palin can live her life in freedom and ease, far from the levers of power. I wish her and her family nothing but the best.

68. Cheesesteaks Again, who could possibly hate cheesesteaks? They have meat! And cheese! And bread! 

69. Sean Hannity ... yeah, guilty as charged.

70. Rodeos They’re pretty fun! And man, it takes a LOT of skill and hard work to be good enough to compete in one.

71. Cadillacs What am I supposed to hate?

72. Barbie Dolls Shrug. 

73. Ted Cruz ... Okay, for real now, does anyone like Ted Cruz? I mean, John Boehner called him “Lucifer in the flesh.”

74. Fiscal Sanity I love fiscal sanity so much. I’d like to see more of it. I try to practice it in my own life and budget.

75. Charlton Heston Ben-Hur and Touch of Evil exist. Your argument that I hate Charlton Heston is invalid.

76. Israel I’m of Jewish descent, and I’ve seen pictures of Dachau just after it was liberated. Nope. Don’t hate Israel.

77. Benjamin Netanyahu Don’t hate the guy, but fine, I dislike him -- mostly because I think he’s bad for Israel.

78. Miners Brave, hardworking folks doing an awful job to dig up stuff we need? Good on them.

79. Loggers As long as they plant more trees than they cut down, we’re cool. People need wood. I get it.

80. The Coal Industry The folks who dig coal out of the ground? Nope. The folks who profit off their misery while cutting corners on their safety? Kinda, yeah.

81. National Sovereignty In order to hate this, I would have to fully understand what it implies.

82. National Borders Well, I mean, I’m not dying to return to the age of the supercontinent Pangea, so no, I don’t hate borders.

83. Uncle Sam Love him.

84. The Washington Redskins The name, yes. The actual players, no. Lotta Redskins fans among my in-laws. I respect that!

85. Small Businesses Love ‘em. Want to do more to help them thrive.

86. Self-Employment My brother’s self-employed. I love my brother. Ergo, I love self-employment.

87. Harley-Davidson Motorcycles They’re pretty cool. And made in the USA. Don’t hate ‘em.

88. Military Veterans Please see 43 above,

89. The Phrase “Islamic Terror” Well, yes, but only because it makes life more dangerous for the soldiers trying to protect us from radical Islamists like ISIS.

90. Big Families Eh, it’s a free country. They can do what they like!

91. The Bible Belt Is this even a thing anymore? Whatever. Don’t hate it. Free country.

92. The Creation Museum Mostly I just think this is kinda dumb. But then, I think ignoring science gives God and his majesty short shrift.

93. The 10 Commandments I love ‘em! Especially “thou shalt not kill” and “thou shalt not bear false witness.” 

94. Anyone That Is Pro-Life I have dear family friends who are pro-life. They adopted two kids and gave them a fantastic, loving home, and they volunteer to help give other babies that same chance. I couldn’t be prouder of them.

95. Anyone Who Disagrees With Them See above. Also, I’ve had some great discussions with people who disagree with me on Facebook. If you really listen to people without trying to judge them or change their minds, you can learn a lot!

96. Hard Work It’s not, you know, always fun, but it’s definitely a good thing!

97. Patriotism I refer you to the Sound of Freedom above.

98. Winning I like winning! It’s fun! I just think when winning becomes your highest goal, you’ve lost sight of more important things.

99. The Truth I went to journalism school. The truth is my religion. 

100. The American People How could I hate myself? I’m an American person, too! In fact, last I checked, 53% of the American people either were liberals or were willing to vote for one to be President. We are large. We contain multitudes. And that’s beautiful.

[oudbrewlord]

Badjoke saga [Bastion] So you think I am fragile? go ahead and break that thin layer of glass and see what gets release from the looking glass. You have no idea what is yet to come. So am I fragile? So you assume I am fragile? Go ahead and smash Crystal shell of Beauty and wonder. You'er almost there but yet far away. You almost can see a shadow of what is with in. So am I fragile? Do you dare to go on with your Pursuit of Breaking Me down? So you are confident I am fragile? Go ahead and chip away the layers taking what you want. Leaving me nothing in return. Keep on going you are almost there. You are too greedy to notice what you have done to me. You only care about yourself. ______ I have awoken from my sleep and you have free me. My cup of kindness it's empty. Time to pay your debt I am Bastion, so am I fragile? Your tools useless, You won't break me anymore. I have love ones to protect and you are a threat I must eliminate. You're the one who fragile, Cold unblinking eyes look apon you Scanning I plainly see all your flaws That you tnought you seen in me. I used to ignore it However no more. So are you fragile? You're so pathetic You play the victim game very well. However you're far from innocent. You smother the truth with your lies Blaming the others your misdeeds. So am I lying? You're so deceptive You manipulate and bride others around you. You play on their heart strings like it is a game. So are am I the monster? You made you to be this way. Take responsibility for actions And give the Emperor his due You're such a hypocrite, You do and say one thing Your other actions is something else entirely. It okay you to do it to others. However others can't do the same. So am I a demon? I became what you made me out to be. I able to live with the consequences of my actions. Unfortunately you can't do the same. I want to thank you. You liberalate me From my prison You cut the the tides that bind That was between us With the filp I become Bash You become my target With everyone of your infraction Cauterized on my skin. The wounds still smoking from the Hot poker you use to leave your mark. Are you happy now, I became What you made me into. Transform by your intentions against me and mine. Project back your own refinded bile. That was processed into harsh corrosive acid. I reject your stock delusion reality, and hit you with reality of the situation. You illusion of safety and safe spaces will be broken. Time to pay what you owe, and the Ifrit will get his due. Are the same as the others you gripe and complain about. Stop playing the role of the victim and stand on your own two feet. There's nothing innocent about you. You condemned Yourself by your own actions. It is funny how pathetic you are, however the only joke being told is you. [Bash Rampage] I am tired of all the fake motherfuckers, who smile in my face as they push the knife deep in my heart. Now I am just jaded as fuck, shooting more birds then skeet competition during duck hunting season. Embracing my Ifrit on a Rampage roasting motherfuckers in my wake. Randoms ask why you look so angry. Excuse me? Is not polite the point of someone's condition. I suffer from chronic resting bitch face. It is permanent thanks you motherfuckers like you. So fire off my Canon to their face and keep it moving. On my Journey channeling the zen of anger rage and frustration. On my path everyone else's destruction pointing out their indiscretions. Making more motherfuckers heads drop. given them Forest Whitaker eye to the mere mention of my name. Everyover get a dose of reality like Oprah giving out free shit. They keep pointing the bear and bull while try to find a piece of mine with a repetitive tasks. Jumping to conclusions ask everyone else "what he doing?". They done even have the huevos to come and more like to rotten grapes. Smelling worse smelling worse then South Street Seaport in the 90s. That how I see them a pile of infested rotten meat candy-coated skin. You can't even call them people, more like zombies being led by tiny glowing screens. Before I rage out and become beast within I see every day in the mirror of Truth. Of the monster they me into. I grabbed the wife gripping her tightly with my Knuckles turning pale. I take a deep long inhale moments later exhale a big fuck you cloud of vapor. The cloud reeking in a butterscotch popcorn. I took few more rips of that nature at between 6 - 12mg nic. Afterwards reach for my canteen and then guzzle down the contents. Pack my shit and get away from the fuckery going back to my designated Zone. Away from the stock delusion reality of the public eye. I am a wall of Spears with first-strike capability, that can stop swooping birds of prey with reach capabilities. A cold a calculating error that broke the cast on the manufacturing date the eyes t Of March 81 Edition 1 of 1. If come to me with lies and deceit be prepared to be Burn by your own misdeeds. I give back a refined version of your toxins 9000 times potent. If come to me with truth and honesty you find Safe Haven behind my Walls. I am Bash the Ronin Savage! Welcomed to my Matrix. I hope you enjoyed your stay. [Bastion's goodbye] Hm, I got what was owned to me. However I know your type. You have lear your lesson yet. Worry not, I will teach you. There is some things I can't let slide. You have no honor, no morality, and your code of conduct is not suitable for any society. You can't do as you wish and not pay for the consequences of your actions. You can't complain about what someone doing something to you. When you are doing the same thing to another. If you don't get your way, you have a fit like a toddler. You don't like criticism, according to your own words. No one's above criticism. You don't want to hear the truth, or people pointing out what you did wrong. You have no concept of other people's boundaries, but you expect others the take yours into consideration. You can't consume and use up everything you get your grubby little hands on. Without replacing what you use. Justing throw money at the situation and think it will solve the problem. No it won't, it just pisses people off. When you get paid you paint the town red, treating people who don't give two tails about you without paying your debts. To people who have your back and was kind enough to help you in you dire situation. You have the nerve to ask for more and more. When a person says no, you look like a sad puppy dog. How pathetic. You want people to consider your feelings, and keep promises to you. Also you want others be a hold of a higher standard. However you cannot do the same. I suppose you just lacking in that department and deficient in it human decency after all. You pretend like you don't have common sense, selective hearing. Someone tells you pacifically don't do something. You do it anyway. You act all Dazed and confused to weasel out of it. You put others in danger when you're around them, and bring heat to the place you lay your head at. Ultra deals with out the consent of the lease holder. Take more Liberties then a little bit. Dealing with you was an exercise in futility, and stress levels through the roof. You're a liar, a thief plague we excuse this. Hm, I would say more but I think I covered all my bases. To The Testament of your character and an equivalent to it is vile writing maggot infested tainted fecal matter talking meat. With a candy coating, with a neon green toxic hair. You are unworthy to have a place in my heart. I sufficiently braided enough rope, with your intentions and Deeds against me and my house. I wonder how you fare against the scales. I'm willing to bet your LED weighted heart it's heavier then a feather. I cast you out and leave you to wander in the wilderness caring your own burden of guilt. One last thing, I thank you for the memories and I forgive you badjoke. I hope you can forgive yourself one day. I don't need help rebuilding the bridge between us you effectively reduced to cinders on your way out. By: The host: JFJ https://www.facebook.com/PBWHIWC/