#no one let her meet any other british people we just hacked masking

[cruelsister-moved2]

still alive💜 did my fail untagged queue make u not even notice I was gone... ngl being off tumblr for the last week made me feel very relaxed and i hate how being Online makes me feel on a brain chemistry level but on a higher more cerebral level i get genuine happiness from hanging out w the gay ppl on my phone and the films and books and music from all over the world I get to learn about on here... cant we all go back to the days of forums i hate you scrolling I hate you notifications 😭😭 or can they invent a bex that can do moderation... I want to just use tumblr less but I only seem capable of everything or nothing-_-

[whatifwekilledgodandwebothgirls]

Memories

Loki x greek god! Stark! reader

Summary: the reader is Tonys little sister and has been having a lot of strange breams latly . During Avengers assemble loki realises that she is the spirit of a greek god who's taking over her and kidnaps her...

Part : 1

Author's note : I've been thinking about this for a while and i wanted to write it. It's pretty messed up and my grammar and spelling sucks. Also this is my first fanfic but i've been told i write pretty well so it might be good. I really hope you like it!!!!!

Warning : curses. Violence maybe ?

You were sitting in a chair in the middle of a room full of screens at the top of the Stark tower. A pair of expensive gaming headphones were hanging from your neck and your fingers wer running through your y/h/c hair.

"Y/N" Tony yelled loud enough so you could hear him even if you didn't have your headphones on. "Yep " you said bringing them to your ears "I've been screaming for half an hour what were you doing?" He said furiously."Sorry"you said while rolling your eyes " Couldn't hear ya ". He sighed and answered in a sassy tone " that's what you get when you use the same equipment to play Minecraft and talk to the fucking iron man" . You giggle turning on your computer .

The screen showed tony , flying above a mansion in Germany in his suit ,which you had helped build ,his vitals and what he could see. You pressed some bottons and the jet in which black widow has on appeared in the screen in front of you . "Ok jerk you ready ?" You asked .He cleand his throat wispering "go". You typed something and hacked into the jets megaphones."hey agent Romanoff .Did you miss me ?" Normally you would be thrilled by those lines and the song you played next but you were . You didn't even notice captien America nor the terrified people nor your brother being a badass . You only had eyes for the tall handsome man fighting i the middle of the square.You sweared you had seen him before. You were completely lost in your thoughts about loki when you heared your brother calling you once again "Y/N! Meet me at the helicarrier with Coulson. You can get there by your self right?" " Yeah ,yeah i'll be there" you said eyes still locked at the gorgeous god's face , who was now carried to the jet by Steve

"so who's that point break guy?" You asked taking another look at a video of Thor's and tony's fight that the jet had taken ." Point break? Realy y/n ? What a silly nickname" said tony annoyed. You look towards him with murder in your eyes.Thing that was totally normal 'cuse you were siblings and insulated each other every 5 seconds ."What about greasy boy over there..." You pointed a picture of loki trying your best to hide your dreamy smile. You just thought he's hot and that's all . Although you could help but imagine yourself in his arms placing soft kisses at his long raiven hair .And tony knew."What about him ?" Said Coulson completely unaware about your small crush to a mass murderer."I don't know ... He remains my of someone." You said still staring at his picture" like i swa him in a dream or something". "Y/n !!! No one cares about your fantasies" Tony laughed "NOT LIKE THAT !! " You tried to explain yourself .

Actually the dreams started quite a while ago. You dreamt about various things but always with one thing in common. A beautiful balcony with girl sitting at it . It was really blurry every time and you couldn't see much details but the sunset behind the girl was truly breath taking. The sky was painted in the most beautiful shades of orange and red. The sun almost swallowed by the maintains making a small vail of gold light cover everything . It was marvelous.

"Y/n ? Y/N!!!" said tony dragging you out of your day dream. He rolled his eyes and turned to face tye agent."So while my sister is searching for Loki x reader fanfics on Tumblr could we talk about integrate Reindeer games.?""Fury is already on it..."Coulson started saying before you interapted him "Hey what about me ?" Tony looked at you unable to believe that that stubborn childish girl that he was staring at smarter than him

" No. No way. You are not getting involved in this" "Tony i'm not 10 any more you can't tell me what to do!!" You snapped .This had been going on since mom and dad died.He always act like you were going to break if he let you out of his sight for one second . He still let you work with him tho. Going on mission with you behind his ear ,telling him what to do ,made him feel safe. Maybe you should get involved with this? . After a lot of thinking he said "Fine.But you won't anything to dangerous or stupid 'cuse if you do..."he stopped for a dramatic pause " i will burn your panic!at the disco albums" You giggle and left the room

You were walking down a corridor reading a file with everything there was to know about loki. You were assigned to watch over the mischievous god by a agent called Maria Hill . You were pretty sure Tony made her do it to tease you. You entered the room you were supposed to spend your entire day in baby sitting a crazy ass criminal. Not that you had a problem with it but you would rather meet be next to your brother doing science .You sat in the chair in front of you still looking at the file and didn't notice the tall man who was standing in the middle of the room.

"Tell me, what is an angel like you doing gaurding a monster like me?" He asked in that hot , British accent ." Who said i'm an angel " you said trying to sound cool . You looked at him with discuss and added "I'm definitely not worse than you but i don't think anyone is " . He didn't bought it. He could see right through your mask and took advantage of it . "You definitely look like one. But again 'angel' is an small world to discribe such beauty" he said and took a step closer to the glass that was separating you two. His eyes scanned your body as his eyes filled with lust. The way he looks at you send sivers down your spine and your cheeks turned red. He loved that . How you turned for a confident agent ready to kick every ones ass to a blushing girl who craved compliments and affection so much she would except them from a murderer.

His eyes wondered your face before stopping at your y/e/c eyes. His look softened a bit and his lip formed a small smile. " What you name ,love" he asked softly." Y/n" you said before thinking it was a bad idea."Y/n Stark". He quickly took a few steps back with out breaking eye contact.Only now he has looking at you with fear. You wondered what you could have done to scare a god. His expression sifted from terrified to worried , paniced and then just curious."Stark?As in Tony Stark ? The man of iron." He said with a creepy smile forming at hid face. The smile of a mad man. "Oh , i've got grate plans for you , love" he whispered .

Thankfully you heard someone calling you . If they hadn't you would most definitely start cursing."thank god" you said to yourself and yelled " I'm coming". You rushed down the room to find yourself standing next to a red haired agent. " Hill wants you at doctor Banner's lad right now she says it's important, i'll take care of the prisoner" she said quickly . She seemed to be in a hurry. " Yeah be clearful with that guy. He's kinda creepy." You told her while mentally slapping yourself from being an award in front of Black widow. "Noted" she said and turned around running . You looked behind you to the door that lead to the glass shell ." Wait ain't you supposed to go that way ?" You asked but she was already gone

Was it her ? Was it really her? Loki tought . Before he came to earth thanos had warned him about a girl named Y/n Stark. A girl that possessed the power to distroy thousands of planets . He said she was the spirit of greek goddess Artemis who died in a battle. When goods die the are sometimes reborn in bodies of humans and their spirit takes over their bodies at young ages. But now he had seen you he didn't believed that . You were so innocent and kind . You were happy , had a healthy relationship with your brother and surly didn't act like a ancient being that had lived hundred years in the woods. But that all didn't matter now . He had already dicided what to do with you . You would die if you stayed at earth and the titan would kill you if he took you to him so there was only one option left ... He's thoughts were interapted by a loud explosion

The corridors were silent and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your steps. Having given up on trying to find the lab by yourself at this huge ship you turned around , desperate to find someone to ask for instructions. Suddenly you a loud explosion echoed through the walls of the hellicarrier and panic started taking over you . Without even realising realising two men slipped behind you and attacked you. You screamed for help but it was worthless because of their hand that were covering your mouth. " TONY!!" You managed to cry out. One of the men punched you in the face causing you to black out. As everything went dark around you , you heard someone's laughter.

" So... It's ironic isn't it . How the tables have turned." A familiar voice said. You slowly opened your eyes ,which only made your headache worse since you couldn't see clearly. The only thing you managed to see was a tall figure facing you . When your vision cleared you realised who it was.Cold metal was touching your skin keeping your hands behind your back . The handcuffs were heavy but not very tight. You pulled your left hand trying to escape but the god's words stopped you "Don't even dream about it pet . The hole place is surrounded you aren't going anywhere"." My brother will come for me ..." You told him. "Yeah of course!" He laughed " Those fools don't even know from were the battle will start how do the hope to win it ?" . " I'll start from New York" you told him.He opened his mouth trying to say something but he closed it unsure what to do. "It won't" he finally said. You rolled your eyes saying "Yes it will. I always will . Every time someone wants to take over the world... They start from New York. You think you are some kind of super cool villan , your not !!! Ya just basic." He was left speachless from your nerv and courage.You seemed like such a good girl back at the helicarrier. But what an insult tho . " I like you" he wispered while ordering the guards to take you out of your sell.

You slapped one of them in his arm when he tried to pick you up telling him a quick"Hands of" .With hands now released you thought about escaping but a gun at your head made you forget about that.You walked down the hall to were the men led you . You soon realised what was that in front of you. The tesseract in some kind of machine. Loki was going to take you back to Asguared"That your plan huh? After you destroy earth you'll go back to where ever the hell you came from and take me as your little slave. Your pet ? " You hissed. " Don't speak" he said and pushed some buttons. You thought about your brother how many times you saved him. How he'd be helpless without you especially now that there was a war coming. Even tho you didn't admitted it to yourself you would be the helpless one. God you would miss him . Him, your friends , Pepper , everyone . A tear fell down your cheek." YOU CAN'T DO THIS" you screamed "PLEASE , I HAVE FRIENDS HERE PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU". Suddenly a bright light appeared around you and everything disappeared .

Felling something snatching you for the gound and throwing you in the air was not a good feeling . Combined with the heaviness at your chest from crying and sadness it made you want to vomit .You cosed your eyes and screamed holding the closest thing near you which ,fortunately or unfortunately was loki's chest. He protectively brought you closer to him making sure you were comfortable. Normally you would think that's very sweet and that he is a true gentleman but you after imprisoning you and killing all those people ( thing that you actually didn't give a damn for) the only thing you felt for him was hate . As soon as you felt soild ground underneath you ,you pushed him away and slowly opened your eyes.

The first thing you noticed was that you handcuffs were gone .You were in a dark alley and it was pretty late. " Walk slowly like nothing happened" the trickster told you. He led you to a large building and after exchanging a few words with a guy with a gold armour he took you inside. You walked besides him with tears in your y/e/c eyes . He saw that and frowned " I don't understand. Isn't this what you wanted? Haven't you've always felt out of place on midgaurd like you didn't belong there "he asked and he was right. You never exactly fit in back at home but sure as hell you wouldn't abandon everyone 'cuse of it . How the fuck did he knew that anyway? After a while you stoped outside a bedroom door.He opened it and pushed you inside.

" you can't do this" you hissed " Oh please you should thank me . I could have thrown you in the dungeon or worse let you to die on earth " he sassed at you and locked you in the dark room . "NO PLEASE .NO. HELP" you screamed while punching the door. Normally you would n'd mind about the dark but now it terrified you . The felling that you're all along , that you had to face the unknown by yourself, that you didn't knew what you'd wake up tomorrow it killed you . You collapsed at the foor in sobs and weak screaming for help but no one was there to hear you . You cried yourself to sleep that night thinking about what you left behind at earth.

[thisdaynews]

British ambassador, now target of Trump’s ire, has D.C. wired

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/british-ambassador-now-target-of-trumps-ire-has-d-c-wired/

British ambassador, now target of Trump’s ire, has D.C. wired

Reports that British Ambassador Kim Darroch privately dissed the president’s team as “dysfunctional” and “inept” in leaked cables back to the British foreign ministry have set off a diplomatic spat. | Alex Wong/Getty Images

foreign policy

Kim Darroch is known as a garrulous and popular figure who rarely lets his diplomatic mask slip in public at his famously lavish parties.

When British Ambassador Kim Darroch went to the White House days after Donald Trump was inaugurated, the new U.S. president greeted him warmly, noting that he’d watched Darroch being interviewed on Fox News.

“You’re going to be a TV star!” Trump told Darroch.

Story Continued Below

It was a jovial moment, according to two people Darroch told about the encounter, and it was one reason that the British envoy — in public and private — has described Trump as “charming.”

But new reports that Darroch privately dissed Trump’s team as “dysfunctional” and “inept” in leaked cables back to the British foreign ministry have set off a diplomatic spat and soured Trump on the diplomat. The president has spent two days obsessively tweeting about Darroch, claiming he doesn’t even know him, that the Brit is a “very stupid guy” and a “pompous fool” and — most astoundingly — insisting the U.S. will no longer deal with Darroch.

Yet in Washington, Darroch is widely liked and well-connected in U.S. government circles, having cultivated close ties to some of the president’s top aides, whom he regularly has seen in business and social settings. The ambassador to the U.S. since early 2016, he is a garrulous figure who rarely lets his diplomatic mask slip in public. He also throws famously lavish parties in his stately residence next to the massive British Embassy and always has a fun toast to make.

Trump aides and confidants who have attended his soirees include White House counselor Kellyanne Conway, Commerce Secretary Wilbur Ross and former White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders. Darroch and his embassy even hosted a September 2017 engagement party for Katie Walsh, Trump’s former deputy chief of staff, and her beau Mike Shields, which several Trump aides, including Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin, attended. Matthew Whitaker celebrated the new year during his brief stint as acting attorney general at the British Embassy, where Darroch oversaw the festivities.

Now, almost overnight, the ambassador risks going from bipartisan Washington convener to ostracized foreigner at Trump’s direction. The fallout reflects how quickly Trump can turn on a top ally’s envoy — and insist that Washington turn with him. It’s also another example of Trump’s willingness to shatter diplomatic norms with the United Kingdom, which claims a “special relationship” with the United States.

“It drags one of the most important U.S. relationships internationally through the mud at the very highest levels,” said Jeff Rathke, a former Foreign Service officer and Europe analyst who has served in multiple administrations. “Even if it is temporarily satisfying for President Trump in some way, it is bad for the relationship because it undermines confidence and trust.”

The irony, said one person close to the Trump administration who’s been to Darroch’s parties, is that “a lot of folks from the White House actually say the exact same things” about the internal dynamics there. “They were probably saying those things to him.”

The fracas started Sunday, when the Daily Mail published a story detailing the contents of secret cables that Darroch had sent to London offering his analysis and views on the Trump administration starting in 2017. According to the British news outlet, Darroch described internal divisions in the White House as “knife fights,” warned Trump could lead the U.S. to war with Iran and described the administration overall as “chaotic,” predicting it would not become “less dysfunctional; less unpredictable; less faction riven; less diplomatically clumsy and inept.”

Darroch wrote that Trump “radiates insecurity” and has “no filter.” But he also warned officials in London: “Do not write him off.”

On Monday, Trump lashed out: “I do not know the Ambassador, but he is not liked or well thought of within the U.S. We will no longer deal with him.” By Tuesday, Trump seemed even more angry, tweeting: “The wacky Ambassador that the U.K. foisted upon the United States is not someone we are thrilled with, a very stupid guy…. I don’t know the Ambassador but have been told he is a pompous fool.”

On both occasions, Trump also used his tweets to attack outgoing British Prime Minister Theresa May, who he said had failed to take his advice on how to negotiate Brexit with the EU. “She went her own foolish way-was unable to get it done,” Trump wrote.

So far, the British government has stood up for Darroch, noting that it’s his duty as a diplomat to offer “honest, unvarnished” analysis to his superiors back home. “Sir Kim Darroch continues to have the Prime Minister’s full support,” a U.K. spokesman said.

And the State Department has said it will still work with Darroch — for now.

“We will continue to deal with all accredited individuals until we get any further guidance from the White House or the president, which we will, of course, abide by the president’s direction,” spokeswoman Morgan Ortagus said during a news conference, describing the U.S.-U.K. relationship as “bigger than any individual” and “bigger than any government.”

For his part, Darroch worked as usual on Tuesday from his embassy office on Massachusetts Avenue,. He also went to Capitol Hill to meet with Senate Finance Chairman Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) and Rep. George Holding (R-N.C.). However, he did not join a meeting between Liam Fox, a top British trade official, and Ivanka Trump, the president’s adviser and daughter. Fox hadsaidhe would apologize for the leak during the meeting.

Darroch, who did not respond to a request for comment, has spent decades as a diplomat, holding top positions such as national security adviser to former British Prime Minister David Cameron before coming to Washington. He’s done tours in Tokyo and Rome, and dealt with Middle Eastern and Adriatic issues, according to his embassy biography.

His appointment to the ambassador post in Washington is something of a career capstone — the position is considered the most prestigious ambassadorship in the U.K. foreign service and often goes to senior diplomats in the final years of their career.

The 65-year-old was born in Northern England and attended Durham University. He studied zoology but joined the U.K.’s diplomatic ranks in 1977. He is referred to as “Sir Kim” because of his appointment as a “Knight Commander” in 2008.

Some former officials and analysts believe what made Darroch a target for whoever leaked his critical memos is the ambassador’s extensive experience with European Union issues. He spent many years dealing with U.K.-EU relations, including having served as Britain’s representative to the regional bloc in Brussels. During a party in Washington months after the British voted to leave the EU, Darroch remarked wryly that his EU experience was “obviously time well spent.”

The belief in some corners is that the leaks of the cables were orchestrated by supporters of Brexit who want to make sure that the next British ambassador in the United States is on their side. Others suspect Russia may be behind the leaks similar to the way Moscow is accused of hacking the Democratic National Committee’s emails.

Sally Quinn, a journalist who’s attended parties at the British Embassy, said what Darroch wrote in the cables reflects what most foreign ambassadors in Washington also privately think.

“What Kim Darroch said is what all the ambassadors or most of them think, even the ones who particularly cozy up to the Trump people” like ambassadors from Middle Eastern countries, Quinn said. “They’re just lucky that their reports have not been hacked.”

Darroch has always been respectful to Trump administration officials in private, according to people who know him. At parties he has hosted, he would note how honored he was to have senior officials from the Trump administration attending, and they would return the bonhomie.

“Oh, we love the British — go Brexit!” one senior Trump administration official told Darroch at a small private dinner last year, prompting the British ambassador to laugh.

Darroch’s dilemma has now become an issue in the British Conservative Party’s internal race to replace May as prime minister. That contest is down to front-runner Boris Johnson, the former foreign secretary and a Brexit advocate, and Jeremy Hunt, the current foreign secretary who supported remaining in the EU during the 2016 referendum.

Hunt on Tuesday tweeted support for Darroch, whom he said was simply doing his job by sending honest analysis to London.

“Allies need to treat each other with respect as @theresa_may has always done with you,” he wrote, addressing Trump. “Ambassadors are appointed by the UK government and if I become PM our Ambassador stays.”

Johnson has stressed that he has a “good relationship” with the White House, avoiding addressing Trump’s comments directly. But Nigel Farage, a fellow Brexiteer whom Trump has suggested should be the British ambassador in Washington, bulldozed into the controversy. “Kim Darroch is totally unsuitable for the job and the sooner he is gone the better,” Farage tweeted.

Despite Darroch’s positive reputation in the foreign policy establishment, some observers pointed out that the insights he offered in his memos weren’t all that original.

“You could have pulled it from pages of The New York Times,” said a senior Conservative British lawmaker, who asked not to be named. In fact, Trump’s “overreaction” arguably proved correct Darroch’s assessment about the volatility of his administration, the lawmaker added.

Robin Niblett, director of the London-based Chatham House think tank, said Trump’s assault may be an opportunistic attempt to gain “leverage” over the next British prime minister.

“In essence, it’s, ‘You will need to buy back my love,’” Niblett said. “There’s plenty of issues on which the U.S. wants to influence U.K. foreign policy going forward: Iran sanctions, [the Chinese tech firm] Huawei and a U.S.-U.K. trade deal.”

Darroch was expected to leave his post, and possibly retire, in January 2020. The fortuitous timing could give the next prime minister a chance to possibly sit tight and quietly move him on without appearing to have caved to Trump.

If Johnson wins the prime minister’s slot, he might recall the envoy. But if for whatever reason Darroch is allowed to stay and Trump follows through on his threat to bar U.S. officials from dealing with him, Darroch could find his final days as a diplomat rather lonely.

The dust up is already affecting his ability to socialize. On Tuesday, a person familiar with the matter confirmed the White House had disinvited Darroch from a dinner on Monday night in honor of the visiting emir of Qatar.

Charlie Cooper contributed to this report from London.

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[loxare]

A Talon By Any Other Name

Chapter 7 - Getting to Know You

“Wonderful. You're awake.” Dick beamed at the dry British voice. Every time he heard it, it was followed by cookies and a general feeling of calmness. In the Court, it had been calm any time he wasn't on an assignment, but it was a tense calm. Like the calm before a storm. Agent A was the calm after the storm, when you knew everything was going to be ok now.

As usual, there was a tray full of cookies in the butler's hands. Unusually, there was a glass and a paper cup full of pills as well. “Here we are.” Hood made a tentative grab for the delicious-smelling treats. He'd always been grabby about food. But Agent A gently slapped his hand away. “None of that now. You must have these first.” He held up the paper cup and a glass of water.

Hood was instantly suspicious, recoiling as far back into his pillow as he could. “What is it?”

“Nutrient pills. We attempted to get you on an IV drip, but you continually pushed the needles out. And your blood work was severely lacking in several essential vitamins and minerals.”

There was something about Agent A that made a person instantly want to obey. Batman had obviously built an immunity, and Red seemed to be well on his way, but luckily, Little Wing was new to the butler's no nonsense demeanor. Demurely, he took the cup and dry swallowed the pills. Dick couldn't really tell, because of the mask, but he was fairly sure Agent A rolled his eyes at the action.

He pushed the glass closer. “And the water young sir. Then you may have your cookies.” Dick had to say, he'd never seen something disappear that fast. Hood had gotten the entire glass drank in one gulp.

Satisfied, Agent A maneuvered the tray so it was sitting on Hood's lap and the Talons dived in. They were still eating, savouring every bite, ten minutes later when the Batmobile pulled into the Batcave. Those were the terms now. As soon as he figured out how, he was hacking into the Batcomputer and changing them there.

Red Wing bounded into the medbay as soon as he was showered and changed, as he had been for the past few days. When he saw Hood, his face covered in crumbs, chocolate chips, and raspberry jam, he broke into a smile. “Hood! You're up!”

“Yup. Not dead yet squirt.” He bit down on the last bite of cookie, ignoring the napkin Agent A was not-so-subtly holding out in his direction, choosing to wipe his face off on the back of his hand instead. “So, how've you been since the last time I tried to kill you?”

“Nice try. You never tried to kill me. You were training me.”

“Ah! Little detective, this one!” Hood grinned, and Dick mirrored the expression. His little brother didn't seem to have any bad side effects from Joker's attacks. No brain damage. That was good.

Red Wing's smile dropped into a serious frown. Dick followed that one too, knowing what Red was going to ask and showing silent support. Even though they were Talons, Red idolized them a bit. Probably because of the no-fatal-attacks thing, but probably something else too. “Why? You had plenty of chances. But you never went for a death blow. Not even a maiming one. Why?”

Hood blew out a breath of air. “Right to the heavy question, huh? Alright. First time I ever saw you, you were talking some druggie woman down from a ledge, saved her and her kid. I checked on her a month later. She'd gotten checked into rehab. Her kid was doing well in school.” He scratched at the back of his head. “Dick tell you how we can get memories back sometimes? Just random, out of the blue ones caused by some trigger or another?”

Red Wing nodded. “He got a memory the first time he saw you.”

Hood's eyebrows flew up. Dick frowned. Had he never told... Nope. He had not. Oops. Giving him a Look, Hood continued. “Well, watching you talk to that lady that night gave me one too. Some blonde woman, maybe my mom. Maybe not. I was reading to her. There were needles everywhere and her eyes were all glazed. But sometimes, she smiled.” His eyes were faraway. Dick was listening intently, and he knew Red was doing the same. Anything Hood could remember was a hint as to who he had been. “You were so kind to that lady on the roof. And I thought, maybe, if my mom had had someone to check her into rehab, if she'd gotten clean, I wouldn't have gone to the streets. I wouldn't have been Talon.”

He snapped back to reality and flicked Red on the forehead. “You kind of sucked though. Any Talon could take you out with both hands behind their back and blindfolded. You had a job to save people and you couldn't do it if you were dead. That's why.”

Rubbing his forehead, Red nodded. “Thank you. I'd been wondering.”

“Well stop it. It'll give you little creases that will never go away.” Intent on being annoying, Hood rubbed his thumb between Red Wing's eyebrows, trying to erase the crease there while Red protested. After a moment, Dick joined in, pulling Red's mouth into a smile. “Frowning is bad for you Red. Lighten up!”

“Let go you guys! Stohahhaap!” The last word was severely distorted by giggles when Hood gave up on the seemingly-permanent crease and started tickling the poor little crime fighter. After a particularly fierce chortle threatened to take one of Dick's fingers off, he moved to tickling too. Fingers were a pain to regrow.

“What's going on in here?”

The sudden, stern, Batman-voice had all of them freezing in place. Slowly, they turned to the door, Red still hiccoughing a few snickers. Dick pressed his mouth into a straight line. “He is much too serious for his age. He has way more growing up to do before he becomes a broody tower of darkness like you.”

Hood nodded. “Small children need to smile Bats.”

Ignoring Red's protest (“I an not a small child! And you're not much older than me!”), Batman just glared at Dick, who glared right back. Probably not a good idea to glare at the guy who had decided yesterday that he wouldn't put them in the little cells the Batcave had for some reason, but it needed to be done. “Now if you'll excuse us, we were in the middle of something important.”

Hood got in first, grabbing a very ticklish spot on Red's knee, producing a startled yelp from the boy. Dick went back to focusing on his sides, Hood on the bottoms of his feet. Dick wasn't sure, but he thought he saw Batman smile, shake his head, and turn to leave.

Red didn't escape until twenty minutes later when Agent A walked back in with a new batch of cookies. That man really had the best timing. “Alright Master Dick, Master Hood. I do believe that Master Red has had enough for now.”

Tim jumped. Master Dick and Master Hood...? But Alfred only ever called people he considered family by that title. People who belonged in the Manor. He caught the butler's eye and received a knowing smile in return. So Alfred saw it too?

It had been a bit slow, but Dick had managed to very much incorporate himself into life in the Cave. Any time he wasn't watching over Hood's bedside, he was helping, teaching Tim new moves, showing Bruce how he could use acrobatics to climb buildings faster than even a grapple, helping Alfred dust the computer. Or sometimes making a nuisance of himself, hopping from stalactite to stalactite and scaring the bats, taking naps on top of the computer screen, hanging from the car's platform to startle Tim when he jumped out at the end of a long night. Hood himself had been awake for less than an hour, and he'd already impressed Alfred with his hearty appetite and willingness to pull the ever-serious vigilantes out of their brooding.

A day or two later, once Alfred let Hood get out of bed officially (and after he'd snuck out at least six times), Hood had managed to work his way past the Bat's very impressive walls. A good majority of it was hiding in the stalactites and jumping out to startle him (which never worked) and spotting things in cases that Bruce and Tim missed. For example, one of Riddler's riddles had involved a classical novel, one Bruce had read, but not often and not for a long while. Hood had the entire relevant passage memorized.

By way of explanation, Hood just waved a hand. “I was sent to pick up a delivery from an Owl's house. I may have made off with a book or six as well.” At Dick's raised eyebrow – because really, how did he manage to get away with that? – he grinned. “They were the dusty ones, in the very back of the library. He probably didn't even notice they were gone. That's where I got most of my books. Deliveries. Read them a hundred times, at least. Never took any from any assassination assignments though...”

Soon after, Tim found himself browsing the bookshelves in the study, trying to find something Hood might like. All four books were finished in two days and piled neatly on Tim's workbench. After a half hour, he looked up to see a pair of teal eyes peeking at him longingly from the far end of the table. With a sigh, he stood and walked up the staircase, pulling off his mask as he went.

Bruce, in his usual paranoid fashion, had installed a fingerprint and retina scan, as well as a vocal key, to the door. To keep the Talons out, he said. Tim just smirked and shook his head. Neither of them had shown any interest in going upstairs, although Dick did start waiting at the bottom of the stairs every time he heard someone open the clock.

The study was empty. So was the rest of the house actually. Bruce had gone to a Wayne Enterprises meeting and Alfred had driven him. So it was just Tim and the secret basement of Talons. And apparently, as he grabbed another book off the shelf, someone else. He heard their breathing beyond the door, but there wasn't any time to hide or react. The door burst open and Tim let out a strangled cry as the assailant tackled him, then another as his head slammed into the desk. Dazed, he could barely follow the intruder's conversation as he spoke into a walkie-talkie.

“Yeah, alone, just like you said. ... Nah, I didn't have any trouble breaking in. ... That code the Court gave you really does work on everything. Easiest kidnapping I've ever been paid for.”

The conversation was cut short when the clock burst open. Thankfully, the kidnapper had his back turned as Hood shouldered his way past the magnetic locks and Dick flipped into the room, landing on the guy's head. He went face first into the same desk that Tim had landed on, going unconscious instantly.

Dick gathered Tim in his arms while Hood hogtied the intruder. Then they raced back down the stairs, pulling the clock closed on Tim's insistence. Before Tim could get his bearings, he was sitting in the medbay, with Hood stitching the cut he didn't even realize was bleeding while Dick tried unsuccessfully to call Bruce on the computer.

“Ok, I got nothing. Hood, you still haven't fixed your shoulder?”

“It's fine. Just dislocated. It'll heal.”

“It'll heal faster if you fix it. Red, how do you work this thing?”

Later, Tim would blame the head injury for this. At the time, it seemed like a spectacular idea. “The passwords are 0527DC1939, 0437DC1940, 0416B1943, 03357B1983, 08436B1989, 08647DC1992, and 09655B2006. Batman can be called on the third icon down.” He faded in and out of consciousness, only hearing brief snatches of conversation as Dick relayed what happened.

It was almost like his brain was taking snapshots instead of video. Click. Dick was by the computer, Hood was leaning close to inspect the stitches. Click. He'd fallen over. Hood was picking him up. Dick was rushing over. Click. They had pushed a bed so it was against the wall. Click. They had sat him up and put themselves on either side of him, to keep him from falling over again. Click. They had both fallen asleep. That sounded like a good idea.

Meetings were long and almost always uneventful. This one was one that Lucius could have taken care of by himself, but the board members insisted on his presence. Of course finances were crucial, but this was beyond him, let alone his facade of idiot billionaire playboy. And it was boring. Fighting crime was simultaneously more interesting and more fulfilling.

No, that wasn't quite right. Wayne Enterprises employed thousands of people. Money was donated to charities which he used to fund the criminals who were more desperate and down on their luck than the hardened thugs he normally encountered.

Bruce truly believed that his charities helped those people. The ones who turned to gangs or petty crime so they could feed their little ones. It was largely in part to the Wayne Foundation. Not to mention his own night time activities, which were not as promiscuous as the board wanted to believe. Of course, he normally had a good sense of which person he encountered was a criminal and which one was just desperate.

His phone rang, jostling him from his not-related-to-finance thoughts. Hiding his relief with a look of annoyance, he gestured to the board to continue. Stepping out, he pressed his phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Ah! I got it to work. Hood, it's working!”

“I can hear that Dickie. Just tell him what happened. Whoa Red, stay upright. I need to bandage this.”

And now Bruce was freaking out a bit. Bandage what? And how had Dick gotten into the computer? “Talk. Now.”

“Right, right. So Red was upstairs getting Hood more books and we heard him scream. Once, and it was probably just him tripping on something. But he screamed twice and we got all worried. So we broke your door and there was a guy and Red was lying on the floor bleeding a bit from his head. I knocked him out and Hood tied him up and now Red is getting stitches and I thought you should know.”

Bruce sighed and rubbed his eyes. “He's alright?” From the sound of things, he was, but Bruce wanted to make sure. He started towards the elevator. He'd give his apology to Lucius tomorrow.

“A little woozy. He probably has a concussion.”

The elevator door closed behind him. Pressing one of his shirt buttons, he temporarily shorted out the camera. And now for the second important question. “Did the intruder see the Cave entrance?”

“Hm? No, he had his back turned when Hood bashed through. Speaking of, Hood, fix your shoulder or I'll fix it for you!”

“Fine!” There was the distinct crack of an arm going back into its shoulder socket.

And the third question. “And you saw the room upstairs? Any notable objects?”

“Oh yeah. There was a desk, and a bunch of decoration stuff!”

“And wall to wall books. Tell him about the books Dick!”

“Hood says there was books.”

“That was the least excited mention of books I have ever heard.”

“That's because it's not exciting.”

Before Hood could reply, Bruce barked, “Focus!” The elevator dinged, and he swept his eyes across the room. Spotting Alfred speaking to the receptionist (a lovely young woman, sir, she wants to go to Yale next year), he waved him over. One last question. “Do you know why the man was there?”

“Yup. Heard him just before we broke in. The Court sent him he was going to kidnap Red.”

“WHAT?”

“No idea why. Maybe we'll find out later? Ah, who am I kidding? You're Bats! You'll figure it out.”

He would have preferred a concrete reason, but this would have to do for now. “Keep an eye on him,” he meant Tim, but he couldn't tell Dick his name, and calling him Red while there was twenty or thirty people in ear shot would be suspicious, “I'll be home in half an hour.” He hung up, and turned to Alfred. “Someone went after Tim today, but whoever it was clearly wasn't expecting our guests to be there. Tim likely has a concussion though.”

Alfred sniffed, holding the door open for Bruce. “Some people have no sense of decorum. Entering a person's house while they're away is the height of poor taste.”

Giving a short laugh, he smiled at his lifelong friend through the mirror. “Indeed it is Alfred. Now let's see how he's doing.”

The ride home was definitely a half hour according to the clock on the dashboard, but it felt like so much longer. As it wore on, Bruce felt something unfamiliar creep up on him. He was trying to shift through every possible culprit who could have gotten past the Manor's security, but his focus kept slipping sideways to Tim. If he was alright, if he was scared or worse, if this was so in the norm for him that he was simply used to it. Maybe making him Red Wing had been a bad idea. If he hadn't, he wouldn't be getting injured on a regular basis. Actually, if he hadn't taken Tim in in the first place, he wouldn't be getting targeted by unknowns. And that wasn't his only failure. He should have kept a better eye on Dick, that day at the circus. Should have gone up and comforted him right away instead of looking for clues as to the murderer's identity. If he had, the Court might not have grabbed him. And Hood had dislocated his shoulder?

“Oh, do stop worrying sir. I'm sure Master Tim is fine.” The curt voice cut through his thoughts.

“I'm not worrying. Am I worrying?” Was he worrying?

Alfred gave him a wry smile. “It appears so Master Bruce. Fret not. It's natural to worry about your children when they're injured.” Children? It made sense for Tim, he supposed. He had adopted the boy after all. But he'd been worrying about Dick and Hood too.

Bruce was saved from having to reply by Alfred pulling up to the front door.

Leaping out, he pushed open the door, already standing ajar, and raced down the hall, to the study. As promised, there was a thug lying on the ground, thoroughly tied up and unconscious. As a precaution, Bruce lifted the man and tossed him into the hall. Alfred could call the police on this one.

He opened the clock, noting the broken magnetic locks, and took the stairs two at a time. He raced through the training room, the main area, and the garage (complete with boat, plane and motorcycles), before he remembered the medbay. Hood had been stitching Tim's head.

And there they were. Sitting on a bed parked longways along the wall, each of them fast asleep. It surprised him a bit when the tight feeling in his chest lessened, not just at the sight of Tim's general health (head wound not withstanding), but also at Dick's and Hood's. Grabbing a blanket from another bed, he covered them and turned to leave, flicking off the lights as he went. He had to speak to Alfred about some guest rooms.

It wasn't until a few hours later that he noticed someone had altered all his equipment records. The “Batmobile”? What?

AN: Another happy chapter! Yay! I don’t know if you noticed, but I am working very hard on getting these out by the end of this week and not forgetting.

[uniteordie-usa]

From Snowden To Russia-gate - The CIA And The Media

http://uniteordie-usa.com/from-snowden-to-russia-gate-the-cia-and-the-media/ http://uniteordie-usa.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/RussiaRussiaRussia.jpg From Snowden To Russia-gate - The CIA And The Media The promotion of the alleged Russian election hacking in certain media may have grown from the successful attempts of U.S. intelligence services to limit the publication of the NSA files obtained by Edward Snowden. In May 2013 Edward Snowden fled to Hongkong and handed internal...

The promotion of the alleged Russian election hacking in certain media may have grown from the successful attempts of U.S. intelligence services to limit the publication of the NSA files obtained by Edward Snowden.

In May 2013 Edward Snowden fled to Hongkong and handed internal documents from the National Security Agency (NSA) to four journalists, Glenn Greenwald, Laura Poitras, and Ewen MacAskill of the Guardian and separately to Barton Gellman who worked for the Washington Post. Some of those documents were published by Glenn Greenwald in the Guardian, others by Barton Gellman in the Washington Post. Several other international news site published additional material though the mass of NSA papers that Snowden allegedly acquired never saw public daylight.

In July 2013 the Guardian was forced by the British government to destroy its copy of the Snowden archive.

In August 2013 Jeff Bezos bought the Washington Post for some $250 million. In 2012 Bezos, the founder, largest share holder and CEO of Amazon, had already a cooperation with the CIA. Together they invested in a Canadian quantum computing company. In March 2013 Amazon signed a $600 million deal to provide computing services for the CIA.

In October 2013 Pierre Omidyar, the owner of Ebay, founded First Look Media and hired Glenn Greenwald and Laura Poitras. The total planned investment was said to be $250 million. It took up to February 2014 until the new organization launched its first site, the Intercept. Only a few NSA stories appeared on it. The Intercept is a rather mediocre site. Its management is said to be chaotic. It publishes few stories of interests and one might ask if it ever was meant to be a serious outlet. Omidyar has worked, together with the U.S. government, to force regime change onto Ukraine. He had strong ties with the Obama administration.

Snowden had copies of some 20,000 to 58,000 NSA files. Only 1,182 have been published. Bezos and Omidyar obviously helped the NSA to keep more than 95% of the Snowden archive away from the public. The Snowden papers were practically privatized into trusted hands of Silicon Valley billionaires with ties to the various secret services and the Obama administration.

The motivation for the Bezos and Omidyar to do this is not clear. Bezos is estimated to own a shameful $90 billion. The Washington Post buy is chump-change for him. Omidyar has a net worth of some $9.3 billion. But the use of billionaires to mask what are in fact intelligence operations is not new. The Ford Foundation has for decades been a CIA front, George Soros’ Open Society foundation is one of the premier “regime change” operations, well versed in instigating “color revolutions”.

It would have been reasonable if the cooperation between those billionaires and the intelligence agencies had stopped after the NSA leaks were secured. But it seems that strong cooperation of the Bezos and Omidyar outlets with the CIA and others continue.

The Intercept burned a intelligence leaker, Realty Winner, who had trusted its journalists to keep her protected. It smeared the President of Syria as neo-nazi based on an (intentional?) mistranslation of one of his speeches. It additionally hired a Syrian supporter of the CIA’s “regime change by Jihadis” in Syria. Despite its pretense of “fearless, adversarial journalism” it hardly deviates from U.S. policies.

The Washington Post, which has a much bigger reach, is the prime outlet for “Russia-gate”, the false claims by parts of the U.S. intelligence community and the Clinton campaign, that Russia attempted to influence U.S. elections or even “colluded” with Trump.

Just today it provides two stories and one op-ed that lack any factual evidence for the anti-Russian claims made in them.

In Kremlin trolls burned across the Internet as Washington debated options the writers insinuate that some anonymous writer who published a few pieces on Counterpunch and elsewhere was part of a Russian operation. They provide zero evidence to back that claim up. Whatever that writer wrote (see list at end) was run of the mill stuff that had little to do with the U.S. election. The piece then dives into various cyber-operations against Russia that the Obama and Trump administration have discussed.

A second story in the paper today is based on “a classified GRU report obtained by The Washington Post.” It claims that the Russian military intelligence service GRU started a social media operation one day after the Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych was illegally removed from his office in a U.S. regime change operation. What the story lists as alleged GRU puppet postings reads like normal internet talk of people opposed to the fascist regime change in Kiev. The Washington Post leaves completely unexplained who handed it an alleged GRU report from 2014, who classified it and how, if at all, it verified its veracity. To me the piece and the assertions therein have a strong odor of bovine excrement.

An op-ed in the very same Washington Post has a similar smell. It is written by the intelligence flunkies Michael Morell and Mike Rogers. Morell had hoped to become CIA boss under a President Hillary Clinton. The op-ed (which includes a serious misunderstanding of “deterrence”) asserts that Russia never stopped its cyberattacks on the United States:

Russia’s information operations tactics since the election are more numerous than can be listed here. But to get a sense of the breadth of Russian activity, consider the messaging spread by Kremlin-oriented accounts on Twitter, which cybersecurity and disinformation experts have tracked as part of the German Marshall Fund’s Alliance for Securing Democracy.

The author link to this page which claims to list Twitter hashtags that are currently used by Russian influence agents. Apparently the top issue Russia’s influence agents currently promote is “#merrychristmas”.

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When the authors claim Russian operations are “more numerous than can be listed here” they practically admit that they have not even one  plausible operation they could cite. Its simply obfuscation to justify their call for more political and military measures against Russia. This again to distract from the real reasons Clinton lost the election and to introduce a new Cold War for the benefit of weapon producers and U.S. influence in Europe.

None of the Russia-gate stories so far has held up to scrutiny. There is no proof at all, nor reasonable evidence, that Russia interfered in elections in the U.S. or elsewhere. There is no evidence of “collusion” with the Trump campaign.

One of the most complete debunking of the false claims can be found in the recent London Review of Books: What We Don’t Talk about When We Talk about Russian Hacking. Consortium News has published many pieces on the issue as well as analyses and warnings of what may follow from it. Many other writers have caught up and debunk the various false claims. The Nation lists various cases of journalistic malpractice with regard to Russia-gate.

The people who promote the “Russian influence” nonsense are political operatives or hacks. Take for example Luke Harding of the Guardian who just published a book titled Collusion: Secret Meetings, Dirty Money, and How Russia Helped Donald Trump Win. He was taken apart in a Real News interview (vid) about the book. The interviewer pointed out that there is absolutely no evidence in the book to support its claims. When asked for any proof for his assertion Harding defensively says that he is just “storytelling” – in other words: its fiction. Harding earlier wrote a book about Edward Snowden which was a similar sham. Julian Assange called it “a hack job in the purest sense of the term”. Harding is also known as plagiarizer. When he worked in Moscow he copied stories and passages from the now defunct Exile, run by Matt Taibbi and Mark Ames. The Guardian had to publish an apology.

The Mexican government controls the media by buying an immense amount of advertisement. It thus guarantees income as long as its political line is followed. The U.S. government has its own ways of controlling the media. In the 1950s to 1970s the CIA ran Operation Mockingbird which gave it control over much of the news and opinion output in U.S. media. During that time up to 400 main stream journalists were working for the CIA.

The method of control has likely changed. The handling of the Snowden affair lets one assume that the CIA induces billionaires to buy up media and to implement the CIA’s favored policies through them. We do not know what the billionaires get for their service. The CIA surely has many ways to let them gain information on their competition or to influence business regulations in foreign countries. One hand will wash the other.

James Clapper as Director of National Intelligence, John Brennan as CIA head and James Comey from the FBI “assessed” that Russia influenced the U.S. presidential election. Annex B of their report, which hardly any report bothered to mention, read:

Judgments are not intended to imply that we have proof that shows something to be a fact. Assessments are based on collected information, which is often incomplete or fragmentary, as well as logic, argumentation and precedents.

That sentence is the core of Russia-gate. There are lots of claims, assertions and judgments but no proof at all that any of the alleged Russian influence really happened.

It is probably due to the undue influence of the intelligence services that media have adopted that Annex B standard fro themselves. With regards to Russia (and other issues) assertions are now enough – there is no need to investigate, to find the truth or to verify claims.

How will that system work if an accident happens, some jet gets shot down and the issue escalates. Will there be any reporter left in the main stream media who is allowed to ask real questions?

Read More: http://www.moonofalabama.org/2017/12/washington-post-russia-sham.html