#the additional consequences of his closest friends and allies turning against him/

[edenaziraphale]

I've ignored most of the responses to this post because generally I don't care to argue with people online but the ideas that 1) Messages are not contained within the art itself 2) Treating Anders and Solas with narrative consistency would be to create a "nice cozy ending" 3) Anders' ending was like that to Teach Folks a Moral Lesson and make them Reflect are all fucking insane and I am losing my mind

There's a lot to be said about the weaknesses and strengths of the writing in Dragon Age games, but for me there's nothing that trumps the way the writers' implicit biases shine through in their treatment of various characters. Anders and Solas showcase the very worst of this. Functionally Anders and Solas could (and I would go so far as to say should) operate as foils to one another. Anders is a victim of decades of abuse at the hands of both individuals and a system that demonized him from a very young age. We are given information about his childhood and time spent in the circle that makes it explicitly clear that Circles are an unjust and abusive system that traumatized him so much that he fled multiple times regardless of the fact that he knew the abuse would escalate each time he escaped. In the end, he chooses to chance death and lifelong struggle via conscription because it is his only shot at escaping his current reality. After that, in DA2, it's made clear that Kirkwall's circle is even worse. Karl is made tranquil, the templars are mad with power, and it's heavily implied that the tranquil are utilized as sex slaves and that some templars may even be selecting mages for tranquility based on their desire for them alone. In the light of all of that, Anders makes a very desperate and destructive choice. Regardless of how players feel about his actions, it's not really up for debate that the context surrounding them creates mitigating circumstances and a sympathetic backing. He was attempting to affect positive change for a group of people facing fates that the game makes clear are worse than death. Despite this, the game's writing treats him as an unsympathetic villain whose actions are not only reprehensible, but completely beyond the realm of human understanding. That dynamic at the end of DA2 carries into DAI. Solas, on the other hand, is on a quest to undo his own actions. His initial construction of the Veil and the problems that it caused can be viewed with (some) similarity to Anders circumstances in that Solas was attempting to right a wrong done by someone else, but the key difference is that, unlike Anders, who was a powerless victim attempting to free other powerless victims, Solas was on a revenge quest to avenge the death of his friend and had an incredible amount of power within the system that he existed as a part of.

His actions had horrific consequences that birthed what is essentially an entirely new existence for everyone in Thedas eons before the start of any of the games. He finds the outcome of his own actions intolerable, and seeks to reverse them. He harms friends and allies to do so, and makes it explicitly clear that he does not care who he harms or what the consequences are to Thedas or the people who live there in his quest to bring back the version of the world that he liked better. Functionally, Solas makes an excellent villain. He stands out from Anders (who operates in his narrative as a symbol of the rage and disenfranchisement of the powerless) as a representation of power and ego unchecked and the damage that they can cause.

Unfortunately, the writing of the game treats him as though he is the tragically complex victim of forces outside of his control when he is in fact the over-powered puppeteer. He is very much the master of his own destiny and he intends to be the master of everyone else's destiny as well by ripping apart the fabric of reality. No character in the series better demonstrates the writer's biases than Varric, who, as a narrator for DA2, essentially acts as the moral arbiter telling players how they should and should not feel about events, explaining what is and is not moral. His reactions to Anders stand out in sharp relief against what we see of his reaction to Solas in the Veilguard releases so far.

To be clear, I don't hate Solas as a character. I think as a villain, he works very well. His complete and total disregard for the wellbeing of others paired with his affect of wise and gentle mage are compelling to witness. His motivations are understandable from the selfish and self-centered core of us as people. He's a fantastic reminder of what happens when we decide that we know what's best with no input from others, when we pursue our desires above all else beneath the veneer of wisdom. He's fun, well rounded, and interesting. He is not, however, a tragic and morally justified sadboi victim of circumstance, and I resent that the writers treated him as though he was.

[lupizora]

Phantom Scars

Of all the fics I wanted to post as my first in this fandom, this little character study was an unexpected last-minute addition. Tbh it's more of a headcanon I developed while watching the series because I still can't get over how often Touma loses his arm and it just grows back, no problem! Also, after finishing it the other day, NT Volume 22R owns my entire heart. So, the aftermath we didn't get to see managed to sneak in there at the end haha.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: None

Rating: T 

Word Count: 1116

Summary: People tend to forget that because you can't see the physical evidence of a wound, it doesn't mean there isn't any emotional scarring left behind.

Misfortune.

Bad luck.

Curse.

Kamijou Touma had called many things the ability receding in his right arm during the half-year worth of memories he had. Sometimes he wondered if the person he had been before losing his memories had used different words or had different emotions. His heart refused those thoughts when all sorts of calamities occurred to him every other day.

Not everything related to Imagine Breaker was unlucky. It had also assisted him in saving a lot of people from their personal tragedies, even the entire world once or twice too. He couldn’t renounce or deny it for existing. It remained a part of him, literally and figuratively, whether he wanted it or not.

But there was one thing Touma wished to be different—the fact his right fist didn’t leave any proof behind. Neither of his feats in the battlefield’s aftermath, neither any marks on his body. He had been hurt in his many misadventures or assignments; broken bones, bleeding guts, even losing his entire arm a bunch of times. Thanks to Academy City’s superior doctors, there were no consequences or evidence left behind to prove it all. The only saving grace he had been allowed in this life.

And yet, late at night, when the freeloaders in his dorm were sound asleep, he’d look in the mirror and wonder: Was any of it real?

In less than half a year, Touma had faced against desperate Magicians and power-hungry Espers alike. He had been present when worldwide organizations clashed to the point of wars. He had seen the world disappear in a flash of light and return in a clap of thunder. But he carried no scars to speak off these events. As if they were nothing more than elaborative daydreams, figments of a teenager’s overactive imagination. Recognition wasn’t the goal or the end destination. It would probably bring even more trouble than his ten minutes of glory would accomplish. 

He just wanted his sanity to latch onto something tangible. Having nothing to prove his claims, how was he certain it ever happened?

Memories could be finicky things. Touma knew that more than anyone, being a certified amnesiac and all. So, unless he stuck his head into an MRI scanner, none would ever notice the damaged neurons crisscrossing like fried computer circuits over the soft tissue that mapped his brain. Touma had made sure the people closest to him wouldn’t. After all, he wasn’t some kind of kintsugi pottery for others to put on display. Just an ordinary high school boy—one everyone could find anywhere in Japan—with an unusual right hand.

Touma opened his eyes to several people standing in a circle around him. Friends, acquaintances, former adversaries turned allies; all were sharing similarly concerned expressions. It didn’t stop them from resting their hands in their preferred weapons. As if they were still wary of an attack. No one could blame them; he certainly didn’t. Every person in this room had survived a war, only to get roped into another—so soon and so suddenly—that most were still unaware why it transpired in the first place. They all looked worse for wear, even those that had been on the offensive.

The destruction he and the other had caused in the ballroom flashed before Touma’s eyes. Taking into account only the fights he’d been part of in this skirmish, the damage to the surrounding area was leagues away from his meager budget.

I really hope they don’t make me pay for all this. But then again, my misfortune is— He stopped. His right hand returning to him meant it would restart canceling his good fortune. Instead of dread settling on him like a wet blanket, Touma was joyful. Yeah, my luck is so bad, it might as well happen.

Everyone continued to stare; the tension so thick, someone could cut it with a butter knife.

“What’s with this gloomy atmosphere?” Touma asked with an awkward smile. “If my heart wasn’t beating so loudly, I’d think this is my funeral.”

No one laughed at this poor attempt of a joke. But several shoulders relaxed, and some breathed out a sigh of relief.

“So, it’s safe to assume you’re back to normal?”

“Yup.” Touma clenched his fist. “Everything is here, human skin and all.”

“Wait! These wounds!” Index forced his fingers open again. Cracks painted thunder shapes from the base of his fingernails to his wrist. They didn’t hurt, so he hadn’t paid them much attention. But the silver-haired girl, gripping at his arm like a lifeline, had tears in her emerald eyes. “We can’t heal them now. They are going to scar!”

Maybe the blood loss was responsible, but Touma’s heart felt lighter. If only for a moment, another wish he may have willed into existence had come true. Unlike the one he had just laid to rest; this wasn’t a weight that would bother anyone.

Still, something compelled him to reassure the sobbing girl in front of him. “Don’t be silly, Index. It’s gonna be alright,” Touma said. “This is nothing a couple of bandages can’t fix. And it just so happens I know someone—”

Another girl, the one whose appearance he could never recall, entered his thoughts like a bullet train. Touma turned his head. Those near the ballroom’s busted entrance noticed his expression and stepped aside to clear the view. No one had collapsed in a pool of their own blood there.

“She is safe. The Royal Nurses accompanied her to the hospital.”

“That’s—” His knees buckled— “great.”

Letting go of Index’s hand, Touma collapsed to the floor under their collective cries. Everyone took a step forward, but there was no need to worry. Somehow, he had managed to land in the least damaged area with no glass or wood shards around. It seemed like Lady Luck was smiling his way for a little longer.

Touma waved wobbly to reassure them. “It’s fine,” he said. “I just need to lie down for a moment.”

“But! You should see the doctor too,” Index whimpered. “We need to get you to a normal bed.”

“I don’t want to.” Stretching against the carpet, Touma settled into a comfier position that didn’t pull at his wounds. “That’s too much trouble for Mr. Kamijou right now.”

“Really…” Index’s puffy fairytale dress rustled as she kneeled next to him. “You’re are so immature sometimes.”

“Pot,” he mumbled. “Kettle.”

Index didn’t try to bite off his head. Maybe she didn’t pick on the taunt. Maybe it was pity or even mercy. Whatever it was, Touma didn’t care as he drifted into a well-deserved rest. Such a peaceful moment had been a long time coming, after all.

[firesign23]

Trope mash up: detective au + poorly timed confession

Okay, so, a few notes first. I got this mash-up (detective AU + poorly timed confession) and it so perfectly fit my plans for Cocks and Robbers (not its real title, I promise) that I was like “Damn.” So then I decided to write a version of a scene that will eventually be part of a longer fic. In theory. The basic premise of which is FBI-agent-equivalent Jaime has struck up an unlikely friendship with Detective Tarth of the King’s Landing PD after they worked the kidnapping of the Stark girls together three years previously. Simmering attraction, blahblah, Jaime gets caught in a bank robbery/hostage situation, manages to notify Brienne’s captain/his close friend as it started, blahblah, y’all know this trope.

Trope mash up: detective au + poorly timed confession

(Below the cut for length)

Jaime looks around the office, assessing each of his fellow hostages. The group has formed a near-circle, though none have been brave or foolish enough to put their backs to the door where one of the robbers stands sentinel. The man is watching the corridor, not the hostages, his fingers tapping the barrel of his rifle in a strange staccato. Amateur, then. Or possibly just cocky.

Of the hostages, six of them are some degree of hysterical, ranging from slightly upset (one of the tellers) to about-to-lose-their-shit-and-get-someone-shot-in-the-process (the bank president); the only one who isn’t is the bank security guard, a crude man who is eyeing Jaime with the same sort of assessing gaze. Blackwater, says his nametag. Jaime hopes like fuck he’s uninterested in getting shot--he’s the closest thing Jaime has to an ally at the moment.

Shuffling back slightly so his back is against the heavy oak desk, he manages to slip his phone from his sock, where he’d stuffed it as the robbery began. He doesn’t want this noticed, hopes like hell none of the others see it and ask questions. The quickest glance tells him his text chain with Addam is still on-screen--he mutes the output and hits the call button, then shoves the phone beneath the edge of the desk. It should be good enough to pick up the conversation in the room, give the police outside some idea of what’s going on, at least in this room.

He runs a hand over his face, eyes roving around the room once more. He's trained for this possibility, it’s part of the job, but he never expected to have to use it. Not for what was supposed to be a routine trip to the bank. He hadn’t even stopped for coffee this morning. He just hopes it’s enough, hopes he can keep order before someone fucks up and gets hurt, or--experience warns him--gets someone else hurt.

*

Brienne isn’t entirely sure how long they have been sitting in the surveillance van, waiting for Ops to get a video feed inside the bank. Too fucking long, by any reckoning.

She’s contemplating whether she can just walk into the damn building and fuck the consequences when Addam’s phone rings.

“It’s Jaime,��� he says, and for a moment Brienne thinks that maybe he’s inside but not--

Addam answers, muting the mic and putting it on speaker in one swift movement, hooking it up to the computers in the van, and Jaime’s voice comes through. She’s never been so glad for his expensive taste in technology--he’s distant, as if he’s hidden the phone nearby, but the sound is clear.

“Hey,” Jaime says, interrupting low murmurs—the other hostages. “If we’re going to be stuck in Edd’s office, why don’t we go around, tell everyone our names? We might as well know who we’re stuck here with. The guy at the door isn’t going to mind.”

Edd. Bank president. Brienne writes it down, shoves it at one of the officers in the van with them. It should help, knowing where the hostages are being held. There’s a frisson of… not excitement, this is too dangerous to be excited about, but it’s something. Jaime leads the conversation, the voices in varying degrees of clarity, but he is always clear, his words layered in subtext that Brienne and Addam are able to parse. There are seven hostages in addition to Jaime, a single man guarding the door to the office where they are being held. Jaime manages to convey that there were at least three more, all armed, and he has no idea where any of them are. Nobody is injured. Yet. It’s something.

The conversation dies away, but even through the phone Brienne can tell that people are getting restless, panicked. Panicked people are dangerous. They make stupid decisions and people get hurt. Jaime must notice too, because he speaks again, in that same level, soothing tone. Panicked people are dangerous, but they can be controlled.

“Listen,” he says. “Every single one of us has a reason to walk out that door safely. Let’s focus on that, okay? Jeyne, what about you? What is waiting for you?”

Brienne listens as the group takes turns talking about the thing that means the most to them, the thing worth living for. Friends. Family. One of the women mentions that she has a cross-stitch she’s never found the time to finish. Another talks of the holiday she has booked, her first one since her husband passed away the year before. Jaime keeps them talking, engaged, distracted. Brienne tries to pick up hints of the situation inside the bank, keep her mind on the task at hand, but there is an aching humanness in the conversation that sets a strange lump in her breast.

“What about you, Jaime?”

It’s one of the women that asks. He’s avoided talking about himself up til now.

“I have a cat,” he says, a familiar gentle fondness in his voice. It’s a good line. True, but not revealing. “Giant grey tom called Honor. I rescued him in the Vale last winter. Well, I didn’t. I was with a friend--”

“You fucking her? This friend of yours.” It’s one of the men. Bronn, she thinks, the security guard. She doesn’t even want to imagine why his mind went there, but it keeps the conversation moving. Someone titters, a nervous laugh but a laugh all the same.

“I never said it was a woman,” Jaime replies dryly.

“It’s always a woman,” says the man. “That’s a no, then. You wanna fuck her?”

This time, Jaime ignores the comment entirely. “We had to head back early, before a snowstorm hit, and it was dark and late and fucking freezing, and she insi--”

“Told you it was a woman.”

“--insisted on checking the car before we moved. Said animals would sleep anywhere when it was that cold. Of course, she was right. She found this scrawny little kitten tucked around the engine and…”

Brienne knows the way he smiles at this part of the story, the unaffected little shrug he gives as if to say what else could we do? One of the women laughs genuinely, despite the circumstances. Jaime has that effect on people.

“The friend can’t have pets at her place, so he came home with me. He’s mouthy and stubborn, so I tried to name him after… well, she didn’t like that. And Meticulous Pain In My Ass was too unwieldy, so Honor it was.”

There’s a softness in his voice by the end, an affection that she knows is about more than the most spoiled feline in King’s Landing.

“Sounds like you have more than the cat waiting for you,” says one of the women, startling Brienne. “She must be very lucky.”

She expects him to object, or play it off, but Jaime is simply silent for a long moment. “She’s extraordinary,” he finally says. There is a raw honesty that she rarely associates with him in his tone. “She doesn’t know that I... She should be told.”

And she knows, objectively, that he is talking about her. She’d held that little kitten halfway to King’s Landing before they’d found a place to stop and buy supplies, it’s not like she can forget that. She can even, in that distant part of her that is not entirely focused on the job, acknowledge the implications of what he is saying. She can’t deal with them, but she can acknowledge them. It isn’t until Addam looks at her though, far too much sympathy in his eyes to be coming from her captain, that she realises.

Jaime doesn’t know she is here. His words are meant for Addam, not for her. A message to pass on, if the worst happens. He doesn’t… however calm his voice, however clever his communication, he doesn’t think he’ll be walking out of that bank alive.

And his last-- no.

“Take five, Tarth,” orders Addam, brisk but not unkind. “It’s your turn to grab the coffees.”

She doesn’t want to go, doesn’t want to risk missing… She doesn’t want to go, but she can’t stay either, can’t sit in this cramped little van listening to his voice knowing it might be the last time she hears it.

Not when he’s just admitted he loves her.

Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP

[tomishaped]

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary:

After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One: A Hoard of Demons 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izrael had been one of those very rare and few humans to become a demon without having died and spending hundreds of years in hell. He couldn't tell you how it happened though, he didn't remember much at all about being a human. Actually, he didn't remember anything at all about his human life. His first memory is just waking up in some sort of dungeon, a captive of one of the Princes of Hell, Asmodues. He remembered the surprised look on the prince's face when he realized that his little pet was no longer a human. He was staring through the bars at a very confused little blond with black eyes sitting cross legged in the center of the cage. "Who are you?" Izrael had asked him. Asmodeus quickly realized that his little pet had no memory of anything at all, and really that worked in the demon’s favour. He had been able to mold the little blond into absolutely anything he wanted after that, and Izrael listened to him since he had no recollection of the years of abuse he had received from the prince. Instead of the cruel and vicious memories he had previously, his first encounter with the man now was of tqhe person who let him out of a tiny cage. He was grateful to him instead of fearing and hating him.

Asmodues had known his little blond was going to be powerful in some way, any human who turned demon without dying and spending hundreds of tortured years in hell was- not there were actually many of them running around. It was actually incredibly rare. The prince had the perfect weapon in his pet demon, and he planned on using the blond to help take out anyone in his way. No one knew Izrael existed after all, and he could and did keep him a secret while he trained up the young demon. Izrael learned quickly, he was fast and ruthless and ridiculously fantastic with a blade in his hand. Any blade. They became the blonds favourite weapon very early on in his training. And the small, feminine, stupidly pretty boy was quite easy to overlook and think nothing of. He didn't look like he could possibly be dangerous at all, and right there was the mistake that oh so many people and demons made. After fifty years of training with the prince and knowing only of life in hell, he was in reality one of the most dangerous men you could cross paths with. His appearance made that fact all the more true since every single person who met him once Asmodues finally decided to start using him underestimated him.

Almost sixty years since Izrael turned demon had passed now, fifty-seven of those spent in hell and only three on earth. Azazel and Ramiel were dead and Asmodues' only competition for the Throne anymore was Dagon, he sent Izrael out in the world with just a few instructions. Kill any demon who sided with Dagon and Lucifer, cause as much chaos as he could, and blend in with the humans.

Asmodues was the youngest Prince of Hell, so Dagon had the right to rule hell before he would. And she didn't seem keen on giving it to him. No. She was letting that prick Crowley keep it after Ramiel had given the crown to him until she could resurrect the only person she felt should run hell, Lucifer. The youngest prince had absolutely no interest in having the Angel who created him back in the picture, and he wanted to use Izrael to make sure it didn't happen.

The blond had been doing a very good job at listening to his master's orders. No demon knew who he was or where he had come from, and very few could even tell he was one of them when they first saw him. What they usually saw was the human persona he had created under his master's orders, Izzy Hilton. He knew very little about humans and how to filly act like one so he mostly came off as a rather ditzy, kinda dim, and pretty little blond. And that made the death of a lot of them very easy. After ten years of this though, he had grown somewhat of a reputation in hell. The few demons who managed to escape his grasp before he could actually kill them made sure that Izrael's name started circulating underground. There were three reactions that demons had, the ones that feared him and stayed out of his way, the ones that started to idol him and in turn Asmodeus and were now on the youngest princes side, and the smallest group were the ones who wanted nothing more than to kill him and get him out of the way so Dagon could continue work.

It was members of that third group that caused Izrael the trouble that he was in right now. It was never a good sign for a single someone when so many demons were working together to eliminate you. There were almost twenty of them here, surrounding the little blond menacingly. Weapons in hands and screaming taunts and threats at him. "You're going to die tonight, Princess, no matter what," the apparent leader of the little group said to him, grinning at him in a way that would have made most people piss themselves, "Tell you what, if you give in and take it, we might just take it easy on you. What do you think?"

Izrael rolled his eyes, was he serious? Did he honestly think that he was going to make this little attack on him easy in any way? No fucking way. If he was going to die, and that was a big IF in the little demon's mind, then he was going to take as many of these mother fuckers with him as possible. "I think the fact that you're even asking me to lay down just shows how scared you all really are," Izrael told him, not even a tiny hint of fear in his own voice. In fact, he sounded amused and a bit annoyed if anything. Izrael bent down and wrapped his hand around the hilt of the demon killing knife that was hidden in his boot. He almost always wore some cute pair of boots as they made hiding his blades from view really easy. He held the knife in front of himself and waved it a little, "So let me ask, are y'all sure you wanna do this? I can promise you this, no one is going to like the consequences of your actions right now."

Dean… Dean was a hot mess. Granted he was less of a hot mess then he was a few months ago after he came back from hell. He was ‘gripped tight and raised from perdition’ or some shit. He had mostly given the finger to the flying dicks whenever they poked their heads around. Sammy and Bobby overruled and grounded him and all but packaged him up and sent him over to the Roadhouse. Sammy was going to be doing groundwork while Bobby tried to get the Colt up and working again and Dean was supposed to gather intel from hunters that came to the bar. He was sure everyone just wanted to keep an eye on him and his part was full of crap but hell it was the closest thing to a vacation he’d ever have. He’d never admit it out loud but he kinda saw the point after the fifth time Sammy had to track him down after a night bender stretched out a few days and he couldn’t remember. At least that was something he couldn’t remember.

He had been doing okay with the girls at the bar for the first month and a half but now he was starting to get restless. Why else would one walk down dark alleys in the middle of nowhere Nebraska? Either you’ll find a fight or a monster trying to get a late snack, win win. And what luck, this hardly seemed like a fair fight. Though he had to give props to the blond standing her ground with being outnumbered like that. He could smell the sulfur in the air with how many demons that were in the ally at once. He grabbed his brother's parting gift, having found the demon killing knife in his bag when he was states away. He had called him to tell him how much of an idiot he was but right now it seemed like a great idea.

He had used his moment of opportunity and snuck up on the group but just couldn’t stop his mouth from going off, keeping the blade out of sight. “Oh come on guys, I know you don’t like to play fair but even this is a bit much,” he said, looking over the group. “I mean blondies got a point, you almost look scared with how many of your friends you had to bring along,” he added with a laugh.

Really, right now there were just too many demons surrounding him for the feared little blond to pay much attention to anyone or anything that wasn't involved in this ambush against him in this alleyway. He couldn't afford to take his senses off of any of the demons surrounding him while keeping on the lookout for more demon scents coming close. This group may have feared the pretty little blond they finally cornered, but even Izrael couldn't fight alone against this many of them and get away without a scratch.

He had to hold back the surprise from his face when he heard a voice he hadn't expected, recognized, or even realized was there. What the actual fuck? No fucking way. Did a god damn hunter actually happen to stumble across this fight? Izzy looked to the owner of the voice and was surprised even more now at who he saw. That was that Winchester boy. The one who had been dead and in hell earlier that year. Izrael was sure of it. And it made his confidence of getting out of this alive rise greatly. This man was a hot topic in the whispers that went through hell so Izrael knew that the men here probably felt that Dean Winchester was probably only a little better to have to face off against than Izrael himself. He could practically see the other demons trying to figure out what they wanted to do.

Cornering Izrael again if they disappeared now was going to be near impossible now that he knew there was a group after him. But staying here and having to fight against that fucking hunter and try to kill Izrael before they were killed themselves might actually be just as hard. "Yanno, that guys right too," Izrael said, not wanting Dean to know he knew who he was. Now that the hunter had seen what he looked like, he didn't want him to know that he was a demon too. He was going to have to play Izzy from here on out, his human persona that Asmodues had insisted on. He hated doing that, pretending to be human was hard. "You sure you brought enough of them now though?"

The demon that seemed to be the leader of this little powwow growled at both Izrael and Dean, "Winchester, why don't you get out of here. This really has nothing to do with you."

“Oh but I think it does," Dean said with a grin, taking a step forward as he eyed the group. For this many demons this little stick of a thing must either have something they want or was important for whatever plan they had. With this many though he figured they all wanted the blond dead and there was no way he was going to let that happen. He might have been benched but he could still take down a few demons.

“You ass holes are in my town now,” he said and took another step towards the group, his demeanor unwavering against the demonic group. He had a feeling there was a chance he wasn’t getting out of this fight and there's alway a part of him that was always just fine with going out like that then walking away from someone else in that position. “Anything you do here has everything to do with me. Now I'd leave the pretty little thing alone before I make you," he added.

A few things happened after that, two or three of the demonic pricks just noped out and left their meat suits, letting them go limp on the cold ground. Then it seemed about half the group turned to Dean and charged and the other half turned back to the blond. He pulled out the knife out easily and got the first demon easily under the ribs, pushing his body back at the group to catch most of them off guard and slow them down, taking a few of them at a time.

Izrael was still mostly focused on the demons around him rather than the single hunter there, even if it was that one. But he could still hear him… and was honestly a bit surprised at how this was going right now. He had just been banking on the unfocused way Dean's presence was making them maybe give him a bit easier of a chance to fight his way out without getting hurt. He was cocky enough to believe that even with this many of them they couldn't kill him. But Dean… wasn't going anywhere. He was sure that Dean didn't know he was a demon as well, sure… but… what? The hunter… was backing him up…

He had never had any kind of backup before. It was a weird feeling. And he instantly didn't trust it. He didn't have time to try and figure out what happened to the human, the demons had all made a choice and leapt into action. "Aw, fuck!" Izrael snapped when he saw smoke curling away from them from the ones who fled before the attack started. Well they had to fucking move fast now. Those fucking three could go and gather reinforcements any second now.

Izzy moved quickly on his feet once the others started in on either him or Dean, glad the other was a bit busy with his own hoard at the moment so he couldn't pay attention to the blond working his way over to him. Kinda hard to pretend to be human when you've got ten or so demons trying really hard to kill you.

"You have no idea what you've walked into tonight, Winchester," the demon that spoke wasn't lunging at the hunter while he said it, and Izrael growled to himself. Why can't people ever keep their fucking mouths shut? This fucker was trying to tell Dean… well, something. But whatever it was, there was a good chance it wouldn't paint the blond in a good light in the other hunters eyes.

Izzy sprinted at him, jumping up as he got close and his legs locked around the demons head and almost too easily flipped the man to the ground, his own blade sweeping forth and pressing into the side of the mans head, "One of these days you fuckers are really gonna have to learn to fuck off from me," he snapped before he pieced the mans skull and he quickly let go to pull himself back up and grab his knife out of the meat suit. Ah. Finally, There was the hunter.

Izzy rushed over to him and grabbed his arm, "Okay hotshot, time to go," he said, trying to pull him back from continuing to go after the last of the demons that were on their way to attack the pair that was now together. He could already feel someone fucking getting closer. And he didn't like who he thought he felt coming. Oh gods how he wanted to fucking get his hands on her! But… she was a fucking prince of hell. And they are just… not as easy to kill as these little pansies. And she was probably only coming because… fucking Izrael and Dean were in the same fucking spot. The top two names on her personal fucking hit list. She was also a fucking pansy ass little bitch and would be coming with others. And an actual feasible plan and not this half baked happenstance these fuckers got lucky with tonight.

"Don't ask questions, we don't have time, because I don't feel like dying right now and I like this jacket too much." He said, pushing at Dean's back some, knowing he was probably pushing the man harder than he should right now if he wanted to play Izzy, "Don't worry about them, okay. They're nothing. I'll kill them when they come at me later. It's fine, it happens. But see, some of these fucks just went and cried to mommy… and we really should not be here when that bitch shows up." He only had his knife on him. The hunter seemed to only have a knife. Fat lot of good those were against a fucking prince of hell. Fuck! Sometimes… he really wished he could jump out of his skin like a normal demon could. It really would make getting out of here a lot fucking easier.

It was hard to keep track of everything when you’re in the middle of a fight with this many bodys, giving and taking hits can be damn distracting. He did feel himself get a little lost in the fight, the brute violence of it all was very therapeutic. This was better for his stress than just sitting at the bar, hearing everyone else's stories while he was sidelined. He did get to see the blond take down who seemed to be the leader to this shindig and damn, that was impressive. She was like a deadly spider monkey, it was kinda hot. He didn’t really get a chance to dwell on it for too long before he was grabbed and dragged. He was a little taken aback by it, having been completely ready to take them all on. Granted this probably was the smarter idea but he couldn’t help but pout a little before giving into the others shoves.

“Yea, aren’t they always," he muttered as they took off down a connected alley. “Alright, follow me," he said, tucking his knife back in his pocket as they ran. He didn’t know who this was or what the literal hell they had gotten into but clearly they knew what demons were and needed help. At the moment he was a bit glad he had stopped Sammy from taking his car. 'Over my dead body,' he said every single time Sam brought it up before they split up. Like hell he was getting shipped off to Nebraska without his Baby. Right now they were lucky it was only a few blocks away, he hadn’t gotten far on his ‘night walk’ tonight.

Now that he wasn't cornered in a fucking alley by twenty demons, Izzy wouldn't say he needed help anymore. Actually, getting away from Dean was what would help a lot right now. If they were split up again, Dagon would only be able to go after one of them at a time, and that just wasn't worth her time. Not yet anyways. Not while she was still trying to pretend Asmodues couldn't possibly be a threat to her plan and that his little blond pet project wasn't as big of a threat as he seemed. She was wrong. Izzy was the perfect chess piece to throw the whole game in the youngest princes favour.

He also wasn't stupid enough to think that the man who had just put himself into a wildly outrageous unevenly matched fight with demons for some random blond in an alley was going to let that blond off on their own. If he took off Dean was gonna come looking for him. He didn't need that right now. So he followed him, trying to remind himself that a human would be grateful to this man right now, not annoyed that he was going to want to keep helping him. Making himself relax was going to be fucking hard, he wasn't used to relaxing… pretty much ever. Dammit where was Harley when he needed her? Why the hell had he made her stay in that motel tonight? Sure, she had been tired but Izzy was pretty sure if she were here that would be the one way that he could get this hunter to go off without him- banking on the man being too scared of her to think much of the blond at his side. Fuck it… he could do this for now. Just long enough so the Winchester wouldn't go looking for him once he bailed, it shouldn't be that hard, right?

[foursproutwealth-blog]

Trump, Netanyahu, & Bin Salman: Destroyers Of The Neoliberal World Order

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/trump-netanyahu-bin-salman-destroyers-of-the-neoliberal-world-order/

Trump, Netanyahu, & Bin Salman: Destroyers Of The Neoliberal World Order

Authored by Federico Pieraccini via The Strategic Culture Foundation,

The neoliberal world order has been in crisis for some years now, with no signs of recovery. Trump’s victory is an expression of a breach of trust between the American people and the national elites.

The perfect storm. This is what the situation in the Middle East looks like. More and more events in the region seem to be leading towards an epochal change in the delicate balance of power.

The balance of power in the Middle East was quickly altered following the victory over terrorism in Syria by Damascus and her allies. Moscow’s new role guarantees Iran virtually unlimited space to manoeuvre in the region. The new Iranian military bases in Syria match the agreement between Russia and Egypt for the creation of common areas of cooperation against terrorism.

In this complicated context, Donald Trump emerges as a destroyer of US interests in the region. Observing the cooperation between the Kurdish Syrian Democratic forces (SDF) and the Americans in Syria, we can see the genesis of all the problems between Ankara and Washington. Turkey used to employ political Islam (Muslim Brotherhood) as a way of destabilizing the Middle East and North Africa, once one of the central strategies of Obama and the State Department as well. Turkey now gravitates towards the multipolar milieu of Moscow, Beijing and Tehran. The role conferred by these three nations allows Erdogan to manoeuvre skilfully between allied nations as well as fomenters of Islamic extremism like Qatar.

Turkey is just an example of the delicate balance upon which the region rests. Moscow has become the sole mediator for all parties, and does not appear to have bad relations with any of them. The Saudis are going to buy the S-400 system from the Russians; Netanyahu is forced to try to influence Moscow in order to retain some kind of leverage over Iran, but to little avail. Mohammad bin Salman (MBS) has gone further, thanks to Trump and the green light of his son-in-law, arresting dozens of Saudi authorities and financiers (very close to Clinton and Obama), undertaking a genocide against Yemenis, arming Wahhabist Islamist terrorists in every corner of the region, and cutting off all relations with Qatar in a quasi-war that is turning out to be manifestly ineffective.

In this uncontrolled chaos, and among the factions loyal to the United States, Netanyahu is seeing Israeli missiles, launched from uncontested Lebanese airspace, being shot down in Syria. MBS cannot even force his pupil Hariri to resign; and even Saleh in Yemen was killed after betraying and abandoning the Houthis. Abu Dhabi and Riyadh are finding themselves coming under fire from Houthi forces, facing the consequences of their senseless military choices closer to home. In Israel, the Netanyahu government is drowning under a sea of corruption scandals, demonstrators on the streets demanding his resignation. Are coloured revolutions returning to bite the master’s hand? In order for Saudi Arabia to avoid a similar scenario, made worse by a dearth in welfare as a result of the drop in oil prices as well as the coffers being emptied by wars, MBS has decided to arrest and rob all of his opponents. Trump does not seem to care about the consequences of these actions, taking care to coordinate events at the highest levels with Xi Jinping in Asia and Putin in the Middle East.

Trump has made a wise choice by renouncing the impossible goal of achieving global hegemony, aiming instead to sort out domestic problems. He is committed to the cause of his electors, and to this end seeks to extract as much money as possible from his allies in order to restart the US economy, aiming for re-election in 2020.

In this sense, the lack of interest from the Trump administration in certain areas of the globe is emblematic. While the chemistry between Trump and Modi appears to be good, the tensions between India and China, heightened by border disputes, seems to have nevertheless dissolved. Following on from the failure of the neocons to divide Russia and China, even the border tensions between India and China seem to be now dissipating. In addition, in Ukraine, even the decision to send lethal weapons to Kiev has been downplayed, and the country now faces a counter-coup led by Saakashvili (yes, him again). Ukraine is a country in a mess, experiencing first-hand the consequences of an evil Atlanticist posture with its vicious anti-Russia policies.

The rest of the world, with mounting bewilderment, watches on while all manner of decisions are made with no rhyme or reason, such as the recognition of Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. The only ones to lose in this scenario are naturally the closest allies of the United States: Israel and all the Arab countries united behind the Saudi (money) state that are now obliged to stand up for the Palestinian cause. Whether out of incompetence or a strategic inability to take a position, it matters little why these decisions are being made. Donald Trump, MBS and Netanyahu are exactly what the region and the world needed. Why? Because these three figures, thanks to their actions, have reunited the axis of resistance in the Middle East, fortified the Russian presence in the region, and opened the door to Asian money for reconstruction, focused on integrating the Chinese Belt and Road Initiative. These three stooges have open the door to total defeat thanks to their reckless decisions.

New technologies, like the blockchain, as well as the revaluation of the importance of gold, accompany an inexorable competition to diversify from the US dollar. American military power is in crisis, but the US dollar remains the main reserve currency of the world. In addition to solidifying alliances with opponents by turning them into friends, Moscow and Beijing are aiming to create a new economic environment based on real value ??(currencies supported by gold) to undermine the financial speculative bubble brought on by the dollar, central banks, and all those financial systems that have created a totally fictitious economy completely disconnected from reality.

Trump is focused on the United States and appears uninterested in global affairs, which is a boon for global stability in the long term. In the meantime, Russia, Turkey and Iran are trying, with new economic and military solutions, to govern a region that is the epicentre of global chaos. Cooperation in disputed areas could reach a new level with Egyptian and Chinese soldiers working as peacekeepers. This seems to be another Russian masterpiece to accelerate the pacification of the region and widen the spectrum of nations involved militarily in the new multipolar world order.

The crisis of the neoliberal-neocon system is evident, although its media, ever useful for propaganda, tries to portray a false and artificial reality. The sense of despair intensifies when mainstream media tries to sell to the world audience the fairy tale of evil Russians trying to influence American elections. Nevertheless, other defamatory claims made, with no evidence offered, involve the Russian national Olympic team and allegations of doping. Their small victories, such as censorship against RT, show the true evil face of the old neoliberal world order.

MBS, Netanyahu and Trump represent all that is wrong in the West and the Middle East. The more they try to survive, the more they harm the interests of the neoliberal elites, only serving to reveal their true genocidal face (as in Yemen or Palestine) or even publicly admitting that their every political move is intended to favour the United States (Trump’s doctrine of “America First” lays it out quite openly and clearly).

The neoliberal order is based on a deception knowingly perpetrated by the mainstream media. They cloud the news to give a specific, partisan view of events. For those firmly opposed to such a warlike and dehumanizing drift, advantage must be taken of the opportunity presented by the unlikely trio of MBS, Trump and Netanyahu. By sweeping away the neoliberal hypocrisy, it is easier to show the brutality of the West’s ruling elite. This unlikely trio even achieved the more than unexpected effect of uniting almost all forces opposed to this warmongering world order, consolidating alliances and friendships in various geographical areas.

From North Africa to the Middle East, passing through South America and Asia, Washington is no longer the unique voice dictating all the decisions. Unlike in the past, Washington no longer chooses for others but instead prefers not to participate in order to avoid making plain its military and economic weakness. Even the withdrawal from the world stage is a strategy, especially if it is promoted as being done of one’s own volition, rather than being forced by circumstances.

[foursprout-blog]

Trump, Netanyahu, & Bin Salman: Destroyers Of The Neoliberal World Order

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/trump-netanyahu-bin-salman-destroyers-of-the-neoliberal-world-order/

Trump, Netanyahu, & Bin Salman: Destroyers Of The Neoliberal World Order

Authored by Federico Pieraccini via The Strategic Culture Foundation,

The neoliberal world order has been in crisis for some years now, with no signs of recovery. Trump’s victory is an expression of a breach of trust between the American people and the national elites.

The perfect storm. This is what the situation in the Middle East looks like. More and more events in the region seem to be leading towards an epochal change in the delicate balance of power.

The balance of power in the Middle East was quickly altered following the victory over terrorism in Syria by Damascus and her allies. Moscow’s new role guarantees Iran virtually unlimited space to manoeuvre in the region. The new Iranian military bases in Syria match the agreement between Russia and Egypt for the creation of common areas of cooperation against terrorism.

In this complicated context, Donald Trump emerges as a destroyer of US interests in the region. Observing the cooperation between the Kurdish Syrian Democratic forces (SDF) and the Americans in Syria, we can see the genesis of all the problems between Ankara and Washington. Turkey used to employ political Islam (Muslim Brotherhood) as a way of destabilizing the Middle East and North Africa, once one of the central strategies of Obama and the State Department as well. Turkey now gravitates towards the multipolar milieu of Moscow, Beijing and Tehran. The role conferred by these three nations allows Erdogan to manoeuvre skilfully between allied nations as well as fomenters of Islamic extremism like Qatar.

Turkey is just an example of the delicate balance upon which the region rests. Moscow has become the sole mediator for all parties, and does not appear to have bad relations with any of them. The Saudis are going to buy the S-400 system from the Russians; Netanyahu is forced to try to influence Moscow in order to retain some kind of leverage over Iran, but to little avail. Mohammad bin Salman (MBS) has gone further, thanks to Trump and the green light of his son-in-law, arresting dozens of Saudi authorities and financiers (very close to Clinton and Obama), undertaking a genocide against Yemenis, arming Wahhabist Islamist terrorists in every corner of the region, and cutting off all relations with Qatar in a quasi-war that is turning out to be manifestly ineffective.

In this uncontrolled chaos, and among the factions loyal to the United States, Netanyahu is seeing Israeli missiles, launched from uncontested Lebanese airspace, being shot down in Syria. MBS cannot even force his pupil Hariri to resign; and even Saleh in Yemen was killed after betraying and abandoning the Houthis. Abu Dhabi and Riyadh are finding themselves coming under fire from Houthi forces, facing the consequences of their senseless military choices closer to home. In Israel, the Netanyahu government is drowning under a sea of corruption scandals, demonstrators on the streets demanding his resignation. Are coloured revolutions returning to bite the master’s hand? In order for Saudi Arabia to avoid a similar scenario, made worse by a dearth in welfare as a result of the drop in oil prices as well as the coffers being emptied by wars, MBS has decided to arrest and rob all of his opponents. Trump does not seem to care about the consequences of these actions, taking care to coordinate events at the highest levels with Xi Jinping in Asia and Putin in the Middle East.

Trump has made a wise choice by renouncing the impossible goal of achieving global hegemony, aiming instead to sort out domestic problems. He is committed to the cause of his electors, and to this end seeks to extract as much money as possible from his allies in order to restart the US economy, aiming for re-election in 2020.

In this sense, the lack of interest from the Trump administration in certain areas of the globe is emblematic. While the chemistry between Trump and Modi appears to be good, the tensions between India and China, heightened by border disputes, seems to have nevertheless dissolved. Following on from the failure of the neocons to divide Russia and China, even the border tensions between India and China seem to be now dissipating. In addition, in Ukraine, even the decision to send lethal weapons to Kiev has been downplayed, and the country now faces a counter-coup led by Saakashvili (yes, him again). Ukraine is a country in a mess, experiencing first-hand the consequences of an evil Atlanticist posture with its vicious anti-Russia policies.

The rest of the world, with mounting bewilderment, watches on while all manner of decisions are made with no rhyme or reason, such as the recognition of Jerusalem as the capital of Israel. The only ones to lose in this scenario are naturally the closest allies of the United States: Israel and all the Arab countries united behind the Saudi (money) state that are now obliged to stand up for the Palestinian cause. Whether out of incompetence or a strategic inability to take a position, it matters little why these decisions are being made. Donald Trump, MBS and Netanyahu are exactly what the region and the world needed. Why? Because these three figures, thanks to their actions, have reunited the axis of resistance in the Middle East, fortified the Russian presence in the region, and opened the door to Asian money for reconstruction, focused on integrating the Chinese Belt and Road Initiative. These three stooges have open the door to total defeat thanks to their reckless decisions.

New technologies, like the blockchain, as well as the revaluation of the importance of gold, accompany an inexorable competition to diversify from the US dollar. American military power is in crisis, but the US dollar remains the main reserve currency of the world. In addition to solidifying alliances with opponents by turning them into friends, Moscow and Beijing are aiming to create a new economic environment based on real value ??(currencies supported by gold) to undermine the financial speculative bubble brought on by the dollar, central banks, and all those financial systems that have created a totally fictitious economy completely disconnected from reality.

Trump is focused on the United States and appears uninterested in global affairs, which is a boon for global stability in the long term. In the meantime, Russia, Turkey and Iran are trying, with new economic and military solutions, to govern a region that is the epicentre of global chaos. Cooperation in disputed areas could reach a new level with Egyptian and Chinese soldiers working as peacekeepers. This seems to be another Russian masterpiece to accelerate the pacification of the region and widen the spectrum of nations involved militarily in the new multipolar world order.

The crisis of the neoliberal-neocon system is evident, although its media, ever useful for propaganda, tries to portray a false and artificial reality. The sense of despair intensifies when mainstream media tries to sell to the world audience the fairy tale of evil Russians trying to influence American elections. Nevertheless, other defamatory claims made, with no evidence offered, involve the Russian national Olympic team and allegations of doping. Their small victories, such as censorship against RT, show the true evil face of the old neoliberal world order.

MBS, Netanyahu and Trump represent all that is wrong in the West and the Middle East. The more they try to survive, the more they harm the interests of the neoliberal elites, only serving to reveal their true genocidal face (as in Yemen or Palestine) or even publicly admitting that their every political move is intended to favour the United States (Trump’s doctrine of “America First” lays it out quite openly and clearly).

The neoliberal order is based on a deception knowingly perpetrated by the mainstream media. They cloud the news to give a specific, partisan view of events. For those firmly opposed to such a warlike and dehumanizing drift, advantage must be taken of the opportunity presented by the unlikely trio of MBS, Trump and Netanyahu. By sweeping away the neoliberal hypocrisy, it is easier to show the brutality of the West’s ruling elite. This unlikely trio even achieved the more than unexpected effect of uniting almost all forces opposed to this warmongering world order, consolidating alliances and friendships in various geographical areas.

From North Africa to the Middle East, passing through South America and Asia, Washington is no longer the unique voice dictating all the decisions. Unlike in the past, Washington no longer chooses for others but instead prefers not to participate in order to avoid making plain its military and economic weakness. Even the withdrawal from the world stage is a strategy, especially if it is promoted as being done of one’s own volition, rather than being forced by circumstances.

[vennomax]

For some Russian oligarchs, sanctions risk makes Putin awkward to know

New Post has been published on http://www.vennomax.com/global/for-some-russian-oligarchs-sanctions-risk-makes-putin-awkward-to-know/

For some Russian oligarchs, sanctions risk makes Putin awkward to know

MOSCOW (Reuters) – The threat of new U.S. sanctions has spread anxiety among Russia’s wealthiest people that their association with President Vladimir Putin could land them on a U.S. government blacklist, members of the business elite say.

The list, to be drawn up by early next year, is part of a sanctions bill passed overwhelmingly by Congress soon after Donald Trump became president and reluctantly signed by him on Aug. 2 despite his avowed wish to improve ties with Moscow.

Although those included on the list would not automatically be sanctioned, six people who are part of the business elite or close to the Kremlin said it was a major concern because the criteria for inclusion and the consequences were unclear.

“People are on edge,” said a senior figure in a major Russian company.

“If they classify you as close to Putin, just try proving it’s not the case,” the figure said. “The Americans’ tactics are clear: they need to cause pain in all ways possible for those who support Putin.”

While most of the business elite remains loyal to Putin, the prospect of personal sanctions — which can prevent travel abroad or access to foreign bank accounts and freeze foreign assets — has prompted some to steer clear, the sources said.

A billionaire businessman who has sat on panels of business leaders with Putin and in the front row of the audience when Putin addressed conferences has adjusted his diary to avoid such occasions, a source who works closely with him said.

“He’s simply been trying lately to show up less next to Putin,” said the source, who spoke on condition neither he nor his boss be identified because of the sensitivity of the topic.

“Because it’s not clear on what basis there could be sanctions. You get the impression anyone could get hit.”

A source in the entourage of a second Russian billionaire said several oligarchs had chosen the tactic of keeping a low profile to avoid inclusion in the list.

LIST OF OLIGARCHS

One billionaire businessman in the top 100 of wealthiest Russians spoke to Reuters in person. He said he could not get any clarity from his Russian political contacts about the threat.

Asked what steps he could take to protect himself if he was included on a U.S. sanctions blacklist, he said: “There’s no way. You have to leave.” He did not say where he would go.

Unusually for one of Russia’s billionaire class — a group that presents itself as loyal to the Kremlin – he expressed frustration with senior officials, including Putin.

“The leadership (of the country) does not believe that the sanctions are going to follow the hard scenario,” said the businessman, speaking on condition of anonymity. “They live in a parallel reality. No one wants to listen to business.”

Dmitry Peskov, Kremlin spokesman, told reporters on Thursday that he was not aware of any frustration among the business elite from the new sanctions.

“We know nothing of such views. If they exist and appear, we are always open to discussion,” he said. Asked whether he believed that sanctions were aimed at setting up elites against Putin, Peskov said: “We are confident this is exactly the case.”

The Aug. 2 sanctions legislation expanded and toughened sanctions already in force since over Russia’s 2014 annexation of Ukraine’s Crimea region.

“The law is very bad, it’s very broad, very incoherent, its application could have all sorts of consequences,” Andrei Kostin, chief executive of VTB Russia’s second biggest bank, said this week, referring to the legislation as a whole.

The list, to be drawn up by the Treasury Department, is set to name the most significant Russian oligarchs “as determined by their closeness to the Russian regime and their net worth”.

It is meant to be sent to Congress by the end of January, weeks before Russia is due to vote in a presidential election. Though he has not declared his intentions yet, most Kremlin-watchers expect Putin to run and polls show he would easily win.

BANK CHECKS

Sanctions lawyers say the list itself has no legal force and inclusion does not mean sanctions will follow. Other provisions of the Aug 2 law present a more immediate threat by raising the level of risk for firms that do business with entities already under sanctions.

Nevertheless, Western banks have started making additional checks on people they deem to be associated with Putin, said an executive with a European bank that operates in Russia.

The checks, said the executive, were prompted by the Aug. 2 sanctions law and included establishing whether the individuals, whom he did not name, had accounts with the banks concerned. The source did not say whether they were taking any action.

Some people in Putin’s innermost circle have already been on a U.S. sanctions blacklist since 2014.

Gennady Timchenko, an oil mogul and one of Putin’s closest friends, called his inclusion in 2014 “an honor for me”. Timchenko’s wife, Elena, had her bank card rejected the same year when she tried to pay for treatment in a German clinic because her husband was under sanctions.

The planned list of oligarchs is likely to include people outside that circle, who are not unquestioning Putin loyalists yet could still be punished for their association with him.

“Everyone’s fearful for themselves, they’re afraid of personal sanctions,” said a source close to a fourth top 100 Russian billionaire. “Because, what if the whole of the Russian establishment ends up under sanctions? No one knows, so everyone is afraid.”

A senior source who is close to the government and the Kremlin said the U.S. authorities were trying to turn Putin’s allies against him, especially with the presidential election approaching.

“If all these threats become reality, in respect of other people as well, that will create powerful tension and discontent in the business elite,” said the source.