#John Hay Library

[hplovecraftmuseum]

Entrance to the John Hay Library, 20 Prospect Street, Providence, RI. Within this building are stored the vast majority of Lovecraft's existing letters, manuscripts, and other important documents. The John Hay is home to Brown University's remarkable collection of books, manuscripts, and University Archives. No doubt H. P. Lovecraft would have been amazed and honored to find his papers collected and protected in such a venerable building. I would like to dedicate this 400th exibit of The H. P. Lovecraft Museum to all the dedicated friends, fans, and scholars who have supported Lovecraft's legacy over the years. Thank You. Your humble curator, Richard Gilman Huber Jr. (Exhibit 400)

[velvet-paradox]

Rewarded

Fandom: Call of Duty/ Fantasy AU Pairing: Knight!König x Princess!Female reader Summary: You've been living a double life to get close to the kingdom's blood Knight. Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, L-bomb, friends to lovers, pining, magic, p in v, creampie, smut.

"Squire! Where the devils are you?"

You came running through the stables, your cloak, cardinal red flowed and swirled around your form. You nearly tripped over a bucket, dust and manure kicking up behind you. Maybe you would have reached your destination more swiftly had you not been carrying that book about.

"I say, squire!"

You stopped just short of your Knight, only bumping just slightly into his polished armor. You had done quite the job this morn! You could make out your own reflection in the metal breast plate or rather the reflection you had created.

"I am here sire. I made great haste through the halls but to no avail I am proven to be late once more." Your knight, the one you bet on every joust, a victor, a champion merely looked down at your presence. What König saw was a scrawny squire boy, moppy hair, holes along the thighs of your leggings, boots a size too big and shrouded by a far too portly cloak. The complete opposite of your true identify.

"You need to put that brain rot away, where it belongs. In the catacombs, in the libraries, down in the archives and not in the stables, boy!" König tsked you through his helmet, only enough room to see his gorgeous blue eyes sparkle behind them. One this occasion he had smeared some coal along his face, making the two orbs stand out like stars in the night sky.

You had often wondered what that would be like, oh how you enjoyed his company! To lay beneath the stars out in the mossy valley, just you and your knight, enjoying the silence. Counting stars, making out constellations. Sharing knowledge. Passing the time. He might even one day choose to hold your hand in the misty dark.

"But it not just some tome, sire! Theses are ancient texts, a forgotten language that I refuse to let drift along like wood in the river. Someone took the time to write all of this down, is it not in favor of knowledge to not let that die on deaf ears?"

"You think too much for such a squire. Come now, put that down and help me."

"But sire--"

"Oh no, boy! Not that 'knowledge before the blade' stuff again. Just do as you are told."

You did not wish to set the book down on some filthy hay, König's pride and joy of a black and grey speckled horse, Sapphire, had recently relieved herself on, you kicked over a half full buck and set it down.

"Aye 'ave you been in here long?" The captain, John Price announced with his booming voice into the stables. It never failed to make you jump, stepping on the armored foot of the Knight. He toked on a cigar from some other realm, it smelled sickly sweet it made your nose twitch.

"Yes sir, all evening, why?"

"The princess… she is feared missing. Again. The king of course has asked me to keep it quiet but I thought maybe she were out here with you." John gave you a sneering look as you kicked around some dirt.

"Nay. And why should the princess be out here with the likes of me, then?" König retorted.

He gave you a bump when he heard you curse in the presence of the captain.

You knew why he'd asked, König did as well. It is simply because--

"You two are well aquatinted. Everyone in the kingdom knows that! If she were not lusted after by suitors here or in the next realm, courted by Sebastian Kruger himself but you did not hear such from me, I would say she would on your arm, no?" Price chuckled out plumes of smoke.

"Hardly. We are merely friends. And no, I have not seen her grace."

"Very well. The scouts will be looking over the grounds, if you see her, let her know she is requested to the box."

While they chatted about the celebratory joust, being small and hidden, were able to slink away. An empty stable, no prying eyes, you revealed yourself in the corner. You whisked off the glamour magic that had made you König's squire boy. Rounding your bare shoulders, holes were daintily carved out in a wave like design that carried across your chest. Embroidery details of flowers and leaves sewn delicately through the sheer puffy sleeves.

With your head held high, you hurried out of said stable, outside of them truly, and feigned your innocence. You even hummed a little tune as you passed by, loud enough for if not one but both were to hear, to keep your secret hidden.

"Aye! My lady Y/N, where have you been?" Price barked and proceeded to bow as you made your way back to these men as if you were not just there moments ago.

"My dear captain, is it illegal for me to strut about my own kingdom? Since when?"

"That is not what I meant, I-I merely was concerned for your well being. Foreigners have been known to steal royalty at such large events. Held ransom or far worse, my dear."

"And you think the great König would have allowed that?" You scoffed, leaning an arm onto König's shoulder like a foothold. The gentle rattle of his armor was cool against your sheer sleeves. "I think not sir. I was just strolling about, enjoying the days warmth and as you can see, no harm fell on me."

"Very well," Price announced, hiding his cigar from your dress. "When you are finished here, Sebastian will be waiting for you in the box. Good luck König."

"Yes, König," you taunt, playfully of course. This double life thing was getting quite tiresome but this was the bed you made and you must lay in it. "Very good luck."

"Have you already placed your bets, my lady?" König asked, banter in his voice as well as he stroked Sapphire's tidy mane.

"First thing I did this morning!" actually the first thing you did this morning was use a bit of magic, not too much to be suspicious but enough to polish the armor the big man before donned. "You know I always bet on you."

"Ah! My biggest supporter, really."

"Ha! All of the kingdom adore you König, and you know it." You clasped your hands in front of you, testing him to see if he'd cave and look down at your cleavage. "Where is your squire? he has left his book."

"That old thing, I should just let Sapphire piss all over it. More harm than good that thing. He most likely tore out of here in a frenzy, terrified of Price."

"König! You take that back at once, if the boy has a hobby, let him have it. Lord know he needs something to deal with the likes of you all damn day!"

"I mean this in the nicest of ways dear princess, but kindly, piss off." You snorted when he tripped against the stool, bending over and righting it for him so he could properly mount Sapphire. This time you did in fact catch him peeking. Blue eyes on yours quickly thereafter.

"As you wish sir," you curtsied and just before you swayed away from the stables, you grabbed up the book. "For safe keeping of course."

"Of course, princess."

….

"Whose he up against again?" Sebastian asked next to you, over the roar of the crowd. His breath already reeking of wine.

"Keegan. USMC's finest knight. Did you not see the bulletin when you arrived two days prior?"

"Guess I was too concerned about getting between my princesses legs." You whacked him arm, your father was nearby and heaven forbid he find out you are sleeping with the potential enemy, or that you were no longer pure. Might send him into an early grave.

The truth was you hadn't slept with the man beside you, flirted with the idea, but then he would say something most fowl and you couldn't help but pray your father might put you out of your misery and have the man exiled from the kingdom.

"Watch your tongue, Sebastian. You do know I can order it cut from your face, correct?"

"Would you continue to use it?"

"You are a sick man, Kruger. Ugh."

Everyone was finally settling down for the joust, your countrymen across from you shouting jeers and the dislike for your Knight, vice versa. It was all fun and games until someone had a little too much, lost in their cups, sheets to the wind and made the wrong choice. They'd end up sleeping it off that next day in the stocks if not worse depending.

All that mattered was the book safely hidden under your seat and that König would turn to be the victor, to receive a kiss upon his helm.

Sapphire soon set the scene, prancing out on the left side of the course, shaking her mane, swishing her tail, stomping her hooves into the sand. König held up his arm, his decorated lance, to the cheering crowd. As he did his first lap around, he had Sapphire stop in front of your box and curtsey, König even tipped an imaginary hat to you.

Keegan did the same, one lap and a show of grace and gratitude.

"Who do you suppose--"

"König never fails me."

It was true. Almost as if by some divine luck did König always win once you began betting on the man. You'd watch from your fathers' box until you were old enough to get your own, years now, close in proximity of course, had to remind you not to shout too loudly, that it wasn't very ladylike. You spat at that remark. A lady can choose whatever she does. The tantrums you would throw about hearing conversations of betrothment, sent off or given to some ugly prince or old king. Blegh. The thought of being touched made your blood boil, it was bad enough Sebastian thought you might lay with.

Bundling or bare. Yuck.

One might think, by your words, that you had used your magic to keep the score, keep him on the winning list of things but this was all König. You were told he was special. The faeries told you so one evening in the veranda, making their little mushroom circle so they could live lavishly, dancing about like fire flies.

"You know of König? the blood Knight, yes?"

"Of course."

"He is very special, not only to you but to all the realm, all who look upon him. See that he is looked after. Cared for, loved and he shall return it ten fold!"

"I am not going to use a spell or curse him."

"No no, princess. Not like that. How would you nurse a kitten back to health? with time and care, patience. Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

Their high pitch whispers in your ear tingled the hairs on your arms and neck. The little fae never left your garden, had been there before you were even thought of all those years ago, let alone how would they know about König?

And he did not fail yet again this night. The clashing of lance to chest plate, the crowd, the roar and grunts of pounding steeds and hooves in sand. The excitement, the adrenaline of watching two brutes joust and beat each other back and forth for all its' worth. All the praise, to be champion. All the spoils to the victor. Keegan was a dear friend and ally, all was not lost after the battle. Armor a bit dented, but nothing too serious. No wooden pieces had been lodged anywhere tender.

König trotted Sapphire towards your box and you made your way down the little steps, leaning over the balcony and looked straight into his eyes. They were on fire. He radiated heat and exhaustion.

You put your hands on his pauldrons and leaned in close.

"You fought valiantly, you are rewarded kindly." You kissed both sides of his helmet, lingering a bit on the second one as you could smell his aroma, distinctly König with added sweat of course. Bergamot, red currants, burning wood, hay; divine. "My blood Knight."

Sapphire even allowed a little snout pat before trotting off.

….

"Should I be worrisome, child?" Your father asks of you, as you lay in bed lipping through the pages of the book. He does not care much for your reading habits, most unbecoming of a young lady even though you are closer an age to König than most of the gentry women you surround yourself with. They are of the season, supple and willing to marry old wealth, put up with splotched hands on smooth skin, made some slave woman of her own name in a locked away tower somewhere. You've heard the horrors, seen the terrors. It is not pretty.

"Of what now, father?" You ask without even looking up.

"Of your friendship with the blood Knight," your father paced the length of you room, settling himself out on to the balcony, hands drawn and clasped behind his back. With a sigh you will your legs to move, to bookmark the page and get up. "Are you two… meaning to be more than friends?"

"Father please. König and I are truthfully platonic," you pat his shoulder with a genuine smile, even though behind your eyes and heart you wished nothing more than to be his beloved. "He cares for winning jousts as much as I. A true KorTac champion, yes? A real Knight."

"I suppose your are quite right, I just… I get the feeling there is something there and I do not know if I wish it to be true, someone to look after you once I am gone, well taken care of, loved. I do know you spend some time with Sabastian, supervised of course, to each their own child, I just do not care for his arrogance and stature."

"His stature?"

"He boasts himself too much, puts on airs. Is most embarrassing I must say."

"Agreed! Truth is father, if I were to be presented to someone for marriage I would gladly take König's hand any day."

"As friends?"

"As friends."

….

That was a lie but you did not wish to rush your father off to an early grave, if he knew your true intentions with your Knight. You would spend hours, disguised as his squire boy, listening to him rant and retell you stories of his valor, fighting off ogres at the outer wall of your kingdom. How he'd gained the trust of the elves, the way they taught him a few choice words over roast fowl and freshly caught fish. How the fire breathers danced in the moonlight, when he saved the life of several children from a dragon. He had the scales of the fallen beast sewn into his chainmail for added protection.

Not only did you want to watch the stars with König, some nights you would cast out magical hearts along your ceiling as you wished he would make you see them. Oh to be underneath him, you thought with a sigh, to see his face for the first time, to touch him, to kiss him. Maybe a true loves kiss if the faeries were correct.

"Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

The ballroom is filled with jovial voices, sober until the actual dance begins. Sheathed swords line the walls, of all sizes, your kingdoms banners flow and move against the high ceilings. Other knights stop by your throne and bow their heads before moving on to get a drink, or something to nibble on. Which is what you are doing, quietly of course, cant be seen as royalty with spinach in your teeth now can you?

"Your grace, will you be joining me along the dance floor this evening?" Kruger suddenly popped up, he always does that, he' so slinky. Quiet as the field mice you used to catch when you were small.

"Must I?"

"I would appreciate one dance before I go to the wall, pray tell who knows how long I shall be without your beauty this time."

Forever, you grumbled to yourself and covered your mouth with a fake smile. "One dance."

"One time is all I need, princess."

Gowns of gold and greens, blue patterns woven into the busts, everyone was buzzing about, König's repeat victory, who was going to be wed at the beginning of the season, bets on who would be in the stocks come next morning.

A round of applause erupted and you need not guess who its' praise was for. He towered over everyone here he might as well be an elf. He waved and bowed to everyone, Keegan following suit, getting his own set of admirers. Some flouncy women would be joining him this evening no doubt to soothe his loss.

"Do you think you could handle that much attention, my dear? All eyes would be on you as well if you were to wed the blood knight."

Your father said next to you, a goblet in hand as he watched you watch König do his tour about the ballroom.

"I don't mind. I am not jealous, father. He can do as he pleases, go where he is needed most, helpful as long as he comes home to me in one piece."

"Well… Kruger will be displeased to hear it."

"Pfft, I do not care what the likes of Sebastian Kruger have to say. He is most, annoying is to put it lightly."

"Agreed."

The music is as light as the conversations as you dance a round with Sebastian, he's easy to move with. You've danced with him before, when you caught his eye apparently. He'd been trying to get your attention, bringing you blood stained trinkets in exchange for your affections. You weren't buying it and when he wasn't looking you'd toss them into some bushes with a roll of your eyes.

He suggested another dance when the orchestra faded out into a newer song and thankfully you didn't have to turn him down as you two bumped into König.

"Afraid not friend, this one is for me."

Kruger slunk away, giving you a bow as it would be highly inappropriate to argue with the winner of the nights' champion. It didn't help how König had said for me. You would ride that high for weeks, surely.

"You did save a dance for me didn't you, princess?"

He'd cleaned up, lighter gear of course, different helmet too. He'd even scrubbed off the coal, though his eyes were still just as bright and clear. He bowed.

"Several in fact, my knight." You also bowed and got into position, holding onto his armored body, you began to move about the room. "Have you already danced with some fellow maidens? Am I slim pickings?"

"Ha! I did not know you were suddenly a jester, my lady!" König chuckled behind his helmet, fingers intertwined with your own as he turned to spin you out only to bring you back in with your back to his chest. "Maybe you should start wearing one of those hats as well."

"Oh please, König. I know you are what the youths call a lady killer."

"I shall have you know, your grace, I have never killed a woman in my life!"

"Not seriously, you oaf."

He shook his head at you as you continued to dance, another song melted into the next and you thought he would bid you good night but instead insisted, begged for another dance. Who were you to object to his request? Plus he was warm and playful and you didn't have to pretend, using magic to be this close to him.

"You did not answer my query?" You pulled your body closer, leaning up against his armor, a blur of your reflection caught in the chest plate.

"Nein my lady, I do believe I only have enough energy to keep up with thee."

"You mean your name will not be attached to any maiden but myself?"

"That is correct. Should I use force and bring out my dagger, make it a point to the kingdom that I dare court the princess after a joust? Say the words and I shall." He joked and spun you, making you dip your head back.

"Oh König, you know I am a firm believer of knowledge before the blade."

He stilled for a moment, looking at you with earnest blue eyes. You were about to inquire what was suddenly the matter when it dawned on you what you had just exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon…. I did in fact not know that about you."

You flustered and shrugged as the other dancers proceeded to swell and dance around your still forms. "I uh, it is a common phrasing, is it not? One should be skilled in both, I am sure your squire would not mind giving you a tour in the archives. Should you pull out your blade you may as well bring out your quill as well." You tried to cover your tracks, it seemed to work as he was swaying a bit, getting into the groove of the dance once more.

"I suppose so. I have only heard my squire say such is all. And what shall I learn down there, hmm?"

"Perhaps the art of properly courting."

"Ouch! Oh how you wound me, a dagger to my side. That means I shall have to try harder to impress you then, princess. And I will."

….

You had been down in the libraries all evening, getting permission from König to do some light reading which of course meant you were pouring over that big book. The choice words, the incantations and spells were incredible. Written in a form you had you use your own magic to decipher, it took a few tries to figure out the meanings. Why were they written in the first place? If you know the casts, why keep them locked and in this two clasp book? If you are born of magic, like yourself, you would already have the knowledge, already gifted just needed to harness and control it.

You bit into your thumb while you deciphered the words in the air above you, kicked back, rocking dangerously on the back two legs of your chair.

Just then the doors burst open loudly, others studying shooshed the intruder and you could hear the clank of armored boots. Hurriedly you put the words back into the book just in case.

"Squire! There you are."

"Well yes sire, you told me I could study today."

"I think I have made a grave mistake."

"What have you done?" You asked and brought the chair back to its' original position.

He clanked and pulled out another chair, seating himself next to you, his helmet is in hands. "How old are you lad? Maybe fifteen?"

"I am all of sixteen, sire." Which is a complete farce as you are about double that, give or take a few months. "Why?"

"I figured. You have not yet begun courting young maidens. Do not follow my example as I made an absolute baffoon of myself last night at the ball. I did not mean to admit hidden feelings but I did so freely! How can I court her? What if she thinks I jest too much, I know how much she humors me with her wit but for the sake of my name and title, what shall I do?"

You looked confused. "Who did you make a mockery in front of? I did not see any such act. Was this behind closed doors?" Saliva had pooled in your mouth, had he admitted his admiration to some other beauty after your dances last night? Had you been actual slim pickings? Was he trying his best not to crush your feelings?

"You were there last night? Well my eyes were elsewhere I suppose. The princess, what must she think of me now? I dare not show my face to her. Well, you know what I mean, boy. I was in such a jovial mood I let my feelings out of their cage and for what? She is probably laughing about it with her friends. If word gets out--"

"What did you say to her, sire that would leave you in such a state?"

"I told her in not so many words that I plan on courting her! Impressing her! Showing off as if I have not been in love with her for years, how foolish of me, squire. What was I thinking? Jousting I can do with my eyes closed, protect the kingdom, no problem. Man the wall with the other Knights, tell me when and where. Battle, I have been to plenty and fought valiantly to see another day, clearly. But love, squire? I am but a pest." He clunked his helmet down on the long table.

You winced as you bit your tongue, watching your blood Knight pound his fist as if he were just a boy the age you were glamourized as. Not the recognized Knight all of Kortac and the surrounding realms and kingdoms knew of. He was in love with you? How dreadful it must've been to watch Kruger try to impress you, expressing himself with gestures.

"Sire, maybe this is not the best place to have this conversation," you shakily say, looking about the other knowledge seekers who were giving you two a dirty look. "Maybe your chambers?"

With a huff he lifted his heavy head and looked at you. "I suppose you are right, boy."

You felt incredibly small here, alone, with your Knight. His room was massive, tools of the trade, several sets of armor on display. Swords, some chipped from battle hung up above his bed in display, he did have a book or two set aside but their slipcovers looked a tad dusty. His bed was large and draped with several blankets, fluffed pillows too.

He sat at his desk, taking off his gloves and tapped where his mouth would be. "What should I do squire? What young man knowledge can you share with me if any?"

"I'm afraid I am not the right one to ask, um would you mind closing your eyes for a moment?" You held your hands behind your back, rocking on the balls of your feet.

"No funny business, or I'll take off your nose."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Just humor me a moment."

"Fine fine."

König sighed and shut his visor, you rubbed your hands together as you normal did to conjure up some magic. You took your time to reveal yourself, from the prickling, silly feeling at the crown of your skull to the ends of your feet, shimmering and fading away like balls of sand. Long gone was the boyish façade of leggings and a tattered cloak, replaced by your clean skin and dress.

"They don't have knowledge to share, but I do." Your voice came through and instantly König snapped his visor open and stood. "What are you doing here, my lady? Where is my squire? He was just here… are you in league with him?" König looked around his room, moving about, looking behind curtains, opening cupboards and closets, even the trunk at the end of his bed. Beneath it. Looking for a ghost with no name.

"I've been lying to you, König. It was the only way."

"The only way for what?" He said peeling back the curtains from his window again just to be certain.

Words bloomed and died on your tongue several times over before you finally came up with, "It was the only way I could get close to you unsupervised. No lady in waiting, no escort."

"What sort of trickery is this? Where is my squire, princess? He's here somewhere."

"I am your squire!"

"Prove yourself." He said and paused, waiting, standing still.

With a wave of your hand you transformed into his young apprentice, shock in his eyes. "See. I have been using glamour magic to conceal the truth, the faeries told me you are special and that I should look over you. I would be rewarded if I did and all that was was just an excuse to further our relationship."

"Why? Why go through the trouble?" He asked after being very visibly shocked that you were two in the same, one person, same thoughts, same actions. He came around the bed and looked down at you fumbling with your jewelry, twisting your rings, messing with your necklace. "I am just a Knight."

"Nein. You are not just some Knight König, you are my Knight and I am over the moon in love with you." You answered with a shrug when you changed back. "There was nothing to stop me."

"You love me?" König's voice wavered, on the very knifes edge of sounding accusatory. "Truly?"

"Incredibly so."

He inhaled deeply and walked past you, leaving you to look out one of his windows, you padded your way over to the high glass pane. KorTac was bustling, moving like ants in their hills and nests. Tears welled in your eyes when you did not hear him any further, left to sulk in your own dismay.

You had lied to him, pretended to be someone else entirely. Tempted to use magic, to quell your sorrow, maybe conjure up a storm so everyone know how pained you were in this moment. You may have lost him for good. You knew how filthy he thought liars were. Even if you did care for the Knight, your actions spoke volumes. Tomes the size of that book you so cleaved.

The door to his chamber creaked open, you couldn't hear his armor but instead came heavy footfalls followed by the locking of the door. "Do you mean it? The care you have for me? It is true?" His voice sounded different.

"Of course I mean it." You wiped at your eyes, tears had clumped your lashes together as you watch two little girls skip through the market below.

His footsteps pounded the floor, his hands rested on your shoulders and for the briefest of seconds, you caught his face in the glass of the window. You gasped.

"What are you doing?"

"If what you say is honest and true, turn around and face me."

You did, turning around you rocked on your feet seeing his bare face. The shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the bridge of his nose. All is revealed. He even smiled a little.

"You are handsome, no wonder you cover your face. Everyone would either wish to be you or to have sex with you!"

König snorted into a laugh. "Well thank you my lady, I have been called many things but handsome is not one of them." He smiled again, wider this time. "I can't believe I didn't realize it was you all this time, you kept your eyes and nose the same."

"I'm glad you didn't, I would be in quite some trouble."

"Certainly," König hummed and touched your face with the back of his hand, he'd never touched you like this before. He thumbs over your bottom lip and chin, tilting up your grinning face. "You are a very naughty girl. You have witnessed me shirtless on quite a few occasions over these last several months. Unchaperoned. How scandalous! And to think every time you went missing you were really with me."

"I was not complaining."

"Nein nein, my squire would do no such thing."

….

The first round of kisses were light and sweet, a hint of some sort of berry slipped into your mouth when he licked inside. His hands in your hair, cupping your face, holding your neck, ghosting over your collar as he wrapped you up in his arms.

It didn't feel strange or out of place when you pulled at the strings of your gown, letting it loosen around your shoulders before letting the garment pool around your feet. You stepped out of your flats, climbing on to his lap. The way his shift moved against your bare skin sent shivers up your back.

His large hands, used to battle and action, calloused and laced with past encounters felt warm against your back as he rocked you, laying back when you pushed at his chest.

"Are you in control, princess? Shall I give up all resolve?"

You only smirked and laid across him, brushing some stray strands of his hair behind his ear. "If you love me you will you let me."

"I would let you do unholy things to me." König admitted, tucking his hands behind his head as you moved down his form, lifting his shirt and mouthing over the skin you found in your wake. A large bruised on his ribs were nursed by your lips, kissing over the tapestry of scars that made him. He took it off soon after, helping you take off his trousers as well.

You stilled your hand above his groin, feeling the heat radiate off his conditioned body.

"Do I have your allowance?"

"You have every permission, princess."

You were overly full when you rose to fit him inside your cunt, already as mess of arousal. The noise he made when you sat, taking all of his length at your speed was incredible. You desperately needed to hear it, more of it. Apparently for König as well as he let out more sighs and moans of pleasure, grabbing your rocking hips and rolled you over with a hrmph.

He hissed through his teeth, "I can't take much more of that pace I'm afraid, my lady."

"Eager to fill me are you Knight?" You giggled, feeling him twitch inside you, he bent down and framed your head with his hands, pining your wrists to the bed.

"All night if you let me."

"Like you said," you leaned up and kisses him hard, flexing your hands. "I would let you do unholy acts to me."

That motivation is what got you pinned and fucked more than once that night. His thick cock slipping through your folds as if you were made for each other, he fit so snuggly. Your pussy trapped him, the praises he sang in your honor. How you sobbed his name when he thrusted into you, moving his hips as if he were riding Sapphire. The reverb of the meat of your ass when he finally rolled you over for a second round, bouncing and reveling in the way König's voice sounded almost watery against your ear.

I love you's in between sloppy kisses, the sharp pinch of teeth on flesh. You couldn't get enough. Yes your Knight was inside you, both of you moving as one, connected. Attached. The look in his eyes when he'd pull his cock out slowly only to push it back into your spongy, wet walls. You moved up the bed, the wood of the headboard bouncing gently with his thrusts.

"You are a naughty princess, haven't even properly courted you yet and here you are, balls fucking deep."

"Keep it up my love, you will cum for me once more."

"Can't believe you feel this fucking good. All our b-banter, our back and forth for this to turn into true love. I love you princess."

König held your throat while you rode him, moaning his name, scratching your nails down his arms. You leaned down, burrowing your face into this side of his sweaty neck, on instinct you licked some of it, delighted by König's groan and grab to your hip, you bit down, sucking on him.

You came again, holding on to him tight, the feeling of him bucking up into you, matching push and pull with a chase to climax together once more. You were already sticky, already filled up three times, as round after round had you two on the edge.

"One more princess, one more time for your Knight." König purred after digging his free hand into your hair, keeping you at his neck.

"I don't think I can! I am empty." You whined but kept fucking him.

"Nonsense princess, you are simply filled with me. Load after load you have taken. I am addicted to this pleasure you have wrought out of me."

It was then that you straightened up, leaning back enough to rub at your bundle of nerves, swollen still, dripping wet with hidden activities. König enjoyed the look of what you were doing to yourself, holding onto one of your breasts as you rubbed yourself faster, König could not take his eyes away.

"König please…. bitte I can't… I can't last… I'm--"

"I know it I know it, my love. I can feel you shaking, let it out for me bitte. Then we rest."

You felt it building up, your heart pounding in your chest, exhausted and incredibly satisfied. You could even hear how wet you were, how messy your pussy could sound. Messy with his cum and your arousal, thinking of yourself roaming your kingdom with his seed dripping down your unseen legs got you there. You toppled over, a fresh release of wetness and you were done for.

"One. Last. Time."

Slain by your own hand.

"Bless you princess, I knew you could do it." König groaned, finishing inside you for the fourth time, you were sure he was the empty one now. The morning light shone through his windows as you both laid there, holding hands and catching your breaths.

You laughed into his shoulder, sore but in the best and earned way possible. He kissed your forehead and tucked into your side. You were glad that you had listened to the fae, because you were clearly grateful and rewarded.

Tagging: @powerfultenderness @nepomami

[arthistoryanimalia]

#TurtleTuesday 🐢:

Turtle illustration in the Faraḥ nāmah (Farah’s encyclopedia of nature)

17th c. Persian manuscript created in Lucknow (India); text is copy of 12th c. treatise by al-Muṭahhar ibn Muḥammad al-Yazdi (fl. 1184).

Via LOC

“This Persian manuscript contains the text and accompanying illustrations of Faraḥ nāmah (Farah's encyclopedia of nature), also known by the title Ajayib al-dunya (Wonders of the world). The work is a treatise on natural history by al-Muṭahhar ibn Muḥammad al-Yazdi (flourished circa 1184). The manuscript was copied in the 17th century in a large Taliq script, and is illuminated with detailed multicolored illustrations of animals, birds, plants, rocks, and humans. Persian miniature painting was becoming a fine art genre in the 12th--13th centuries, and portrayal of the human figure was permitted in Islamic countries in lay contexts. The images here are in bright fresh colors, mostly in two dimensions, but occasionally with the suggestion of perspective. The very varied layout, with illustrations large and small in differing positions on the page and sometimes breaking through the text frame, gives the work great liveliness. The manuscript is at the Medical Historical Library in the Harvey Cushing/John Hay Whitney Medical Library, Yale University.”

[natkhat-sa-shyam]

kya ap single hai (jk) ..your description is so my type!!

|John keating from Dead poets society

this character has inspired me soo much in my life. Description ki baat hai to Kitabein, chai, purane gane, mountains and seaside has always attracted me more than anything else. someday i wanna open a library at mountains in nature's embrace..

[todaysdocument]

President Theodore Roosevelt's Declaration of Full Power to Secretary of State John Hay to Exchange Ratifications for the 1903 Isthmian Canal Treaty

Record Group 11: General Records of the United States GovernmentSeries: Perfected TreatiesFile Unit: Treaty Between the United States and Panama Providing for the Construction of a Ship Canal Across the Isthmus of Panama to Connect the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans

[Stamp] BUREAU OF ROLLS & LIBRARY FEB 26 1904 DEPARTMENT OF STATE [End Stamp] Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States of America, To all to whom these Presents shall come, Greeting: Know Ye, That I hereby authorize John Hay, Secretary of State of the United States, to effect with any person or persons duly authorized thereto by the Government of the Republic of Panama, the exchange of my ratification for that of the Government aforesaid, of the treaty between the United States and Panama providing for the construction of a ship canal to connect the waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, concluded at Washington, November 18, 1903. In Testimony whereof, I have caused the seal of the United States to be hereto affixed. Given under my hand at the City of Washington, the twenty-fourth day of February, in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and four, and of the Independence of the United States of America the one hundred and twenty-eighth. [Signed] Theodore Roosevelt By the President: [Signed] John Hay Secretary of State. [Penciled] #431

[mooseyspooky]

A historical or alternative historical fic idea with Moz as a much older wealthier man, a recluse more or less

He lives on a big estate, far away from everything. He has one or two servants, none of whom know him very well. He has a sustainable little field of crops maintained by the help.

A single, solitary cow that grazes the field whose milk gets made into all sorts of useful things. A few goats, a horse. And it's a quiet, very mundane life Moz lives.

Where he spends most of his days writing letters to Wilde and having one of his helpers mail them in the nearest town, and of course none of the letters get replies but Moz continues to write him pages and pages about life and everything else

Then one day Moz looks out his first floor window. And there at the gate along the dirt road leaning up against the stone wall is this filthy, underfed urchin. His hair is long and tangled. His hands are dirty, but the strange thing is - he's dressed quite well. The clothes hang off him, but they are quite stylish for the time.

He's smoking a cigarette and staring down the road. And when he looks up and catches Moz' eye, the smile he shoots him makes the sun look less radiant. Moz immediately closes the curtain, withdraws deeper into the room.

But minutes later the door flies open and there's this filthy child staring at him while the maid fusses at him and tells him to take off his muddy shoes at least - if he's going to be barging in uninvited and making a mess.

He doesn't smell great, either. Moz immediately puts his handkerchief to his nose to abate the smell.

And this boy, who's so thin he could be snapped in two by the slightest breeze, says he's looking for work. Work and a place to sleep. Moz says no, nothing like that here. There's nothing for you here go away.

But the boy is insistent. Johnny, he says. Johnny's my name. And don't you need someone to clean the barn? Moz says as long as you'll leave me alone, then yes.

John Maher. 16 years old, and sleeping in his barn. Did he ever even have parents?

The maid being like christ even if you're sleeping in the barn you're too disgusting and you reek. Making Johnny get the water out the well to fill the tub and pull it in front of the fire. Moz watches quietly from the doorway as she scrubs the boy down like a muddy unwanted dog.

And it's startling because under the filth is a boy with bright brown eyes and messy black hair, most of which the maid cuts off to get the mats out. But he's stunning. Otherworldly almost. His underfed frame suits him.

The hollows of his cheeks, the severe dip of his ribs. The maid doesn't have many clothes around that would fit him, she'll have to sew something for him the next day. So for now he's put in one of Moz' long linen shirts and a thick pair of socks and a pair of loose trousers with a belt wrapped around his tiny waist a few times.

He lounges on Moz' furniture all night, looks through dozens of his books, and smokes at least two dozen cigarettes. All while Moz watches silently, without a word. Standing in the doorway in total fascination.

And Johnny of course doesn't really know how to read, so he keeps sounding out all the words and trying to figure it out and Moz will mumble it and Johnny will parrot him. And so this goes on day after day. Moz will be sat in his library, comfortably flipping through something and Johnny will pop up behind him like a phantom, smelling of animal dung and hay and cigarettes and sweat and be like what's this mean?

And Moz will be like your living quarters is in the barn not my library. I don't even pay you. And Johnny just sits down, staining the furniture and making the maid furious.

So Johnny has House Clothes he has to change into whenever he leaves the barn or the maid will actually murder him. Just absolutely skin him alive. But that's a problem cause Johnny just comes in wearing a loose top that shows off his shoulders and trousers that slip down and show off his hips.

And Moz has just entered his 40th year, he can't be looking at John in that way, he's still too young. And more than that, a young man. Not a young woman. But Moz will clutch Johnny's filthy unwashed clothes to his face late into the night and shiver. Has to stop himself from staining them with something humiliating.

Because Johnny is far more clever than you'd expect. He's bright, he's studious, he loves to catch Moz singing in the garden when he's doing the weeding so the other hired help won't have to. He's incredibly kind, he's almost unnaturally gifted with the animals. Moz isn't sure where this young man came from or where he's going. But he wants him so badly.

God but Johnny is such a mischief maker, he loves to tease Moz in the worst ways possible and it drives Moz mad. His favorite tea cup goes missing, has to go fetch it from the horse stable. He goes out to the garden and Johnny's left his things in front of the door, nearly causing him to fall. He gets his dirty hands all over the place.

And Moz doesn't even mean for it, not really. But Johnny takes the last cup of fresh yoghurt from the ice box right in front of him, starts to eat it with a smile saying he's perfectly within his rights to do it. Moz isn't violent of course, he abhors it really but as Johnny's walking away Moz shoves him against the worktop. The yoghurt near falls to the floor, barely makes it on the counter, but a good size drop of it is on the floor and the silence between them could span an ocean

Johnny's breathing slow and steady, perfectly calm despite being shoved against a counter by a man much older than him and double him in size. And Moz silently points to the ground, says firmly, with no room for argument, that Johnny must clean that up. That the maid isn't going to keep wiping up after him and washing the furniture everytime he comes in from the barn.

Johnny squares his shoulders up, juts his chin out, gives him a dismissive sniff and says nah, no. It's not my fault issit. You pushed me. You clean it up. And Moz rarely feels truly outraged about much, there's little that really irks him, but he takes a seat at the dinner table, dragging Johnny by the hair, and hoists him over his lap like his father did to him a hundred times. But those moments were far more frightening.

Johnny's backside had been all he'd been thinking about these past several weeks and to have it now, presented to him and with untethered access. It makes his heart feel too tight. His throat feels closed up. But he can't show that weakness.

He slams his hand down and readies for another but Johnny isn't struggling. He's panting and flushed and a slight shift gives away how aroused he is, and Moz is unable to move a single muscle. This isn't what he intended. None of this is what he intended.

And Johnny slinks to the floor, crawls unsteadily to the mess he made on the floor and licks it clean, looks to him for approval, like such a thing was what Moz expected - and Moz will either embarrass himself now or suffer the indignity in private so he just halfway nods in approval, says something indistinct then flees to the bedroom to hide his shame. Because he'd never felt such a burning need to have the touch of another man. Of a boy, really, barely old enough to know how to read, a boy who he knows nothing about. Who showed up, and slowly crept into every crevice of his life.

It's sheer madness, perhaps the devil himself in disguise, preying upon his lost faith.

[soniahdavis]

The Milliner and the Spy

Soundtrack: Oppenheimer (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) by Ludwig Göransson. Box-folder 1:2-33; 2:1-11, Correspondence, 1933-1975, McHenry Library, UC Santa Cruz, CA. Please do convey my love and aloha to Mother Davis—I always have and will have my warm regards for her. Kilsoo K. Haan to Nathaniel A. Davis, October 4, 1942, John Hay Library, Providence, R.I. One would think spy espionage…

[fibula-rasa]

Seen in ’23: Annual Roundup

Top new-to-me films of ‘23 

(in the order I saw them, not preference)

The Blizzard / Gunnar Hedes saga (1923) [imdb | letterboxd]

The Rafter’s Bride / Koskenlaskijan morsian (1923) [imdb | letterboxd]

Funeral Parade of Roses / 薔薇の葬列 (1969) [letterboxd | imdb]

Dorian Gray in the Mirror of the Yellow Press / Dorian Gray im Spiegel der Boulevardpresse (1984) [letterboxd | imdb]

Drylongso (1998) [letterboxd | imdb]

The Cruz Brothers and Miss Malloy (1980) [letterboxd | imdb]

The Burning Crucible / Le Brasier ardent (1923) [letterboxd | imdb]

Let’s Scare Jessica to Death (1971) [letterboxd | imdb]

Merry-Go-Round (1923) [letterboxd | imdb]

Dream Demon (1988) [letterboxd | imdb]

Mazel Tov / Ost und West (1923) [letterboxd | imdb]

The Signal Tower (1924) [letterboxd | imdb]

The Second Track / Das zweite Gleis (1962) [letterboxd | imdb]

Restless Blood / Levoton Veri (1946) [letterboxd | imdb]

The Man Without Desire (1923) [letterboxd | imdb]

Revolutionary Girl Utena: The Adolescence of Utena / 少女革命ウテナ アドゥレセンス黙示録 (1999) [letterboxd | imdb]

---

Honorable mention:

Ritratto di donna velata (1972) [letterboxd | imdb] (because it’s technically a mini-series)

Spirits of the Dead / Histoires extraordinaires (1968) [letterboxd | imdb] (because it would make the year-end list for “Toby Dammit” alone TBH)

So, according to letterboxd, only 33% of the films I watched in 2023 were rewatches. In an unexpected bit of consistency, that’s also my proportion of rewatches for ‘22 and ‘21. Sometimes crunching the numbers teaches you potentially meaningless things about yourself.

On my letterboxd, I put together a list of my top new-to-me films of ’23, in case you want an easier way to check if there’s anything you might want to add to your own watchlists!

READ ON BELOW THE JUMP!

As I continued my tradition of watching films as they turn 100, the 1920s was my most-watched decade as it was in 2022.

I was startled looking at the stats that the 1930s were so underrepresented! To ward that off in 2024, I think I’ll binge some pre-codes. Maybe we should all watch pre-codes in March 2024 to dishonor Will Hays on his birthday?

My top individual years were:

1923

1987

1986

1920

1911

1971 (unexpected!) 

1988

---

In another bit of unexpected consistency, I seem to have watched roughly 60% American-made films every year for the last 3 years?

Regardless, I think my MVP for this year was Finland. Teuvo Tulio is quickly becoming one of my favorite directors and the silent films from Finland that I watched this year were highlights too!

---

My most watched actors for 2023 were:

Alice Howell

James Finlayson

Stan Laurel

Snub Pollard

Katherine Grant

Marie Mosquini

Christopher Lee

Jackie Cooper

Lois Weber

Mabel Normand

Noah Young

Oliver Hardy

Richard Smith

Can you tell that I watched a ton of silent comedy in 2023? Of course Marie and Snub are making a return appearance here from last year, so I suppose I watched plenty of comedy shorts in ‘22 as well.

If you were only to count the feature films that I watched, Christopher Lee, Boris Karloff, Douglas Fairbanks, Vincent Price, and William Haines would top the list!

---

My most watched directors were:

Alice Guy

Dave Fleischer

George Jeske

Arthur Rankin Jr. & Jules Bass

Charley Chase

John G. Blystone

Lois Weber

Richard Smith

Maya Deren

Phillips Smalley

Another affirmation that I watched a whole lot of silent shorts, but this time because of the fantastic Pioneers: First Women Filmmakers set. I highly recommend picking up a copy (or checking it out of your local library). Not only is the set well curated, but there are so many great extras to put the films in context. 

For Christmas ‘23, I got the Cinema’s First Nasty Women set and I’m very excited to marathon those and be influenced into a year of behaving badly.

Maya Deren makes the list because I re-watched her films in advance of my cosplay/profile of her. If you haven’t dug into Deren’s short but fascinating filmography yet, I highly recommend it!

[hplovecraftmuseum]

Through the Gates of the Silver Key was one of the most complex and intricately composed of all of Lovecraft's fictional creations. The idea for the story was pushed on Lovecraft by fellow writer and friend E. Hoffmann Price. Price had always been enthused with Lovecraft's story THE SILVER KEY and wanted HPL to write a sequel to it. Lovecraft was not anxious to comply. His fictional alter-ego character, Randolph Carter, hero of several previous "Dreamland" tales was basically a completed concept for Lovecraft. Carter was featured in HPL's more fanciful and less horrific tales. These stories, particularly THE DREAM QUEST OF UNKNOWN KADATH, were written by Lovecraft in his somewhat derivative 'Dunsanian Style'. By that of course we are talking about the style of the great fantasy writer, Lord Dundany of Great Britain. Though Dunsany and Poe were the greatest influences on Lovecraft's fiction, he was hoping to move into a harder, more serious, and more purely horrific mode when THE SILVER KEY and 'DREAM QUEST' were completed. Still, Price badgered Lovecraft to create a sequel that would more definitely resolve the Randolph Carter character's fate. Lovecraft put the project off for as long as he could. Price sent him a rough outline of his own idea for the story. I read this rough draft at the John Hay Library in Providence years ago. And when I say it was 'rough' it's an understatement! Lovecraft changed all but 50 words of the Price outline. Despite his dissatisfaction with the project from the beginning, HPL went on to create one of the most complex and esoteric tales of his whole creative life. THROUGH THE GATES OF THE SILVER KEY has probably been overlooked because of its very complexity. Lovecraft pretty much abandoned his Dunsanian style for the tale and instead delves into all manner of Far Eastern and Theosophist ideas throwing in reincarnation, astral projection, cosmic Archetypes, and esoteric Buddhism, to boot. Even his own YOG-SOTHOTH makes a reimagined appearance as a sort of ultimate cosmic brain in which all creative minds in the universe are tiny cells. Yeah, it gets wild! A difficult read for anybody, THROUGH THE GATES OF THE SILVER KEY will probably never be anyone's favorite among Lovecraft's tales. Lovecraft himself was unhappy with the finished product, and when Price tried to encourage HPL to write a sequel to this sequel, Lovecraft begged out of the idea. Now though Randolph Carter is generally thought to be an obvious alter ego for Lovecraft another character in Through the Gates of the Silver Key is introduced that fits the bill as well. This man, Mr. Ward Phillips, is a "mystic" from Providence, RI who was also a friend of Randolph Carter - Carter is from Boston Mass. At one point Lovecraft writes: "As de Marigny paused, old Mr. Phillips spoke in a hash, shrill voice." Now Lovecraft himself was known for his high- pitched, almost falsetto tone of speech. Lovecraft made a wax recording of his own voice at one point and was so disdainful of the playback that the wax recording was "accidentally" dropped. The device shattered into pieces! (Exhibit 578)

[theirmarks]

Momoho. 

Eastern Pequot Sachem. Their home in and around the places today called “Mystic, Connecticut” and “Stonington, Connecticut.”

Momoho’s signed name appearing here on an October 1, 1676 appeal to the General Court of Connecticut, petitioning the court for access to hunting grounds, winter clothing, and wampum owed.

Seen at the John Hay Library, Providence, RI.

Some kin: Father, Tatobem. A daughter, Oskoosooduck (or Mary Momoho, Mary Ninigret or Mary Sowas). Sons, Wootagonkquam, Cutshamakin.

[mi6011jesspark]

THE FIRST KISS CAUGHT ON FILM

I found this footage while researching kissing (that phrasing sounds odd). Being the film nerd that i am, it was really fun to see the "first kiss caught on screen" and finding the backstory of how it came to be.

it is said that this footage is of an 18 second film, one of the first ever shows commercially to the public. it is a reenactment of the kiss between actors May Irwin and John Rice, during the final scene of a stage play musical called "The widow Jones".

The film was deemed significant to culture, by the US Library of Congress and was preserved within the National Film Registry.

The film was shocking to viewers of the time of its release, this is most likely due to the Hays code, which censored Hollywood throughout 1934 to 1968. The hays code was a set of guide lines placed upon Hollywood by Hollywood. Studios regulated their content as a way to avoid censorship imposed by the church. Content deemed as inappropriate wasn't showed on screen. such rules outlined that substance abuse, violence, sexual acts and homosexuality were all cast away from the screen.

This meant that sexual activity (which translated to even kissing) wasnt frequently shown on screen, therefore it was shocking to viewers to see it in this context.

one critic wrote

"The spectacle of the prolonged pasturing on each other’s lips was beastly enough in life size on the stage but magnified to gargantuan proportions and repeated three times over it is absolutely disgusting.”

This shows how the audiences received this footage quite clearly. i wanted to include this clip within my animation, not only because it fit into my "found assets aesthetic" but due to this audience initial reception.

I feel that this clip and its context fit within another scene, displaying how sexual activity on screen has been shunned, which may have lead to the shaming of women's expression of sexual desire.

[1900scartoons]

The Quest Of a Scientific Agriculturist

December 31, 1908

In the first panel 'The Board of Regents start out to find a Scientific Agriculturalist for Dean of the Farm School' a group of men look around with binoculars and telescope, ignoring the Scientific Agriculturalist next to them. In the second panel, 'They search diligently, High and Low, without success - for about a minute' They continue to look around, ignoring the Agriculturalist right next to them. One says "I thought I saw one over here." In the third panel, 'They become discouraged -' He stands in their midst, as they look around and one says "They seem scarce" In the final panel 'But at last discover one of their own number, for the third time.' The agriculturalist storms off with his Diploma and Credentials, as the men crowd around one of their own and hand him the Dean of the School of Agriculture. They say "Good work" "Eureka!" "What, Me?"

The University of Minnesota was conducting a search to replace the current Dean of Agriculture. John W. Olsen, Superintendent of Public Instruction and a regent on the selection committee, was favored by some members of the committee. W. M. Hays, the Assistant Secretary of Agriculture in Washington, D.C. and a former member of the University of Minnesota's faculty, was the other candidate being considered, according to the Minneapolis Tribune on December 29.

From Hennepin County Library

Original available at: https://digitalcollections.hclib.org/digital/collection/Bart/id/6429/rec/2177

[cyberbenb]

The hypocrisy of China’s Russian border disputes

Editor’s Note: This is our monthly supplemental issue on Taiwan! We believe that empathy and authoritarianism can’t mix – that when we tell deeply-reported human stories of people threatened by dictators, it compels people to act against injustice.

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The war in Ukraine has bound China and Russia closer together.

But just under the surface, a long history of border disputes between the two lies momentarily dormant. With nationalism ascendant in both countries, it’s a potential wedge issue that could push the two nations apart.

Last summer, a video of a stone slab covered in Chinese characters that was discovered by tourists in Vladivostok, Russia, went viral on Chinese social media.

It was evidence that the modern-day city of Vladivostok had been part of Chinese territory up until the mid 1800s, during the Qing dynasty – and revealed the controversial history between the two countries.

The fact that Russia and China have often exchanged territory throughout their histories also highlights the problems with the narrative that Taiwan is part of China’s territory.

“If China's claims on Taiwan are about territorial integrity then it should also take back land from Russia signed over by the last Chinese dynasty in the 19th century,” said Taiwan President Lai Ching-te in an interview with Taiwanese media this September.

Both yellow and red areas belonged to China before 1860. Photo Credit: Wikipedia/ CIA - Library of Congress Geography and Map Division Washington, D.C.

In 1860, after the Second Opium War, China and Russia signed the Convention of Peking, which transferred 400,000 square kilometers of Chinese territory to Russia, including Sakhalin and Vladivostok. More recently, Vladivostok was the Russian military port where North Korean soldiers were trained for fighting in Ukraine.

Even today, Chinese people, including migrants living in Taiwan, still call Vladivostok its old name, Hai Shen Wei (海參崴) – and its history has become like a fishbone stuck in their throats.

John Slava Pei lived in Vladivostok for several years.

John Slava Pei is one of the very few Taiwanese people who has lived in Vladivostok, and has seen the stone slab – known as a stele – with his own eyes. John, who even has a Russian name, Слава, lived in the city for several years before returning to Taiwan.

(Other tourists took pictures of the stone slab and searched for the original script. Photo credit: 牡丹江筆談. )

He told the Counteroffensive about the stele’s meaning, and how it came to be in Vladivostok.

In 1899, the Boxer Rebellion began. It was a civilian uprising that had the Qing emperor’s blessing, which aimed to force foreigners out of China. More than ten thousand foreign businessmen, officials, and missionaries were killed.

The bloody revolt ended after a war with the Eight-Nation Alliance, which included Russia. During the fighting, the Russians gained the upper hand, leading the Chinese to commission a tribute in their honour, pledging allegiance.

Modern Russians in Vladivostok seem not to care much about the stele, John Slava Pei said. It has been left for over 120 years without any cover that would shelter it from the sun or rain, which has meant that some of the carved words have been eroded.

“I think the Russians didn’t understand much about what it says, so they just left the stele there,” said John. He then showed me pictures he had taken of other heritage the Chinese had left in Russia, displaying connections that many choose to forget.

Yongning Temple Steles, from 1413. Photo credit: John Slava Pei.

The Ussuriysk Stone Tortoise was built in the 12th century. Photo credit: John Slava Pei.

“You can tell from these pieces of evidence that this place used to belong to China,” John said. The place has changed, but the Chinese influence is everywhere. “You see the Russian structures, signs, and culture all over Vladivostok but also with some Asian elements.”

When he was living in Russia, John visited Chinese sites near his home. In Ussuriysk, a town near Vladivostok that is similarly close to the Russian border, there is a Chinese Stone Tortoise from the 12th Century sitting in a local park.

In Vladivostok, he also visited the Vladimir K. Arseniev Museum of Far East History to witness the famous Yongning Temple Steles. Chinese officials in the Ming Dynasty built the Yongning Temple Steles in record of an official tour in 1413, showing the territory was under China’s control. The Russian have kept them since they took the land.

The shared history continued into modern times. With the Soviet Union’s support, Mao Zedong declared the formation of the People’s Republic of China on October 1st, 1949. The Soviets confirmed the diplomatic relationship with the CCP the next day, and signed the Sino-Soviet Treaty of Friendship, Alliance, and Mutual Assistance in 1950.

Even after that, many in Taiwan and China hoped to take back territory that had been given away to the Russians. John’s father was a Chinese migrant who served with Chiang Kai-Shek‘s nationalist army in the 1950s, and had a strong will to make China “united.”

The patriotic passion was passed on to John. “I remember the first time I went to Vladivostok. I pulled out our national flag and yelled, ‘Return Vladivostok!‘” laughed John with embarrassment. “It was so stupid.”

As the 20th century wore on, relations between China and the Soviet Union soured. The two countries had different visions of Communism, and the Sino-Soviet split formed

In 1969, tensions ultimately turned into a serious border conflict near Damansky (Zhenbao) Island, which petered out before it became full blown war. After Richard Nixon's official visit to China in 1972, China became more closely aligned with the US.

Although the CCP didn’t have the best relationship with the Soviets, they never tried to negotiate the return of Vladivostok, as far the official record shows. It is hard to dispute that Vladivostok belongs to Russia now. And border agreements have been mostly settled.

The monument of general Nikolay Muravyov-Amursky, who facilitated the Treaty of Aigun and seized Vladivostok from China. Photo credit: John Slava Pei.

After the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, China and Russia have tried to show the world that they’ve moved on by using Vladivostok as merely a naval base. Those modern connections are what brought John to the city.

After hosting an Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation forum in Vladivostok in 2012, Russian President Putin announced a plan to help the city grow by building its first-ever casino. Vladivostok hoped to attract tourists from everywhere, but especially from China.

Before he came to Vladivostok, John was working as a Russian translator.

“I was probably a Russian in my past life,” he quipped. He recalled his second year at university, debating what language to choose as his second major. “I didn’t want to learn popular languages so I thought about choosing Turkish or Korean, but their department was on the fourth floor. I passed the third floor and saw the Russian department. I walked in and registered for the courses.”

In 2016, a shareholder in Vladivostok casino, a Taiwanese company named Firich Enterprises – which built the casino’s slot machines – recruited John. He packed his luggage and moved to Vladivostok right away.

John worked at the Tigre de Cristal casino.

John was in charge of translating and managing tours for guests staying at the casino, be they Russian or Chinese. With his history major background, it was something close to his dream job. Sadly, he couldn’t bear being separated from his family for too long and moved back to Taiwan in 2019, right before Covid.

After John’s return, the Ukraine war began a new phase in Chinese-Russian relations. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, it has increasingly been relying on China’s economic and military support. The current Chinese Premier Li Qiang visited Moscow in August and claimed that “Chinese-Russian relations are at an unprecedentedly high level.”

Due to their support for Russia’s war in Ukraine, China has paved the way for Russian support if they invade Taiwan. In fact, Russia has claimed that Taiwan is part of China multiple times.

But underlying all this are centuries of more complex relations. Politicians from both countries prefer not to mention their historical conflicts, so they ignore the handful of Chinese influencers who have tried to trace the tensions online.

Living in Taiwan now with his family, John understands better than most people that one way to handle divided politics is to brush it under the carpet.

He and his wife avoid discussing political issues because their family supports different political parties in Taiwan.

“There isn’t really much to talk about,” said John. The harmony of the family is more important.

Sometimes it’s better not to touch the trigger that would upset both sides.

NEWS OF THE DAY:

Good morning to readers; Kyiv remains in Ukrainian hands. Tim says hi from Taipei, where he’s reporting out a couple stories.

CYBERATTACKS ON TAIWAN DOUBLED IN 2024: Up to 2.4 million cyberattacks occur daily, mostly from Chinese hackers. More than 80 percent of attacks targeted government agencies, and attacks on telecommunications (+650 percent), transport (+70 percent), and defence supplies (+57 percent) increased significantly.

VENEZUELA DETAINS THREE UKRAINIANS, ACCUSED THEM OF ‘TERROR’: Along with the Ukrainians, two U.S. citizens and two Colombians were detained, all over similar accusations. Maduro stated that the group planned to attack Venezuela, but did not provide evidence. The Ukrainian Ministry of Foreign Affairs has not commented on the situation yet.

PUTIN'S WAR ECONOMY OF 2025 IS IN TROUBLE: President Vladimir Putin's invasion of Ukraine sparked economic growth in Russia based on government stimulus. Nearly three years later, there are signs that it is time to pay the bills.

Russia faces sanctions, a recent currency devaluation, an unclear outlook for oil prices, and the prospect that its largest trading partner, China, will not be able to shake off serious economic problems on its own.

The central bank predicts a sharp drop in growth to 0.5% in 2025, down from last year's forecast of 3.5-4%, and inflation will not return to the 4% target until 2026.

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REPORTER’S NOTEBOOK:

Hi, it’s Elaine here.

It’s been a few weeks since the American election and the world is slowly processing it. While many foreign countries are wary about Trump’s return, Taiwan has conflicted emotions.

In 2020, Taiwan led amongst Asian-Pacific countries in its support for Trump, favoring him with 42 percent support over Biden’s 30 percent. Trump’s anti-China policies are comforting to the Taiwanese who’ve suffered from years of bullying from their neighbour.

As he prepares to return to the White House, Trump hasn’t disappointed the Taiwanese. He named Sen. Marco Rubio as his Secretary of State, a man who China sanctioned.

The video above shows a few Taiwanese restaurants offering discounts for all meals of the day to celebrate Trump’s win. “Trump wins so the price of food supply can drop,” claimed one of the restaurant owners.

Data from Taiwan Minister of Agriculture. The right side shows the top countries where Taiwan imported goods from during the period January to October 2024. The USA remains the larges in the category with more than 21% of all imports.

Whether the restaurant owner is right and food prices will drop remains to be seen. Taiwan imports most of its grains from the US and South America, and not from Europe. Despite this, Taiwan was affected by the rise in world grain prices thanks to the war in Ukraine. Many hope an end to the war could lower grain prices.

However, according to Statista, the price of wheat, the main grain exported from Ukraine, has already been dropping steadily since last year. In fact, the grain inflation caused by the Ukraine War has had a limited impact on Taiwan – far less than the effects of the pandemic.

But some of Trump’s pronouncements suggest he could have a negative effect on Taiwan’s economy. Last year, Trump made a statement accusing Taiwanese chip companies of stealing business from America. Since then, the media has been speculating that the new TSMC factory in Arizona, which is the biggest Taiwanese chip manufacturing company, won’t get the funding promised by the Biden administration’s Chip Act.

In response, the Taiwanese opposition voices have hit back at Trump. Taiwan Plus, the national Taiwanese channel that broadcasts in English, called the elected president Donald Trump a convicted felon while reporting the US election.

Taiwan Plus’s pronouncements caused controversy, and Minister of Culture Li Yuan was questioned by Congress. He pointed out that it is common for Western media to discuss Trump’s ongoing criminal cases, claiming that “foreign journalists have different points of view than the Taiwanese media, and there is a gap between them”.

But many in Taiwan do not want to see criticism of Trump. One congressman from the Kuomintang party, Lo Chih-Chiang, criticized Taiwan Plus for “holding Taiwan back on diplomacy”.

Throughout all this, the incoming president's stance on the Ukraine War remains a strong factor in how Taiwanese people feel about Trump. Some worry that Taiwan would become a pawn for Trump in international diplomacy, and that he could “sell out” Taiwan as people speculate what he could do to Ukraine.

Some Taiwanese hope that business links are the way to keep good relations with Trump. Many believe the “silicon shield” of TSMC, with its most advanced chip manufacturing method, could protect Taiwan from China’s invasion and retain American support.

But at the same time, TSMC plans to expand its productivity in the US, speculation that the firm might lose its market advantage has been all over the Taiwanese media. Once America is capable of producing its own chips, some fear Taiwan may lose Trump’s interest and support.

DOG OF PEACE:

Today’s dog of peace is this little pup that belongs to John and his wife, who is pictured here meeting a local celebrity Sonia Sui.

I told John the puppy was attracted to her beauty. He told me it was because of the food.

What do you think?

Stay safe out there.

Best,

Elaine

[dankusner]

THE STATE

A labor of McMurtry love

Texas author’s Archer City bookstore to become a literary center, gathering place

Pulitzer Prize-winning author Larry McMurtry, seen here at his Archer City bookstore in 2012, died in 2021. But the Archer City Writers Workshop wants to preserve his legacy by making the Booked Up shop into the Larry McMurtry Literary Center.

The effort is headed up by George Getschow (bottom right, with McMurtry), who also hopes some of the author’s personal furnishings that were dispersed in an auction might be loaned for exhibit.

During his 84 years, Texas writer Larry McMurtry lived in many more sophisticated places than the one where he grew up.

But his hometown of Archer City was the place that produced and shaped him, and it kept calling him back no matter how far he roamed.

Archer City, not coincidentally, also informed many of the dozens of books and screenplays he produced over the 60 years of his much-lauded writing career, such as The Last Picture Show .

One of his books, Lonesome Dove , was the blockbuster 1985 Western novel that won McMurtry the Pulitzer Prize and boosted him to superstar status.

But the writer, who drolly called himself a “minor regional novelist,” didn’t take his fame all that seriously.

Furthermore, he said Lonesome Dove was “a pretty good book” but not, in his considered opinion, a masterpiece.

(Millions of readers would politely disagree.)

McMurtry also spent 50 years as an antiquarian bookseller, opening his original store, Booked Up, in 1971 in the historic Georgetown neighborhood of Washington, D.C.

In the 1980s, he decided to open another Booked Up, this one in downtown Archer City.

He eventually filled four gigantic, book-stuffed storefronts there, hoping to make Archer City an attraction for road-tripping book lovers, modeled after Hay-on-Wye in Wales.

Left to himself, his friends said, McMurtry would either be writing books or he would be buying books, and he did both with assiduity.

Eventually, he amassed hundreds of thousands of books that were housed at Booked Up, as well as thousands more volumes in his personal collection, kept at home in his Archer City mansion and its carriage house.

After McMurtry’s death in March 2021, TV’s Fixer Upper power couple Chip and Joanna Gaines purchased Booked Up and moved about 10,000 of its vintage volumes to decorate their new Hotel 1928 in Waco.

Recently, the Gaineses sold Booked Up to the Archer City Writers Workshop. Now, a big idea with enthusiastic local support promises to bring major changes — and thousands of visitors — to McMurtry’s hometown.

As you read this, an energetic group of bookish folks has just completed moving 80,000 of McMurtry’s books across Archer City’s South Central Avenue, from Booked Up No. 2 to Booked Up No. 1.

They plan to turn No. 1 into the Larry McMurtry Literary Center, which will be the first such public institution to preserve an author’s legacy in Texas.

“Larry called this place his ‘temple of books,’” says George

Getschow, who is heading up the project with the Archer City Writers Workshop.

“It was his sacred place.”

Archer City already has one official Larry McMurtry Literary Landmark in the town’s public library that McMurtry supported with a major gift;

it is one of several Texas libraries given the landmark designation in honor of a local person.

But Getschow, the director emeritus of the Mayborn Literary Nonfiction Conference at the University of North Texas, envisions the literary center as something bigger: the kind of library and gathering place that already exists in a dozen other cities to draw fans of American writers like Mark Twain, John Steinbeck, Eudora Welty, Emily Dickinson, Willa Cather, Nathaniel Hawthorne and Jack Kerouac.

Furthermore, Getschow says, the center will feature McMurtry’s separate, private collection of 27,000 books from his carriage house, volumes that were acquired by Dallas bookman James Gannon.

There will be listening stations for recorded books, revolving exhibits examining different aspects of the author’s life and work, and the writers workshop’s regular gatherings will move over from the group’s current base at the Spur Hotel.

Visitors will be able to buy selected books from the collections, and copies of McMurtry’s publications will be available in the gift shop, along with T-shirts, tote bags and souvenirs.

“I’m thinking we should have some little blue pigs,” Getschow says, alluding to the rattlesnake-eating porkers that appear in the opening lines of Lonesome Dove .

But before all that can happen, there is much work to be done.

Now that the books are moved over, Booked Up No. 1 will undergo urgent repairs and rehabbing to make it clean, powered-up and water-tight, a project that has support from the city.

Later, bookshelves will be brought in, and HVAC systems will be installed.

Getschow is also hoping to retrieve at least some of McMurtry’s personal furnishings, such as his desk, chair and typewriter, pieces that were dispersed in an auction but might be loaned for exhibit if the new owners are amenable.

Untold months of planning and execution lie ahead, but for Getschow and the Archer City Writers Workshop, this is a labor of love.

“I’m devoting the final years of my life to developing this,” the 74-year-old says.

[gradstudentdrone]

"Why does he always have to bring it back to colonialism?" Papa & the political lessons he tried to teach me

"From the belly of the best, hands-off the Middle East!"

This Saturday, I was with other protestors in front of the White House calling for a free Palestine, a permanent ceasefire, and the need to hold the US war machine accountable for its acts of aggression. While chanting and marching and listening to speeches, hazy memories of the lessons that my dad tried to teach me about colonialism came to me, unbidden:

I was 9 or 10 when listening to long-running debates between my dad and his dad, my Lolo Leon, and also my dad and his father-in-law, my Lolo Turong, about whether the Philippines should continue allowing the United States to operate military bases in the Philippines. Like a sponge, I paid attention to what was being said, only half-understanding the context but nevertheless riveted by all these male elders - all lawyers, all opinionated, all convinced that they were correct - eloquently refuting each other. I liked being in these 'male' spaces where politics was discussed: it was way better being here than watching Filipino daytime variety shows like Eat Bulaga! with the others. My dad was unwavering in his conviction that the US military bases had to be vacated and that the so-called security protections that the US provided were non-existent. I remember being confused about what they meant. Why was my dad so adamant that the Philippines needed to get rid of Americans? Why was he so upset about their continued presence - shouldn't we be grateful to Americans like Douglas MacArthur, who 'liberated' the Philippines? Wasn't this what my history teacher taught us? Later, as I thought of these discussions, I soon became worried what the US departure would mean for me. Specifically, I worried about accessing the amenities at Camp John Hay in Baguio - historically a US military reservation - where we regularly went for summer vacations. If the US military left, does this mean that the really cool, US-style ice cream parlor that served yummy sundaes would be gone too? How about mini-golf? Also, what about Subic Bay? If the Americans left, then where else would we get cheap American goods, like the Kraft Dinner mac and cheese that I loved so much? I decided right then and there that my dad was wrong and that I wanted the US to stay in the Philippines. (I can't believe I was a little imperialist, all for the sake of maintaining my access to American-style ice cream sundaes and KD).

In my grade 9 social studies class, we were studying the 'Arab-Israeli' war. A major class assignment was for all members of the class to take part in a role-play, brokering peace negotiations. I was assigned to be Yasser Arafat, trying to work out a settlement with Yitzhak Rabin. We each had to deliver speeches, role playing the historical figure we were assigned. My dad learned about the assignment and was excited. However, when he saw the books I had checked out from the library, he was dismayed. He said that these books did not appropriately give credence to Palestinian struggles. He picked one up, read a chapter, looked at the book jacket and threw the book on the floor, furious. "These books only tell part of the history," he said forcefully,"These are selective! This is propaganda!" Being thirteen and generally inclined to do the exact opposite of what my parents advised, I rolled my eyes: was my dad truly saying that he knew more than the writers of these books? That he knew more than my teacher? (Note to readers: this was exactly what he was saying - my dad was well-read and kept up-to-date with political affairs and in a different life would've pursued his PhD in political science). I only partially listened as he spoke, tuning out while he talked about colonialism and occupation. Why does he always have to bring up colonialism?, I internally fumed. Later, as I wrote my speech as Arafat, my dad decided that he would provide annotated speaking notes (!). I decided the best way forward was to try to reconcile what he wrote with what I wrote. I took out words like 'nakba' -- what was that? Was that really important? Why was my dad putting in references that we didn't learn about? Also, his speech was too long! We were only supposed to talk for 5 minutes. In the end, I used my speech and rewrote parts of his. I received an A+ for my speech (and in fact won the Social Studies Award for that year!) , which my dad was happy about, but not without reminding me that Israeli aggression in Palestine is ongoing and unceasing.

I know that it seems odd that it took me until this Saturday to remember what my dad was trying to tell me, to teach me, to drill into me, about colonialism, about US hegemony, about imperialism, about Zionism. I had always assumed that it was my own reading and research and reflecting that has shaped my belief systems. I know now, though, that I imbibed the lessons my dad was imparting subconsciously, forming who I am today. And for that, I am grateful.