#I do not believe any of you would have CELEBRATED the massacre of thousands of civilians in a period of minutes

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

What are your major views concerning the Israel Palestine war?

A good question.

I am assuming that you refer to Israel's current military retaliation in Gaza, which I will answer. However, I will also broaden your question to include the state of the conflict.

First of all, Israel's military retaliation in Gaza was entirely provoked by the Hamas terrorist organisation.

Despite international media scrutinising Israel's actions, nobody with a fair mind should downplay the scale of the crime that Hamas committed. The Jews have never suffered such an act of genocidal terrorism since the Holocaust, and some Israeli witnesses and survivors have testified that the some of crimes Hamas committed exceed those committed by Islamic State and the Nazis.

This is important to remember, as the actions of Israel and Hamas are not equal, no matter what the media, activists and the mob of empty-headed, allegedly "progressive" mouthpieces online (including on Tumblr) claim. Israel has acted in self-defence and to punish a terrorist organisation; Hamas acted to massacre the Jewish population.

Two important points are being missed by the international media and other groups:

1- Hamas' act of terror on October 7 was not motivated by politics. The claims made by student organisations at Harvard University and Columbia and co., asserting that the terrorist attack was motivated by the decades-long conflict between Israel and the Palestinians, are a blatant attempt to rationalise the pure evil that Hamas committed. This despite the scale of Hamas' crimes: beheading babies, burning children alive. The sheer sadistic evil of these crimes already demonstrates that the motivation wasn't political: it was pure, Nazi Jew-hatred.

Since 2006, Hamas has stated clearly that it aims for the extermination of Jews worldwide. This charter has been available for public viewing for years, yet people who rationalise the evil of Hamas have either never heard of it because they don't speak Arabic (and can't be bothered to do any research), or they know of Hamas' genocidal aims against the Jews and are choosing to ignore this because they believe the Jews are responsible for attracting such hatred. I'll never forget the liberal commentator, Kyle Kulinski, rationalising Hamas' antisemitism by claiming that it's because 'they're pissed off'.

Imagine someone claiming that the KKK's hatred of black people was because they were 'pissed off'.

2- The October 7 attack was just the beginning of a series of murderous attacks on Jews worldwide. This fact utterly destroys the claims of student organisations and other rationalisers of evil, who insist that if the Israelis merely acceded to demands made by the Palestinians, then no such terrorist attacks would have occurred.

It's difficult to categorise just how pathetic, cowardly, and disgraceful such assertions are, yet they are usually unchallenged. Prior to October 7, there were many Zionists who said similar things (though they did not rationalise the terrorist attacks): yield to the Palestinians and the conflict will end.

This is a lie.

We have already established that Hamas has a target on the head of every Jew on this planet. And intelligence agencies in European countries have already uncovered plots by Hamas agents in Denmark and the Netherlands, planning murderous attacks on Jews and synagogues.

And to be honest, Hamas doesn't even need such agents. Shortly after their heinous crime, Hamas terrorists called on Muslims to start a day of rage in their defence, a request that thousands, if not millions, of Muslims agreed to do. Since the massacre, people on the pro-Palestinian side, many of them Muslim and Arabic, have been seen celebrating the massacre and calling for the murder of Jews. The infamous video taken in Sydney, in which a crowd calls for the Jews to be gassed, is just one example of such hatred.

Given the scale of Hamas' hatred of Jews and the active danger that Hamas poses to Jews across the world, you can now begin to see why Israel has retaliated in this way.

This is not a decision that Israel took for the pleasure of seeking revenge. For years, Israeli politicians such as Binyamin Netanyahu and much of the elites in Israel's military and intelligence thought that a combination of firefighting and appeasement of Hamas would deal with the security threat to Israel in Gaza. Every time Hamas fired thousands of rockets into Israel, the Israeli military would wait until the barrage became intolerable, then seek to eliminate Hamas terrorists and destroy buildings where they stored weaponry-- a claim that Israel has proven over and over again.

October 7 has proven that those measures were utterly misguided, to say the very least. When the dust has settled, many Israeli politicians and military top brass will have to explain how security could have failed so dramatically on October 7, leading to Hamas terrorists slaughtering IDF soldiers in their beds.

Israel cannot exist with Hamas on its border. I don't know whether the international media is underlining the fact that Hamas is not the only Palestinian terrorist organisation operating in Gaza; Islamic Jihad, known as Palestinian Islamic Jihad, is there as well. This terrorist organisation undoubtedly assisted with the October 7 massacre.

Hamas also operates in the West Bank, and since October 7, it has become even more popular with Palestinians there.

Such information isn't being acknowledged in the international media, or by the cottage industry of so-called activists, either. This undermines the popular claim that Hamas is entirely separate from the Palestinian civilian population.

We know that:

1- Palestinian civilians with work permits from Gaza collected information on Israeli families and passed it to Hamas before October 7

2- Palestinian civilians are seen wildly celebrating the attack, including when the near-naked body of Shani Louk was paraded in Gaza and Palestinian men spat on her; when an Israeli boy was kidnapped and is pictured being pushed around and bullied by Palestinian boys; when an Israeli woman who was violently raped (her trousers are drenched in blood) was dragged out of a car and the Palestinian crowd cheered; when an Israeli mother and her child were pushed and shoved by Palestinian terrorists, again with a crowd cheering

3- We know that some Palestinian civilians entered Israel on October 7 and assisted with the massacres and probably with other war crimes as well

4- Hamas uses Palestinian civilians as human shields, and as assistants to spy on IDF positions and signal to Hamas to release booby traps. The death toll of IDF soldiers, largely ignored by the international media, is often because of them entering booby-trapped buildings

This information is crucial, yet being largely ignored. Many don't even know these facts. But this information helps demonstrate why Israel is targeting buildings in Gaza with unprecedented force. These buildings are often booby-trapped by Hamas terrorists, and civilian collaborators with terrorists are using the rooftops as a vantage point to help Hamas murder IDF soldiers.

In addition to this, Israel has to contend with Hamas' underground tunnel network, which it uses for stockpiling weaponry and now, for keeping hostages.

Israel is in the extremely difficult position of needing to destroy Hamas bases above and below ground and kill Hamas terrorists and collaborators, while also wanting to save the innocent Israelis kidnapped by this evil organisation. It's tragically unsurprising, therefore, that Israel's retaliation campaign puts the Israeli hostages in serious and even mortal danger (although Hamas terrorists already subjected such hostages to unspeakable crimes against humanity).

Again, these are all crucial facts and pieces of context all missing from the wild-eyed, pseudo-moralistic deluge of hatred against Israel that features so prominently among the uneducated (including and especially university students) and the bigoted.

So far, we can see that Hamas is motivated by hatred of Jews, not dissatisfaction with the allocation of land. A further piece of proof is that Hamas came to power with a mandate to murder Jews worldwide, despite the fact that Israel completely withdrew from Gaza in 2005, believing that this would please the Arabs and lead to peace. Not many people realise that Jews have lived in Gaza for centuries (there were synagogues in Gaza, if you can picture it), and they are now the only ethnic group forbidden from entering. This is real ethnic cleansing, but that doesn't produce any outrage from the so-called "moral majority" worldwide.

The obvious, Nazi ideology that fuels Hamas is present in Palestinians who support Hamas, Islamic Jihad, the PFLP, and the original terrorist organisation, the PLO. For years, right under the nose of the feckless United Nations, the Palestinians have been thoroughly indoctrinated into Nazi-style Jew-hatred. In Gaza, the UNRWA has distributed books calling for the murder of Jews. Such books are handed to Palestinian children. The UN has done nothing to cut off UNRWA's funding as a punishment. The European Union has condemned UNRWA for these materials, but hasn't done much more beyond that.

Unsurprisingly, members of UNRWA were caught celebrating Hamas Nazi attack on the Jews. (So were Arabic journalists for the BBC's Arabic-language news service. You can see that this Nazi fervour for murdering Jews is an enormous problem across the Arab and Muslim world, not just in Palestinian-controlled territories.)

This brings us to a central issue. If the Palestinians were really just concerned about the division of land, then why is there a nuclear cloud of Jew-hatred hanging over the West Bank and Gaza? Why are the only Palestinian leaders terrorists, rather than real leaders? (Abbas is the chairman of the PLO, a terrorist organisation, and was possibly involved in the 1972 Münich massacre.) Why does the savage murder of Jews produce celebration in Palestinian territories, if, as Western pro-Palestinian activists claim, their cause supports human rights? Why does the Arab and Muslim world, currently silent about anti-Muslim atrocities in China, turn out in rage against Israel, rather than against Hamas' Nazi terrorism?

These are questions that you won't hear many people asking. But they need to be asked, because the Palestinians could have had their state decades ago, if they wanted it. The popular claim that Israel is obstructing this is a pure lie.

Here are some facts you simply won't hear mentioned:

1)- Most of the original Mandate for Palestine is now modern-day Jordan. The map often shown by pro-Palestinian activists is (deliberately) misleading, as it doesn't show the original size of territory. If it did, people would easily see that the Arabs received the overwhelming majority of it.

2)- Most Jordanians are Palestinian Arabs, a fact clearly resented by the Hashemite rulers, who have in the past driven the PLO out of Jordan, arbitrarily revoked the citizenship of Palestinian Jordanians, and continue to deny Arab descendants of refugees from 1947 to 1949 citizenship. (Something Queen Rania doesn't want to discuss; she's too busy attacking Israel.)

3)- The British Empire heavily restricted Jewish land purchases and later immigration to the remainder of the Mandate, while permitting Arab purchases and immigration

4)- Other Arabic countries were formed by imperial powers based on arbitrary mandatory territories

5)- Some Arab leaders, such as Prince Faisal, recognised that Jewish immigration to Palestine was entirely legitimate and would be beneficial for the Arabs

6)- Many, if not most, Arabs in the early 20th century, considered themselves Syrian, including during the Ottoman Turk Empire

7)- The Ottoman Turk empire had to collapse before the Arabs had a chance at national sovereignty in any part of the later Mandate for Palestine; as it is, they received over 80% of the Mandate; 8)- The Jews were willing to accept a far smaller portion of what is now modern-day Israel back in 1947, but the Arabs refused, with Arab leaders calling for jihad against the Jews.

This is a summary of my main views on this conflict. I am firmly on the side of Israel's right to exist in peace and, like Israel's Charter of 1948, I call on the Arab and Muslim world to abandon its decades-long campaign of genocidal jihad against the Jewish population. A campaign that saw the Arabs align themselves with Adolf Hitler during the Second World War, another fact that the Western pro-Palestinian faction (including on this site) doesn't want to discuss.

There's simply no justification for this conflict. As David Ben Gurion said, the Jews didn't come to dispossess the Arabs, but to live alongside them and cultivate the land together. There is more than enough land there for the Jews and Arabs to live together peacefully. This can still be the case, but it won't come about through blindly forcing a two-state "solution" that ignores Israel's security concerns and doesn't hold the Palestinians responsible for their own share of wrongdoing.

It will come about when the Palestinians reject terrorism and Nazi Jew-hatred, and embrace reasonable dialogue and peace. This is the precondition to any talks about a two-state solution, and this precondition, especially after the crime of October 7, is nonnegotiable.

#israel #war #palestine #mandate of palestine #history #palestinians #israelis #palestinian antisemitism #nazism #neo nazism #muslim #muslim world #jumblr #stand with israel #i stand with israel #gaza #gaza strip #hamas #october 7 massacre #hamas is isis #bring them home #international media #west #media #news

[mevekagvain]

Chapter 93 - Fancy chair, love it.

- So my theory is that Raizel just never learnt how to write in Lukedonian either.

- Tbh the janitor is suspicious. Like how hard was he googling M-21?

Chapter 94 - SUYIIIIIIIIIIII

- Ah geez the first of the racistly depicted characters.

Chapter 96 - Suyi getting mad at the kids for complaining about Hansu is so funny like when she first appears you think she's perhaps a stuck up celebrity or a pushover but it turns out she's just a really sweet friend.

- Suyi being stunned by Rai's looks but not falling for him (same with Yuna) is one of the things I always liked about Noblesse. Like sure in the first meeting they get blushy but I'll just jot that down to the inherent beauty of nobles since I can't relate to it at all.

Chapter 97 - Frankenstein's house always being stocked with so much food because the kids just started coming over daily is hilarious. Even funnier since Frankenstein obviously thinks it's overkill but is the one stocking up anyway.

Chapter 98 - Regis and Seira 🥺 Seira's og outfit was the best one she had like it only goes downhill from here folks.

Chapter 99 - It would have been so funny if Frankenstein went "they must be cosplayers" instead of realising the two were nobles.

- Regis taking all the initiative shows how it's his roadtrip coming of age journey which is pretty clever. Also Seira's just like that but still.

- Shinwoo stop exercising in class bro. Do not flex on the rest of us this is so rude 😭😭😭

- Regis confidently saying he's a noble in class to humans he doesn't plan on mind controlling... Baby boy why are you so dumb? How is this hiding your identity??? And Seira just lets him,,, good for her.

Chapter 100 - Ah yes their elegance boner at seeing Raizel... nobles are so fucking weird.

- M-21 thinking he won't get any information because of his time at the Union and thus being surprised at how open Frankenstein is is actually really sweet. Like yeah I still think Frankenstein is an unethical and questionable person but he is kind to most humans (werewolves and nobles can go fuck themselves I guess lmao).

Chapter 101 - The second hand embarrassment I felt when M-21 called the two noblesse... how do I even consume content?

- Yeah 100% most union members don't know the difference between nobles and vampires. I bet they'd classify jiangshi as either mutants or werewolves. Or to be more specific, that would be the classification given to low leveled members. On one hand I think it's dumb that the Union gives members twisted information because how would they even use it? But on the other hand it makes sense since it prevents said members from seeking nobles for help. After all, if they believe even the 'noblesse' are vampires that drink blood, than obviously they won't see them as possible escape routes.

- 'Noblesse only applies to one person'. Yeah because Rai's brother is fucking dead. And so is whoever was his predecessor/parent.

Chapter 102 - Those bullies got backup so fucking fast like Shinwoo literally just asked Regis and Seira if they were okay then boom! They're back.

Chapter 103- Regis going ??? essentially when Shinwoo tells him to take care of Seira is so funny like yes ofc he's confused she's literally a clan leader + noble females aren't physically weaker + noble women work out just like the men.

- Rude, Regis. You can't just ask someone why they're mingling among humans. You're doing that too. Who doesn't mingle among humans smh. Even cats and pigeons mingle with us.

Chapter 105 - Love how everyone else in the household is so sick of ramyeon like Raizel stop please you're being selfish.

Chapter 106 - Frankenstein is the definition of the 'right in front of my salad?' meme at Regis and M-21 arguing at the dinner table. Then there's Seira and Raizel just waiting for the noodles to get soggy so he can't even eat. Wish Urokai could see him getting tortured like this.

- The soldier rejecting backup because he knows the enemy is the Union hurts my heart. Wanting to prevent casualties... iwi

Chapter 107 - Shark how tf do you not know about South Korea? That's one of the asian countries people actually know about. I guess maybe it's because this is from around a decade back? K-pop is more recent and made the country more visible I guess.

- Ah yes Takeo. Forever known as "the first time I read Noblesse and he appeared I thought he was Marie's sister since they had the same hairstyle". Like I thought that before even learning about the Aris Taivra fiasco. My power 😔

- Oh don't worry M-21, Frankenstein stopped experimenting on people 830 years ago. You know, as one does.

Chapter 108 - Shark has like no general knowledge. Geography? History? Tf is that I guess.

- Tao saying they're the worst possible people for the job is so funny like yeah he's right. "All we do is massacre people in warzones why are we in Seoul?"

- The rest of the squad complain or are confused about the peace meanwhile Takeo is vibing. He's the normal guy TM of the group.

- Ah yes noble lore. If you take canon at face value than the fact that nobles were around when humans first emerged and there being about 2-3 clan leaders before the current generation means you can estimate their lifespan. Ofc it differs wildly depending on how you interpret the 'first humans' part. I'll assume there were 3 generations before the current generation (mvp lord being the third generation) and won't be adding the current generation since a 0.5-2k years is kinda meaningless. I'll also be assuming that mvp lord entered eternal sleep at around the same age as his predecessors and that he would have died soon from old age anyway (since canonically they do have limited lifespans). If we assume it's just the first human ancestors (7 million years ago) than the average pureblood lifespan is 2.33 million years. If we assume it's when homo sapiens started to emerge (300k years ago) than it's 100k years. If it's about modern humans (130k years ago) than it's 43.3k years. Regardless I'll ignore it since my hcs are that nobles are effectively immortal unless killed and that the 2-3 clan leaders is a misconception due to a mix of Gechutel just straight up lying, because there are clans that have had fewer clan leaders, because I have nobles settling on Lukedonia only 30k years ago, and because Gechutel is factoring in his own age of 10.2k so it's more like 'There have been 2-3 Ru clan leaders before the Ru clan leader 10k years ago since after we settled in Lukedonia'. There's also the possibility that nobles didn't have lords or clan leaders until a few thousand years ago in canon but the species has existed for much longer.

- 'Nobles are individualistic... They don't despise humans but don't love them either.' Humans w/ ants. Now if the ants were capable of speaking with us it'd be exactly the same situation.

Chapter 109 - "What were they researching here?" Since when does the Union research anything aside from human modifications Kranz? Why do you even need to ask? More seriously this means that the Union doesn't actually only do human experimentation and weapons lmao. The other shit just isn't relevant I guess. It's a shame, I'd have loved to see how a lab focused on like, fixing up polluted waters, would be fit into the story.

- The fact that Tao beat Jake up is never mentioned enough. Also confirms that Jake was lying out of his ass about being the strongest.

- Marie being the weakest assassination squad member is interesting like I know why Crombel doesn't need bodyguards as the reader but you'd think the Union would be suspicious of him not having a stronger bodyguard. Also I still can't believe the Union doesn't bother learning who the members are aside from the ones Crombel tells them about like. Bro???

- Shark calling Takeo uptight is hilarious because the guy literally just shot the falling ceiling light which is the opposite of uptight. Either he was preventing them from getting hurt/being caught or he wanted that to happen considering the fact that he shot it and it shattered. And then he just goes back to leaning against the wall. Takeo please 🤣

Chapter 110 - And Shinwoo's still staying over at Ikhans place. Wonder when he's gonna move back. I really love their dynamic like yeah I beg my sister to get me food all the time too. Also love the apron and skeleton hoodie.

- Shinwoo went through the five stages of grief pretty quick huh? Like yeah it's his own misunderstanding that Ikhan is dating someone but still. Homophobia is annoying as always though.

Chapter 111 - Suyi paying for their food is so sweet of her and also I relate so much like yeah mood that's me and no I don't want to be paid back.

- Takeo,,, the fact that he just hands his wallet over because he doesn't like violence and doesn't want to beat them up,,, my heart. Otoh... how did he even get cornered in an dark shady alleyway lmao.

- Aris managing to make herself look like a teenager as Taivra is interesting since Takeo says he wants her to be able to go to school like Yuna and Shinwoo when he's treating them. I guess she looks younger without makeup.

- Takeo just straight up pointing his gun at Shark in public because he mentioned Taivra... anger issues much? I understand why but taking your gun out is an overreaction.

#noblesse #raining while reading

[baby-grayson]

Sweet Enigma| Part 5

Word Count: 2605

Tags:  @wheezeatmedolans​ @styles-dolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @evergreendolan​ @baby-turtles​ @dolanstacoma​ @kombuchagray​ @not-gbd​ @graysavant​ @someonetogray​ @dolansficsandpics​ @batgirl009 @voguekristens @letsgoget-high​ @crossedbone-kat​ @graysonsdollface​

Ethan sat at his kitchen island, shoveling bites of pancake into his mouth. His phone buzzed so hard it nearly jerked off the counter. He swooped an arm down and caught it before it hit the ground. When he stopped to read the messages illuminating his screen, he once again confirmed his status as the smarter twin.

In a room on the other side of the house, a strung out and angry Sherry typed furiously at her laptop. She ignored phone calls and emails from her agent and publicist. Her nostrils flared at her computer screen while her manicure clacked against her keys. She sneered at the notifications coming in, forcing her to face the images of Grayson stalking into their tiny home with another woman.

From the other side of the room, Calvin Maddox leaned against a wall with a cool gaze. His eyes did not move from his emotional daughter while he spoke into his phone, “You hear me Chip? I want that girl’s name. I want her daddy’s name. I want her mama’s name. I want to know what she ate for dinner last night. And don’t you dare call me back until you know everything.” With a stern finger, he hung up the call and crossed his arms. Sherry turned from her position at the computer, her blue eyes were dark with something mad and disturbed. She gritted her teeth and turned back to finish what she was doing.

Wesley’s voice was choked up when Kate picked up the phone. She felt every one of her organs shake. Wesley’s breathing was uneasy, clearly audible over the phone. She closed her eyes and winced: like she was in pain at the dentist.

He didn’t even bother starting with pleasantries. “Katie—” Her heart broke to hear him say it like that, “What’s going on?” “Wes,” she started, “It’s not what you think,” her words got quicker with each second, “It-it looks—it’s not what it—”

“What am I supposed to think?” His voice was loud and sharp on her ears, “I’m—I’m confused Kate.”

“They’re not telling the truth—” “You’re not telling the truth! Kate! You said you were in Philadelphia! You said you were with your mom! And I look at my phone and see you in Jersey with some guy! Some guy that’s practically married! What am I supposed to think Kate? What am I supposed to feel?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t think—” “Didn’t think what?” Wesley choked on his words, “That you would get caught?”

Kate felt a single tear fall down the side of her face. As much as she had never believed Wesley was the one for her, she would have never pictured hurting him like this. His voice sounded like someone was stabbing him in the gut. In a deep place, she knew Wesley deserved better: not someone who would run off to the East Coast under false pretenses and the remnants of an old romance. She felt messy. She felt dirty. She felt problematic. Wesley was the last shred of her old life left. He was the last memory of a happy girl, with a healthy mom, and a doting boyfriend who never worried about Grayson Dolan.

“I’m done Kate. I can’t do this. Not if you’re going to treat me this way. I-I wish it was different, I really do but…. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me enough to at least tell the truth.”

It pained Wesley to do it, in a deep and emotional place. Seeing those photos of Kate and Grayson forces Wesley to permanently let go of his vision for a future with her. In ten minutes, his entire idea of what his life would look like was erased for a darker picture. He loved her; she lied to him. He wore the stains of the tainted spaces she left in his heart.

And with that, Kate said goodbye to the last shred of her old life. She was, officially, a confused girl, with a sick mom, and no boyfriend but many worries about Grayson Dolan.

Her heart felt tortured: skewered by the events of the past few days. She felt a thousand arrows puncturing her aortas: some of them with Grayson’s name, some of them with Wesley’s, and some with her own because she could not deny that it was her own actions that catalyzed and inflicted her own pain.

And on that day, so many hearts were in pain. Grayson’s heart ached for Kate. He felt existentially disturbed in a deep place. He worried about what his decisions had done to Kate. Half of his mind hated the other half, for worrying more about Kate than he did about Sherry. He paced around his mother’s house, dragging fingers through his hair and playing at the callouses on his palms while he tried to formulate some kind of plan to make everything right.

The ability to do so was stripped from him from the media storm erupted in the winds of Sherry’s announcement.

 Displayed as white text on a black background she wrote: “It is with a heavy heart and so much sadness that I am forced to announce the end of my engagement to Grayson Dolan. Grayson gave me so many beautiful moments and wonderful experiences, but I am moving onto a new, independent chapter in my life. Grayson’s decision to pursue a new direction in his life has offered me the opportunity to enjoy life as a liberated woman. Although I am trying to look at this new point in my life with excited eyes, thinking about all of the horizons that are out there for me: I am stricken by the pain, grief, and anguish of being involuntarily compelled to dispose of any fantasies of the life I was going to create with the man whom I thought was my soulmate. In this time, I am eternally grateful for the love and respect of my mother, father, sister, and all of my supporters.”

 Grayson dialed the phone before the dust settled in his mind. He was surprised to hear Sherry’s voice on the other end, not her recorded voicemail or her assistant.

“Sherry—” his tone landed somewhere between agitated and massacred. “What was that? What did you—” “I should be asking you the same question,” she was calm and pointed. For all of her selfish, greedy flaws: Sherry Maddox never lost her purposefully, Southern composure. The only time she addressed someone with so much as a hair out of place, was when Grayson intruded on her space when he went to pack his bag: he had unraveled her once and he wasn’t going to do it twice.

“So we’re over? You didn’t even have the decency to tell me you were going to—to—to post that? To send that?” Grayson’s meaty fingers clutched his phone with white knuckled.

“Take it as retribution,” she popped her lips before continuing, “For not having the decency to tell me you were running away.” Her jaw cracked over the phone, “With another woman.”

Grayson sighed, “Sherry,” his tone was lighter. “I—I—” Grayson struggled. He wasn’t going to ask for her back. He didn’t want to ask for her back. He didn’t want to be with her. He didn’t even want to be on the phone with her right now. But he was trying to do the right thing, to honor his past commitments and make right his past mistakes. “—I’m trying to be a good man Sherry.”

She laughed. She laughed not with a happy effervescence but with a cold, chilling, mocking breath. “Good man? Since when does a good man leave his fiancé? Since when does a good man travel to the opposite end of the country in the middle of the night to get away from his fiancé? What kind of good man takes up post with another woman sleeping in his bed while his fiancé is stuck in California—trying to explain to her entire family why he wasn’t at their celebration and decided to embarrass her like that?”

Grayson gulped. She didn’t stop. “Tell me. How much of it was a lie? Because some of it had to be? Did you never love me? Did you used to love me? What was I? Some kind of a publicity stunt? Were you insecure that the D’Amelios and the Pauls were more famous than you? Being a run away groom? This is more press than you’ve had in years? Did you know this from the beginning? Was it all fake? Or did something happen and suddenly I was just a device?” “No-“ his voice sounded more like a cry. “To think I actually wanted your children. You don’t deserve to have children in this world, anyone who can leave a path of hurt like that---you’re damn near a sociopath Dolan. I just can’t believe I let you hoodwink me into not seeing it for so long.” “NO!” He screamed into his phone, “I’m not a sociopath Sherry. I did love you. Once. I used to. But things changed. And I was wrong for—for not talking about it. For letting it boil up in me. For thinking that a happy future was a—a good enough reward for a problematic present—but sometimes it isn’t. and it wasn’t for us—for me.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Sherry. I’m sorry I hurt you—you didn’t—you don’t deserve this. I’m going to be sorry I hurt you for the rest of my life. But please believe me when I say I never used you, when I say I never lied to you. I’m not a perfect man Sherry—I’m far from it—but nothing from the past year and a half was an act.” “You must really think I’m a dumb blonde huh?” Sherry’s cool tone was completely juxtaposed to the sound of Grayson’s panting yells, “You are right about one thing Dolan, you will be sorry about this for the rest of your life.” Before he could ask, Grayson heard the dial tone as she hung up their call.

Grayson didn’t notice his mother’s figure leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, but he didn’t flinch when she put a loving hand on his shoulder. His entire, large, beefy body was shaking. He sucked in his top lip and let it flop onto his bottom one with a large breath. Lisa clutched him caringly, “It’ll be okay.”

“That’s what Kate said,” Grayson’s face fell into a defeated picture.

“She’s smart,” Lisa took a seat at the kitchen island with Grayson. He looked over to his mother, finding comfort in her familiar gaze.

Grayson nodded softly, “I’m not.”

Lisa moved her hand to hold his forearm, radiating heat onto his skin, “No, you are. You just need to slow down. To think about what you want.” “What I want?” Grayson’s mouth shortened at the edges. Lisa nodded softly, knowingly, “You didn’t want Sherry. Not in that way.” Grayson lifted in his eyebrows in silent agreement. “Courage is grace under pressure,” she recited from memory, “In our hardest moments, we look to our purest truths.”

Grayson bit the inside of his cheek, “Thank you fortune cookie” His tone was low and deprived of any jest.

Lisa scoffed softly and hit him across the arm playfully, “I’m saying when you left Sherry, you weren’t just leaving her—you were looking for something. Something that is currently upstairs, laying in a ball because her boyfriend just broke up with her.” “Broke up with her?” Grayson had been too preoccupied with his own storm to check in with Kate for the past few hours. Lisa nodded, “It was bad but she’ll make it. The strong ones always do.”

“Am I strong one mom?” Grayson’s voice sounded small leaving his lips, nearly childlike.

Lisa released a breath though her nose and met her son’s eyes, “You are. Stronger than you think. But the only way to prove it to yourself is to get your life in order. And the only purpose who can do that, who can prove that, is you Grayson.”

Grayson Dolan never liked running. He felt like a hamster on a wheel. If he wanted to enjoy nature and feel at one with his surroundings, he would go for a merry walk or a bouncy hike. If he wanted to work out, to drench himself in sweat and manifest his troubles into physical struggle: he had a myriad of options to tone his body.  

On that day, Grayson Dolan took off running and did not look back. The dozens of confusing, conglomerated, and strange emotions he had been feeling propelled one foot to push off and fly while the other met the ground. He felt his mind slow down for the first time in too long while he body quickened. The New Jersey breeze blew through his hair while leaped over a stump and kept going. If it wasn’t for the occasional pebble in his shoe, Grayson would have felt like a bird: soaring in the air without a precise destination. He glided through the air until he figured out what he wanted to run toward. Once he had a goal in mind, he turned around and hustled his way back home.

Kate stood under the shower head, letting a pressurized stream dance over her skin. She lifted her head up, taking in deep breaths as the water washed over her body. She felt her muscles relax for the first time in months. She let her mind go blank, refusing to let negative thoughts ruin this moment for her. She hooked her hands around her neck, rubbing soft circles and feeling a serene calm sound over her entire body.

 The shower had started to steam up, the air was thick was a humid fog. The only audible sound was the whistle of the hot shower head. 

Kate didn’t hear the door close. She didn’t hear the soft sound of clothes falling onto the bathmat. She didn’t even hear the shower curtain move from within her zen state.  Her muscles tenses and then relaxed with the knowledge that the hands wrapped around her waist were Grayson’s. 

He placed a kiss on the side of her neck. She stretched it out, allowing more room for his lips. His gentle fingertips drove deeper into her wet skin. She pursed her lips while she exhaled, nearly moaning as she melted under his lips. 

One of his hands draped down and grabbed onto her thigh, pulling her closer to him at the waist. She bit her lip and smirked, silently wishing he could see her expression while she felt him press hard against her ass. 

She turned slightly and went to meet his lips. 

Grayson pulled back. His eyes darted around the scene and his hands went lip from where they laid around her. Grayson swallowed and took a step back, nearly fell over in the shower. 

He suddenly realized what he was doing. Sure, he was now a free man but Kate wasn’t his woman. He couldn’t just barge into her shower, hold her naked body, slam her against a wall, and do dirty things to her all night.

Hell, the last he kissed her was nearly three years ago. 

Kate seemed to sense his inner turmoil. She stepped toward him and licked her lips, wearing something dark in her eyes. 

She clasped a hand around his jaw and his lips and pulled his face toward her, “Finish what you started.”

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #fanfic #smut #angst #series #ethan #ethan dolan #grayson x oc #kind stranger #sweet engima #story #blurb #concept #chapter #writing #youtuber #internet #romance #drama

[kshitij1997]

Greetings, people!

Oh, damn I haven't done this in some time.

Well, the life of an engineer is a hectic one and I had written myself into a corner and was blocked for many days as a result. Not anymore. I have decided that I would update this once a week from now on.

We're getting somewhere in this, hopefully you people enjoy it.

All frozen and Tangled characters belong to Disney, all I own is this head-cannon and the original characters.

Let's continue!

Chapter 6: Of children fortunate and not so fortunate

Throughout Europe, the new year was always celebrated with utter pomp and show, what with firecrackers bursting in the city centres and town squares and if there weren't any firecrackers at hand, one could always fire a musket up in the air. Singing, dancing, drunken behaviour, smashing of public property, brawls and general noise. It was comforting to see that even though the major empires were coming up and clawing at each other's throats on a regular basis, nothing would really dampen the typical European spirit even if some drastic changes ever happened.

Which is not to say they didn't have different customs. The Ottoman Sultan for example, would start celebrating three days in advance, binging and drinking while being surrounded by scores of concubines, throwing golden medals and eggs onto the streets for all his citizens to collect. This pious act of charity was ample for the people to forgive the Sultan his misgivings. As for the Tsar, the rumoured massive drinking appetite of the typical Tsar held strong and displayed itself in all its glory during the coming of the new year, singing, jumping on tables, screaming Moktor! a drinking chant he had borrowed from his Arendellian ally, banging a kettle drum while removing his royal tunic and tying it around his forehead, it certainly wasn't a sight the typical Russian nobles would forget easily even as they were busy distributing free beer and bread throughout St. Petersburg. The royal family of the Southern Isles always started as a family dinner but dissolved into everyone getting wasted and threatening to kill each other right then and there. However, for some unexplained reason, they always ended up weeping and caressing each other. One could be forgiven for thinking that it was an Irish wake, unsurprising as the Southern Isles had some sizable Irish ancestry. As for the Duke of Weselton, it was an opium binge, smoking up into the wee hours of the morning. If one made the mistake of asking the duke his plans during such a session, they could be trapped there for the rest of the day and miss the blessed celebrations. Now that his merchants had begun smuggling Marijuana from central America, those plans became more outlandish every passing year as the intoxicant made its way in the duke's habits. The Monarchs of Corona were more chaste and less dramatic in comparison, nevertheless it didn't stop them from holding a quirky national lottery at the end of the year in which save the crown, the state and the Monarchs, nearly everything was for grabs.

It could be a normal brooch, or a kettle, or something outrageous like the ancient Dusseldorf cathedral, or even better, the Munich Palace of Justice. However, short of the royal palace, nothing truly awed the people of Corona as the Mansion, a building so singular and unique in the Rhinelands that it had acquired a legend of its own. How that massive building was built during the earliest crusades in the holy lands, had sheltered thousands of innocents in the mindless massacres which was a hallmark of said crusades, how the same building became a terrible final place for those unfortunates who were accused of witchcraft and found guilty, how said building harboured the Coronian resistance as they battled the Habsburgs for the identity of Corona in the thirty years war. One could see that the Mansion was home to centuries of history both good and bad, a monument to human suffering and human triumph; it was a matter of prestige and honour to those who lived there.

Since the passing of the Patriarch, the Mansion was up for bid for the first time in fifty years. Unfortunately, the Mansion had been burned down, some said it was a careless baker, some said it was a figure as dark as night, yet many believed that it was Flynn Rider, the little boy who cast a gargantuan shadow in all of Rhineland, where some thought he was a hero who avenged someone dear to him and brought down tyranny, while some thought he was a rat bastard, who sold out everyone from his trade to escape the noose and ruined the businesses of the Rhinelands. Ah well, the public could never make up its mind.

Even though the public was upset by the loss of the Mansion, they had to agree that the Monarchs were generally generous in the lottery and accepted the loss with a heavy heart. After all, a cooking pot was much more useful in cooking than an entire monument , no matter how symbolic it was and how brightly it burned into oblivion.

Last but not the least, the kingdom of Arendelle often saw a lot of parades and street performances around that time of the year. Typically the various students who had come from abroad to study would often bring out a procession, banging some drums, beating some cymbals and singing songs in unison in their native languages, becoming a crowd of thousands as they used to go door to door, either offering food and gifts, and inviting those to join them who weren't in severe want. The fact that It always snowed in the final fortnight of the year as if on clockwork never dampened their spirits. The evenings would often see people from all strata of Arendellian society coming together without social barriers. In recent years, the crowds had started becoming rowdier and more rambunctious, but they all settled as the Monarchs addressed them from their pedestal at the Royal Palace, bringing the year to a dignified end and rousing hopes for the new year. The Palace courtyard itself often became a fair ground, with various stalls selling delicacies, trinkets and souvenirs.

Queen Iduna had always enjoyed the fairs at the palace and meeting foreigners in the parades when she was a commoner, and now she loved it even more as she had her husband to share that joy with. It was a common sight to see the royal couple strolling around, meeting the stall owners, trying some exotic foods and relishing them. Now with baby princess Elsa, they had developed a very sweet tooth as well, they had been spoiled for chocolate as the baby girl always went gaga over the sweet. Even though she hadn't yet spoken, by now her parents were well acquainted with sounds of disapproval or enthusiasm coming from her. For example, when Elsa tried to nibble on any sweet, she would always gurgle and moan and form wisps with her tiny fingers, which always succeeded in bringing a smile to the couple's lips. After the exciting parades and stalls of food, the evening had surprisingly become calm as it approached the new year. Princess Elsa had had an active day, and now was sleeping in Queen Iduna's arms in the royal bedroom, her face buried into her mother's bosom.

"I guess Sophia is to take the credit or the blame for this" grinned Agnarr.

"Ha, yes surely. I wouldn't put it past her at all." smiled Iduna "However it's a shame Elsa can't drink the hot chocolate yet. It's getting lonesome drinking it by myself."

"What does that mean? It is OUR drink, right?"

"It was once, but then you got self-conscious about your health and everything." Iduna teased.

"Well, I can't really flaunt my stretch marks for my certification of fatherhood." Agnarr teased back.

"That was rough. Parenthood has changed you for the worse." Iduna laughed after staring at Agnarr for nearly a minute about that comment.

"On the other hand, I think you've become soft, I still remember the day you made the Duke of Weselton shit himself." Agnarr smirked.

"Boo you, I'm with child." Iduna accepted the challenge "I can still drive you around in circles, you know? You remember earlier today, when I made you cook an Artichoke salad for my cravings. Oh god, you were hunched over the damn stove. Good fun. And a story the whole litter would enjoy someday." Iduna finished with a laugh.

"A whole litter? Dammit woman." Agnarr laughed.

"Yeah, better stay in shape." Iduna smirked.

"Alright, I admit defeat. I swear I can still hear the blessed kitchen ladies sniggering." Agnarr backed off "Ah well, another bun hmm?"

"Yes, another bun. Due in early spring, if Dr. Klaus is to be believed."

"I would wager my life under his knife, should the day come." Agnarr said quietly.

"Hush, don't say that." Iduna whispered. "It'll be a new year in a matter of minutes, how can you think of doom at such a precious moment?"

"It's because I know how life can turn out for a lot of people. I tell you Iduna, all things considered we are luckier than most, and I know fate has a way of balancing the scales." Agnarr replied with an inscrutable face natural to kings, but Iduna knew better.

"Look, it's true we have been fortunate. However, we've had our share of suffering as well. We both have lost a lot in order to find each other and come together. You know, I still wake up sometimes looking towards the North, reminiscing what could have been if somehow war didn't break out, and I would have become a herald for the voice, be one with the fifth spirit, who knows? However, I do know that if I hadn't ventured south, I would have never met you. Not to mention the peace we brought together, the people we have allied with, the thousands of opportunities that have opened for the people because we have worked together and a lot more. Sure, we can lament what we were forced to give up, but then we wouldn't have this, and we certainly wouldn't have Elsa." Iduna consoled him.

The king of Arendelle gave a weak smile and continued " That is true, but her abilities do make me nervous. I hope we can mitigate any problems that arise from the fifth spirit's blessing."

"We got some time to figure it out. I know what you're insinuating, no need to say it out loud, anyone could hear us. Look, the key here is proceed carefully, and to make sure she's not afraid of herself. We'll be there every step of the way, and I tell you this, our baby is going to dominate the world." Iduna reassured the king.

"We certainly can't let them do what they did to Rapunzel." Agnarr shuddered at the mere thought of the incident.

"That will certainly not happen, believe me. Elsa's a light sleeper, if anyone other than us dares to take her, she'll shriek and bring the castle down." Iduna tried to ease his worry with some humour.

"Ha, our proud little banshee." Agnarr grinned.

They were interrupted by the fireworks bringing in the new year.

"godt nytt år, Iduna." "godt nytt år, Agnarr." Said the royal couple as they embraced, and Iduna felt Elsa smiling in her sleep.

While Elsa may have been at perfect peace with the world in that moment, another infant was not so lucky.

"Another fucking year gone." Hissed princess Paulina of the former kingdom of Poland, as she tried to rock the five-month-old prince Hans to sleep in his cradle. The baby prince had always had trouble sleeping, but that was to be expected as babies generally need contact to grow properly, however the princess in question didn't believe in it.

"Another year gone to shit, and I am just another windbag for your fucking father, eh kid?" the princess made a point not to join the new year's celebration, citing colic as her cause of worry, but truth be told, she could never tolerate the whole family together at once. She was alone in a strange land, among strange people who didn't think too much of her; Afterall, they had seen many like her come and go over the years. The only joy she found in her life was the one thing or person she could claim to be her own; her infant boy Janus, or Hans as his father preferred to call him.

"Your father professes his love for me, yet betrays me everyday with those loose women that lick his balls all day, his heart condition doesn't flare up then, does it? He doesn't fucking keel over then, does he? Your father promises he'll bring justice to my homeland, and then has the entrails to stab me in the back by sending his fucking lapdogs to participate in the massacre of my poor people?!" She foamed at the mouth. Little did she care that her kid could not console her or understand her yet, her bitter vitriol needed to flow somewhere, and her infant was in the unfortunate way.

"But remember this Janus, someday you will bring glory to all of Warsaw, and bring justice to all of Poland and her murderers." Whispered the princess as she calmed down and reached out to her child. The baby was only too glad for the contact and grabbed it with both hands.

"Good boy" whispered the princess with a smile to her fateful son, but the smile disappeared as she remembered what she had set out to do. The sheer memory of her father's murder by the Russians' firing squad as her family's ancestral home of over three hundred years burned to nothing, made her blood boil to vapour. But she knew better than to make a public display of her misery. No, she would wait, and hold fast as her fateful kid would hopefully bring Europe to heel one day. But for that to happen, the child needed toughening up and foolish superstitions and fancies like love and family had to be quelled before they did any damage to her 'chieftest pearl'. She pulled her hand away from Janus and walked to the window, not caring that the baby prince had started wailing loudly.

"Great, let it out, it's just pain and anguish leaving you, little prince of destiny." Whispered the now inscrutable princess as she witnessed the coming of the new year fireworks and chants from her dark little room.

"Godt nytår, Janus."

More than 900 miles away, a craven boyish figure on a horse had nearly crossed the borders of Corona into France as he approached the city of Alsace, when he decided to take refuge into the chapel two miles ahead of him. The new year celebrations had long ended and everyone had fallen asleep, save for the priest in the chapel. Eugene walked up lead footed and tired from the expedition up to the chapel doors and then he knocked on the door.

The priest opened the door silently and saw the gruff boy and took him in at once. Now, Eugene's week-long ordeal had exhausted him, and anything he could beg for was enough to feed only either him or his horse. More often than not, Eugene chose to feed the worn-out horse. But now, finally some good shelter for both the horse and Rider.

"Comment tu t'appelle?" the priest asked in a language Eugene didn't fully understand. When the priest didn't receive any answer that he could expect, he got up and peaked outside in the direction from which the little boy had ridden in.

"Tu parle Francais? Parlez-vous allemand?" The priest asked.

"Je parle allemand." Eugene replied in the little broken French that he knew.

"Ah, Deutsch." Replied the priest. Then he went in, brought a spare change of clothes and some bread and stew left from the celebration, and a quilt and mattress for the little boy.

"Essen, mein Kind" spoke the priest as her made the bed.

As Eugene bit into the bread, he couldn't hold back any longer, and burst into tears.

The priest patiently waited for him to calm down, then asked him in German "What's your name?"

"Flynn" the kid replied, his voice still raw from sobbing.

"You are far from home, aren't you?"

"I don't have a home, not anymore."

"What happened to your home, your family?"

"It got burnt down, I tried to get help, but it was too late." Flynn lied, fearing what could happen if he answered honestly.

The priest replied "It's alright, my child. Please rest now, you may stay on or leave in the morning if you wish."

"Danke, Vater" Flynn said.

"Frohes neues Jahr, mein Sohn. And don't worry, your horse is safe." The priest smiled and said quietly.

Well, it was a different tempo for me in this chapter, trying to show one day from a lot of different perspectives. I'll just say poor Hans for now.

As always, constructive feedback is always welcome.

#frozen #frozen elsa #frozen angst #hans frozen #frozen fandom #frozen fanfiction #frozenxtangled #eugene tangled #frozen agnarr #frozen iduna

[pernatius]

Lost in Space Part 6: Ch 2

Ch 1

Summary: With the fate of the universe resting in her hands, an unnamed Space Explorer and Saamuki first must find Syco to get back their friends.

Lost in Space on Tumblr

Lost in Space on ao3

A swig of alcohol later and Saamuki throws the curtains open and storms out of there with me trying to catch up. Somehow with being both tipsy and shorter than me she’s able to make quite a distance. As I try to catch my breath in front of the pacing Saamuki, I curiously pressed, “What’s up north?”

It takes her a moment to answer, either because she faded me out or that she’s no longer sober, “Big festival. Definitely not for me. Explains why this planet has become a ghost planet.”

“But Sakhra is there. Isn’t he? We have to go.”

“I know. I know we do, but why did this have to happen today? Ugh. Okay. Let me just compose myself. Give me a moment.” A few, long breaths and her talking to herself, a long awkward moment of me looking at the sand around us, and she’s leading me to where the festival is. It was several lengthy, empty roads and alleyways, and me having to hold my breath because three of them were a tight squeeze. At least the trip wasn’t as long as the labyrinth underneath Cabelo’s hotel and I had actual scenery rather than dusty, muddy bricks with some sort of greenish substance. They were structures. They were buildings. They were homes. It was interesting to see how these people lived because as I said before they are just like anyone else. They lived like how any other person would live in these conditions. Some homes were five-stories. Most were either one- or two-stories. Each held a different shape. There were ones with a round roof, others had the classic triangular roof and some were super creative by going the extra mile of concave roofs. Each held a different personality that probably represented their owners. All were made out of a mixture of rock and mud. By the time we reached the outskirts of the town, we were greeted by the mouth of a small cave that sloped downward at about a forty-five-degree angle. Swinging the staff across the gaping darkness, I see another hole shooting straight down. “It’s up north then down south,” I commented. 

She turns to me, revealing a blush, and laughs. Saamuki laughs like it’s actually funny. Like it’s the best joke she’s ever heard before. I’m not a comedian as I have a poor sense of humor, so I know it wasn’t funny at all. She wipes away her tears of joy before nudging me to head in with her. 

The ladder wasn’t cold. It didn’t feel like it was never going to end, but I still struggled to keep my grip because of all the dirt and mud sticking onto it. By the time we hop off, I note the lanterns hanging along the walls of the cave and the stream, which has a golden glow because of the lights above, between us as I shake off the mess on my hands. That feeling I always get when something bad is about to happen hits me. I don’t hesitate to point the staff in front of me, but Saamuki doesn’t hesitate to go on ahead. I follow her with my grip tightened with a bit of hesitation in my footsteps. 

When Saamuki said big she really meant big. It was packed. It was as if twice as many people who were usually at the flea market were all in here, stuffed in the cave. Although, calling it a festival is an understatement. You’d assume it would be a celebration filled with merriment like laughter and smiles, but nope. Everyone in here is unusually, eerily quiet with their heads down underneath a thick, black robe. We were the outliers, but no one paid any mind to us. They remained pointed forward. Pointed forward at what I had no idea. The tallest seemed to be standing in the back, unintentionally making an unwavering wall. Saamuki grumbles and looks around. She then takes my hand and leads me to one of the only open spots in this place. “This will take a bit,” she explained to me. 

Because of all the crampedness, it felt like a sauna. I tugged my collar, hoping some cold air would shimmy down underneath and cool my sweating chest. It did, but not as much as I hoped. 

A figure stepped onto a makeshift podium. “It’s been six months since we placed that torch. It’s been six months since her murder. She was killed by a Space Pirate. She was one of our own. No, she was one of the greatest among us, yet they’ve forgotten about her.” Getting who he was talking about, I take a glance at the lip-biting Saamuki. “Brothers and Sisters, they have let us live, or so they would like us to believe. They claim it’s for balance. Well, that balance is shifting. It’s becoming clear that they’re no longer needed. It is only a matter of time before the Lords come looking for our children, our lovers, and ourselves. They’re killing us off one by one, yet it is only now we take notice. For centuries we have been their lackeys, their slaves. We’ve always done their dirty work. We never questioned once because we were blinded by the gifts, the freedom. No longer shall we live this way. No longer shall we let them control us. True freedom is not one built on fear. Brothers and sisters, it is time we rise. The time is now. There is no better time than now. Their most precious pets are at war with each other as we speak.”

“Brother, they will listen to us for some things, but not for this. They will massacre all of us within a blink of an eye,” a voice from the crowd replied. 

“Sister, what are rulers without followers? A hundred of us they will slaughter without a thought, but thousands of us is a different story. One voice is a whisper. Ten voices is a mutter. A hundred is heard, but not listened to. A thousand is a call to action.”

Another voice from the crowd countered, “Even if we wanted to, brother, we don’t have the supplies to stage such a theatrical war and we especially don’t have the manpower. Most of us are well over the age of action. This includes you, brother. Besides, we can’t just leave our children unattended if all goes south.”

“That is true, brother, but that’s why I ask for all of you to bury down your pride and seek the help of the public. Billions of voices can not be unheard. Brothers and sisters, it is time we act before it’s too late. They are feared because we let them be feared. We feed into the power they have, but power is a belief. It cannot be touched, but it can be broken. You and many others in this room know that is true.” 

A wave of whispers and hushes filled the room. A voice broke through the sound with a shout. Anger then erupted. Arguments had awakened. Then, as quickly as it came it all quieted. Silence filled the room. A single, familiar-looking hand is then raised. Everyone around eyed him. The owner of the hand had spoken, “I will join the cause that affects all of us, brother. I stand by your offer without any hesitation.”

“Classic Sakhra,” Saamuki mumbled with a smirk and a still blushing face. 

Of course, when one person confidently makes their voice heard then others are bound to join in. One by one everyone in the room is recruited. The last one to raise their hand, with what I think is an eye roll and an exaggerated swinging of his arm, is the man that tried deterring the announcer. 

The announcer started again, “With that settled, let us drink.” Everyone cheered and Saamuki turned around and covered her ears. Right when I’m about to question what had gotten her so disgusted with what’s just a town hall meeting, two cloaked figures threw a tied up, whimpering body in front of the announcer. The body couldn’t be any younger than the other prisoner on the Trauvox ship. Whoever this new character is clearly has seen war. They’re wearing a ripped, navy blue uniform and a tad of white with bloodstains. Purple spots have grown over where blood has been splattered. What was once pure white has now turned into a pinkish handkerchief. Their puffy pants, which are mostly tucked into their knee-high, dark brown boots, have battle scars of their own. Tears and scratches have made their name on them as well. The announcer bends down. “Speak, child. Let your voice be heard,” he continued.

The soldier doesn’t even take a glance at the man above him. Instead, they try to struggle free. Clearly, they’re outnumbered. If they were to loosen the rope tying them down just enough for at least one of their arms to be free they’d be welcomed to an onslaught of getting their ass beat by hundreds. They’re weaponless, I need to add. I don’t know what sort of training they’ve gone through, but it didn’t train their common sense. Maybe the type of training they went through suppressed it to outweigh honor. Maybe they’d rather die fighting than be at the announcer's mercy. Maybe it’s just the youth talking. 

Because they failed to answer, the announcer gets up and slams his foot into the soldier’s chest. I hear the sounds of ribs cracking as the soldier cries and spits out blood. My knuckles turned white because of how tight my grip on the staff has become. I try fighting myself. I want to go and help him. It sickened me seeing this type of excessive treatment, but at the same time, I know that doing so would probably get me to wind up like him. Saamuki tells me, “I know, but it’ll be all over soon. Just wait.”

He’s beaten—bloody nose and teeth, a split lip, and twitching hands. He stammers out as his collar is about to give in from underneath the clutch of the announcer’s hand, “B-Battalion five. I’m from battalion five of Quadrant Forty. I’m just a private. P-Please, have mercy.”

With that, the collar gives in. The private falls with a hard thud. Again, the announcer lowers. This time the private flinches when he speaks. “Ah, now was that so hard?” The beaten, young soldier shakes his head. “Good, but, unfortunately, it took you this long for you to crack. Most last far longer. One lasted a whole week. His lips remained shut even as we ripped each of his nails. Although, and of course, I didn’t beat him for every second that week. Even we get tired of torturing, but you’re just a private. Still, you’ve given your life to the Lords and that means you represent fascism.”

“If you want intel I don’t have any. They don’t tell us anything.”

“Yes, I already know, but that’s not why you’re here before us. Also, I didn’t ask you to speak.” The announcer slaps the soldier right across his face. A tooth is shot out and rolls off the podium and into the crowd. “You’re here to honor a friend’s six month death anniversary.”

His torturer moves his hand into his cloak and pierces a dagger into the soldier's stomach. Forcing the blade to go right through the soldier, the soldier gags and starts shaking. Then, he returns to screaming when the weapon is slid upwards. When my eyes meet with his guts and especially a beating heart, that’s when I gag. As blood is sprayed out and his organs topple to the floor, the announcer kicks him into the crowd. They pile on top of him and in the most horrific way to die they feast on the barely living, young man. Saamuki throws up with her back still turned to what now appears to be a cult. The announcer licks the soldier’s blood off of his hands and then his weapon as his followers rip right through and consume the private. It’s as if they haven’t eaten in days. It’s as if they’re wild animals rather than people. My insides are empty, yet I feel like I still have something to puke up. At least it didn’t last for long, but I, unfortunately, learned why Saamuki was so hesitant to come here. 

#205 #lost in space #writers on tumblr #writers #writeblr #creative writing #my writing #spilled ink #fiction #scifi #wlw #space

[ahellofastory]

“My photo did not lead to one act of violence, nor was it ever mentioned in any manifesto.”

One week ago, on Monday, October 14th, a fictional video was released that depicted the President of the United States leading a massacre against prominent news agencies, politicians, and female celebrities in a church. In the video, I was depicted as one of the murdered. Though pulled from the 2014 movie Kingsman: The Secret Service, the video’s imagery was chilling because it so easily matched a religious site massacre that has become all too common in America. I was outraged and scared by the video because I knew its incendiary nature would animate a certain portion of President Trump’s base and my inclusion in it would make me a target of an audience, capable of credible threats against me. This wasn’t my first time dealing with the animus of cowards behind keyboards. And my status as a darling of the alt-right media is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. In 2017, I posed for a provocative photo of me holding a Donald Trump mask covered in ketchup. The response to the photo went viral in an unimaginable way. My image was circulated and manipulated worldwide within hours through the same apparatus that operates online disinformation campaign in today’s political environment.Despite the obvious satirical nature of the photo, I became the first comedian in American history to be investigated by the Justice Department and the Secret Service for the crime of conspiracy to assassinate the President. I began a years-long fight to clear my name and defend my actions under the First Amendment of the Constitution. At the same time, I began to receive death threats, both direct and dog whistled. Thousands of them. The President’s attacks against me on Twitter only amplified this hate that soon spread to my family. My mother, who has dementia, received them in her own home. And my sister, who was battling cancer, received them in the hospital while in hospice care. The FBI personally informed me that I was on Cesar Sayoc’s pipe bomb hit list. After this new video went viral, I began receiving the familiar flurry of angry messages. The tweets reminded me that of the ill will harbored against me and that I had no right to complain because of this previous photo. At first, I prepared myself to begin yet another PR explanation tour to defend myself against the potential violence spurned by the President and his followers. But then, I saw the President’s response, his silence and his staff’s grandstanding. And my outrage turned into indignation. I reject any connection between this video and my photo. I’m a 58-year-old comic and a private citizen. I’m not the President of the United States. If you think this long, extremely violent mass shooting video is in any way comparable to the photo I took in 2017, you are sorely mistaken.  Please do not make this convenient mistake. Anyone that knows me understands that I have a long, well documented history of shining a light on things, both comfortable and uncomfortable. I recognized that the photo I took relied on an existing iconography and I had hoped its shock factor would force the President and his supporters to consider a visual representation of his countless misogynistic words and actions.  In the fallout of the photo, I realized how terrible it was for those who have lost loved ones to such public displays of violence. I apologized for any trauma my photo could have created, in particular to the mother of slain journalist, Daniel Pearl. But I cannot regret this photo, I know it will be a forever part of my life. I am willing to live with that legacy if it means being able to challenge the vitriol and misogyny spewed by our President. My photo did not lead to one act of violence, nor was it ever mentioned in any manifesto. Meanwhile, President Trump and his ideology has been cited in violence-related manifestos at least 36 times as of August 2019. President Trump has a duty to challenge the hate speech that results from his action and inaction. This video played, on loop, at a Trump super-PAC conference at a Trump resort, attended by his administration’s staff, with no challenges. Though his Press Secretary and Chief of Staff have expressed the President’s condemnation, Trump himself has said nothing and has continued to attack the media on Twitter. These attacks, paired with his silence on the video, could be a call to action to his supporters and a threat to us all. In her recent book, Rebecca Solnit wrote, “The revolt against brutality begins with a revolt against the language that hides that brutality.” Though he didn’t make this video nor endorse it, the brutality of this video is protected by the President’s silence. I’m calling out President Trump to personally denounce this viral mass shooting video he is depicted in.  He can’t skirt the issue on this one.  He has a personal responsibility as President to condemn the video and the violence it portrays and the consequences his lack of action creates for the nation.   His deafening silence is alarming and I believe he must be held accountable. 

#kathy griffin #first amendment

[unofficialkfamtranscripts]

King Falls AM - Episode Six: King of King Falls

View on Google Docs

Summary: July 15, 2015 - In an effort to learn more about his new hometown, Sammy books an interview with author and King Falls historian, Howard Ford Beauregard III, however Ben questions Sammy's intentions as well as Beauregard's facts.

[Podcast intro music]

[jazzy church organ music]

Deacon Reggie Back by popula’ deman’ from tha Lawd On High, tha King Falls Stompin’ Out Tha Devil Revival will be extended two extra Sundays. Join us for a fi’th consecutive week as Reverend Xavier “Get Right With God!” Hawthorne leads the King Falls faithful, the most turnt up celebration of tha year! Come raise your haaands to the skyy an’ annoint the son o’ God! Tha Holy Spirit will be so strong, your granny bound to get ratched!

Reverend Hawthorne God is’a Good. God is’a GreaT-a. Satan is on your back because he likes ta haTe-a. Shake ‘im off for Jesus! Just shake him off! Before it is too late! Glory, Glory Hallelujah!

Deacon Reggie Come celebrate with the most highly favored congregation in town! Just outside the city limits, off’a Route 72 and MLK. (That’s Mary-Lou Kilpatrick Drive for those coming out o’ town.) [rushed disclaimer] King Falls Stompin’ Out the Devil Revival is a trademark of Right With God Productions, all use and reproductions must have written consent from Reverend Hawthorne, or the Lord above. To God be the Glory.

[KFAM intro music]

Ben [in bg] I don’t want to do this!

Sammy And we’re back! You’re listening to King Falls AM, that’s 660 on the radio dial, and that was a perturbed Ben Arnold. We got a packed show for you this evening. We have a special guest, in the house—

Ben Sorry, folks!

Sammy What are you so fired up about, Ben?

Ben You know.

Sammy Well, our dear listeners don’t know, and we’ve got a few minutes before—

Ben B-before we talk to your guest.

Sammy Our guest.

Ben Oh, there’s no wa— I would never book that guy in a thousand years. He’s all yours.

Sammy [pleading] Ben.

Ben It’s just ridiculous! If you wanna make fun of me, do it off the air! This, is not cool.

Sammy I’m not making fun! Listen folks, I did a little research—

Ben On his own.

Sammy On my own, about King Falls history- and moreso, its history with the paranormal! So I go out of my way to book a guest that is an expert in this field!

Ben HOH! BULL!

Sammy And now Ben thinks I’m just messing with him when actually I’m just trying to get a better grasp on the supernatural phenomenon that happens in our beautiful town!

Ben [quickly] You never believe it when it happens on air, why would you bring- this guy in. You’re- you’re trying to break him. Which should be easy since he’s a—

Sammy I’m serious! I’m just trying to get a better understanding of what we’ve been dealing with the last few months, Ben. And this guy, our guest, has written a book about just that!

Ben It’s an e-book, Sammy. My mother can publish an e-book. He’s a whack job.

Sammy Why are you acting like he’s not sitting right in front of us?

Ben Oh, you’ll see.

Beauregard [HFB3 has a “High Class-Better Than You” drawl at all times] “Whack job”? You must be speaking of the 1957 3rd Street Massacre— or your journalistic career.

Sammy Uh, good evening sir. Thanks for making it down to the station tonight.

Beauregard [insincerely] Charmed.

Sammy Ladies and gentlemen, we’re being joined by- an author—

Ben [cutting in] E-book.

Sammy —and King Falls paranormal expert—

Ben Self-proclaimed.

Sammy —Mr. Howard Ford Beauregard.

Beauregard The third.

Sammy Of course. Howard Ford Beauregard the Third. How are you doing this evening, Howard?

Beauregard Mr. Beauregard. And as the common folk call it: I’m swell.

Ben *clears throat* So, Mr. Beauretar[sic]—

Beauregard Is your man speaking to me, Mr. Stevens?

Sammy [confused] No— Man?… Ben?

Beauregard You shan’t be too careful these days.

Sammy So, Mr. Beauregard. How did you come to be an expert in the paranormal and supernatural aspects of King Falls?

Ben [sounds like someone whose point is about to be proved] This should be good!

Beauregard As well you know, my family settled this town of King Falls many many moons ago, so its lineage is pure and unfiltered through my veins. My family has witnessed it all and, of course, that has been passed to me and now, through my memoir, passed down to you.

Ben *laughs* Right.

Beauregard May you ask your manservant to please hold his tongue as the adults speak?

Sammy Excuse me?

Ben Sorry! Beauregard. A-also, uh, in this century, where we live, I’m the co-host of this show.

Beauregard [condescendingly] How splendid. Your mother must be co-proud of you. Mm?

Sammy Okay. To make a U-turn back to the original point, you were saying—

Beauregard Yes. We founded this city. We know every minute detail of its hellish existence. Especially when it comes to the oft spoken about ghouls, goblins, and extraordinary happenings we are known for.

Ben [offended] King Falls is a magnificent town. There is nothing “hellish” about it.

Beauregard You’re. Welcome.

Sammy So, it is true that one could say you are a self-proclaimed expert in these matters.

Beauregard The same one might say that you are a good radio host, but… doubtful.

Ben *exasperated sigh*

Sammy Alright let’s take some callers, shall we?

Beauregard [insincerely] What fun. I love hearing from the lowlies.

Ben [muttered]Jesus— Line 3.

Sammy Good evening, you’re on King Falls AM with Howard Ford—

Ron Yeah yeah, Sammy, let me just get right down to business. First off, am I live right now?

Ben Double live gonzo, Ron!

Sammy Ron Begley, from Begley’s Bait Shop, ladies and gentlemen. What’s goin’ on, sir?

Ron Howdy boys. [angrily] But seriously this message right here is for you so-and-sos that have been comin’ down to the lake, every damn night since this tournament, lookin’ to poach on Kingsie.

Sammy Wait a second. People are attacking Kingsie?

Ron They’re tryin’.

Ben Why?

Ron I assume it’s a bunch of hillbilly heroes tryna come serve up a side of podunk justice on our majestic lake creature for the John Doe. However, it’s a damn fact now that Kingsie, who wouldn’t hurt a damn fly, had f[bleep]kall to do with that body at the Bass Tourney. But these damn perpetrators need to listen and stop comin’ on my land and into the lake with malice in mind. Lake Hatchenhaw is a place of serenity, peace and fishing, you damn fools.

Ben [fiercely] Kingsie is a King Falls treasure.

Beauregard If I believed in lake lizards living in a water puddle I call a lake—

Ron I’m sorry? Just who the f[bleep]k are you, you hoity-toity—

Beauregard Aww, the salty tongue of the smartest man in the trailer park. I do not answer to your kind.

Ron [aggressively] Son, I could get from my lake house to the top of that mountain in about 22 minutes, so you best get your gazelles on and start putting pads to pavement. You pillow bitin’ son of a b[bleep].

[click, dial tone]

Ben Kingsie is a fact, Mr. Beauregard, unlike a great deal of what you have listed in your… “book.”

Beauregard I’ll bite. What is fiction in my memoir?

Ben Sammy? Please. [“let me tear this guy apart”]

Sammy [conceding] We’re all about the facts here on King Falls AM, Ben.

Ben [rapid and eager] Chapter 2, “Smokey and the Banshee.” Hate to break it to you? but there certainly isn’t an apparition driving a “ghostly Trans-Am through town square” late night every third Sunday.

Beauregard Says you.

Sammy Says facts.

Ben Chapter 5, “Bombing Range Road Rage” you mentioned General Abilene here, saying he goes out of his way to spook people on old Bombing Range Road.

Beauregard Your point? If you have one.

Ben Indeed I do! Everyone, and I mean everyone, knows that the general is seen in Sweetzer Forest. Lights emanate from Bombing Range Road. Possible UFO activity. All of that unrelated to Abilene.

Beauregard [laughingly] Sweetzer Forest? Hah! Imbecile.

Ben [getting increasingly worked up again] And furthermore, what’s this baloney about there not being an ancient burial ground under where your family built its textile factory? And you know what? let’s just come out and say it: Why has no one in the town ever seen you in the daylight?

Beauregard We have gone on record! time and time again. There is not now nor has there… ever been an “ancient Indian burial ground.” There have been… no disturbances either. I will not tolerate any more of this tomfoolery. And furthermore! not that it’s any of your business, but as far as my complexion is concerned, I have… an aversion towards the sun! I tend to do my deals and business… in the night-time hours! You might even call me… nocturnal.

Sammy Riiight… Nocturnal. Okay. Moving forw—

Ben It’s a well known fact that your family bought that land at a steal. And it was so “reasonably priced”? because it was on the ancient burial ground of the Hatchenhaw Indians.That said, there are sightings all the time- hell, there are videos of the ghosts trying to scalp your employees during work!

Beauregard Hogwash!

Sammy Y’know, I’ve seen it with my own eyes, I think. Ben pulled up one of the YouTube videos a while back and- I’m usually skeptical but I saw—

Beauregard Graphics and special effects or what-have-you! I’ll have the two of you know I did not come on this show to be mocked. One more retort from you valley-dwellers and I’ll have you expelled from the city limits. Mayor Grisham is a close ally, so tread trepidously.[sic]

Ben Bring it.

Sammy Whoa whoa whoa! everybody, let’s just relax. This is a conversation, Mr. Beauregard. Ben here is our station’s foremost expert on King Falls history, sir. It just seems like maybe the facts and your book’s stories aren’t exactly jiving.

Beauregard Let me be quite clear, this is my last warning. If you speak ill of myself or my family one more time, I will crush you. Your livelihoods depend on this fact.

Sammy Come on.

Ben [sarcastically] Oh I’d never speak badly about your family. They had the good sense to die before you turned into this joke, bringing down their hard earned reputations.

Beauregard Fire this insolent manchild at once. He’s nothing more than Channel 13 leftovers.

Ben I… B-but I—

Beauregard Aww. Did I touch a nerve Benny? Dispute this fact to all five of your listeners. Channel 13- a respectable organization- rejected you not one, not two, but three separate occasions. You working class cretin.

Sammy [awkwardly] I think maybe we should wrap this up.

Ben No wait. Sammy, I’m gonna use a lifeline. Phone a friend?[1] and ruin this douche.

[phone ringing]

Emily [sleepily] Hello?

Ben Hi! Emily.

Emily [suddenly more awake] Ben? Everything okay? It’s pretty late.

Ben It’s- it’s okay now that you’re on the phone. *shy, awkward laugh* You’re live by the way.

Emily *giggles* Ben! Hi Sammy! Hi King Falls.

Ben The lovely and knowledgeable King Falls Librarian, Emily Potter, everyone.

Beauregard The library? They can’t even keep my memoir in stock. What do you think about that?

Sammy [quietly] I don’t think that’s how e-books work.

Ben Hey! Miss Potter is trying to speak, Beauregard? Emily, can you… shed some light on a certain topic for everyone out there listening? All five of them.

Emily Yes. Anything for you and Sammy.

Ben We have… Howard Beauregard on the phone.

Emily Funny enough, I just finished your book, Mr. Beauregard. “King of King Falls”?

Beauregard Alas, finally someone with good sense and better taste.

Ben I’m glad you brought that up, Emily! Can you fill the listeners in on the history of the King Falls Library- which, Mr. Beauregard discusses in chapter 15 of his e-book. Did you- find any… discrepancies?

Emily Sure, Ben. Well, Mr. Beauregard mentioned the library a few times in various stories. However, he stated that during World War Two? the secret apartment was built inside the library. However, it actually—

Beauregard Ahhh! The Hitler Suite! Yes, it was commissioned by Germany, October 7th, 1944 as a possible hiding place for their infamous leader, Theodore Waldorf von Hitler.

Sammy Adolf?

Beauregard Gesundheit.

Emily I’m sorry but the apartment was actually built when the library was, in 1912. I’ve seen the blueprints and everything. Funny story, it was actually used as—

Ben Y’know, Emily, maybe we should hear him out on this one. I can see a connection forming here.

Emily *giggles* Oh Ben, you’re so funny.

Beauregard Miss Potter.

Emily Yes, Mr. Beauregard?

Beauregard You are a simpleton of the highest order, and should not be tasked to watch over a magazine, much less a palace of learning such as the King Falls Library.

Ben You son of a b[bleep]!

Sammy Ben! It’s not worth it, calm down, he’s just an old nutcase!

Beauregard Of course the two of you are thick as thieves. I should have known I was in for an ambush in this rrramshackle radio station. You two lowlifes should be honored by my presence!

Sammy Beauregard, please take yourself and go honor the dust in your mansion. We’re done here.

Beauregard How dare you. Turn this radio broadcast off this instant! I demand it. I will not be treated like this!

Ben Go.

Sammy [aggressively] If you don’t leave, Mr. Beauregard, we’re gonna be forced to call the sheriff’s department

Beauregard Well there’s no need to wake my personal friend, Sheriff Gunderson, from his slumber. He’d only throw the book at you rapscallions anyway.

Ben Your e-book isn’t worth the paper it’s not printed on.

Beauregard [sound of a chair being shoved back] [voice getting quieter as he storms off] You merry fools! I can buy this radio station! Just to fire you! Mark my words!

Sammy We’ll be waiting on those pink slips! but until then, get out of our studio, please and thank you. Well then.

Ben I hate to say “I told you so” but…

Sammy I’m sorry Ben, *sad sigh* [increasingly mumbled] y’know I was just trying to understand this stuff a little bit better.

Ben [sincerely] I appreciate that.

Sammy Folks, we’re just going to take a quick break here to get back on track but let—

Emily [softly] Hey, Ben?

Ben Hello?

Sammy Oh! Line one is still engaged.

Emily Thank you for sticking up for me, Ben.

Ben Ah! I mean, any time! I mean you, uh, you're- you’re… welcome?

Sammy Ladies and gents, Ben has just invented a new shade of red from all this blushing. You know what? tweet me @KingFallsAM right now and I’m gonna post a pic.

Ben [hissed] Shut up, Sammy.

Emily Hey, Ben?

Ben Yeah? I’m here.

Emily I was just wondering… Well, I’ve- I’ve been wondering, um, maybe, uh- And you can- say no! if you want. But, would you, possibly, like to- go out? uh, maybe to Rose’s Diner this weekend?

Ben [voice cracking slightly] Yes. I mean… Sure- maybe- we could do, something, like that! I’ll- I’ll, I mean I do. I need to… *clears throat* check my schedule. But um—

Emily Okay then! I’ll- talk to you later! Goodnight, Ben.

[click, dial tone]

Sammy Well I think—

Ben Don’t. [whispering] Let me savor this.

Sammy *chuckles* We’ll be right back after a word from our sponsors, kids.

[KFAM outro]

[CREDITS]

References

[1] Phone a friend- probably well known, but this is a reference to the show “Who Wants To Be a Millionaire”

#king falls am #king falls #kfam #sammy stevens #ben arnold #kfam transcripts #kfam ep6 #howard ford beauregard iii #hfb3 #Ron Begley #emily potter

[irken-law-and-order]

There is no such thing as ‘the greatest Irken’ criminal because they do not receive nor deserve that kind of respect enough to be remembered in irken history. All criminals within the Empire will be essentially erased as if they never even existed, they don’t even make so much as a footnote in the grand scheme of things. Unfortunately, there are a few select cases in which a criminals influence gets far enough to another species planet to be remembered or irk forbid, celebrated in their history books and subsequently stay in the minds of Irkens everywhere.

The worst of them in my opinion was ex-Invader Mooch, reportedly the shortest Invader of all time, so nobody had high hopes for him to begin with. Regardless, Mooch was given a S.I.R Unit and sent to conquer planet Forge, a planet inhabited by a canid like race known to be exceptionally ruthless and intelligent, no one expected him to survive, much less conquer his assigned planet. And yet..Mooch did just that, but the disastrous consequences that happened after the fact was an unforeseen tragedy.

The current Tallest at the time, Tallest Cross, was so impressed by Mooch’s achievement that he had to see it for himself. When Tallest Cross arrived however, he was ambushed by both Mooch and an entire platoon of Forge’s soldiers. Tallest Cross and the irkens who accompanied them didn’t stand a chance against them, and perished on Forge as Mooch declared himself defected from the Empire. Mooch is long gone now, but Forge still exists, and he is still remembered to this day, and the Empire hasn’t attempted to reconquer it since.

Mooch was one of the worst, yes but for me it would be Big Ted, though he isn’t considered big in my eyes. He’s more overcompensating. He was a blackmailer, he had connections with the biggest irken businesses and those in some of the highest positions. Tch, how he was able to do that? I would have no idea but fools for those who got tricked by him. He was a coward for living behind lies and trickery. Didn’t even show his face until his last confrontation, absolute craven. All he knew was to talk big and even if he did something, he would just let others do his dirty work. He was full of greed, wanting nothing more than power and money. He took and took from any irken without care, a cretin. He gorged on it, thinking he was going to be safe from consequences forever, the imbecile. He thought speaking in buncombe would forever keep him safe from the eyes of the Tallest, he thought wrong.

Tallest Ryso, the brilliant mind, found out about him and his faulty and corrupted ways that were plaguing the empire. Quickly and efficiently, took out the fool and the empire of greed he held underneath everything. An era of irken depression was close due to Big Ted, but Tallest Ryso was able to shut it down before it got any worse. Tallest Ryso was able to re-stabilize the empire and protect it from future beguilers that would dare try to recreate what had happened before. Any irken who dare try to imitate Big Ted are disgusting and are rightfully dealt with now-a-days, gone without any mention. 

Greatest Irken criminals... Well Mooch and Big Ted are definitely great examples—... Hm- if I had to choose in my opinion the greatest Irken criminal that WASNT Zim (Because everyone knows what he did), Mooch, or Big Ted-...

Alv and I aren’t always on the same cases, so this ones new for everyone. A long time ago, I was put on a case to defend an Irken Elite named Pok. Pok... Had made herself a bit of a reputation, not only among alien races that fell to her command but also to her Irken ranks. She had a few nasty habits.. Like cutting off the hands of her enemies or burning her insignia into the backs and chests of her soldiers (Just a couple examples so you know.. how she was). She was always brutal from the beginning- getting to work with her wasn’t so fun either... These are cases we usually don’t ask about for.. Reasons.

Her crime? Genocide. Obviously there were some war crime charges thrown in there- what with the.. the marking- and torture, or whatever else she deemed necessary to do to not only prisoners of war but her ranks as well.

Pok thought it would be a good idea, on top of everything else she’d already done, to go down and massacre a race that had a peace treaty with the Irken Empire. We were on very good terms with them until Pok led her fleet down and slaughtered over half of the planet’s population, which then lead to war, and ended with thousands of lost Irken lives. She lived through the war, of course, but was arrested. Held in Moo-Ping 10 for around 40 years before she was brought in for trial. Apparently she thought it was necessary that she get a trial and never stopped demanding one... I lost that case, and paid the price for it. I may have some personal bias in why I believe she is the worst Irken criminal out there- but she did plunge the Empire into war and slaughter millions of the Empire’s allies.. so.. I believe I have valid reasoning here.

#Fret drones #Joe blathers #Alv addresses #Invader Zim #IZ ocs #Irken law #No art #Fret #Joe #Alv #Anon

[meshkol]

Title: Souls for Bargain Pairings/Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange (IronStrange) Warnings/Rating: Endgame spoilers!!! Summary: Stephen makes a bargain. Notes: Fuck you Marvel, fuck you Russos, and fuck you Feige.  Burn in hell. Fix-it #1 of who-knows-how-many. Unbeta'd af. Fill T-3 for the Tony Stark Bingo 2019: Reunion

***IF REBLOGGING, PLEASE TAG FOR SPOILERS!***

Stephen takes a deep breath and opens a portal to the Soul Realm.

He goes inside after performing a spell to keep his feet dry and closes the portal behind him, leaving him ‘alone’ in this realm, and he begins to walk, not knowing where he’s going in this empty place but trusting his gut instinct to guide him nevertheless. He supposes that he could use a tracking spell, but despite taking years to gather the nerve for this while simultaneously doing research and fighting battles, he finds that he’s still not quite prepared for the confrontation.

He couldn’t look into the futures of this realm so he’s flying blind, he knows – the Time Stone is powerful, yes, but it can’t interfere with the realities of the other stones. He doesn’t know how this is going to go or what to expect, and while he would make the same decision again in giving up the Time Stone, he still wants to suffer for it. He’s lived millions of lives, died millions of times, seen millions of futures, and it still hurts that the choice was on his shoulders. He’s seen the pain and grief in the eyes of everyone around him, seen the judgement in their glances, and he doesn’t blame them. He made this choice, no one else, and the guilt is eating him alive. He needs to atone for that, and what he’s doing now is a damn good start.

“You understand that you’re interfering, yes?” a voice says from behind him.

Stephen doesn’t startle, just keeps walking and walking and walking in this barren world, and replies quietly, “I’m very good at interfering. I’m not planning on changing anything, and would you let me even if I was?”

There’s a moment of quiet, save the wet footfalls of Stephen’s boots and his even breaths, and then Warlock asks, “Then why do you come to this place?”

Stephen’s feet leave the shallow water in exchange for the dry, sandy shoreline, eyes taking in the expanse of silent desert and savannah in front of him. He’s thankful for the spell on his boots even more now that he’s on dry land, and leaves it intact in order to have more stable footing on the dunes as he responds, “Closure. Absolution. For both of us.”

“He knows, Sorcerer Supreme,” Warlock says. “He understands the sacrifice that he made, and understands the role everyone played. I do not believe he is happy, but he has accepted his fate. Do not give him hope where there is none.”

Stephen resists the urge to spin around and shake Adam Warlock like a ragdoll because he needs to play nice here. It’s necessary to not antagonise him needlessly, not when Stephen needs something that only Warlock can grant.

“Come, this way,” Warlock says, finally stepping ahead of Stephen though his feet do not touch the sand. “The sooner you get your closure, the sooner you can stop disturbing the peace of this realm.”

Stephen follows Warlock without replying, watching the dim red light turn his bright blond hair into strands of sharp vermillion, and tries to steady his heartbeat. He knows that his physical form is still safely absconded in his bedroom on Bleecker Street and that it’s not a real reaction, but it still feels real, despite being muted. It’s been three years since the end of the War, three long years of celebration and battles and piecing the decaying planet back together again after so long being neglected, but the distance of time between that final battle and now hasn’t erased a lot of pain and suffering. He’s terrified that it’s all in vain, terrified of the reactions from the people he’s going to see, terrified that Warlock will deny him even despite the case he’s going to make, but he has to stay focussed and calm, needs to stay in control. After all, there’s no point in fretting – he has the Time Stone, so he can always rewind and try again until he’s successful. Stephen’s always been tirelessly persistent, and he refuses to accept defeat.

In the distance, a shape comes into sight like a mirage. It’s simple and calm – only a small oasis in the middle of the endless desert – and three figures are sitting around a copse of palm trees and dry grasses. He knows who they are, knows that they were summoned by Warlock’s will alone, and his heart returns to its racing staccato, sweat dampening his palms and the skin above his upper lip. He forces himself to not wipe his hands on his robes and drag his hand through his hair, nervous ticks that will only give away how apprehensive he is, and by the time he can make out the individual features of his peers, he feels overly damp despite the lack of temperature.

They stop right in front of the figures, Warlock taking a seat on the grasses next to a small pond of red-tinted water, and Stephen swallows, trying to get his thoughts in order so he can speak coherently. His hands are shaking, both from the nerve damage that he feels even in an astral form and from nerves, and he has the sudden urge to start pacing. He refrains, despite the itch, and swallows again, opening his mouth to speak to his companions.

Except Tony gets there first.

“Hey Doc,” he says, looking fit and healthy (not half-charred and lifeless, red- and yellow-tinted eyes bulging out of socket and blood seeping from his wounds sluggishly as his heart fails, so quiet and haunted as he of-so-slowly finds rest from the agony in his broken body), but there’s an edge of desperation to his eyes, and Stephen doesn’t even have the chance to wonder why before Tony’s letting it all out. “Morgan...how is she? Is she alive, happy? C’mon, you’ve gotta know. I don’t need to know what’s happening on the other side, or how everything is, not even Pep or Peter, I—I just—please.”

Stephen feels a bit of tension leave his shoulders and he replies quietly, “She’s doing well, Tony. She’s seven now, and apparently quite the firecracker, smart as a whip and with a streak of mischief a mile wide, just like her father.”

Tony laughs, wet and harsh even as he sinks to his knees in clear, bone-deep relief, and he whispers in a croak, “Thank you. Thank you.”

“Clint? What about Laura and the kids?” asks Natasha, green eyes big and damp, and she steps over to Tony to rest a hand in his hair, stroking through the strands in absent comfort as if they’ve done this a thousand times. They probably have, stuck in the Soul Realm for all eternity, forced to simply exist without form or reason, without purpose.

“Good. Pardons came fairly quick, but he opted out of joining the Avengers once again except under extenuating circumstances,” Stephen explains. “They seem to be happy and at peace, and I can think of no better life for them. I know your little namesake is deep in cahoots with Morgan, as they’re always hotwiring something or another. It drives Pepper and Clint insane.”

Tony laughs, even as he begins to sob with his face buried in his hands, and Natasha drops to her own knees, wrapping her arms gingerly around him. “Good for them,” she teases. “Nothing better than having your own personal Stark to make things interesting. Or outrageously dramatic.”

Stephen smiles, a bit weakly but honest, and turns to Gamora. “Your family is well. They check in frequently, and are keeping in high spirits. Thor’s with them, and from what I hear around the universe, they’re causing mayhem as to be expected.”

Gamora smirks, though her own eyes are wet with moisture, and she rubs her arms with the palms of her hands as if she’s cold. “That’s a massacre waiting to happen. I’m surprised that Peter hasn’t thrown him overboard yet.”

“I’m sure he’s tried,” Stephen admits honestly, “but Thor’s a tough one when he’s motivated. They...have a lot in common.”

Her face stays mostly impassive but Stephen can physically feel the pain, which is somewhat surprising. He’s not naturally empathetic, and he’s not using any spells to be so, so he figures it’s part of the Soul Realm. He’s torn from that brief train of thought when she asks calmly, “Why are you here?”

“Ah, that is the question,” Warlock chimes, fingers tapping against a knee. “I cannot let them go, and I know you know this.”

“Your peaceful existence was decimated when Thanos destroyed the stones,” Stephen says, fighting to keep his own voice calm. “If it hadn’t been for the sacrifice of these three individuals, you would still be lost, you and all the people that have been claimed by the Soul Stone.”

“Should I help all of them leave this realm then?” Warlock argues evenly, betraying none of his emotions. Stephen sees the others stiffen from the corner of his eyes, eyes widening with the sudden possibility of freedom, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the man who was originally gifted the Stone by the powerful High Evolutionary.

“That is not my decision, and would likely consume a significant amount of power,” Stephen replies. “I am only interested in these three, to put them back where they rightly belong for the coming conflicts of this universe. We cannot do it without them.”

“Have you even asked them if they want to fight?” Warlock questions, a twinge of sardonic amusement in his tone. “This realm is peaceful, if a bit lonely without their loved ones, and returning would only lead to strife and further grief. Would it not be kinder to let them rest?”

“I don’t have to ask them,” Stephen says. “Their loved ones are under constant threat – do you not think that they would suffer through anything to keep those people safe? All three of them have already made their sacrifice for those loved ones, and they will continue to fight on the side of life until they are unable to do so.”

“You act like there is a great calamity coming. What do you know?” Warlock demands.

Stephen takes a deep breath and says with as much flatness as he can muster, “Galactus, Adam. He’s on the move.”

Gamora inhales sharply as Natasha says, “Who is that? What are we facing here?” It’s comforting to hear, as if it’s already been decided that Warlock will help release them and she’ll be joining some unknown fight. He shakes his head, silently asking her to ask questions later and opting instead to focus on Warlock, who looks pale and troubled. He knows that Warlock has experience with the Devourer, but the system containing Earth hasn’t faced such a threat before. The Infinity Stones and Thanos had been mere child’s play in comparison, and yes, Stephen needs to atone for his actions during the War, but Earth needs defenders too and besides, Tony Stark is a man that Earth needs. Between him, Reed Richards, and Bruce Banner, they cover every specialty and science known to man, and Stephen knows that Earth desperately needs that to face the coming threat.

“I cannot create bodies, Sorcerer Supreme,” Warlock says eventually.

Instantly, Stephen retorts, “You don’t have to.” There’s a beat of silence, one of Warlock’s eyebrows quirking up in a silent inquiry and slight incredulity, and Stephen swallows once again before he says quietly, “I am the master of the Time Stone. I retrieved all of the bodies and, with the help of select individuals who I entrusted to keep silent, utilised both magic and Tony Stark’s modified Extremis to repair the soulless bodies before putting them into cryo. Putting their souls back into their own bodies is less troublesome than corpses.”

“Pepper...” Tony whispers, jaw dropped and looking horrified.

Stephen understands where Tony’s head’s at, so he explains as gently as he can, “I wouldn’t have told even her, but I needed the Extremis, and honestly, I would not want to be on her murder list if this does work and she wasn’t in the loop. I made sure to emphasise that this was a gamble and might not come to fruition, so she has no exuberant hope for your return, and I can assure you that your daughter has not been made aware of any remote possibility.”

“My God,” Gamora says almost silently. “This is actually possible.”

“Theoretically, yes,” Stephen says. “I’ve done the research and he—” Stephen gestures to Warlock, who looks carefully expressionless. “—is capable of it even without my assistance.” Stephen takes a deep breath and says with heavy finality, “Adam. I need them. This universe needs them. You have to help us or Galactus will devour us all. You know what he’s capable of, and you know the stakes here.”

There is nothing but silence, and then Warlock seems to steel himself as he says, “Alright, Stephen. But I’m coming with you.”

Tony opens his eyes.

Everything is stiff, which he supposes he should’ve expected considering that he was frozen for over three years, but ultimately he’s unconcerned in the wake of everything else. In his immediate vision, blurry as it is, he can see Pepper and Happy, Peter and Harley, and a tall, young girl with his own brown eyes and dark hair, a wide grin on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks. She’s beautiful and perfect, his precious little angel, and all he can do is reach helplessly towards her despite his shaking, weak arms, his own tears already starting to trickle down his face.

She rushes towards him despite a few half-hearted words to take it easy, but he doesn’t care that she’s crushing him with the strength of her hug if it means that he can hold her, doesn’t care that he can feel his hospital gown growing wet and sticky with mucus and tears if he can bury his own face into her sweet-smelling hair, doesn’t care that she’s sobbing so loudly that it hurts his ears if he can just cherish the fact that he gets to hear her voice again, slightly different with age but just as precious and familiar. He loves this tiny little human, his flesh and blood and soul and heart, with every iota of his person, and it is an immeasurable gift to be able to hold her once again, to hear her choke out I love you daddy I’ve missed you so much though the tears.

He weeps and whispers soft words into his daughter’s hair, and breathes.

“Hey stranger,” he hears echo into the empty front from of the Sanctum.

Stephen recognises the voice but doesn’t stop his reading until he gets to the end of the chapter, humming slightly under his breath as he closes the finished book. He glances up, taking in the very-much-alive man standing a bit awkwardly in the door, fiddling with a phone in his hand like he’s itching to tear it apart for something to do.

“Tony,” Stephen greets in return, pleased when his tone remains calm despite the nerves in his stomach. They’ve interacted a lot over the past year, coming up with plans for Galactus while managing the veritable madhouse that is Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff Are Alive! He’s seen Tony in so many ways (a father, a friend, and champion...a complete arsehole) and he understands why people are always saying that Anthony Stark is a conundrum. He’s the type of man that can only be loved or hated, no grey area in between, and oh, Stephen loves him. Desperately so.

It’s only gotten worse since everything settled, because he knows it’s not appropriate nor is it the right time. They’re preparing for the next conflict, and despite a year to come to terms with it, Pepper is still married to Happy Hogan now, and Stephen knows that Tony’s both gutted and happy that she’s moved on with a great man who’s treated his daughter right. And regardless, Stephen did send Tony on a suicide mission, and no amount of casual flirting or playfully sarcastic banter can erase that, he knows. Stephen’s going mad with want, but he’s not an idiot – he hasn’t got a chance with Tony and he’s accepted that.

Tony huffs out a laugh, then says without fanfare, “If you’d told me that I was going to die during that fight, I would’ve still done it, y’know. I had my priorities, and my priority was Morgan and Pepper. I’d do it again, even if I hadn’t gotten out of that boring-as-hell desert.”

“I couldn’t take that chance,” Stephen replies. He hadn’t even thought to look at a future where he had told Tony how it had to end, because they hadn’t had enough time when Stephen had had the answer already. He doesn’t think Tony’s lying, honestly – he’s self-sacrificing and pure-hearted like that, despite his reputation – but it doesn’t really matter anymore.

“Yeah, I know,” Tony sighs, then leans against the Cauldron of the Cosmos with a smirk on his face.

“Stop it,” Stephen drawls, fighting a smile.

“Make me,” Tony parries back, grin widening and a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Stephen’s entire body throbs with want, and even as he’s fighting the urge to rise from his chair and pull Tony against his own body instead of the cauldron, he hears himself saying lightly, “And how would you like me to do that?”

“Well,” Tony says airily, eyes rolling up to the ceiling as if thinking, “you could send me to an alternate dimension, but that would null all your efforts to bring me back to life and where would you all be without my sparkling personality and charm. You could also portal me to Tasmania, but that just seems needlessly dramatic and a tad bit rude. Personally, though, I vote for dinner. Le Bernardin, eight o’clock sharp? I’d hate to miss our reservation, and God knows you’re dragging your feet on asking me out yourself. Idiot.”

Stephen stares at him for a long time, mouth open and eyes wide, and then he replies quietly, “Sounds like a date.”

Tony grins.

Also read on ao3.

#tony stark #stephen strange #iron man #doctor strange #gamora #natasha romanoff #adam warlock #morgan stark #pepper potts #happy hogan #ironstrange #avengers endgame #endgame compliant #fix-it #endgame spoilers #tsbd19 #tony stark bingo #rowan writes

[feelingroovie]

Popping the Myths of Israeli War of Independence

War of Annihilation

We do not care how the wars sporadically started and stopped from May 15, 1948 onward with them lasting into mid 1949 before attaining armistices. Peace would be coming later with Egypt and even later Jordan, while technically Israel is still in a state of war with the other four Arab invading nations; Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Lebanon and Syria. Don’t worry if you did not realize this, probably a fair number of Israelis are unaware of the fact Israel is still at war. There are likely a set of armistice agreements ending hostilities, but we were unable to find any reference to such between Israel and Iraq or Saudi Arabia. Perhaps we will have to settle with the fact they are not shooting at us currently and be happy with that. But the Arab-Israeli War of 1948-9 was not born in a vacuum, there were a series of initiatives which were rejected outright and even the United Nations sought some settlement which also failed and so much more to talk about and see how we got to where we are today, celebrating our independence which was established the nightfall before the dawn brought on the war. So, where do we begin.

What is difficult to believe, but just the same is true, there was a point in time when the Arab world welcomed the founding of the Jewish State and agreed over borders and everything. The year is 1920, late April to be more accurate, in beautiful San Remo, Italy where the San Remo Conference set up the preliminaries for the Mandate System. Included in this were two Mandates which are of interest to our telling, the French and British Mandates. These were set along with Italian and Spanish holdings (see map below). France was charged to form a Christian State and an Arab State while Britain was charged with establishing a Jewish State and subsequently also an Arab State. France divided their region forming Syria (Arab) and Lebanon (Christian) while Britain divided its region into Jordan (originally Transjordan and Arab) and Israel (originally referred to as Palestine and Jewish). The French attempt to make a Christian state in Lebanon was fragile from the very beginning and is close to becoming ruled by Hezballah who has military control and shares Parliamentary control. Were things to come to a head in Lebanon, the Christians would be hard pressed to mount any resistance to a complete Islamic takeover. The British never actually established a Jewish state and instead simply announced they were pulling out as of mid-May 1948 and washing their hands of whatever developed.

Colonial Structure Post World War I defined by Treaties from initial surrender in 1919 through the San Remo Conference setting up the Mandate System in 1922 plus Sykes-Picot redrawing of much of the Middle East

This is where we start our story, the British are leaving and, on their way out, they are confiscating as many weapons as they can find in Jewish towns and Kibbutzim and for expediency’s sake, they are turning these weapons over to the Arab towns which were preparing to join the war against the Jews. The evening of May 14, 1948, Jewish day begins at sundown, so for Israelis it is the next day while the remainder of the world insists on daybreak or midnight, but it is almost sundown of May 14, 1948, or 6 Iyyar, 5708 on the Hebrew Calendar. So, it is Friday, May 14, 1948 at 4 PM, a full eight hours before the official end of the British Mandate, David Ben Gurion read out Israel’s Declaration of Independence at a moving ceremony at the Tel Aviv Museum (video below). There was no shooting, no artillery, no tanks, just celebratory cheers, singing of songs and general state of joyous exhilaration from the Jewish and even some Arab towns, farms and villages. That was it, the official beginning to the Jewish State followed by recognitions which can be viewed here. The celebrations carried on into the morning, especially in Tel Aviv. The Jews and their Arab friends knew what the morning was likely to bring, so they made the most of the few hours of peace that remained.

The next morning was to bring an assault with an intent which we have found was best described so succinctly by Azzam Pasha, Secretary-General of the Arab Leagueat that time, who stated, “It will be a war of annihilation. It will be a momentous massacre in history that will be talked about like the massacres of the Mongols or the Crusades.” This was what was intended by the six Arab armies from Saudi Arabia, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt, Iraq and Jordan which were perched on every border just awaiting the command or simply the sun to rise so they could swarm across the lands on their way to the Mediterranean Sea wiping the Jews from the land retaking the region for Allah. Their invasion routes can be seen on the map below. For weeks ahead of the morning of May 15, 1948, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem Amin al-Husseini implored the Arabs who were living between the Arab forces and the Mediterranean Sea, in Israel in simple terms, to evacuate to behind the Arab lines for their safety. His claim was this would permit the Arab armies to simply slaughter every single person they came upon. There were exceptions, namely those Arab villages and towns which were to assist the Arabs by sabotaging Israeli supply and communication lines and ambushing the Israelis from behind as they faced the Arab armies advance. The Mufti promised that the Arabs could follow the armies to the sea and partake of the riches of the Jews and all the spoils of war. This was awaiting the next morning after the joyous celebratory evening and night of the Jewish People returning to their ancestral homelands after approximately a two-thousand-year absence of Jewish rule over these lands. There was great joy and few worried about the next day, but there were the select people who did exactly that as they were the ones who were to defend this precious return.

Initial Invasion Routes by Arab Armies on May 15, 1948

This was, very simply put, an Arab initiated war of intended annihilation, not Israel’s War of Independence. Israeli independence came the second David Ben Gurion finished his speech. There was no war necessary. Israel had been declared and that should have been the end of everything except for the celebrations. There was no war, the Jews did not make some amphibious assault on the beaches and push the Arabs out of their nation of Palestine. There was no nation of Palestine and the Jews were already in the land with many having come in the late 1800’s and others who could trace their ancestry back to the times of Kings Saul, David and Solomon. These were the Jews who the Romans had allowed to remain and had resided in these lands for over three-thousand-years. That is an impressive family history to be able to recount, and they can do exactly that. Others returned over the centuries and had resided in these lands for hundred upon hundreds of years. Whenever the British had used the term Palestine or Palestinian, they were referring to Israel and the Jews. The Palestine Post became the Jerusalem Post, the Palestine Philharmonic Orchestra became the Israeli Philharmonic Orchestra and so on with names of banks, hardware stores, plumbing businesses and so much more. The Arabs had their own reference at that time, they were referred to as Arabs or Jordanian, Syrian, Egyptian, Iraqi or whatever nation their family names implied. The first time any Arab became a Palestinian was with the birth of the PLO in 1964. Why did the Arabs decide to take the mantle of Palestinians? That is easy to figure out once you understand the history, they intended to steal the history of the Jews claiming that the Arabs were the ones called Palestinians and the Jews were called, well, they never said what the Jews were called because their intent was always to be rid of them so who cares what names they were called by, anyway, that would just confuse things. Their hope was that nobody would bother with the actual history and they could pull a fast one. Well, what timing, just as the Western World decided not to actually teach history, the Arabs bet that nobody would know history, what timing.

World Recognition of Israel

Well, the celebrations ended rather abruptly around dawn as the first shots fired by the advancing Arab armies starting what would be more appropriately called The Arab War of Intended Annihilation instead of the Israeli War of Independence. Israeli independence had already been established and the war was over whether Israel would continue to exist or be killed at her birthing. The other misleading tale was that Israel won this war and took over additional lands. The only way this would have been true would be if Israel had extended her rule across the Jordan River, over the Golan Heights, into Lebanon and into the Sinai Peninsula. None of these were the result. What happened instead was Israel lost control of lands which included the Golan Heights, the Shomron (Jordan controlled this renaming it the West Bank) and the Gaza Strip which Egypt took control over. These are that troubling thing called facts. When the Arabs show maps showing Israel gaining land, they use the map of the plan offered by the United Nations in the United Nations Partition Plan for Palestine under United Nations General Assembly Resolution 181. This was a nonbinding resolution which suggested a division of the land into Arab and a Jewish states. The Israelis were willing to accept this partition but the Arab League refused the plan planning on the annihilation of the Jews in its stead. When a United Nations General Assembly Resolution is rejected by any of the parties involved, it is forever negated and considered void as if it had never been proposed. So, the Arab League refusal ended any application of the division and the lands reverted to the original borders which was the Jordan River and the border between the Negev Desert and the Sinai Peninsula and the Golan Heights (see maps below). The armistice lines have become the Arab definition of what the Israeli borders should revert to now despite when they were agreed upon the Arab League insisting that these armistice lines were not to ever be interpreted or expected to be actual borders. Their intent was to deny the existence of Israel as it did not have actual borders. Now they demand a return by Israel to those armistice lines so they can have a redo on the Six Day War, another war which was intended to destroy the Jewish State which failed. During the June 1967 Six Day War, Israel liberated the lands lost in 1948-9 as well as gaining the Sinai Peninsula and some claim the Golan Heights.

Resolution 181 Division, Israel on the morning of May 15, 1948, Israel after the War and losing lands of Gaza and West Bank

That is why calling the war which began the morning of May 15, 1948, the Israeli War of Independence is actually a misnomer. Israel would have had her independence even had the Arabs not attacked that morning as she had declared her independence the afternoon before. The celebrations had gone on well into the night and even until the Arabs invaded the established nation of Israel. A better name for this war might be the Arab War of Intended Annihilation of Israel or the Failed Arab War to Erase Israel. Now that war is being fought by Arab proxies of the Palestinian Authority and Hamas and Islamic Jihad in Gaza which might be named Hamastan. Over the years, the Arab world acquired great amounts of financial assistance from the Western nations along with the United Nations and for a while the Soviet Union into the coffers of these terror entities all with the hope of peace or an end to Israel. Many of those contributing to these entities desired the latter while all claimed otherwise simply claiming they desired for the Palestinian Arabs to have their homeland back. There never has been an Arab homeland or a nation called Palestine and the main reason that so many Arabs resided in what became Israel was due to the British in cooperation with the Arab League kept moving Arabs into the land to prevent the Jews from being able to declare their homeland. The Palestinian Arab refugee problem is largely, if not entirely, due to the Arabs heeding the Mufti and then when the fighting was over, instead of allowing them to return, something Israel was willing to allow, they placed their brothers and sisters into refugee camps and have kept them there ever since. They basically incarcerated just over six-hundred-thousand fellow Arabs in these camps. Over the ensuing decade, the Arab world expelled over eight-hundred-thousand Jews after denuding them of all assets and anything of worth which Israel took in and remarkably simply incorporated every last one into their society despite much hardship and difficulty. Israel did not incarcerate them permanently in camps to use as a political weapon against the Arab nations which expelled them, Israel accepted their fellow Jews with mixed joy and hardship but in the end, we are all living together mostly in harmony. Give Israel another fifty years and there will be no differentiating who came originally from where and there will be more Israelis like myself with a European father and an Arab national origin mother. In my case it was due to World War II as my British father fought in Burma and when injured he was treated in Bombay (Mumbai) where he met my Iraqi origins mother, and the rest is history. The majority in Israel is simply a case of opposites attract and Jews are intermarrying which will allow us to become completely reinstituted as a single people whose histories and futures are forever to be intertwined.

#beyondthecusp #israel #israeli #warofindependence #1948 #jewish #jerusalem #grandmufti #arab #islam #muslim #invasion #anihilation #survival #secular-jew #secularjew #judaism

[jlndlphk]

On Empathy for those who do not Deserve it

I suspect this is not going to be a popular post.

In light of the recent scandal involving now former Disney Channel actor and director Stoney Westmoreland, who has been accused of attempting to solicit sex from an undercover cop whom he believed to be a thirteen-year-old boy, I would like to talk about empathy.

First, let be me clear about what I not going to do.  I am not going to try to justify or excuse Westmoreland’s actions, because they are unjustifiable and inexcusable.  I am not going to preach to you about how you should feel about this situation.  What I am going to do is talk about how it is possible to have empathy for someone who doesn’t deserve it and why I personally cannot help but to do so.  If for any reason you feel that you cannot even engage with the idea of having empathy for a would-be child molester, I will not in any way hold that against you, but I will ask you to stop reading and refrain from commenting on what you have read so far.

One of my favorite novels is Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.  I am aware that to bring that novel up in and of itself is to open an entirely separate can of worms, since Card is a well-known homophobe. As a gay man, I certainly don’t condone his views on that subject, or really many of his views on any subject, but I cannot deny that Ender’s Game is, perhaps ironically, one of the most powerful treatises on empathy that I have even come across.  

The titular character involved as the battle against an alien race known as the Formics which has already invaded Earth twice and massacred thousands of people both times.  Almost nothing about the Formics, not least their motivation is, understood.  Thus, they have become a pure and simple monster, something for humanity to hate freely and without second thoughts.

Fourteen-year-old Ender ends up unwittingly committing “xenocide,” the authors ad-hoc term for the destruction of an entire sentient race.  He is celebrated as the hero of humankind, but feels guilty nonetheless.  Eventually, he discovers a single survivor of the Formics, a pregnant Hive Queen, who reveals to him the reason for the invasions, and he resolves to both restore their reputation and to find a home for this survivor to restart her race. To the first end, he anonymously pens a thin volume based on what the Hive Queen has told him which subsequently becomes a best-seller.  Despite the fact that it is interpreted as a work of fiction, it so moves the people that as Ender embarks on near-lightspeed travel from planet to planet in order to escape political turmoil back on Earth, his reputation slowly but surely changes from humanity’s savior to a despicable war criminal.  Ender has become the monster, and the Formics an innocent victim.

This gets the heart of the issue that Card, despite his flaws, sheds a spotlight on so skillfully.  When we are faced with a person committing a heinous and despicable act, especially if we have previously viewed that person positively, or at least neutrally, our natural reaction is to declare that person a monster.  The actions are evil, and therefore the person who has committed them must be evil as well.  Card also shows how the winds of time so often reverse course so that heroes are declared villains and villains declared victims.

There is much food for thought here.  But the most memorable quote from the novel, at least for me, is this line from the Ender: “I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves.”

Have you ever stopped to wonder why we are so quick to declare certain people monsters?  I think that quote illustrates that we do so in order to avoid understanding them. Because if we understood them, we would not so easily be able to separate ourselves from them.

I am a Buddhist, and I would like to relate a story that a teacher of mine once told me about the Dalai Lama when he visited the former concentration camp at Auschwitz.  Upon reaching the entrance gate, the Dalai Lama suddenly knelt down and clasped his hands in silent prayer.  Later on, one of the monks accompanying him asked him what he had been praying about. The Dalai Lama responded, “I was praying that I should never be involved in perpetrating such an atrocity.”

I’ll bet that’s not what you were expecting.  I know it certainly wasn’t what I was expecting the first time I heard it. Why would he think that such a thing was even possible for him?  Does the Dalai Lama harbor some secret genocidal tendencies?

No, of course he does not.  Rather he has recognized one of the teachings that all Buddhists strive to understand and embody, namely the understanding that there is no such thing as a good person or an evil person, merely good actions and evil actions, and the consequences therein. Each and every one of us is, given the right circumstances, capable of making heroic sacrifices and committing depraved crimes.

If you truly reflect, there may be something about yourself that if others found out about might lead them to declare you a monster.  And if there truly isn’t, then I guarantee there is something that I find personally even scarier: The potential to do such things.

That’s why I cannot consider Stoney Westmoreland a monster despite the fact that I can and do consider his actions to be monstrous.  Because despite the fact that I don’t want to believe it, I know that I, too, am capable of monstrous actions.  We all are, whether we are capable of admitting it or not.

But the lesson here isn’t to raise our esteem for Stoney Westmoreland or anybody else who has committed atrocities.  After all, despite loving the Formics as they love themselves, Ender ultimately destroys them (save the one Hive Queen he is unaware of at the time), albeit unwittingly. In turn, Westmoreland deserves to punished to the full extent the law provides.

No, the lesson is about ourselves.  Because if we call Westmoreland a monster, we implicitly deny that we are capable of monstrous acts, and that is often how they happen.  I’m absolutely sure that Westmoreland convinced himself that what he was doing wasn’t wrong or at least not that bad, and we are perfectly capable of doing the same.

If you are still un-swayed, I will offer up one more perspective.  Many people have been talking about the effect this must be having on the cast, but most people, including me in several pervious posts, have focused on the sense of betrayal and disgust they must presumably feel as a result of these revelations.  But I implore you to look at this from their perspective: try to imagine if Westmoreland was a great friend of yours, someone you had worked with for several years.  Given that context, do you think you would so easily be able to dismiss him a monster, separate from you in every way? Westmoreland also has a family, including a son in his twenties.  How is that poor boy supposed to feel about this?

This is one of those cases where the difference between empathy and sympathy is critically important.  You don’t need to feel sorry for the man, although I admit that, seeing this as partially a mental health issue, I do feel a bit of sympathy for his internal issues, even though they are absolutely no excuse for his external behavior.  The only thing I suggest you try to feel is empathy, not to exonerate or lessen his actions, but to try to ensure that this doesn’t happen again.

I know this is a tough topic.  I don’t expect everyone to agree with me.  If you’ve made it this far, please feel free to comment with whatever opinions you might have.  Dissent is welcomed and encouraged, but rudeness and abuse are not.

#nuance #empathy #ender's game #orson scott card #andi mack #stoney westmoreland #dalai lama #buddhism #disney channel

[originalhybridloverfics]

Good to You Ch19

A/N: I want to take a moment to discuss a few things regarding the story. One this story is not going to follow all of season one, I might use some of its themes but I’m to veer away from canon when the truth about the babies is revealed.

Secondly, Katherine and Stefan are going to have a bigger role to play in the story eventually.

And last this is primarily a Klaroline story but the side pairings will be Stebekah and Kalijah.

Warning: This chapter has smut

300 years ago, Klaus and his siblings helped build New Orleans. In their absence, a new king arose. Now Klaus returned and taken Marcel's kingdom as his own. Klaus had hoped this would bring his family together. He was wrong. 

Caroline sat tensely at the head of the long dinner table in the courtyard of the compound. She felt like she was surrounded by enemies on all sides. Being surrounded by Marcel’s inner circle around the table, it was reassuring to feel Klaus’s presence just behind her, she glanced at Hayley at the opposite end of the table, not looking too pleased to be there. Klaus reached around her, grabbing the fork next to her, calling for everyone’s attention by tapping his glass with it. “Let us begin with a toast to our shared gift: immortality. After a thousand years, one might expect life to be less keenly felt, for its beauties and its sorrows do diminish with time. But, as vampires, we feel more deeply than humans could possibly imagine.” His hand landed on Caroline's shoulder and she glanced up at him, catching his eyes. “Some more than others.” Klaus pulled his gaze from her and gestured toward a group of waiters and waitresses and they stepped forward joining them at the table, one for each guest. Caroline swallowed hard, she was slowly realizing sometimes bloodshed couldn’t be avoided but that didn’t mean she wanted to feed off of innocent people. She looked down when Klaus’s hand moved in front of her as he produced a glass, she could see was already filled with blood. She felt a small smile tug at her lips, appreciating that he knew she didn’t wish to take part in drinking from innocents. She accepted the glass, her fingers brushing against his. 

Klaus faltered for a moment at the simple touch, before straightening his shoulders and focusing back on his speech. “Insatiable need, exquisite pain…” The servants slit their wrists with knives, filling the cups with blood for the vampires. “Our victories, and our defeats.” Klaus continued, turning his gaze to Marcel.   When Marcel met his gaze he thought about the last time he saw Rebekah. 

“You can't afford your wounded pride. With Klaus in control of your empire, you need to give him what he craves most: loyalty.” Rebekah stressed. “Or, at least, the illusion of it.” “I took his girl. I ambushed him, tried to bury him alive.” Marcel pointed out. “He's not gonna trust me.” “He will, because he wants your allegiance,” Rebekah replied. “Speaking from my experience, I know that if you play the part, all is forgiven. But, if you give him any reason to doubt you, he will strike back.” Rebekah took Marcel’s hand in her own. “Make me a promise, Marcel. You will do whatever it takes to stay alive.” 

“...To my city, my home again. May the blood never cease to flow…” said Klaus.   “...and the party never end!” Marcel finished.   Diego watched Marcel with judging eyes. 

“I just don't get it, man. We would've stayed with you to the end.” Diego argued, looking at Marcel like he couldn’t possibly understand how his friend could have doubted how far they were willing to go. How far he was willing to go for him.   “Letting you do that would have been letting you die, and you're still my people,” argued Marcel. “Now, just follow my lead. Trust me, it ain't over yet.” Diego wanted to trust Marcel but he was no longer sure it was the right move.  

Diego raised his glass. “To New Orleans.” “To New Orleans!” Klaus echoed, his voice echoing through the courtyard. “To New Orleans,” Caroline murmured looking at every face seated at the table. How the hell was she supposed to remember every vampire who came through here? “New Orleans.” everyone echoed, raising their glass, all drinking. Caroline lifted her glass to her lips but the moment the blood touched her tongue, she had to bite down on her cheek and breathed deeply. It wasn't human blood in her glass. It was Klaus's. She would know the taste of his blood anywhere. She glanced at Klaus and saw him watching her, his lips tugging up into a tiny smirk and she quirked one perfect brow at him in response as if to say ‘really?’. His eyes only sparkled with mirth in response. More than one throat cleared, pulled their attention away to see the occupants at the table, looking at Klaus expectantly. Klaus cleared his throat, focusing back on all his guest. “I understand that some of you may have questions regarding the recent change in leadership, and I invited you here tonight to assure you that you are not defeated. No, my intentions moving forward are to celebrate what we have. What Marcel, in fact, took and built for this true community of vampires.” “What about her?” asked Diego, pointing toward Hayley. “The wolf?” “Had you'd let me finish, Diego, you would know that there is, of course, one further matter I would like to address.” he extended his arm, gesturing to Hayley at the opposite end of the table. “As many of you know, the girl is carrying my children. Consequently, I trust you will all pay her the appropriate respect. However, I understand that some of you are concerned by this vicious rumor that I intend to use the blood of our children to create hybrids. I assure you I do not.” Hayley smirked sarcastically. “Father of the year.” Every New Orleans vampire seated a the table looked highly doubtful. “It appears I will have to earn your trust,” Klaus commented, observing their lack of belief. “Very well, we'll eliminate the root of your anxiety. You see, how can I sire any hybrids if there are no more werewolves alive in the bayou to turn?” Caroline’s eyes widened as Hayley exclaimed. “What? Klaus, no!” Klaus, however, ignored Hayley. “So-- eat, drink and be merry. And, tomorrow, I suggest you have yourselves a little wolf hunt. Go ahead, have fun. Kill them all!” he smirked widely. Caroline stood from her seat and Klaus turned to her questioningly. “A word, Klaus.” she didn’t wait for his response walking out of the room. Klaus offered up a smile to his guests. “If you’ll excuse us,” he turned and followed after Caroline without question. Marcel lips tugged up in amusement, he couldn’t ever remember Klaus following around anyone but yet here he was following after Caroline without a single complaint.  

Caroline led Klaus into his new required study and whirled around to face him as he shut the door behind them. “You can’t just order a massacre to gain trust.” Klaus frowned. “It’s not like I ordered them to kill a bunch of humans.” “No, you ordered them to kill wolves. Possibly Hayley's pack which makes them her people, her family, and your children’s family.” “I am all the family my children are ever gonna need,” Klaus argued. “Klaus.” Caroline shook her head. “I need you to think about the far-reaching consequences," she took a step toward him her hands landing on his chest. “One day you’re children might want to know more about the pack they came from. Do you really want to have to tell them that their own father had them wiped out?” Klaus faltered. “This can’t be about that. I can’t think about that. Right now, we are surrounded by enemies, I need to remedy that. I need allies. We need allies.” his hands covered hers. “And to do that sacrifices have to be made and unfortunately the wolves have drawn the short stick. I value your opinion Caroline but I won’t be swayed from my decision.” he leaned forward pressing his lips to her forehead. “I can’t have the vampires thinking I’m going to use the blood of my children to make myself a hybrid army. Trust that I know what I’m doing.” Caroline sighed. She wanted to argue further but he had a point they needed allies. Still, it didn’t mean she had to like it or support it.

A blue truck was parked just outside the plantation house. Movers were packing up a large painting into the truck.   “Absolutely not, I paid for that!” Rebekah called out firmly to the worker.   “Please, you never paid for anything in your life.” Said Elijah.   “I hardly see how that's relevant,” replied Rebekah, turning to him. “Nik's just punishing us.” “Well, we've hurt him. Deeply, it would appear,” said Elijah.   “We believed the worst about him, the one time in a million when the worst wasn't actually the truth.” Argued Rebekah, believing they had been justified in their actions.   Elijah turned and started to walk away. “Where do you think you're going?” Rebekah questioned, calling after him.   “To make sure Hayley doesn't suffer for our mistakes,” answered Elijah. “Niklaus is feeling vindictive, we cannot trust that she is safe.” he left the house and Rebekah glanced at the empty home around her with a frown. 

Klaus stood talking where Cami was seated on the couch typing, transcribing his memoirs, their previous fight forgotten.   “And so then I bit Elijah and left him in the bayou with my hybrid venom in his veins. Serves him right, for making such vile accusations against me. And the way that he treats Caroline, it’s unacceptable. And then…” He noticed Cami had stopped typing. “Are you taking this down?”   ”To be clear: if the Quarter is yours now, you still need me why?” asked Cami. “My memoirs.” Klaus shot her a flat look. “A thousand years of history isn't going to write itself.” Approaching footsteps sounded and they both turned as Marcel walked in. The man looked at Cami in surprise, her presence there throwing him. “Cami. What are you doing here?” Cami looked directly at Klaus. “My question exactly.”   “Oh, it's quite alright,” Klaus said dismissively to Marcel, for the moment ignoring Cami. “She knows.” “She does?” asked Marcel once again surprised.   “That you're vampires?” asked Cami. “Don't worry, he's compelled me to forget everything as soon as I leave. That way, I'm too busy agonizing over whether or not I'm losing my damn mind to realize I'm playing spy for an immortal egomaniac.” “You know, I actually talked to him about all the compelling but he deems it necessary,” Caroline walked into the room. “He didn’t listen to me.” Klaus smiled at her. “I heard you. I always hear you, love. I just didn’t agree with you.” “There’s a shocker,” said Caroline, her lips tugging up in amusement. Marcel chose to ignore the obvious flirting going on between Klaus and Caroline and focused on what suddenly had occurred to him. “You compelled her to go out with me, didn't you?” he asked knowingly before looking to Cami. “And I thought you really liked me.” “So did I.” Responded Cami.   “I mean, to be clear, I only compelled you to give him a chance,” Klaus told Cami. “Anything you felt for him was quite real.” Cami and Marcel exchanged confused glances unsure of what was real between them and what wasn’t.   “...and for the record, the level of awkwardness we're all currently experiencing is entirely genuine,” said Klaus as he moved closer to Caroline. “You think you're so clever, don't you?” Asked Cami glaring. “Compelling the poor naive bartender. Look what I found: real me, not your compelled therapist.” she showed Klaua an old photo that looked to be from the early 1900s of him and Marcel.   “Actually I prefer "convenient stenographer...'” Klaus mused, unbothered by her anger.   “You think this is funny, messing with my mind?” Cami demanded angrily. “My sanity is not a joke!”   “No. I don't believe it is.” Klaus replied, locking eyes with her, intending to compel her. “You never found this. You will remember nothing of our life as vampires when you leave here, do you understand?” Cami nodded dazedly. “I think that just about does it for the day. You may go.” Klaus dismissed her and Cami took her things and left.” Marcel frowned after her. “If you have feelings for Cami what were you doing with Rebekah?” Caroline wondered, bringing Marcel's attention to her. Marcel frowned. “It’s complicated. I’m not sure you would understand.” “And you think my history with Klaus, isn’t complicated?” Caroline snorted. “Believe me, I know all about complicated relationships and conflicted feelings.” “I have a feeling our level of complicated differs.” Marcel arched an eyebrow at her. “Klaus came to my town, broke his curse by sacrificing someone I have been friends with since we were kids, his existence was the reason I was turned into a vampire, he terrorized my town, turned my werewolf boyfriend at the time into a hybrid who is now my ex-boyfriend not to mention he had that same boyfriend bite me. Hell, he bit me once.” Caroline leveled him with a look. “I know complicated relationships.” Marcel looked at her in slight amusement and wonder. “And here I thought you had no idea the monster that Klaus is, yet you stand beside him?” Caroline considered him for a moment. “I know who Klaus is. I’ve always known who he is but I choose to look for the best in him even when its buried deep, deep down beneath everything that makes him who he is to everyone else.” Marcel was unsure how to respond to that and instead remained silent regarding her closely.  

Hayley looked around, making sure she was still alone. She didn’t need anyone knowing she was sneaking out through the backyard of the Abbatoir.   She looked behind her again uneasy but no one was following her, she turned back around and she nearly jumped out of her skin as a figure cut in front of her. “Going somewhere?” asked Diego. Hayley opened her mouth to reply but hands wrapped around Diego’s neck before those same hands threw the vampire into the wall.   Hayley stared at Elijah in a mixture of relief and trepidation. “Elijah, you shouldn't be here. Klaus has his guys watching me.” “I wouldn't worry about them,” Elijah commented dismissively as two thuds sounded and she turned to see Rebekah taking down two other vampires who had been hidden around the corner.  “Come, we mustn't linger.” he took her gently by the arm. “We'll get you someplace safe.” “No, you don't have to worry about me. I'm fine.” Hayley pulled her hand from his grasp. “I've been deemed under protection by the almighty Klaus. It's the werewolves who need help. He ordered a wolf hunt as some jacked-up peace offering to Marcel's crew. You have to help them.”   “Out in the bayou?” Rebekah questioned, sending Hayley an annoyed look. ”Do we look like a bloody vampire-rescue-squad? I think you should be grateful we came to save you!”   “Listen. Rebekah,” said Hayley. “All my life, I've wanted to know who my real family was, and just as I find out that they're out there in the bayou, Klaus orders them killed. You wanna help me? Help my people. Please.” she pleaded.  

Klaus stepped back into the room just as Caroline turned to leave Marcel on his own. “Love, where are you going?” Klaus asked his hand, gently landing on her arm. “I’m gonna leave you and Marcel to your business,” Caroline responded. “Maybe, I’ll see what the French Quarter has to offer.” “You will,” Klaus said. “I was hoping to spend the day with you.” Caroline’s brow furrowed. “Don’t you have things you need to do now that you have the city?” “Now that we have the city.” Klaus corrected. “I want you at my side through all of it.” “Oh.” Caroline's eyes fluttered in surprise. “If you want to be that is.” Klaus' finger grazed her inner wrist. Caroline smiled at his attentiveness. “Alright, so what’s on the agenda.” “Well first, we have a meeting with Marcel.” He slipped a hand around her back and led her over to a room where there was a table set up, he motioned Marcel to follow. Marcel hesitated he had watched Caroline and Klaus’s exchange and he was thrown by how different Klaus was with the blonde compared to how he was with everyone else, including his own family. Klaus pulled out a chair for Caroline and she took a seat and he scooted her chair into the table before taking the seat next to her, and looked to Marcel, waving him over. “Have a seat.” After a brief moment, Marcel took a seat opposite Klaus. “The humans have called a meeting. They're not exactly thrilled with the new status quo.” “Why would they be?” asked Caroline. “No one ever likes change and the fact that an Original is now running things, I’m sure doesn’t help their concerns.” “How unfortunate for them,” Klaus commented. “Look, it's your show now,” said Marcel. “But you wanna know how I built what I built? Politics. A little diplomacy goes a long way, especially with the human faction.” Caroline snorted, drawing both their gazes to her. “I’m sorry,” she glanced at Klaus. “But the idea of you being diplomatic is laughable.” “Duly noted.” Klaus looked at the photo that Cami found of him and Marcel from the year 1919. “I haven't thought about this night in ages. 1919, the opera house, just before it burned. This was the end of an era. Now, in the interest of new beginnings, I feel that there are some things I should probably confess to you. But…”  He grabbed a glass of alcohol. “Where to begin?” “Thierry was never disloyal to you, I set him up in an attempt to locate my brother. He's your friend, and consequently, he can return to the compound at your discretion. Cami's part, you just learned.” Klaus listed off his deceits. “And then, there's young Joshua. I've been compelling him from the beginning, although I suspect you already knew that, as he was the one who led me into your trap.” “I may have fed the kid some information, nothing more,” Marcel admitted, not wanting Klaus to kill an innocent kid vampire or not.   “And then there's Davina. She's a powerful weapon. At this point, I'd like to keep her close at hand. I think we-” “Hold on a second.” Caroline interrupted. “Davina’s the teenage witch, right?” “Yes, correct, love,” Klaus answered, looking at her expectantly sure she interrupted him for a reason. “She’s not a weapon, Klaus, she’s just a kid who's been screwed over by the witches of New Orleans, she doesn’t need you acting as if you own her simply because you want to use her power.” “Caroline now is not the time to be high on morals. Sometimes, here in New Orleans, you’re going have to do things you otherwise wouldn’t.” “I know that but I’m never going to be okay with seeing a young girl as a weapon.” She sent him a pointed glare. “As far as Davina is concerned we’re going to have to agree to disagree.” Klaus heaved a sigh turning his focus back to Marcel who was watching the back and forth between them with slight amusement. “We should have her move into the compound here with us.” Caroline’s brow furrowed if Davina lived there she could keep a protective eye on her. She may have accepted her feelings for Klaus but she still knew his flaws, she accepted them but that didn’t mean she couldn’t interfere on Davina’s behalf. “She can't leave the attic,” Marcel said, his voice pulling her from her thoughts. “I already tried to move her once.” “Yes, about that... Turns out, your little witch is quite the actress.” Klaus informed Marcel. “She made a deal with Elijah while he was in captivity, tricked you into letting her stay put in exchange for some spells from our mother's grimoire.” Marcel nodded bitterly. “Good to know. Is that all?” “I do believe it is,” said Klaus with a decisive nod.   “I appreciate the honesty,” said Marcel. “A rare occurrence from the Mikaelsons.” Caroline quipped. Despite himself, Marcel found his lips ticking up into a smile as Klaus sent Caroline a mock glare, she only smiled back at him in response.   Klaus took a drink from his glass, eyes never leaving Caroline.   Marcel cleared his throat and Klaus slowly turned his eyes to him. “Meeting's in an hour,” Marcel told him, getting up and leaving.   Klaus returned his gaze back to Caroline, setting his glass on the table. “That went better than I expected, considering how you got the reigns of the city,” Caroline commented. “I suppose it did,” he notices her bangs had fallen in front of her face, and he reached out brushing it back behind her ear, his thumb skimming her cheek. “Enough about Marcel.” he leaned forward brushing his mouth against hers. Caroline leaned forward her hand curling around his neck, enjoying the simple kiss. 

Marcel watched as Davina stood with her back to him, painting. “You're gonna love it at the compound. I already got the best room in the place picked out.” “I can't leave!” Davina protested. “Remember what happened last time?” “I know about your deal with Elijah,” Marcel told her in disapproval of her deceit. “We can't be lying to each other. I'm trying to protect you. With the witches still looking to kill you for the Harvest, believe me, you're safest with us.” “New Orlean witches suck,” Caroline walked into the room, Klaus right beside her. She took in the young witch. She looked even younger than Caroline imagine she would. “No offense to you of course. Hi, you must be Davina. I’m Caroline.” Davina looked from her to Klaus. “You’re with him?” her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you his wife?” Caroline laughed. “Definitely not a wife but I am with him.” “I like to think of Caroline more as my Queen.” his eyes turned to Davina’s paintings and he stepped closer to get a better look at them. “I see you're an artist. Wonderful! I look forward to witnessing your many talents!” Davina turned to Marcel, glaring. “Was this his idea?”   “Davina, please. I understand you're devoted to Marcel, but Marcel is devoted to me. I assume you'll want what's best for all of us.” Klaus walked over to Marcel. “Okay, enough.” Caroline cut a look at Klaus. “This can’t be about what’s best for everyone. This needs to be what’s best for her.” Caroline turned to Davina. “Look, I am not going to stand here and lie to you and say that moving you out of here is all about you. Klaus wants you close. You’re powerful and he sees you as a weapon but you’ll be protected from the witches and from my own experiences their a bigger threat. It would be better if you were at the compound and once all this harvest business is taken care of, you can go wherever you want. Move on with your life.” Davina watched her. “You really think, it’s going to be that easy, that simple?” “No,” Caroline answered. “But it’s something to fight for. Don’t you want your life back?” Davina didn’t know Caroline and her instinct was to distrust but the blonde just seemed so genuine. “Yes.” Klaus walked over to Caroline placing his hand on Caroline’s lower back. “We have a meeting to attend downstairs.” Marcel nodded. “All I’m saying is do what is best for you,” Caroline told Davina before allowing Klaus to lead her out. “You have quite the way with words, love,” Klaus commented, as they walked from the attic.   “Its called being honest.” Caroline returned teasingly. “There are better ways of doing things than using intimidation.” “I’ll leave those ways to you,” Klaus responded as they disappeared from the room. Marcel turned to Davina. "I'll get someone to pick up your things. We'll get you settled in right. Trust me.” He turned and headed back downstairs to join Klaus and Caroline for the meeting. Davina watched him go, casting a sad look around her room.   

Father Kieran lifted his head and took notice of Klaus and Marcel and a blonde he recognized from when she came to the church with Rebekah. He believed her name was Caroline.   “Klaus, Marcel,  thank you for coming.” he greeted. “We are aware of the change in the leadership in your community, and we thought it was time to make the appropriate introductions.” The meeting was being held in a back room of St. Anne's church, several men were seated around a table. “Who is the blonde?” The Sheriff asked standing up and the Mayor followed suit. “Caroline Forbes.” Klaus leveled him with a murderous look. “And you will treat her with the same respect you would me.” The Mayor didn’t much care who the blonde girl was instead he focused on Klaus. “We wanna be sure you understand how things work around here.” “Is that so?” Klaus asked the Mayor, his audacity rubbing him the wrong way.   The Mayor nodded, not noticing the dangerous look in Klaus’s eye. ”What the Mayor means is that we just want some insurance that this new development isn't going to endanger our city or its inhabitants.” Father Kieran explained, speaking directly to Klaus.   “Look, you freaks do your thing, and we'll look the other way.” The sheriff told the three vampires in the room. Caroline glowered and Klaus looked at Marcel as the Sheriff continued to speak. “As long as our pockets stay full, we won't have a problem.” Father Kieran shot a disappointed look at the members of the council and tried to backtrack, wanting to keep things as civil as possible.  “More importantly, there are rules,” he spoke to Klaus. “No feeding on the locals, don't bring any unwanted attention to the city. History has proven that we can co-exist peacefully. However, if you cross the line…” “You answer to us.” The Sheriff told Klaus interrupting Kieran.   Caroline raised one eyebrow at the Sheriff, either the man was stupid or he didn’t know who Klaus was. Not many people lived to see another day after speaking to him like that. Klaus laughed loudly. “Okay... I'm sorry, let me get this straight-- I'm to play supplicant to this pompous ass and his ridiculous group of petty thieves?” He sighed dramatically, shaking his head, he walked toward the Sheriff and Mayor. “Here are my terms: You will take whatever scraps I see fit to leave you, and you will be grateful. If that doesn't suit you, I may decide you've outlived your usefulness.” Klaus held his hand out to Caroline. “C’mon, Love.” Caroline accepted his hand, falling into step with him. “The council here seems more corrupt than the one back home,” she commented. The Sheriff watched angrily as Klaus and Caroline walked down the aisle to take their leave. Marcel followed, annoyance feeling him at Klaus’s action. He was never going to run the city properly if he couldn’t learn to compromise with the humans.  

Klaus' and Marcel's vampire crew were deep in the werewolf encampment of the bayou not far from the lake nearby, they violently tore through the camp in search of wolves to kill. “Hey, they're obviously here. Fan out, find 'em, and bring me some heads!” Diego commanded the vampires he was leading.   “I'd rather you didn't.” Elijah appeared just meters away from Diego, Rebekah at his side.   “The hell are you doing out here?” asked Diego.   “I've come to suggest you seek other hunting grounds,” replied Elijah diplomatically.   Diego shrugged. “Suggestion noted…” he said but he had no real intention of taking the suggestion to heart. Rebekah walked up to him. “Oh Diego, it would be such a shame to have to rearrange that pretty face.” She pulled her arm back but Diego grabbed her arm, stopping her fist from slamming into his face. “What the hell do you care about wolves?” Diego asked her, releasing her arm and pushing it away from him. “Generally, I don't,” Elijah responded candidly. “However, this particular clan is not to be touched.” he paused for just a moment. “Goodbye.” Rebekah smiled sweetly at Diego, whispering. “Bye.” “Nothing here anyway,” Diego called out to his vampires. He whistled, motioning to his guys that they were going and the werewolf hunting party followed him as he led them out of the wolf encampment. “Ah, great,” said Rebekah pleased. “I think as well our job here is done.” Elijah stopped sensing something, someone nearby. “Not quite.” he vamp sped away, appearing in front of the vaguely familiar woman, Eve, she stood by a tree, waiting. “We're not here to harm you,” Elijah assured her. “Hello, again. Eve, was it?” “One of Hayley's litter-mates, I presume?” asked Rebekah, looking at the woman. “Hayley sent you here to protect us, didn't she?” Eve asked knowingly. “Tell her we appreciate the concern, but we've been looking out for ourselves for a while now. Nobody finds us unless we wanna be found.” “Well, we found you, so…” Rebekah said, her tone filled with condescension.   “Like I said,” said Eve. “There's something I thought you and your family should know about.” she started walking along a path, fully expecting the two originals to follow her, she had a map and stake in her hands. Elijah and Rebekah shared a look before following after Eve.   

Caroline and Klaus walked into a bar Klaus said Marcel frequented. “There he is,” said Caroline, spotting Marcel sitting at a table alone. “Why don’t you go and join him, I’ll be there in just a moment,” Klaus suggested. Caroline nodded and walked over to Marcel’s seat, taking the seat across from him. “Hope you don’t mind if I join you.” “Looks like you’re already making yourself comfortable.” he straightened in his seat. “I appreciate what you said to Davina.” Caroline gave a shrug. “I was only being honest. If it isn’t obvious I don’t exactly approve of a teenage girl no matter how powerful being seen as a weapon.” “Oh, you made your opinion known, love.” Klaus settled in the seat next to her, settling a bottle of whiskey on the table in front of them. “About meeting with the humans, I think it goes far more gracious than they deserved.” Marcel stared at Klaus falling silent as he poured the three of them drinks.  “You're disappointed by my lack of diplomacy,” Klaus noted. “You out of all people should need no reminder of the human capacity for cruelty.”   Marcel continued to remain quiet. Klaus' phone buzzed and he rose from his chair to answer it.  “Hello?” “Mr. Mikaelson.” The Sheriff’s voice sounded on the other line. “I just wanted to let you know that the faction's considered your terms. We've reached a decision.” “Have you?” asked Klaus, not really caring what decision they reach because they would fall in line rather they wanted to or not. An explosion sounded from outside, the ground shook slightly. It was quickly followed by the sound of gunfire, glass shattering, the windows blown in, shards of glass flying everywhere, sunlight piercing into the local vampire bar. Vampires in the bar were hit by the gunfire, some bursting into flames when the light of the sun hit them, not fortunate enough to have a daylight ring. Screams of pain and agony filled the air. Marcel saw some of his guys around him collapse from being hit, from burning. He rushed to save one of the burning vampires, Klaus moved to help him, and Caroline went to help one of the ones hit with bullets. Marcel felt a sharp pain throughout his body before he could reach the burning vampire, bullet after bullet tearing through his body. Klaus felt the same pain but he gritted his teeth against the onslaught of bullets. Marcel collapsed, falling to the floor in pain but Klaus barely noticed, all he could focus on was the awful sound of Caroline crying out in pain as she was hit with a barrage of bullets. Her cries pierced his ears, tearing at his chest, the sound of her pain doing more damage to him than the bullets had. His eyes shined amber and he saw red, immediately furious, he rushed to her covering her body with her own shielding her from further pain. Anger rushed through him as he hovered above Caroline, her face twisted in discomfort, eyes shining with pain. How dare they cause her any sort of pain. How dare they hurt Caroline!

Klaus kept Caroline close, she breathed heavily. When the attack had ended he had to remove wooden bullets from her abdomen. He hated causing her pain, seeing her cry out but it had to be done. Klaus ripped into his wrist and held it out to her. “Drink. It will help you heal faster.” Caroline's fingers curled around his wrist, her mouth closing over his blood and drinking deeply the moment she tasted his blood on her tongue. Klaus ran his hand down her hair, in a soothing motion before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, holding her close. Marcel looked at them for just a moment, anger surging through him, the vampire bar was empty besides the three of them after the explosion and the gunfire. The room was destroyed and in complete disarray. Destroyed furniture, broken glass, burnt skeletons, and desiccated vampires littered the floor around them. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Marcel flipped a table over, enraged. Caroline release Klaus's wrist, licking his blood from her lips and stood, Klaus's arm was wrapped firmly around her waist as if he was trying to steady her. She shook her head at him, silently telling him she could stand on her own. “This is on you!” Marcel whirled on Klaus suddenly. "Now that you're in charge, these are your guys laying dead. Your guys.” “You think I care about them when Caroline was hurt?! Do you?!” Klaus demanded. “Because if you do you are sorely mistaken.” “I think what Marcel here is trying to say is that I can't be the only one you care about. I'm not the only person in this city.” Caroline interjected, wanting to ward off the storm brewing in Klaus. Klaus wanted to argue that her life was the only life besides his children that mattered. However, he bit the words back. “You're gonna run this city, that better mean something to you, otherwise no one worth a damn is gonna follow you.” Marcel snapped. “No one!” “I was beginning to worry about you,” Klaus said when Marcel turned away. “I don't think I could've taken any more of this differential nonsense. I mean clearly I underestimated the faction, that won't happen again. But, tell me: Now that we've arrived to this point, now that they have come into our home, visited this upon our people, hurt the ones we care about… How would you counsel me to respond?” Caroline had a feeling Klaus was only asking out of courtesy to Marcel. She knew that no matter the answer Marcel gave Klaus would make the city's council pay. “Let's go kill them all,” said Marcel. Klaus looked to Caroline. “Are you with us, Love?” If Caroline wanted to sit this one out he wouldn’t object. If she couldn't bring herself to hurt humans even ones that had wronged her then he would do it for her. He would be her sword. Caroline thought of the council and how they only seemed to care about filling their pockets and nothing more. Vampires died because of them. She could have died. She raised her eyes to Klaus. “I'm with you.”

Eve led Elijah and Rebekah to where she was set up by the lake and was showing them a map of the surrounding bayou. “Surrounded by 20,000 acres of swamp, the ones born here who now know it like the backs of our hands, will be fine. But here,” Eve pointed at the map with her stake. “newcomers from out of state - not of Hayley's and my kin. But, word's spread about those babies of hers. A lot of werewolves wanna see this miracle pregnancy for themselves. Only now, the vampires are out looking for blood, and all these werewolves new at the bayou might not know where to hide.” “You say that like we're supposed to care,” Rebekah responded. Why would they care about wolves? “Believe me, you're gonna want them kept alive,” Eve said with certainty. “And why is that?” asked Elijah. “See for yourself,” said Eve. It would be better if they saw for themselves rather than just taking her for her word. At least this way they would have no reason not to believe her.

Davina walked into the Compound's garage. “I know you're in here, Josh. I can sense your fear.” Josh moved out from behind a car. “I heard you're moving in.” Davina smiled at the sight of her friend. “What are you doing in here?” “You might've known,” Josh said as he reached for her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. One Davina returned instantly. “You know, incognito,” said Josh, releasing her. “Gotta run for the hills, but I'm stuck here until it gets dark.” “Are you okay?” asked Davina in concern. “Yeah, yeah…” Josh started to lie but then thought what was the point. Davina was his friend. “Not really. I mean, totally led Klaus into a trap that was the most epic fail of all time, so yeah, kinda crapping my pants right now, figuratively. So far.” “It's okay. You can trust Marcel.” Davina told him. “And if Klaus tries to hurt you - I'll hurt him.” Haley stepped into the garage, having picked up in their voices. “I'm sure if you could actually stop Klaus, you would've done it already.” “You're Hayley. Klaus's mistress,” said Davina. “Ew, no.” Hayley's face scrunched up in disgust. “Never. I'm the pregnant werewolf. That is more of a title suited to Caroline. And you must be all-powerful superwitch, Davina? And let's not forget Josh, newbie vampire way out of his element, voted "Most Likely to Die Next."” “Fantastic.” Josh nodded nervously. “Hey. I'm just another one of Klaus' prisoners,” said Hayley. “Of course, it would suck if he found out you're still lurking around. Maybe there's a world where we can all look out for each other?” Davina crossed her arms over her chest, moving to stand in front of Josh defensively. “That sounds like blackmail. You know, I met Caroline today. I think I like her better than you.” “You don't even know me,” Hayley protested defensively. “And after speaking with you I don’t want to know you.” Davina retorted and Hayley clenched her jaw.

Cami rushed to the door when she heard a knock cut through the air. When she pulled her front door open it reveal her uncle. “I called you hours ago!” "I came as fast as I could. What's going on?” asked Kieran walking into her apartment. “Your voicemail sounded…” “What!? Paranoid?” Cami interrupted him abruptly. “Unhinged?” Father Kieran hesitated. “Upset.” “That picture I found. The one that was.. I don't know, a hundred years old. You said it was just a coincidence. But…” She grabbed her phone and pressed play and suddenly Camille’s own voice and Klaus's came over the line. “'My sanity is not a joke.'” “No, love, I don't believe it is.” Cami's eyes fill with tears. “...that's my voice! But I don't remember it. I think it's... I think it's some kind of mind-control, he's erasing my memory!” Father Kieran's phone rang suddenly and he quickly answered it. “Yes? They what?” a look of concern came over him and he quickly hung up, looking at Cami. “We will talk about this later.” He walked past Cami, leaving her apartment in a hurry.

“Why wasn't I consulted on this?” Father Kieran demanded upon arriving at the city council meeting where it was being held at Rosseau's. “You've been gone for over eight months, Kieran.” The Mayor reminded. “We got used to doing things on our own.” “This Klaus Mikaelson, I don't care who he is or what the rumors say. He needed to be taught a lesson.” said the Sheriff, believing what they had done was the right choice. “You are gonna start a war!” Kieran exclaimed, not understanding how they could be so stupid. “I'd like to see them try.” The Sheriff replied. “Oh, and Kieran, this is the last time you call a meeting. Next time you wanna criticize our leadership, send a damn email.” Father Kieran forehead creased in a look of confusion. “I thought you called this meeting...?” “The hell we did.” The Sheriff bit out. “Actually, I called it.” Klaus entered the room, Caroline and Marcel on either side of him. “It appears I made a grave error during our earlier conference. My friend Marcel offered me wise counsel, and I failed to heed it.” “I'm glad to hear you've learned your lesson.” The Sheriff replied, smugly feeling superior that a vampire with Klaus reputation was backing down to him. “Oh, I won't be making that mistake again.” Klaus turned his head to Caroline. “Love, take your pick. Who should be the first to go?” “What?” The Mayor’s gaze snapped to Caroline. Caroline looked from the Sheriff to The Mayor. The Sheriff was clearly a smug entitled asshole but it was the Mayor who was meant to do what was in the city's best interest but the only interest he was concerned with was his own. She flashed behind the mayor, her hands gripping his head and twisted it violently, the bones breaking. She shoved him forward his body hitting table, slumping forward. Klaus smirked, his eyes never leaving her as he said. “Marcel.” Marcel vamp sped to the Sheriff, stabbing him through the neck, coating his hands in blood. Marcel grinned, content with what he just did, watching the Sheriff bleed out as screams filled the air. Caroline looked around her. She didn't relish causing fear and panic but if she was honest with the darkest part of herself. It had felt good taking the life of The Mayor and knowing the kind of man he was made it easier. Klaus approached Caroline, smiling. He hadn't been sure if she would be able to kill any of the council members but when she did he couldn't explain it he felt proud. It was like watching her starting to embrace the vampire she was. “There are still many more corrupt humans to exact revenge on.” He held his hand out to her. “Shall we...?” Caroline looked down at his hand and then raised her eyes back to his. She kept her eyes locked with his as she placed her hand in his. “Lead the way.” Klaus smirked and looked to Marcel expectantly. Marcel waved his arm out. “After you!”

Caroline threw her head back, the blood coursing down her throat. Warm, sweet and delicious. It was rare when she allowed herself to actually drink from the vein but it was so much better than bagging it. She took comfort from knowing that the person she was feeding on was not a good person and lessen her guilt from indulging in some of her darker vampire urges. Klaus withdrew his fangs from the neck of a woman he had drained, allowing her body to drop as he watched Caroline, enjoying the sight of her, eyes blackened and red, veins on the apple of her cheeks, blood coating the corner of her lip. Klaus could hear Marcel feeding off a body not too far away and he heard approaching footsteps but he pushed it all away only having eyes for Caroline at that moment. Overwhelmed with the urge to be closer to her, touch her. seeing her embrace being a vampire had his blood running hot. A surge of want for her alone coursing through him. He stepped over a dead body, approaching her. Caroline felt his eyes on her and looked up as he drew closer. She pushed the man she had been feeding on away and looked directly at Klaus, seeing the way his blue eyes had darkened with want had her skin prickling with awareness. She waited as he moved directly in front of her. His body so close to her own that all she would have to do is take one tiny step and she would be pressed against him. Klaus focused on the blood, coating her lips. He placed his hand against her cheek and Caroline closed her eyes, feeling her skin heat up at the simple touch. The feel of his thumb swiping across her bottom lip had her eyes opening slowly darken with lust, watching as he sucked his thumb into his mouth cleaning off the blood. “Klaus.” He stepped forward his hands reaching out to frame her face, his body surging forward as he crushed his lips to hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth tasting the blood on her tongue. Caroline moaned as he plundered her mouth, his hands twisting in her hair, she slid her hand up to the back of his neck, fisting it his hair, arching her back and pressing her chest against his, wanting every inch of her body pressed against his. Klaus groaned and Caroline relished in the sound, knowing it was because of her. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor had Caroline pulling away from Klaus and she saw Kieran looking around at all the dead bodies littering the floor. Klaus turned slowly releasing Caroline, pushing his current lust away and turned to the Father. “There he is. Our lone survivor. Such a sad day for our city.” Klaus approached Kieran patting the man on the shoulder. “Some of its best and brightest killed in a tragic boating accident on the Mississippi. Rather nasty explosion, I heard.” He looked Kieran directly in the eyes. “What am I going to do with you?” “Okay, hold up.” Marcel stood up and held his hand out for Klaus to not doing anything rash. “I've know Kieran for a long time. He's smart and he's fair. I think he can do us more good alive than dead.” Caroline stepped forward, placing her hand on Klaus’s arm, she didn’t want Klaus killing the priest any more than Marcel did. He at least seemed to care about the people of this city, unlike his now dead associates. “Not to mention he's Cami's uncle,” Marcel added. “And I'm supposed to care about that why?” Klaus glared. “Why should he get off scot-free after what the council pulled?” “Because he had no hand in hurting, Caroline,” Marcel responded, earning a look from Klaus. “You’ve made it pretty clear that’s not a line to be crossed. plus, I don't see you caring about much. It’s impossible not to nice how much you do care about her.” “It’s not like I was killed in their attack.” Caroline interrupted. Klaus's eyes shot to her. “Don’t talk like that.” He couldn’t even think about the possibility of her death. “All I really meant was that Father Kieran did not play a part in the attack and should not be punished for something that he had no hand in.” Caroline insisted, leveling Klaus with one of her looks. Klaus nodded, turning his eyes back to the Father, “Very well. Use this reprieve to remake your human faction.” “And how do you expect me to remake the Mayor?” Father Kieran demanded.  “Well, surely there's a deputy Mayor,” Klaus suggested. “Choose new leaders. Then we'll re-open negotiations.” he held his hand to Caroline and the moment she placed her hand in his, he linked his fingers with hers and led her out.

Rebekah looked around the werewolf encampments. “All these wolves really travel in style, don't they?” Elijah ignored her snide remark and opened the door to a trailer. “Empty.” “Piled on the pavement, perhaps,” Rebekah suggested.   “So, proceed then,” Elijah told her, they needed to find Hayley’s wolves. He told her he would. He gave her his word.   “Let's not, and tell Hayley that we did,” Rebekah told him. “Then, you get to impress the girl, and I can go home. You know how hovels depress me. “ Elijah smiled slightly. “I'm not trying to impress the girl.” “I should bloody hope you are, why else are we out here?” Rebekah demanded however Elijah remained silent. “Come on, Elijah! You've fallen for her, admit it. May do wonders for the stick that's lodged up your enduringly stoic arse if you did.” Elijah smiled. It’s true that he felt something for Hayley but he wouldn’t say it was love not when Katerina was never far from his thoughts. “If I admit to you that it's complicated, would that suffice? Or, are you determined to torment me throughout this endeavor?” Rebekah was about to respond but a noise nearby caught their attention, turning to find that the hunting party had returned. Diego the one leading the charge of vampires had his fangs sunk into the neck of a werewolf. Elijah vamp-sped over to Diego and pulled his head backward by his hair. “Darling, we need to stop meeting like this. This is how rumors begin!” He released Diego, placing himself between Diego and the werewolf. “You can go now.” Diego glared at him, not moving. The Originals and their superior attitude grating on his nerves. “Perhaps I'm not making myself clear here.” Elijah’s voice hardened when Diego did not make a move to do as he ordered. “This is a threat. In precisely three minutes' time, your little hunting party will become the prey. Now, based on your recent failure to subdue my baby brother Niklaus, this, despite a better than a 100-to-1 advantage. I recommend you heed my warning.” Diego with a look of frustration and embarrassment turned to his guys, motioning for them to follow him as he leaves with them in tow. “Impressive.” Rebekah complimented, smirking at Elijah.   “Well, I thought the situation demanded something a little dramatic,” Elijah responded, good-naturedly.   The werewolf, Diego had been feeding on groaned in pain on the ground. He slowly pushed to his feet. “Who are you people?” Elijah's eyes focused on a ring on a necklace around the wolfs neck with keened interest. “I would say the better question is: Who are you?” 

Klaus produced a flask, taking a drink, looking at Marcel he said. “To our united front! This act of yours, the imitation of friendship. Don't get me wrong, you played the part well enough, I should know, having played it myself. There was a time when the affinity between us was quite real.” Caroline looked between the two men, the tension between them a mix between hostile and civil. “Sure. And then you got it in your head to take what I created.” Marcel said pointedly. “When I picked up that coin I swore loyalty, Klaus, not friendship. I'm holding up my end, the other one has to be earned.” “This is probably none of my business, then again I have a habit of butting into other people’s business with the intention to help,” Caroline interjected. “How do you expect him to earn your friendship if you won’t even give him the chance to do so? Besides, it’s not like you know the whole story." Marcel’s forehead creased in obvious confusion. “What’s she talking about?” “My decision was not entirely my own.” Klaus elaborated. “If I didn't agree to usurp your power, the witches swore to kill my unborn children and Caroline. To be honest, the threat on Caroline’s life was the deciding factor.” Klaus looked at Caroline with a small smile. “I would do anything to ensure her safety.” he turned his eyes back to Marcel. “The promise of offspring meant little to me however I recalled my father; how he held me in contempt from the moment I was born. As yours did with you. I will not do to my children what was done to me. To us.” He drank deeply from the glass.   “All this - the spying, the manipulation - that's just something you were forced into. Is that it?” Marcel asked. “And what now? You feel kinda bad... "Hey buddy, it's nothing personal." Is that it?” “I admit. I was jealous.” Klaus confessed. “I saw the empire you had created on your own, without me. I saw it - and I wanted it.” “You're wrong, you know. I didn't do it on my own.” Marcel told him. “I stood in the shadow of my father my entire human life, and I never would've gotten out from under it, if not for you. You're the one who taught me that a man can't be defined by anyone but himself.” he paused, it was hard to admit he owed Klaus anything, still he continued. “So, what now?” “This community that you've built - you have their respect. Their love.” Klaus said. “I could rule them but I cannot win them, not without you. So rule with me. Side by side as equals. Friends. Brothers.” Klaus raised the bottle in an offering. Marcel looked at him, consider his offer and after a tense moment he accepted, taking a drink from it.” Klaus smiled cheerfully in response, seeing it as Marcel accepting his offer.  

Hayley walked into the living room, her eyes glaring at the man seated on the couch reading a book. “Those werewolves you ordered killed, that's my family.” “Not for long, love. I mean, this so-called family of yours, they haven't done you much good, have they?” Klaus looked up from his book but she avoided his gaze. “You said it yourself: they abandoned you and left you on your own. Now it's simply your turn to do the same.” “Maybe they had their reasons.” Hayley defended, wanting to believe that the family she wanted to reunite with so bad wanted her just as much.   Klaus tossed his book away angrily, standing up abruptly. “Yes, while I have reasons, too, little wolf. If the werewolves are dead, then the vampires have less desire to kill you. I am trying to keep my children safe. Not that you appreciate the effort when that includes you.” “And as soon as I have these babies, what happens to me then?” Hayley demanded. God, she hoped before than with Sophie’s help she would get out of here. Disappear, never to be found by Klaus. She should have gotten tips from Katherine on how to evade him for the rest of her life. Klaus stared at her, his silence answer enough for Hayley. He would no longer have a use for her and she would be lucky if all he did was send her away. “Right…” Hayley said after a long moment. “Well, lucky for me I have a little while before I find out,” she smirked bitterly. “And in the meantime, I will find a way to pay you back for this. As long as I'm in the family, as long as I carry your children inside me you can't do a damn thing about it.” she turned on her heel, storming back out of the room. Klaus glared at her retreating back, cursing the fact that he had to knock her up of all people.  A thousand years of Karma was coming back to bite him in the ass in epic fashion.

Hayley walked into Davina’s new bedroom, she didn’t bother knocking and saw the young girl searching through a cardboard box. “What are you looking for?” “My violin,” Davina answered. “It must be left in the attic.” “So, just go get it,” Hayley told her.   “I can't. It's not safe for me out there,” said Davina, as long as the elders were out there she would always be in danger. “Funny, I was under the impression everyone was afraid of you.” Hayley mused.   “The witches are after me,” replied Davina, defensively.   “You mean that crazy witch, Agnes?” asked Hayley. “Yeah, she tried to kill me too. The thing is, she's dead. Klaus killed her.” Davina looked at her in disbelief. “But.. Agnes was the last living Elder. If she's dead, then I'm safe. Marcel would've told me.” “Maybe he didn't wanna lose his secret weapon against the witches?” Hayley suggested.   “You're lying.” Davina accused. She wasn’t just a weapon to Marcel. He cared about her. He wanted her happy. “Why would I lie to you?” Hayley asked her.   “Because you want something from me.” Davina glared. “Everyone does.” “Do I want something from you...?” asked Hayley rhetorically. “Yeah, Davina, actually I do. Thanks to your friend Marcel, most of my family is cursed. They're stuck in their wolf form, except on a full moon. Now, I'm smart enough to know that every curse has a loophole. And, well, you're the strongest witch I've ever heard of. But I wouldn't lie to you to get what I want. I'd ask you. I guess that's the difference between Marcel and me.” Hayley turned away, walking out of the room, hoping her words had an effect on Davina. She needed all the allies she could get.   Davina watched her leave unsure of what to think anymore. “Looking for something?” Josh asked walking into the room and Davina smiled when she saw he brought Tim's violin with him. “I figured with you vacating, the attic would be a safe zone. Found this there.” “It was dangerous for you to come back, Josh,” Davina told him in concern.   “Yeah, well... What are friends for? Or whatever.” Josh replied and Davina laughed gently. “Hey, what did Hayley want?” “Do you trust her?” Davina asked him.   “I don't know,” Josh answered. “Why?” “She told me about a witch being killed,” said Davina. “An Elder, but I don't know if she…” “Yeah, crazy Agnes?” Josh interrupted. “I heard about that, that Klaus went all berserker on her crew. I guess it was super gross, just like heads and guts... bleh!” Davina looked at him in concern. “What?” asked Josh. “You hate the witches.” “Hayley was right.” Davina realized with a look of hurt. “Marcel is just using me. Josh, I can't stay here. I'm not gonna be their puppet, you have to get me out of here!” “Okay. But where else are you gonna go?” Josh questioned.  

Caroline ran a hand through her damp hair, after being covered in blood, she had definitely needed to wash it away. She had expected to feel guilty for the actions she took today but she didn’t instead she felt guilty for not having guilt. Her phone buzzed on her dresser and she reached for it. Rebekah’s name flashed across the screen. She swiped her finger over the ignore button, sending the call straight to voicemail. It wasn’t the first time Rebekah called her today. She had ignored those calls too. She didn’t want to talk to Rebekah. Looking at the time, she realized her mother was still waiting on her call, she quickly opened her contacts and pressed on the one for her mother’s. It ranged four times before her mother’s voice filtered over the line. “Hello?” “Hey, mom.” “Caroline! It’s good to hear from you though I was expecting your call a few hours earlier.” “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, something came up.” Caroline apologized, moving to sit on the edge of her bed. “Is everything alright?” Liz asked in concern. “No, everything’s fine,” she assured her mother. “It’s just been quite the day. How are things there?” “It’s Mystic Falls. There’s always some kind of trouble brewing. There’s nothing you can do from there for everyone back here just know I have everything under control.” Caroline thought that was her mother’s way of not telling her something but she was right and she had her hands full with the constant drama in New Orleans and it wasn’t like her friends were too concerned about her. The only one who even called her every once in a while was Stefan. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” “Enough about Mystic Falls? What about you? Is Klaus treating you well? Have you taken the time to see the city?” Liz asked. “I..honestly I’m really good,” Caroline admitted. “I mean, of course, I miss Mystic Falls but New Orleans is great and being able to experience the food, the music, it’s been great.” “And Klaus?” Liz asked uncertain if she even wanted to know. Her daughter's connection with the monster that terrorized their town was worrisome at best especially with his infatuation with her daughter. She honestly worried about his obsession becoming a danger to Caroline. “Klaus is.. You have nothing to worry about Klaus. I know you’re probably worried about him when it comes to me but you don’t have to. He’s being very good to me,” she gave a small laugh. “It might be his default setting where I’m concerned. He won’t intentionally let anything happen to me.” “Well, that’s good to know,” Liz responded. “At least I can comfort myself that your safe even if you’re not here with me.” she paused. “You have no idea how much I miss you, sweetheart. I can’t wait till all this is over and you come back home.” Caroline faltered. It was always nice to hear her mother missed her but the prospect of going home to Mystic Falls didn’t appeal to her as it once did. “Yeah, back home.” she murmured. “Look, sweetie, I have some paperwork I need to finish but I’ll talk to you soon,” Liz told her. “Yeah, sure, bye mom.” Caroline ended the call and tossed it aside. “You don’t sound like you want to go home.” Caroline looked up to see Hayley standing in her doorway. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.” “I couldn’t help it besides I wanted to ask you for a favor.” Hayley stepped further into the room. “A favor? What favor could you possibly want from me?” Caroline wondered, standing from her bed.   “I want you to ask Klaus to call off his attack on the wolves.” “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” Caroline questioned. “Don’t you think I tried that? He won’t listen to me.” Hayley let out a huff of frustration. “And what makes you think he’ll listen to me?” Caroline asked. The wolves weren’t any of her business. “Because he's in love with you. He listens to you. He seeks your approval.” Hayley looked at her with the best pleading look she could muster. “You can get anything you want from him. You can convince him to look after the wolves.” “Let me get this straight, you want me to use Klaus’s feelings for me against him to get what you want?” Caroline asked Rhetorically. “Yeah, I’m not doing that anymore. I’m done being Klaus bait. I’m done using his feelings like a weapon to manipulate him to do what other’s want.” “Caroline, that’s my family out there!” Hayley placed her hand over her growing stomach. “It’s the twin’s family, can’t you do this for them.” Caroline jaw clenched. She hated that Hayley was trying to use the fact that she cared about Klaus’s unborn children against her to get her to do what she wanted. “I won’t manipulate him. I won’t take advantage of how he feels about me.” Hayley jaw snapped shot, glaring. “Thanks for nothing.” she snapped in frustration, spinning on her heel and storming from the room. Caroline sighed, flopping back onto her bed, wondering when Hayley’s problems started becoming hers. 

Klaus was in the parlor alone, playing the piano when Rebekah walked into the room, he, however, refused to acknowledge her presence. “I stink of the bog!” Rebekah complained in disgust glaring.   “Serves you right, for your pathetic attempt to undermine my rule.” Klaus groused.   Elijah joined them when he heard the sound of his brother’s voice. “Nik, listen.” Rebekah began.   “When I order werewolves to be hunted to extinction, I expect you to stand aside and let the blood flow.” Klaus cut her off not wanting to hear what she had to say.   “How delightfully democratic of you.” Elijah threw a ring at Klaus and he snatched it out of the air examining it. “Do you recognize it?” Elijah asked. “Perhaps you don't, it has been a thousand years since you last saw it grace the hand of our mother. The ring was in possession of one of the very wolves whose extinction you just ordered. So naturally, I questioned him. He spoke of a legend. A legend wherein long ago, a chief of theirs had fathered a child to a very powerful witch. Their mythology further states that this child, a son, was later transformed into something this clan had never before seen. Something werewolf and vampire.” Klaus' eyes flickered with emotion.   “Nik, we're trying to make amends,” Rebekah told him. “We found remnants of your family. The bloodline of your true father. And we saved them from being slaughtered at the hands of the vampires you command.” “Niklaus, your ambitions have come before this family for far too long,” said Elijah, taking a step toward his brother.  “Niklaus, I beseech you please, come home.” “What home?” Klaus responded the emotion in his eyes from just a moment ago gone. “This pathetic substitute? You see, despite all your doubts, all your attempts to thwart me, I've reclaimed our true home. I took back the entire city.” “You have the audacity to boast of your victory when the mother of your children remains your prisoner?” Elijah challenged.   “It all comes down to the pretty little wolf for you, doesn't it, brother?” Klaus smirked derisively.   “Stop it, both of you!” Rebekah exclaimed.   Klaus stood up behind the piano. “Even if this is what you say it is, I have had enough of family to last me a lifetime. Why would I possibly want any more?” he pushed past them, leaving them alone in the house. Rebekah sighed and Elijah looked away with an expression of defeat. 

Father Kieran stood before the altar in his church, lighting candles. “Ah, good. You're awake.” Klaus walked down the aisle of pews, interrupting father Kieran’s solitude. “I have a favor to ask.” “I am saying prayers for the dead,” Kieran informed him. “I request a moratorium on favors for the king.” “Well, you'll like this one,” Klaus responded. “It involves helping people who need protection.” “And whom, may I ask, do they need protection from?” asked Father Kieran doing his best to remain civil. “Me. You see, I recently ordered the slaughter of a group of vagabonds out in the bayou. Turns out, I may have been too hasty. Thing is, if the vampires find out I'm protecting them, it won't sit well.” Klaus said, explaining his current predicament.   Father Kieran sighed and after a moment of hesitation, he said. “I think I can arrange something, on one condition. - For her own good, I believe it is time for my niece to leave town.” “If that’s what you want in exchange for your help, fine.” Klaus turned walking back out of the church. 

Klaus stared in at Cami, watching as she listened to recordings of their conversation, proof she had of vampires. “You're tenacious,” Klaus announced his presence. “It’s quite admirable if not a little annoying at times.” “Klaus,” Cami shouted. “you can't keep--” “You're looking for truths you don't want to find.” he interrupted her, he just wanted to get this over with and be gone from here. “Monsters are better left as fiction. It's time for you to leave this place, Cami."   “You have kept me here for weeks just so someone, anyone, would see who you really are, and now that I have you want me to leave,” Cami responded angrily. “None of this was ever about you and don’t delusion yourself. You don’t know who I am.” Klaus told her. “Then show me.” Cami challenged, grabbing his arm. “Let me see you the way you let Caroline see you.” “No.” It came out harsh and she flinched back, retracting her hand as if he burned her. “I don’t wish for anyone to know me the way Caroline does let alone you.” he locked eyes with her. “You’re going to leave New Orleans.” he compelled. “Forget everything you learned today. Forget me. Forget your reasons for staying because you no longer have a reason to.” “I no longer have a reason to stay,” Cami repeated. Klaus nodded to himself and turned and left, leaving Cami standing there, confused as to what just happened.  

Caroline glanced around at the merchants on the street, after her talk with Hayley she just really felt like she needed to take a walk and clear her head. Walking amongst the residence of New Orleans was pleasant. It was so different from Mystic Falls and it was eye-opening. There was so much more of the world out there and one day she wanted to see all of it. She turned down a street and was surprised to see Klaus walking toward her. “Hey,” she smiled when they reached each other. “I thought you went back to the compound for a shower?” Klaus looked her over in her green blouse, blue jean jacket, and a black mini skirt. “I’m assuming the change of clothes meant that you did but why are you not there now?” “I felt the need to go out for a walk, we spent all day handling vampire business, I thought I see what else the city had to offer.” Caroline shrugged. “What do you say about going for a drink then, Love?” Klaus' lips pulled into an enticing grin. “That sounds really good. Do you know of a good place around here?” Caroline asked. “I do,” he fell into step with her placing a hand on her lower back to lead the way. Caroline barely even noticed the way she leaned into his touch but Klaus did and he relished in it. Twenty minutes later Caroline and Klaus ended up in a small jazz bar. It was in a rundown area part of the city but the place itself was nicer than Caroline had been expecting. There were leather brown booths, tables, dim lighting, a piano off to the side and a small stage where a jazz band was playing. Klaus led her to the bar a hand on her lower back. “Two shots of your finest bourbon.” Klaus slapped a hundred onto the bar top. “Keep the change.” The bartender accepted his money and quickly poured the drinks. “Quite the day,” Caroline commented as she took a seat at the bar just as their drinks were set in front of them. “You could say that.” Klaus turned his body to her. “Seeing you embrace who you are as a vampire is an experience I won’t be forgetting.” Caroline gave a barely-there smile. “You want to know something I never told anyone before?” Klaus straightened, she had his full focus. “What?” “I sometimes like the feeling I get from being just a little bad. Killing if I’m being honest comes easy to me but I choose not to because I’m a good person and I don’t want to be a monster.” “You could never be a monster,” Klaus replied instantly. “Thank you for saying it but I don’t actually need to be told that,” Caroline ran the pad of finger around the rim of her shot glass. “My point is I try really hard to be good all the time and it’s not always easy to do the right thing.” Klaus was quiet for a moment. “I think you know by now that I very much like the person you are. You don't have to try to be good. I just want you to be exactly who you are.” “I always believed if you tried to change someone to be something you wanted them to be then you didn’t truly like them for who they are.” “Is that why you never tried to change me?” Klaus had to ask. Even his family had tried to change him, wanting him to be the brother they wanted. “Yes, if someone is going to change. It should be for their self and no one else.” Caroline responded. Klaus nodded and lifted his glass to his lips. “Earlier you spoke up against my choice to have the wolves hunted by the vampires? After today do you still feel the same?” “Yes, I don’t believe every wolf out there should have to die," Caroline answered. "You know Hayley came to me asking me to get you to call off the vampires?” “And is this you trying to convince me?” Klaus questioned, if it was she was being pretty straight-forward about it. “This is me telling you I don’t believe every wolf out in the bayou deserves to die,” Caroline repeated, taking a drink from her shot glass. “You’re right, they don’t. But if the vampires believe I’m for the wolves, that I would create a hybrid army with the blood of my children. They are always going to be in danger.” "You’re protecting them the only way you know you can without endangering them.” Caroline realized. “Except now Elijah and Rebekah have brought it to my attention that it’s not just Hayley’s pack out there but mine.” Emotion flickered in his eyes. “Your pack? As in your family?” Caroline questioned in surprise. “My father’s pack. Apparently, they heard the story of a wolf of their line who became a hybrid and set out to find me?” “But now their being hunted by the vampires like Hayley’s pack,” Caroline concluded. “I went to father Kieran, made a deal for him to shelter them,” Klaus admitted. “It’s all I can do. I can’t have the vampires turning against me.” “Looking at it from all perspectives, I can see where you’re coming from with the wolf hunt and wanting to protect the twins. I can even see where you’re coming from about protecting your wolves and keeping the vampires from turning against you.” Caroline admitted with a conflicted look. “But?” Klaus could sense a but coming. “I don’t like it. Any of it.” Caroline told him point blank. “It’s great that you’re at least trying to protect your wolves after sending a vampire hunting party out to the bayou and I know you did it to protect the twins. I guess, it just all really sucks. Almost everything about today sucked.” Klaus stood downing his drink and then he downed hers. “Hey! That was mine.” Caroline protested. “Come on,” Klaus held his hand out to her. Caroline looked at his hand then placed hers in his and walked them out onto the dance floor.   “Oh,” Caroline slid her hand up to his shoulders as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her impossibly close. “Is dancing supposed to make this day suck less?” “No,” Klaus stared back at her. “I just wanted to dance with you.” “Is that why you chose this place?” Caroline wondered. Klaus smirked. “Yes, in part,” “And the other part?” Caroline asked. “I wanted to take you somewhere I have never taken anyone else to. This has been here longer than most people realize and it has always been one of my favorite places when I want to leave everyone else behind.” “Yet you brought me here?” Caroline murmured, wrapping an arm around his neck. “I would never leave you behind,” Klaus swore. Caroline smiled, tightening her arm around his neck, she tugged him down until his mouth met hers. Klaus slid his mouth over hers slowly at first his hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair while the other gripped her hip. Caroline moaned from the back of her throat as his tongue slid into the wet caverns of her mouth, his tongue sliding against her own slowly, enticingly. She arched closer, pressing her chest against his, her hands grasping at his neck, giving herself over completely. Her right leg lifted curling around his calf, trying to draw him closer, desire surging through her. Klaus groaned his hand traveling from her hip, lower to the curve of her ass, pushing her tightly against him and his rapidly hardening erection. It didn’t matter to him that they were in a bar filled with people. He groaned in complaint when Caroline suddenly drew back from their kiss. She cupped his face in her hands, her blue eyes filled with want, had turned a dark sapphire blue. “Klaus.” Heat surged through Klaus. The last time he heard her say his name in that tone was the one and only night they slept together. It was filled with want and longing and just the sound of it shot right down to his dick, feeling it twitch in the tight confines of his pants. Caroline knew what she was asking him without saying the words and God, she hoped he got it because she wasn’t sure she was capable of explaining what she wanted from him at this exact moment when her body was thrumming with desire. Klaus’s hand in her hair slid back down her back, and wrapped around her waist completely, his hand curling around her rib. Caroline felt the air shift mere seconds before her back was being pressed against a brick wall, the sounds of the bustling streets nearby, she barely had time to take in the fact that they were suddenly in the back alley behind the jazz bar before he was kissing her again, his mouth devouring hers. Heat washed over, she glided her hands up his back, over his shoulders, and into his hair, fingers scratching at the base of his neck. Klaus' hands were everywhere, running over her arms across her collar bone, gliding down her torso, circling her hips and further down, past the edge of her skirt only stopping once he reached the hem of her black mini skirt, fingers grazing her bare skin, slipping beneath the fabric. Caroline felt every nerve in her body come alive with his touch and arched her back, her hips pressing against his, feeling his hardness pressing against her through the fabric of his jeans. She ran one hand down his back, slipping it in his back pocket, and pressed him tighter against her, grinding against him. Klaus ripped his mouth from her, his lips kissing down the underside of her jaw down to the juncture of her neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth. His hand slid up higher beneath her skirt, curling around her thigh, hiking it higher up his leg. Caroline tilted head back against the brick wall as his tongue trace a path across her collarbone, noting that the spot they were in was secluded enough that no one would see them. It was all about a matter of not being loud. And, yes, she was considering having sex in an alley. That was how much she needed Klaus at that moment. Klaus slid his hand from her thigh further up and cupped her clothed sex, feeling how damp her laced panties were, the smell of her arousal reaching his nose. Her scent, the feel of her, the sounds she was making was all like a sirens call to a man lost adrift at sea. He wanted to bury himself inside her but he didn’t want to push. He wanted it to be her decision. He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding when he felt her hands tugging at his belt buckle. “Are you sure about this?” Caroline’s eyes shot to him. “I’m sure I want you. Here, right now.” She unfastened his belt and with nimble fingers undid his pants, pulling the zipper down and slipping her hand inside, fingers curling around him. Klaus groaned, watching her grip him. “Tell me you're not going to regret this.” “I won’t.” The hand in his hair slid down his neck, placing it over his heart. “I want this. With you. The last time we did this. We argued. It was the heat of the moment. This, right now, while yes, it’s the heat of the moment, it’s not just that. It’s about giving into what I want.” “And what do you want, love?” Klaus murmured, cupping her cheek. “You. Now.” Her fingers tightened around him. Klaus was hoping she would say that. He curled both hands around her thighs and lifted her bracing her against the wall and his body, he reached beneath her skirt and tugged sharply at her panties, the fabric tearing effortlessly, he pulled it from her body. Caroline gasped, not expecting for him to literally rip her underwear. And why was that so hot? A fresh wave of lust hit her and she tightened her hand around him, pushing his jeans and briefs down just enough to free him. Caroline wrapped one arm around his neck and reached between them with the other aligning him up with her entrance. “Caroline.” Klaus groaned as he pushed the just head of his cock forward. Caroline let out a breath releasing her grip on his hard shaft and looped her arm around his neck with her other one, locking her eyes with his she used his shoulders for leverage, and rose up just enough and then sunk down on him, until he bottomed out inside of her, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her heels digging into his ass. Klaus' eyes widened, the feel of her wrapped around him, so perfect. Caroline’s lips parted on a silent moan, clenching around him. “Fuck.” Klaus groaned at the sensation of her gripping his cock buried deep inside of her. “That’s the idea.” Caroline breathed, eyes clouded over with lust as she rocked against him, using his shoulders for leverage to ride him. Klaus tightened his hands on her thighs, pulling his hips back before thrusting upwards as she came back down. A cry of pleasure tore from her mouth as Klaus started to honestly drive up into her, his hands digging into the sensitive flesh of her thighs She moaned rather loudly circling her hips, feeling the pleasure coursing through her taking her closer and closer to the edge of bliss that only the gratification of great sex could bring. The sounds of her moans were intoxicating and Klaus reveled in hearing her cry out in pleasure because of him, but with every thrust, every deep plunge inside her welcoming heat, she grew louder and louder. The last thing he wanted was for someone to interrupt them because they followed the sound of it. His mouth covered hers swallowing those beautiful sounds as he felt her tighten, clenching down as she came around him. He savored it, even as he felt a tingle at the base of his spine, his hips losing rhythm, wanting to commit this moment to his memory, every vivid detail. How tight she was, the way she clenched around him, the soft velvet feel of her, her hot breath washing over him, the feel of her lips against his, the warm cavern of her mouth, the feel of her body completely wrapped around him, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. He thrust up sharply, one hand moving to grasp her ass as he buried himself in her as deep as he could, pleasure washing over him as he came hard. He ripped his mouth from hers and buried his face in her neck, groaning deeply from his chest. Caroline slid her hands into his hair, holding him to her as she breathed heavily. They could've been like that for minutes, hours for all they knew. It was like time had just stopped for them and they just stayed wrapped up in each other another until Klaus eventually slid out of her and gently set her back onto her feet, though he didn’t step away from her as he tucked himself back into his jeans. Caroline brushed a hand down her skirt and ran a hand through her hair. “God, that was…” Klaus looked at her, holding his breath. “That was really great, amazing even.” Caroline finished, smiling widely, her eyes shining with satisfaction. A surprise huff of laughter escaped Klaus and he surged forward, pressing a hard kiss to her lips. God, he loved her more than he thought it was possible for a man like him to love. Before Caroline came along he didn't think himself capable of loving someone the way he did her. LINEBREAK “Look, things are good with your brother right now.” Marcel had met Rebekah in The Garden cellar like they had planned however today hadn’t gone like the way he expected it to. “He wants to run things with me - as partners. But if we keep meeting like this behind his back... You said it yourself, whatever it takes to stay alive.” “Oh, this is about survival, is it?” Rebekah challenged angrily sitting down. “If you were this pathetic a liar with my brother, I'm surprised he hasn't killed you already.” “Come on, Rebekah…” Marcel pleaded.   “The only reward anyone ever gets for loving Niklaus is suffering and death. You're choosing him over me, aren't you?” she glared, fighting back the hurt rising in her chest. “Again.” “Rebekah, I got people to look out for,” he sat down beside Rebekah. “and Klaus is offering me a chance to do that. With Davina working her magic against the witches, and an Original by my side, that's not something I can just turn my back on. Not even for you.” “When you were reliving history with my brother, did you happen to revisit what came next in 1919? Or have you forgotten our little secret?” Rebekah asked, a threat laced beneath the words. “I know the words that will make him hate you forever. Remember that when you're embracing your new "family".” 

Hayley stood on the balcony, taking a moment to herself, feeling like she failed her wolves. She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps, relaxing at the sight of Elijah. “Are they..?” she trailed off.   “They're safe. All of them.” He smiled at her. Hayley breathed a sigh of relief and threw her arms around him and Elijah returned it. “Thank you.” she pulled back. “What you did, Elijah, it means a lot.” Elijah noticed Hayley's bare shoulder and her crescent moon birthmark. “You should keep this covered up.” “I will,” Hayley replied, knowing now the target it painted on her back.   “If any of the others saw this…” Elijah cautioned.   “I promise,” Hayley swore to him, keeping her eyes on his. “I should go,” Elijah said, feeling a pull to her that he knew he should ignore.   Hayley's eyes fell to Elijah's lips, she wanted to kiss him. Elijah struggled to step away from her, his attraction to her at the surface, it didn’t help with the way she was looking at him but by some miracle, he didn’t give in. “Right.” Hayley murmured, watching as he walked away from her. 

Klaus glanced down, his fingers laced with Caroline as they walked into the courtyard of the abattoir heading toward the flight of stairs however his steps slowed when he noticed Elijah. “Haven't you had your fill of telling me all the ways I've disappointed you, Elijah?” Klaus groused his good mood evaporating. Elijah found his gaze drawn to Caroline and Klaus’s hands, clasped firmly together. When was the last time he ever seen Niklaus do something so simple, so mundane as holding the hand of a pretty girl? “Well, there is something important we neglected to discuss,” he said, raising his eyes back to his brother and then settling them on Caroline. “I owe you an apology Miss Forbes my brother brought it to my attention that I have treated you unfairly and I cannot say that he is wrong. I haven’t been the most welcoming to you.” Caroline was honestly surprised by his sudden apology.  She glanced at Klaus quickly, finding him watching his brother with an expression that told him one wrong word and he would regret it. Slowly she turned her gaze back to Elijah. “Since meeting you I’ve only seen you as a girl my brother has chosen to pass the time with. It didn’t occur to me that you meant more to him and I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have belittled your importance as someone he cares about or an individual the way that I did.” Elijah said sincerely.

Elijah hadn’t thought much of her until he saw them walking hand in hand and the look on his brother's face was completely unguarded. It was as if Niklaus felt he didn’t need to put up walls and protect himself for once and that..that was a revelation to see, to acknowledge. “Thank you for apologizing,” Caroline said, she still didn’t really like him but maybe in time she would warm up to him. “I also want to apologize for when we were first formally introduced when I invaded your mind. I know how much it bothered you. I’ll be honest I overheard your talk with Niklaus about what Damon put you through and can’t imagine having someone invade your privacy against your will help matters.” Caroline tense at the mention of Damon and she pulled her hand from Klaus’s wrapping her arms around herself like a shield and Klaus stepped closer to her, instinctively, wanting, needing to surround her with the protection, the assurance his presence could provide. “I’m truly sorry for that,” Elijah said remorsefully. Caroline nodded. “I appreciate that but I don’t ever want to talk about it.” Not with him. Not with anyone. It had been hard enough for her when she had opened up to Klaus about it. She just wanted to put it behind her. Caroline turned, unfolding her arms, she placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to give you guys a moment.” She stepped forward, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, her hand sliding down his cloth chest as she took a step toward the stairs. Klaus watched her walk up the flight of stairs before turning back to Elijah, his expression guarded. “Niklaus, I owe you an apology as well.” Elijah took a step toward her brother. “I accused you of having ulterior motives regarding the twins. I was wrong. I'm sorry.” “I imagine that must have been hard for you to say,” Klaus responded. “You don't make it easy to love you, brother,” Elijah informed him with a frown.   “And yet, you're obstinate in your desire to do so,” said Klaus, sometimes he didn’t understand his brother. Elijah claimed what a chore it was to love him yet he continuously fought for him to be a better man. “When you're ready, should you be so inclined, both you and Rebekah are welcome to join me and Caroline, here. It is, after all, our family home.” Klaus turned, walking up the stairs. “Though, I’m afraid Rebekah has some fences to mend if she does return.” Elijah said nothing watching as Klaus disappeared up the stairs.   The offer to return to their family home tempting. 

Cami had her bags packed and was all set and ready to leave New Orleans and moved on with her life when a knock sounded on her front door. Cami moved toward it, swinging it open to reveal and upset looking Davina. “Cami, I need your help.” Davina rushed out. “Marcel has been lying to me, and I can't trust him anymore.” Cami looked at her surprised. “I'm sorry. Do I know you?” “Oh, you've been compelled.” Davina realized and let herself into Cami’s apartment, closing the door behind Cami.   “Ok, what are you doing?” Cami asked utterly confused. It wasn’t every day a complete stranger came barging into her apartment.   “It's ok. I can fix you.” Davina focused on Cami intently. “I'm really sorry, but this is gonna hurt.” Davina held out her hand toward Cami, focusing her magic. She was able to removed from Josh. She was determined to do the same for Cami. Cami collapsed to the floor crying out in pain, grabbing at her skull with her hands, fingers digging into her scalp from the agony.  

Klaus made the familiar path to his room, he paused however when he saw Caroline leaning against her bedroom doorway which was next to his own room. “I’m starting to think every talk between you and your siblings are intense.” Klaus gave a small chuckle, stopping in front of her. “Oh, that was nothing. No one got their necks snapped. No one got daggered.” “Your family is so dysfunctional,” Caroline responded, reaching for his hand and playing with his fingers. “Speaking of my family, are you okay with them taking me up on my offer to stay here?” Klaus wondered. “Would it matter if I was opposed to it?” Caroline questioned. “I mean, it's their home, it’s your home.” Klaus lifted his hand to her cheek, fingers sliding into her hair. “It’s your home too, now, Caroline.” Caroline's lips pulled into a smile. “I’m fine with it though I can’t say I’ll be very welcoming to either Rebekah or Elijah and speaking of your brother, did you tell him to apologize to me?” “I might have had a word with him," Klaus confessed. "No one is going to disrespect you. Not even my family.” “I can stand up for myself but I do appreciate it.” she lifted her arms, wrapping them around his neck. “Perhaps I could show you my appreciation,” she said suggestively, her lips skimming across his stubble jaw. “If you're interested.” Klaus wrapped one arm around her back and the other curled around her thigh, lifting her up as he stepped into her bedroom. “Interested?” Klaus repeated. “That shouldn’t even be a question.” he matched her wide smile with his own. Caroline’s bedroom door shut, closing on her laugh and the sound of Klaus murmuring her name like a prayer.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!

Now, I’m gonna focused getting over this stupid flu.

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