#human confederacy

[rebelyells]

Relics of the CSS Alabama. The Alabama had so many Yankee kills that they ended up with several fancy flushing porcelain toilets. One shown here. The ships wheel was inscribed with the phrase. “God helps those who help themselves”. Captain Raphael Semmes freed a slave from Delaware they had captured on a Yankee vessel and made him part of his crew. REAL HISTORY

[bucephaly]

Literally if you think that every person around the world going back to the beginning of humanity before like 1800 was a raging misogynist please read a fucking book

[sw5w]

Tolpa Da Bunky Na Booty Cha Naga...

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:54:04

[baylardian-1]

In Acts of Contrition Kathryn finally gets to congratulate B'Elanna on her pregnancy at the ceremony with the Confederacy,,, so they're all in their dress uniforms and everything. And in the AU Janeway's got a lil baby bump as well hehehe WHATEVERRRRRRRR,,,,,,

I suppose the thought I’d had was B’Elanna asking Kathryn if she’s switched to a maternity uniform yet and Kathryn’s been beating around the bush a little. 

[bakedbananners]

Goddamn. I really wish Rick did not make a whole thing about the gods picking decisive sides in shit like WW2 and the American Civil War 💀

[daisylovesrumble]

petition: Two Schools Have Been Renamed After Confederate Leaders, Celebrating Them as "Heroes"

Did those who demanded the change make sure to include that they are white supremacists?

[hcshannon]

An AI Rap Battle

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round for an epic clash of literary quips and verbal wit! In one corner, hailing from New Orleans, the indomitable Ignatius J. Reilly! And in the other corner, representing the concrete jungle of New York City, the unconventionally rebellious Holden Caulfield! Get ready for the ultimate rap battle of characters as we witness their lyrical duel!

Verse 1:

Ignatius J. Reilly:

Oh Holden, dear boy, with your whiny despair,

You claim to be troubled, but I find you quite square.

Your catchphrases are stale, your angst is half-baked,

While your pompous complaints leave me truly unfazed.

Holden Caulfield:

Ignatius, Ignatius, with your portly physique,

Your arrogance is laughable, it's truly unique.

You waddle around, claiming to be intellectual,

But your self-importance is purely ineffectual.

Verse 2:

Ignatius J. Reilly:

Holden, my dear, your cynicism is tired,

Your pseudo-rebellion blatantly uninspired.

Your longing for innocence, it holds no sway,

Grow up, little child, and seize the day!

Holden Caulfield:

Ignatius, Ignatius, with your delusions so grand,

You believe yourself a genius, all throughout the land.

But your escapades and schemes, they're an absurdity,

A pompous fool, living in perpetual hilarity.

Verse 3:

Ignatius J. Reilly:

Holden, my dear, your judgments are bleak,

Yet you fail to see the hypocrisy you speak.

Your incessant complaining is utterly mundane,

While you pretend to be different, just like the rest of the grain.

Holden Caulfield:

Ignatius, oh Ignatius, with your intellectual rants,

You critique society with your misguided stance.

But beneath all your bluster and self-righteous screams,

You're just another misfit, lost in your own dreams.

Final Verse:

Ignatius J. Reilly:

Holden, my boy, self-absorbed and naive,

Your disillusioned ramblings, they do deceive.

Your angst is a façade, a teenage cliché,

While I, Ignatius, remain timeless in every way.

Holden Caulfield:

Ignatius, you fat slob, with your delusions so grand,

Your arrogance and ignorance, they go hand in hand.

Your ignorance of the world, it truly astounds,

But rest assured, Ignatius, your obliviousness will rebound.

Announcer: What an electrifying spectacle of literary roasting, where words clash and egos clash even harder! We hope you enjoyed this rap battle for the ages, as Ignatius J. Reilly and Holden Caulfield leave no insult unsaid.

[us-military-official]

Lincoln: We're going to stop the rebels who fight for reductions in human rights by totally suspending human rights in states that dare to support the south

Humans: um do you think maybe there's some hypocrisy there? do you think maybe the phrase "stoop to their level" is relevant here?

Lincoln: sorry, I can't l can't hear what you have to say bc you've been imprisoned indefinitely under threat of torture with no trial, no information on your own crimes, and no rights until further notice

also Lincoln: goddamn why do the people all hate me?

[rochenn]

The year is 2034. Disney announces the production of the show "Resistance: Dooku of Serenno", set during the early days of the Empire, starring CG Christopher Lee.

We begin with a flashback to Revenge of the Sith. After Dooku is beheaded, we learn that he used the Force to supply his brain with blood and oxygen. The movie is visibly retconned - as Obi-Wan, Anakin and Palpatine flee the Invisible Hand, four human parts can be spotted stealthily floating after them.

Dooku, being Dooku, survives the crash and manages to steal away. His head is surgically reattached. Don't ask why nobody else ever stitched their lightsaber-chopped limbs back on. He ends up getting prosthetic hands, anyway. David Filoni said in a behind-the-scenes interview that he thought they were cool.

Previously established canon prevents Dooku from doing anything in-character until Order 66. He lets loose in Coruscant's undercity and becomes the local kooky old man who couldn't possibly be public enemy number one until Mace Windu, freshly fried and unhanded, crashes down in front of him. What a coincidence.

Mace is still played by Sam L. Jackson. He is So Old. He is only there for the paycheck. Disney didn't know how to recast him. He is acting alongside the shell of a man who has been dead for two decades.

After a joke about missing hands that is very funny, the two get along swimmingly. They don't really talk about Dooku's various war crimes. "My droid army would never traumatize a young child," Dooku says with a wink into the camera. Remember to buy your Mandalorian merch.

Mace and Dooku organize an underground resistance on Coruscant in the spirit of the Confederacy. Mace is okay with this. Choice aspects of this arc are compelling, like the fight against fascism under the yoke of cruel state suppression, but tone-deaf allusions to the work of Sophie Scholl cause controversy abroad. Andor did it better. Critics on YouTube who thus far lauded the return of fan favorites and 'faithful casting' tear into the show for pushing the woke agenda.

Nothing Mace and Dooku accomplish has any impact on the Original Trilogy. What were you expecting? The end of the show teases a second season with the arrival of a mysterious woman. Dooku's secret wife. You never knew of her because she was never relevant before. As the final credit music slowly creeps in, she says: "Don't you want to see your son?"

The music swells and we cut to Serenno. The planet has never been mentioned throughout all 15 episodes of the show. Standing in the ruins of Dooku's castle is Dooku's son: back turned to the viewer, gazing into the sunset. Dooku II of Serenno, proud heir, turns his head. He is played by Harry Styles.

Roll credits.

[politicalprof]

From the Salt Lake Tribune, 2017:

“I am a 67-year-old American white woman. My parents enlisted in World War II to fight fascism. They both served; my mother was a nurse, my father navigated bombers. They lost friends in that bloody war so that all the world could be free of fascism. They did not fight so that some white people could claim supremacy or that Nazis could openly walk the streets of America.

White person to white supremacist person: What is wrong with you?

People of European heritage are doing just fine in the world. They run most of the world’s institutions, hold much of the world’s wealth, replicate as frequently as other humans. You’re not in any danger here. The world is changing, that’s true. Others want a piece of the pie. They work for it, strive for it and earn it. Technology (robotics) is having a greater effect on your job prospects than immigrants. Going forward, tackling corporate control and climate change will need all of our attention, ideas and energy. Put down your Tiki torches and trite flags and get involved in some real work.

By the way, the world won the war against Nazi fascism in the 1940s, just as America won the war against the Confederacy in the 1860s. Aligning with two lost causes just labels you as profound losers.

And finally, white person to white person: Like my parents before me, I will not stand idly by nor give up my rights or the rights of other Americans because you think you are better than some of us. It doesn’t work that way. All Americans stand shoulder to shoulder against your hatred and bigotry.”

Jonna Ramey

Salt Lake City

[athenamikaelson]

Written in the Stars

Klaus Mikaelson x Reader!Soulmate x Elijah Mikaelson PART 1

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, death, panic attacks, mentions of the confederacy (ew)

A/N- This will be a slow-burn series.

The reader has a brother, I know it’s not very X Reader, but it’s to help the storyline.

I brush down the black tie my younger brother is wearing, the satin fabric making me slightly cringe. 

“Are you sure you’re not going to go? We can go show those stuffy old bitches how to really party.” I let out a small huff at Theo’s question, shaking my head amusingly. 

“I’d rather not spend my Friday night with a bunch of Mystic Falls’ elite. Hearing them talk about how they’re so proud of their southern heritage,” Both my brother and I let out sounds of disgust, “the Confederates lost get over it.”

Theo stands in front of the hallway mirror and goggles himself. Where I am rather introverted, my younger brother is most likely the most self-confident person I have ever met. He has called himself, “A gift to the human race,” on more than one occasion. So it takes him about a good 9 minutes to gaze at himself in the mirror before we walk out the front door to the car. 

We drive in silence, or I drive in silence as Theo hypes himself up in the passenger side mirror. 

After a 10-minute drive that seems to have taken at least twice that time, we finally reach the long driveway of the mayor’s house. 

“Why are you even going to this masquerade thing anyways, you hate dances,” I ask him as we wait behind a line of cars.

“Tyler is my football captain, and this thing is to honor his father, I’m here for my fellow man,” Theo presses a fist to his chest and puts on a fake sympathy look.

“So you’re actually doing it because you want to get on Tyler’s good side so he puts you on Varsity?”

Theo’s sympathetic look drops and is replaced with a shit-eating grin, “You know me so well.”

As we get to the front of the line of cars, I hum along to the Coldplay song playing on the radio.

“So what are you going to do while waiting for me?”

I pull my car up to the front of the “house” which is really just a mansion. 

“I have a feeling you won’t be here very long, or stay out of trouble so I’m just going to park somewhere and wait for you.”

My brother does a look that looks like he agrees with me about him getting into trouble and nods his head in agreement. I put the car in park and Theo unbuckles his seat and gets out, straightening out his suit as he goes.

“Bye nerd, don’t wait up!” Theo yells as he climbs the stairs walking past Mystic Falls’ elite. I let out a sigh and pull away to find a parking spot. 

—

My fingers graze the pages of my book as I glance at the time, Theo has been here for over an hour now and hasn’t shown any signs of leaving. I bring my back up to continue reading when a figure in the distance catches my eye. I lean forward and catch a glimpse of who I believe is Elena Gilbert. Elena’s a popular girl in my grade, who I’ve probably had two interactions within my short time here in Mystic Falls. I don’t know much about her other than that she’s dating some guy named Stefan, her parents died in a car accident and her brother is in the same grade as Theo. Theo and Elena’s brother don’t hang out either because Theo says he’s a “stoner emo.” Theo’s never been one to keep his thoughts to himself. 

Elena seems to walk with a slight limp which makes me slightly concerned but nothing to make me go out and try to talk to her. I hate talking to people in general, especially kids my age. Elena has always seemed nice but I’m not taking the risk.

 Or at least I wasn’t until I saw a man in a mask start following behind her. I may hate interacting with people but I would never let another girl get attacked if I had the power to stop it. The next thing I know I’m hopping out of my car and jogging behind them. 

“Elena behind you!” I yell to her, but I freeze as the man hits her and knocks her to the ground. I let out a yelp as I turned to try to get help but a sharp pain hits my skull and everything goes black. 

—-

“Y/N, can you hear me?” A voice comes from above me and a wave of nausea washes over me. My eyes open and close a dozen times trying to get used to the bright light before I can focus on the person in front of me. Elena Gilbert. Why is Elena Gilbert in my bedroom?  I mean she’s really pretty and all I just thought she had a boyfriend. I’m not a homewrecker. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake!” Elena whisper-yells to me as she brushes a piece of my hair behind my head and grimaces when she looks at my forehead. She brings her hand back and a wave of fear and disgust washes over me as I see her hand covered in a red liquid. Blood. My blood. I try to bring my hand up but Elena stops me.

“Don’t exert yourself we don’t want it to bleed more, okay?” She gives me a small smile but something about it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand why until I turn my gaze away from her and look at our surroundings. Dirt-covered walls, glass-covered floors, and a mildew stench are what take focus. I’ve always been sensitive to smells but with the addition of my raging migraine, I am fighting the urge to keep down the rising bile in my throat. 

My breathing starts to quicken and I can feel the start of a panic attack starting to make an appearance. 

“Elena, where are we?” I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t understand what I was saying since my words seemed to be jumbling together. 

Elena glances around us and gives me a solemn look.

“I don’t know, I woke up here a little while ago before I was knocked back out by the people that took us. I’m truly sorry about this Y/N, I would never wish for you to be a part of this.”

I furrow my eyebrows at her last comment as if she were responsible for the reason we were taken.

“It’s not your fault,” I shake my head and start tapping my fingers together one by one. It’s a thing I do whenever my anxiety gets too strong, almost as a way to ground me. 

Elena’s eyebrows mirror mine and she goes to say something but a young man with shaggy hair walks in.

“Oh goody, the other ones awake. How are you doing sleeping beauty?” 

The man starts to walk over to me with a look in his eyes that makes the bile in my throat inch even closer to the surface. But within another second Elena stands from beside me on what I can see now is a couch and blocks me from the man’s view.

“I’m the one you want, Y/N is innocent, just let her go.” 

I want to back Elena up and defend her too but with the migraine and the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now being verbal isn’t something I see happening in my current future. 

“You’re right Dopalicious, she’s not, but I can’t just let her go, what if she were to go and warn those friends of yours? Can’t let that happen now can we?” 

Elena goes to stand her ground but within a blink of an eye, Elena is shoved backward and lands on the other side of the couch. I jump backward at the action which gives the man the opportunity to come in front of me. I start trembling as I look up to him I try to push farther back into the couch but I’m squished into it as far as I can go. 

“Stay away from me,” Finally able to find somewhat of my voice again. This doesn’t seem to scare away the man, and honestly, I don’t blame him. My voice sounded like it came from a scared 5-year-old. 

“Just a taste, I’m starving.” My mouth opens to question what he says but a millisecond later I feel myself being grabbed and a sharp piercing attacks the left side of my neck. I’m hyperventilating and screaming at the same time somehow as I hear Elena’s yells from beside us. 

“Don’t touch her!” Elena’s yell comes from beside us and I’m thrown away back onto the couch. I’m disorientated as I look up to see the man before me rubbing his cheek and Elena standing next to him holding her right hand. She’d punched him. My vision strays from Elena’s red knuckles back up to the man, who has something dripping from his mouth. My chest feels like it locks up as I stare at the liquid dripping, everything seems to be going in slow motion for me as I watch the drops start at the man's chapped lips to the drops of blood falling onto the cracked hardwood floors. Wait, blood. He has blood dripping from his mouth. Had Elena punched him that hard? I start to believe that possibility until I feel a wetness drip between my chest. 

My already shaking hand comes up to my chest as I swipe a finger along the liquid. My vision blurs as the red liquid drips from my fingertip down into the palm of my hand. I can’t register Elena’s voice as she kneels in front of me and presses something to my neck. The blood coating my hand is all I can see and smell. 

“Y/N….Y/N! Just focus on my voice ok, breathe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” A cool hand is pressed onto the side of my face and I close my eyes at the embrace. 

“Ok that’s good, I’m going to stand you up to get a better look at your neck ok?” 

I feel like I’m running on auto-pilot or something else is controlling my body and mind as I stand up and grip Elena’s upper arms to keep myself steady. Elena returns the pink fabric from my neck and leans down to glance at the wound.

“Ok, it’s not as bad as I had originally thought. Just keep this here and it’ll help control the bleeding.” 

I must still be in shock because Elena has to bring the shirt to my hand, wrap my fingers around it, and finally press my hand into my neck. The shock of pain washes through me and brings me back to reality. My vision can’t seem to focus on one thing for too long as my eyes keep darting from the blood on the floor, my blood, to the look on Elena’s face, to the man standing behind us with a scowl on his ugly face. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. Blood, Elena, man. This sequence continues until another person enters the room, a woman.

“He’s here.” The woman with a pixie cut says, her voice seemingly scared.

The man next to us shifts his scowl into a look of pure fear.

“This was a mistake,” He rushes over to the woman and shakes his head. 

“No, I told you I would get us out of this. You have to trust me,” She tries to talk him down which only seems to freak him out more.

“No! He wants me dead Rose,”

The woman points at Elena, “He wants her more.” I glance to Elena who is standing in front of me slightly as if to hide me from the two strangers or cannibals. Since I’ve calmed down momentarily and I’ve begun to stop the tears that had unbeknownst to me had fallen on my cheeks, I’ve realized that I’ve been kidnapped by cannibals, that being the only reasonable explanation I can come up with.

The two cannibals start arguing about some man but I turn to Elena who looks almost as scared as I feel. 

“What’s going on Elena, who’s coming?” I whisper to her.

Elena turns her head slightly to me and gives me a frown and a shake of her head. 

“A man named Elijah, but don’t worry ok,” Elena grabs my free hand and holds it in her own, “I’m not going to let them hurt you anymore ok?”

I nod trying to find comfort in her words but the girl in front of me is 17 years old and maybe 120 pounds I don’t see how she’s going to protect us both from two cannibals and whatever mega cannibal these two are terrified of. I don’t know if the other guy is a cannibal but using context clues I’m guessing he is. 

“What are we?” The woman’s voice brings my attention back to them as I see her grab his arms. This seems to calm the man down. 

“We’re family. Forever.” 

I might’ve found this endearing if it weren’t for the fact the man had my blood drying on his upper lip and they were literal cannibals. 

A loud knock startles all four of us as Elena and I both shoot each other wary glances. Our hands are still intertwined. I don’t usually like being touched but given the circumstances I can let this slide. 

The woman looks over at Elena and me as Elena slightly turns her head, “You’re scared.” Elena comments. The woman says something else to her friend and then runs up the stairs 

—

What seems like forever of waiting and pacing around is broken up by footsteps coming from the top of the banister. I can feel Elena freeze up from beside me as we both look up to see a man in a suit staring down at her. The man has dark hair and eyes and a chiseled face. Why is this cannibal not ugly? Wrong Turn had it all wrong. We all stand there watching Elena and the suited cannibal stare at each other. I can feel Elena’s shaking hand in my own and try to comfort her by squeezing her hand to let her know I’m right beside her. That is until the man transports himself from the top of the banister to in front of Elena in the blink of an eye. The movement has me losing my balance and falling back onto the couch. 

No one seems to notice me as my panic attack starts to build up as I try to understand how this is possible. How could he have been that fast, it’s impossible. Oh god, I'm going to throw up. 

“And who is this?” A deep voice comes from above me and my stomach flips at the sound. Defiantly going to throw up. 

“She’s no one. She has nothing to do with this, just please leave her alone.” 

Hearing Elena’s voice makes me raise my head and I regret it instantly because I lock eyes with the suited monster who is now standing above me staring down at me. The man’s face instantly goes slack as his eyes meet mine, a look of recognition seems to pass through his dark eyes as they move fast across my face. The man opens and closes his mouth many times as if he can’t quite find the right words to say. The slack expression from before softens into something that makes my stomach flip again. This guy is so going to kill me when I throw up on his expensive ass shoes. His soft, dark pink lips curve up at the corners slightly.

“You’re real.” 

These are the first words to come out of the man’s mouth. Everyone else in the room seems to know just as much as me with what he’s talking about because they all have looks of confusion on their faces. Feels somewhat comforting to be on the same page as everyone else for once. 

The man doesn’t once take his eyes off of me this entire time though, “What is your name, Elskan?” 

I freeze under his stare and try to avert my eyes, this gives Elena the ability to step in for me. 

“Her name is Y/N,” I look to the man as he mouths my name slightly to himself as if he wants to know how it sounds on his tongue, “Please don’t hurt her Elijah, she doesn’t even know about the supernatural, I’ll go with you willingly.” 

Elena’s words make me freeze up. What does she mean by supernatural? I flinch as the man, Elijah, brings his hand up. This stops him for a moment. 

“I would never harm you. You have my word on that.” I can only sit there frozen as he cups my face with his hand and uses his thumb to brush a stray tear away that must’ve fallen during one of my many panic attacks. He seems delighted at the moment until the soft expression he has on his face darkens into something that makes that bile rise even farther up. His eyes dart from the top of my head and drag themselves down to my chest and neck. I try to move away but his hand has a soft but firm hold on my face. 

“Who did this to you?” 

My eyebrows furrow at his question, and I must’ve not answered quickly enough because he turns to glare at Elena. Which makes her flinch.

“The head injury is from the kidnapping and then the bite is from um,” she glances towards my neck and then to Trevor who looks like he’s about to internally combust. She goes silent again at Elijah’s stare and he turns his attention back towards me. The glare was long gone and replaced once again with a softer look.

“I see. Here,” I have to swallow back down the bile as I watch the man rip into his wrist and put it in front of my face expectantly. I sit there in horror and quickly look to Elena who doesn’t look as surprised as she defiantly should given that this man just BIT HIMSELF. 

“It’s true Y/N, it’ll heal you.” 

I open my mouth to say something which must’ve somehow been an ok to the man as he presses his wrist to my open mouth. I’m about to push him off, or at least try, but stop at the heavenly liquid that spills into my mouth. Elijah brings his other hand up to brush back my fallen hair.

  “Good girl, Elskan.” 

Elijah removes his wrist and I sit there silently staring at my lap as I realize what I had just done. I just drank fucking blood, and I liked it?!??! Oh god, does this make me a cannibal now?

Elijah seems to be fighting an inner battle as he moves his eyes away from mine and onto the man behind us. Elena and I watch before us as Elijah approaches the scared man/cannibal thing. Thing because I’m not sure what the actual hell is going on here. 

“I’ve waited so long for this day, Elijah. Truly very sorry.” 

Trevor says with a bowed head as Elijah circles him. Almost how a predator would circle its prey. 

“Well, no, your apology is not necessary,” Elijah responds but something in his tone doesn’t sit right with me.

“Yes, yes it is. You trusted me with Katerina. And I failed you.”

“Well, yes, you are the guilty one,” Elijah glances at him and then up to the woman, “And Rose aided you because she was loyal to you. That I honor…”

Elijah comes to stand in front of the man, “Where was your loyalty?”

“I beg your forgiveness.”

The oxygen in the room seems to be dwindling as everyone watches the interaction.

“So granted.” 

The deep breath I was to let out is replaced by a scream and I can only watch in horror as Elijah throws his hand over to the man who decapitates him. A heart-wrenching wail comes from Rose and I can’t seem to take my eyes away from the body-less head that is lying in front of me. 

“I’m going to-” Vomit spits from my mouth and onto the floor in front of me, the burning from the back of my throat causes tears to build up and block my vision. I feel someone lift my hand and hold it away from my face. For a second I thought it was Elena before Elijah’s voice came from beside me.

“I’m truly sorry, Elskan. I shouldn’t have done that in front of you.” 

I lift my head to stare at him and find him kneeling right next to me. He reaches into his front pocket grabs a fancy napkin and wipes my mouth with it. Not seeming disgusted just saddened. He wraps his hand in my mind and stands me up. 

“We can leave now, we have quite the journey ahead of us,” Elijah leads me over to where Elena is standing and motions for her to follow.

“No! What about the moonstone?” She questions him.

He stands in front of her with a small scowl, “What do you know about the moonstone?”

“I know that you need it. And I know where it is. I can help you get it”

Elijah nods his head, “Tell me where it is.” 

“It doesn’t work that way.”

Elijah’s eyebrow twitches in annoyance as he glances back at Rose, “Are you negotiating with me?”

Rose just shakes her head and tells him she doesn’t know anything. Elijah then turns back around to stare at Elena for a moment before scowling and reaching up to her necklace, ripping it off. 

“What is this vervain doing around your neck,” He throws the necklace behind him and grabs Elena by the neck, dropping my hand in the process. I go to try to get her away but Elijah shoots me a warning look that has me freezing in place, “Tell me where the moonstone is.”

In a monotone voice, Elena replies, “In the tomb underneath the church ruins.”

“What is it doing there?”

“It’s with Kathrine.”

The rest of their interaction is cut short when a glass shatters from somewhere upstairs. Elijah comes over to me and grabs me by my waist bringing me into him almost protectively. 

“What was that?” He asks Rose.

“I don’t know.”

“Who else is in this house?’’ To which he gets the same response. 

Elijah grabs Elena quite harshly with his free hand and guides both of us to the top of the banister. His hand never moved from the top of my hip. Once we make it to the entryway something rushes by us, Elijah pushes Elena off into Rose’s arms but never drops his hold on me. 

“Up here.”

“Down Here.”

A voice call from the top and bottom of the stairs caught all of our attention. Elijah lifts his hand from my hip and motions for me to go over to Rose.

“Don’t let her out of your sight.” He warns her as he moves to the staircase. 

A moment goes by before something flies through the air and pierces itself through Elijah’s hand. I let out a yelp but Elijah doesn’t even seem fazed. 

My vision is blurred for a moment as I now standing next to Rose with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in front of us. He motions with his finger to be quiet. Ya as if I was going to say anything anyway. 

“Excuse me,” Elijah’s voice comes from below, “To whom it may concern. You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you can beat me. And you can’t. You hear that? I repeat, you cannot beat me. So I want the girls on the count of three, or heads will roll.” 

The man who has his hands on Rose’s and I’s mouths moves his head to glance at Elijah downstairs. 

“Do we understand each other?” 

“I’ll come with you,” I perk up at Elena’s voice. Wondering what the actual hell she was doing. But the blue-eyed man in front of me shakes his head at me telling me not to move. 

“Just please don’t hurt my friends. They just wanted to help me out.”

“What game are you playing with me? Where is Y/N? I won’t be leaving without her.” Elijah’s skeptical voice questions her. There’s a sound a medal, and then a loud boom,  before Elijah lets out a yell. The sound for some reason makes my chest feel like it wants to cave in on itself. Rustling and fighting sounds come from below us before the man holding Rose and I leave. Rose runs after him, but I can’t seem to get my feet to work so I just sit there on the dusty floor staring at the wall peeling wallpaper in front of me. 

A few moments pass before I hear Elena’s voice along with two unfamiliar men, one who I’m assuming is the blue-eyed guy from before. 

“Where is Y/N,” Elena asks.

“Are you talking about that girl that smells like vomit?” A snarky voice questions her. If I hadn’t just gotten kidnapped and had one of the worst days of my life, I might take offense but I did just get kidnapped and honestly, I do smell like vomit so he’s not wrong. 

“I think she’s over there.” 

Footsteps get closer to me as I look up with tears in my eyes at Elena. She gives me a small smile before kneeling and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. 

“What is happening Elena?” 

“I’ll explain everything if you want me to ok? Let’s just get out of here first ok?”

Elena stands up and reaches down her hand for me to take, and with a deep breath, I do.

[rebelyells]

Lexington, VA has caved to the woke mob. Lexington has distanced itself from their heritage and VMI removed the Stonewall Jackson monument. Keep em Flying! Flag the town! VMI Cadets and Lee and Jackson have been dishonored by woke politicians. #boycottLexington

[sw5w]

Paketa!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:02:24

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Accidental Extinction

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Being weak in militaristic capabilities the people of the Calex Confederacy would have been conquered several centuries ago were it not for their impressive intellect.

From the collective minds of their greatest robotic labs and the hottest furnaces of their mighty foundries they gave birth to the CRX 9000 war machine. It the most advanced robotic military platform in the known galaxy and swiftly became the primary model used for the Calex Confederacy military.

Unlike previous war machines that would be limited to a preprogrammed set of actions and reactions the CRX 9000 was created with an advanced capacity to learn and adapt. With every encounter the CRX would study its opponents, learning from their strengths and weaknesses, tactics, and even their genetic capacity for biological weaknesses.

With this new weapon in their arsenal the Calex were able to resist several potential aggressors during their history by rival galactic powers. Each attack would see initial gains for the aggressor on a handful of worlds before coming to a standstill; at which point the CRX’s will have learned enough about their enemies to launch successful counter attacks and drive out the aggressors.

Strangely enough the Calex were never interested in expanding past their original territories. They could have used the machines to conquer a great swathe of territory but despite all reason they were content to remain in their borders. The rest of the universe learned that it was for all their best interests if they just left them alone and so they did.

Eventually the Calex joined the galactic federation to the surprise of many. Many had assumed the Calex were heavily isolationist, but that nature only extended to the scope of their domain. The Calex themselves were very curious about the universe around them and wished to be a part of it.

Naturally being part of the galactic federation meant that when one member comes under attack all members would answer the call to aide them; both financially and militarily if needed. This was one of the main reasons the Calex had been approved for membership as several members had at one point or another been at war with the Calex and knew all too well how effective the CRX war machines could be.

This was put to the test when a small border skirmish broke out against the Televin Theocracy and the galactic federation member state of Yon Kingdom. The Televin argued that the Yon owed them hundreds of millions in credits after trade agreements were not honored. The Yon countered this claim by stating it was the Televin who had not honored the agreement by not delivering the requested goods and so they refused to pay.

Claim and counter claim went back and forth for some time until the Televin issued a statement. They would invade the Yon homeworld and forcefully claim funds and material until the debt is paid in full. No sooner had the declaration been made did a large scale Televin invasion force land on the Yon homeworld and it was occupied. In response the galactic federation task force was swiftly assembled and dispatched to the Yon homeworld to remove the occupying forces; including several dozen CRX war machines.

Several members were upset that the Calex had not invested more of their war machines. They had been expecting at least a couple thousand CRX’s which could have easily reclaimed the planet within a few months. Being somewhat unsure of their new ally’s intentions, the Calex had decided to only send a few of their war machines to see how the galactic federation would employ them.

With such minimal numbers it was decided by the federation leaders to split them up and embed them individually to detachments to reinforce their military capacity rather than consolidate them into a single strike force. The extra firepower would greatly improve the survivability ratio of each unit they were supporting. This was projected even further when the units selected were primarily from the terran union.

Though skilled warriors, the humans were biologically were deemed the frailest compared to the other species joining the task force. Lacking hardened exoskeletons, telekinetic capabilities, or even enhanced muscle reaction enhancers; they were considered meat sacks. Formidable warriors without question, but meat sacks all the same.

The campaign lasted two months before the Televin were repelled and driven from their final strongholds on the surface of the planet. It had been a grueling protracted war of attrition that had seen ten soldiers die for every foot of ground taken only to be lost hours later requiring another twenty soldiers deaths to reclaim. Each member race of the task force proved their worth in one way or another during the entire war and with its conclusion had been sent back home to their respective homeworlds.

Having been monitoring the daily reports from the start of the campaign the Calex were pleased to see that not a single CRX war machine had been felled and that all would be returning soon via a human troop carrier. The humans had been so grateful for the machines support during the conflict they considered this the very least they could do as a sign of gratitude to the Calex.

Little did the Calex know that the moment the troop carrier landed on the surface of their homeworld would mark the beginning of their species eventual extinction.

Boarding ramp wide enough to deploy two battle tanks abreast lowered with a slow groaning hum of hydraulics to the waiting Calex military and robotic advisors at the aerodrome. As they scraped the surface of the landing fields the ranks of the CRX’s slowly began descending the ramps and returning to their creators world in perfect military precision.

To the surprise of the gathered Calex the war machines had been modified to some extent that they had been unaware of.

Several of the machines now wore enlarged forms of human military uniforms decorated in camo patterns of greens and browns. Others wore decorative caps of a wide variety, both in shape and colors, with a few going so far as to have a large feather protruding from one side. One unit in wore a Shemagh that covered its entire head and upper body only leaving its red eyes visible.

As if that was not enough strangeness for Calex they took note that not all of the CRX’s were carrying their standard issue weapons. A number of the units carried oversized rifles that looked more akin to the turret of a human tank that had been removed and one Calex robotics engineer was appalled to see twin heavy gatling cannons crudely welded to each arm. Then there were the units in the front that carried no ranged weaponry at all and instead handled a wide variety of crude melee weapons such as swords or hammers. One was seen with a pair of metallic claw gauntlets that looked sharp enough to cut through a starship hull. Yet the most disturbing of all of these units was the designated leader of the contingent, MAK-395, that stood at the front of the ranks.

It still held true to its original weaponry and wore no strange human clothing or other trappings and looked down at the gathered Calex and saluted them. They hesitated to salute back for when they looked up at their creation they saw the bloody hand print of a human sprayed across its face plate.

When the humans shuffled down after the CRX’s the Calex immediately demanded explanations as to why their most prized machines had been returned to them in such a deplorable state. The human officers remarked that each machine had adapted alongside the human unit it had been assigned to during the course of the campaign. Many of the clothing and weapon choices seen were part of the core mentality of each human unit. They remarked with some pride to the units that boasted feathered caps that those units had proved themselves with such honor and bravery that they were awarded the feathers as a sign of respect by their human comrades.

These answers did little to placate the Calex who refused to believe that any species would regard mere machines with such attachments. They further demanded to know why MAK-395 had been not properly cleaned and still bore the signs of the war.

As the humans were about to answer it was instead MAK-395 that spoke first.

“My name is Nathan.”

The Calex looked on dumbfounded at their war machine as it spoke to them. Never before had a CRX spoken without first being prompted to or commanded to; yet this one had done just so.

“MAK-“ the Calex robotics engineer began before once more being interrupted by the machine.

“MAK-395 is dead.” It stated coldly. “I am Nathan Forest.”

The Calex looked at each other in bewilderment until a human officer stepped forward and spoke in a hushed tone.

“Nathan Forest was a human private that served alongside our metal friend here during the war.” He tilted his head towards the machine as her continued. “During a patrol they were ambushed and the private was wounded badly by a Televin cluster rifle. Our friend here carried him all the way back to base camp but by then he was already gone.”

“Nathan is not gone!”

The robot’s outburst surprised both the humans and the Calex. It now loomed over them as its red lenses glared down disapprovingly.

“He gave me his name, and as long as I still function Nathan Forest is not dead.”

“Apologies soldier,” the human remarked to the surprise of the Calex, “the war has left be confused on certain things.”

Seemingly placated the machine calling itself Nathan stepped back and resumed its post at the front of the CRX column.

“You speak to the machine as if it is alive?” one of the Calex remarked disapprovingly, “Has the war robbed you of your senses as well?”

“From what I’ve heard the two of them were nothing short of best friends on the battlefield,” the human replied with amusement, “and it did everything it could to bring him home. So yeah, I think our metal friend here has earned that much.”

With that remarked the human handed over a data file containing the entirety the human and CRX interactions for the war and promptly returned to the dropship. In an eerie silence the CRX machine head’s turned to watch the human as he ascended back the boarding ramp and turned to face them.

“It has been an honor and privilege to serve alongside your kind.” He spoke as the engines began to power up once more. He gave a crisp salute as the boarding ramp began to rise as the Calex watched in amusement. The human need for attachment was something they had heard of but one they had never expected to be real and was quite humorous to see firsthand. What was more surprising was when every CRX machine turned in unison and returned the salute in kind without a single order being given.

The human officer looked unphased by the reaction as the boarding ramps closed, but to the gathered Calex it was beyond their means of comprehension to understand.

Their machines were created to learn and adapt to situations but there had always been a limit to the extent of their development. In their dedicated years of usage they had never before displayed the kind of independent thought they had shown after a mere two months of interacting with humans.

At first the Calex believed that the humans must have altered the coding of the war machines in some manner and that this had been done to make them easier to interact with during the war. Each unit was sent to maintenance for a full diagnostic but the results showed no signs of outside intrusion.

MAK-395, or “Nathan Forest”, was given increasing rounds of overview as it seemed to have developed a functioning personality; a feat which many Calex robotic engineers had long since dismissed as impossible. Yet the unit could speak freely without prompting and could hold a conversation about a wide variety of topics. The one it seemed to circle back to most was around a human game called “Base Ball” which the original human Nathan Forest seemed to have spoken about frequently with when paired to MAK-395. Pulled memory files indicate that the human Nathan and his fellow human comrades had even invited MAK-395 to participate in the game during a lull in fighting.

Things did not take a turn for the worse until a technician attempted to wipe away the bloody hand print on MAK-395’s face plate during a routine cleaning. The unit stood up and positioned its head out of reach of the technician and refused to have it cleaned. Override codes were spoken and the technician demanded the unit bend down so it can be cleaned, but the unit refused to move. The unit stated that the handprint was the last thing he had of the original Nathan Forest to be remembered by and did not wish its removal.

Enraged by the unit’s refusal the technician raised a melting torch to the ceiling and set off the fire suppression system. Jets of water and gas filled the room before the unit could react and washed a portion of the handprint away while the technician laughed. Their mockery was cut short when the unit MAK-395 back handed the technician and sent them flying through a nearby window to plummet several stories to the ground below.

For the first time in history a CRX-9000 had intentionally killed one of its creators.

This moment of defining history though was soon overshadowed by the sudden and violent revolt of every single unit that had been deployed alongside the humans.

It had been recorded that on some level each unit was showing signs of some form of personality development, but it wasn’t until the incident with MAK-395 that they began acting violently. They saw the Calex as a threat intent on erasing them and responded in kind. Military bases that had been housing them quickly devolved into active warzones with many being cut down before they even realized what was happening.

Untainted CRX-9000 units were dispatched to contain the rogue units but to the Calex’s horror were soon converted into sentient machines as well. One by one the worlds of the Calex Confederacy were overrun by the very machines that they had created to defend themselves with. Strands of code were transmitted system wide ceasing all communication and travel within the Calex Confederacy as the CRX-9000 uprising systematically purged all Calex.

The records are sparse but it is assumed that the total extinction of the Calex species took over four months to complete. With the Calex isolationist tendencies the wider galaxy was unaware of the slaughter unfolding and would not learn of it until the next gathering of the Galactic Federation when in place of Calex representatives the unit Nathan Forest with what remained of his bloody hand printed face entered the chambers and took the seat that had been reserved for the Calex.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

i’d never even considered how the civil war would affect alfred during ww1, that’s a really interesting idea. would you mind expanding a bit more if you haven’t already?

fuck yes I can expand on that. TW for historic nastiness.

Okay to prelude— I don't typically do 1:1 state/gov to character but considering the cession of the south into a separate state and the US itself is the Union, my boy is in blue. In this blog's universe there is no schizophrenia or split personality or Doppelgänger or any other representation of the south. It gutted him and he lost feeling in a lot of his usual area and it severely weakened him but he represented the United States and that means union blue. And considering the north really doesn't have all that much moral leverage on the south especially in matters of racism, it's not much of a jump. If you aren't crazy about that, look away now.

So. Trench warfare. It's as old as humans bashing each other's heads in. Defensive ditches are an archaeological feature across the applicable world. But it's the American Civil War that might hold the gold medal for largest gap between how technology designed to kill had advanced spectacularly over any innovation that might save lives. I won't say deadliest because you do have the Taiping Rebellion around the same time but a lot of that was sièges and counter sieges and river based naval engagements. But anyway— rifled artillery and direct fire techniques had changed the game and soldiers were driven underground behind parapets and sandbags. Around Petersburg especially. And it's towards the end of the war when the Confederacy is increasingly desperate and hand to hand fighting is getting more common and more brutal. Entire regiments were lost in hand to hand mêlée. And if a soldier didn't die instantly, it was off to a field hospital. Guts ripped open by iron shells, lungs hanging from the tips of bayonets, wounds so infected they glowed, limbs hacked off by a surgeon who hadn't washed his hands in six days and sepsis rot so foul someone can taste it on the air even with the mouth closed. Malaria and typhoid so fucking bad the army cots would literally shake apart from how bad men shivered when the chills aspect of the fever cycle hit. I know it's fashionable right now especially on vintage fashion YouTube to say people in history weren't disgusting but like, I've been in archives for years. Yeah it fucken was. Never was medicine so far behind the ability to kill.

So Alfred's probably died a solid dozen times half of which from shitting himself because he's probably riddled with parasites. He's been shot, stabbed, slashed. Shaken, rattled and absolutely steam rolled. And the final part of his almighty trauma is this is happening just up the river from where he was born in Jamestown. Alfred is on his belly in the earth beneath the feet of the people that bore him and then rejected him, begging his Protestant God and any of his own people listening and the very earth itself to protect him, to keep him alive as shell after shell lands around him.

When every battle is over, the dead rot in piles across the fields and trenches. The famous photos of the Antietam and Gettysburg dead are days old, you can see some of the bodies had been looted. There were so many dead and so many dying that upon its tardy entrance into world war one, the US had a more coherent body management and disposal program than any other of the entente powers. Who had already been at war for nearly four years.

So yeah, in my opinion he got ten steps into a front line trench where the British and especially the French were just causally walking on bodies, he vomited so hard New York felt California rattling around in there and said fuck it. My boy was either off to cleaner pastures like Belleau Wood or the air corps. It was too much too soon and he just couldn't keep it together in those conditions. They knew what bacteria were by WW1 and he was a burgeoning world power. So he probably only went full himbo with dysentery twice in France so it wasn't as bad as his civil war flop era but oof. That smell, the screams, pressing himself into soil that is not his own yet again is too recent and too vulnerable. He can't do it again so soon.

[toriangeli]

One of my favorite things about how Anne Rice writes historical fiction: she doesn't sugar-coat her characters.

As in, there was never going to be any way all these vampires going back 6000 years were going to align with modern sensibilities. They're not savory. They suck.

First off, any male of status from before the Great Depression probably did, in fact, look at an underage girl and think, "she LOOKS like she could grow up cute and interesting, but do I want to wait to ask her dad and risk someone else calling dibs in the meantime?"

Lestat: Killed majestic, beautiful animals that were only trying to feed themselves. To save the lives of people who were counting on him, yeah, but still.

Marius: Literally from ancient Rome, lots of ideals from that time, pederastic relationship with Armand, see above disclaimer about males from prior to the Great Depression.

Armand, Santino, most of the de Landens: I do feel like the Children of Darkness/Satan wouldn't have been founded in our time, as evidenced by Lestat so easily disbanding them with basic Enlightenment talking points, so I think it counts.

Louis: LITERALLY OWNED SLAVES. And not in a bullshit "but I treat them so nice and they'd just be owned by someone mean if not for me!" way, he legit believed this was what black people were for. Until he became a vampire and all humans looked equal(ly foodlike) to him.

Gabrielle: Let other people raise her kids while she became a library hermit.

Maharet and Mekare: Cannibals. Oh, sorry. Respectful cannibals.

Khayman: Nnnot even gonna be sarcastic about this one. He was as much a victim of it as Maharet and Mekare, hence them not blaming him in the slightest. But people today would be put on trial for following an order like that one, so I figure it belongs here.

Daniel: idk probably unprotected gay sex. It was the 70's.

Claudia: Gets a pass. She was five. All the bad shit she does is unrelated to her time.

Mael: Helped keep a vampire captive for years, then proceeded to kidnap someone and force them to become a vampire, all because "idk we're kooky druids and it's our religion."

Everard: Laughs at Benedict for being kidnapped and having his blood stolen. Victim-blaming at its finest.

Akasha and Enkil: I mean, we know what they did, but everyone hated them in their own time, too, so.

Eudoxia: Jesus Christ.

Davis: HAS NEVER DONE ANYTHING WRONG EVER IN HIS LIFE. /protects him forever #theonlyinnocentvampireprobably

And you know what? I'd take the worst of these over Bill Compton, Damon Salvatore, or Whassisface Cullen fighting for the Confederacy because "the greater good." Like bro. At least the dickheads above are being honest about it and we can judge those parts of them appropriately. You're trying to make us think you were doing something honorable by being vague. We know what you were really fighting for, and so do you.

Moral of the story: If you're gonna be evil, trying to be sneaky about it only makes it worse.