Storming the Hilton Canopy Hotel where ICE nazi killers are sleeping overnight. The people of Minneapolis are rising up. This is how we do it comrades. Make fascists afraid again.
Until Renee Good gets JUSTICE! You get no PEACE!!!
ICE is nothing more than trump's SS. That's why so many of trump's goons (ICE) have SS tattooed on their necks behind the ear. Waffen-SS, is a militarized branch of the Nazi Party's SS, that grew into a significant fighting force, notorious for extreme brutality and ideological fanaticism, while the Volkssturm was a late-war militia of older men.
"Who was it, maybe Raoul Vaneigem, who wrote something about how we are trapped between two worlds, one that we do not accept, and one that does not exist. It’s exactly right. One way I’ve been thinking about it is this: the calendar, as map, has been split down the middle, into two chronologies, two orbits, and they are locked in an endless spinning antagonism, where the dead are what tend to come to life, and the living are, well you get the picture. Obviously, only one of these orbits is visible at any one time and, equally obviously, the opposite is also true. It’s as if there were two parallel time tracks, or maybe not so much parallel as actually superimposed on each other. You’ve got one track, call it antagonistic time, revolutionary time, the time of the dead, whatever, and it’s packed with unfinished events: the Paris Commune, Orgreave, the Mau Mau rebellion. There are any number of examples, counter-earths, clusters of ideas and energies and metaphors that refuse to die, but are alive precisely nowhere. And then there is standard time, normative time, a chain of completed triumphs, a net of monuments, dead labour, capital. The TV schedules, basically. And when a sub-rhythmic jolt, call it anything, misalignment of the planets, radioactive catastrophe, even a particularly brutal piece of legislation, brings about a sudden alignment of revolutionary and normative time, as in the brute emergence of unfinished time into their world, it creates a buckling in its grounding metaphor, wherein that metaphor, to again misuse Hölderlin, becomes a network of forces, places of intersection, places of divergence, moments when everything is up for grabs. Well, that’s the theory." – Sean Bonney in Letters Against the Firmament (two)
— No matter how you deny it, you can't change the fact that we used to love each other to the bone. —
Now that was odd, Simon was never really the type of person who missed his ex after a breakup, but you?
Well, your love was quick and passionate to say the least, you gave him the type of love that he thought he could never find. For once he actually got hope, hope that love still exists, hope in you, specifically.
But as a Lieutenant, he has bigger problems to worry about, problems that he has dedicated himself to, even more important than you. So eventually, you both come to an end with a simple text, not even a face-to-face conversation since he is so far away.
"Let's just be friends, Simon."
"And, don't feel hard to talk or like, friends, you know?"
Liar.
How can he go back to being friends with someone he loves?
How can he just talk to you, when you don't even respond to his messages anymore?
Was that supposed to be good for both of you?
Was he supposed to hold you back, and close?
He doesn't know anymore.
Simon thought he could get over it quickly, just like how he was with everything, it worked every time, but why not this time?
Why did he miss you when he stayed up late doing work?
Why did he keep checking his phone in his free time, hoping for a certain message from a certain someone, just to be silently disappointed every single time?
Why is his name still on your bio? Delete it already.
But did he really want you to delete it anyway?
He deleted every trace of you two, photos, screenshots.
But not your texts, he couldn't bring himself to do it, how odd.
And it becomes a routine, he keeps stalking your social media just to see that you are actually kind of moved on? He keeps sending you a text every single free time he gets, even though he knows you will just read it without a response.
Until today.
"Baby, am I bothering you with my texts?"
Guess you were feeling generous today, or you were simply just sick of him, but you did reply, his heart almost jumped out when the text bubbles appeared.
"I'm not that petty, we have nothing to do with each other anymore, anyway."
Ouch.
"Do we really have no chance again?"
Gosh, type faster please, don't make him feel those weird feelings in his stomach.
"Simon, you want us to be miserable again?"
"I'm doing both of us a favour."
"But it's still miserable, at least for me."
"Even worse without you here."
"Do you really miss me, or just miss the woman from your memories?
The opulent Mikaelson mansion, usually a haven of warmth and laughter, now echoed with a chilling silence. You, y/n Mikaelson, stood frozen in the doorway of the living room, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. The scene before you was a tableau of destruction and raw, untamed emotion.
Your husband, Klaus, the Original Hybrid, stood amidst the wreckage of what was once a perfectly arranged living space. The plush couch you'd painstakingly chosen together now lay in pieces against the far wall, a gaping hole marring the intricate wallpaper. But it wasn't the physical damage that stole your breath; it was the look on Klaus's face.
His jaw was tight, his fists clenched, and his eyes… those beautiful, usually warm brown eyes were now blazing with an unnatural amber glow. The hybrid was surfacing, and with it, a storm of rage and pain that threatened to consume him.
"Why can't you see that I do all of this for us?" Klaus's voice was a low, guttural growl, laced with a desperate plea that tore at your heart.
You flinched, instinctively taking a step back. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the love you held for him. It was a fear you hated, a fear that gnawed at the edges of your soul, but it was there nonetheless.
"Klaus," you whispered, your voice trembling, "please, calm down. You're scaring me."
The words seemed to ignite his fury further. In a swift, predatory movement, he crossed the distance between you, his hands shooting out to grip your wrists. His hold was firm, bordering on painful, and it sent a jolt of panic through you.
He pulled you close, so close that you could feel the heat radiating off his body, smell the familiar scent of his cologne mingled with the wild musk of his hybrid nature. His eyes, still glowing with that terrifying amber light, bored into yours.
"Is that what I am to you, y/n? A monster to be feared?" His voice was a tormented whisper, laced with a pain that mirrored your own.
You struggled to speak, your throat tight with emotion. "No, Klaus, never. I love you. But sometimes… sometimes I see this side of you, this… darkness, and I don't know how to reach you."
His grip tightened momentarily before he seemed to consciously loosen it. The amber in his eyes flickered, replaced by a flicker of the brown you knew and loved. A flicker of the man beneath the monster.
"And that terrifies you, doesn't it?" He said, his voice barely audible above the frantic beat of your heart. "That the man you love is capable of such… savagery."
Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. "I don't want to be afraid of you, Klaus. I hate it. I hate that I can't always control it."
His expression softened, a flicker of tenderness amidst the storm raging within him. He raised a hand, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. His touch, despite the lingering tension in his body, was achingly gentle.
"And I," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "cannot bear the thought of being the source of your fear. You are my wife, my mate, the only woman who has ever truly seen me, accepted me, loved me despite the darkness that resides within. To see that darkness reflected in your eyes… it is a torment I cannot endure."
He released your wrists abruptly, stepping back as if burned. The amber in his eyes receded, leaving behind a swirling mix of guilt, anger, and a profound, heart-wrenching sadness.
"I should go," he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Before I do something I truly regret."
He turned to leave, but before he could take a step, a small, hesitant voice pierced the tense silence.
"Mama?"
Both you and Klaus froze, turning towards the hallway. Standing there, clutching her teddy bear, was Hope, her five-year-old eyes wide with confusion and fear.
Hope's innocent gaze flickered between you and Klaus, taking in the shattered couch, your tear-streaked face, and his haunted expression. She had lost her mother, Hayley, when she was very young, and you had stepped into that role seamlessly, showering her with love and care. She saw you as her mother, her protector, and the sight of you distressed clearly terrified her.
"What happened?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Klaus's face crumpled. The sight of his daughter, the one person he would do anything to protect, witnessing his outburst was a blow he hadn't anticipated.
"Hope, sweetheart," he said, his voice softening, "go back to your room. This is nothing for you to worry about."
But Hope didn't move. She took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on you. "Mama, are you okay?"
You knelt down, opening your arms to her. She rushed into your embrace, burying her face in your neck.
"I'm okay, baby," you murmured, stroking her hair. "Daddy and I just had a little disagreement. Everything is fine now."
You glanced up at Klaus, silently pleading with him to reassure her. He knelt down as well, his gaze filled with remorse.
"Hope," he said gently, "I am so sorry you had to see that. Daddy lost his temper, and it was wrong. I promise, I will never do anything to scare you or your mother again."
Hope looked at him, her brow furrowed. "You were angry," she said, stating the obvious. "Why were you angry at Mama?"
Klaus hesitated, unsure how to explain the complexities of his emotions to a five-year-old. "Sometimes, even when we love each other very much, adults have disagreements," you interjected, trying to simplify the situation. "It doesn't mean we stop loving each other."
Hope seemed to accept this explanation, at least for the moment. She reached out, taking Klaus's hand. "I love you, Daddy," she said, her voice filled with unwavering affection.
Klaus's heart clenched. He squeezed her hand tightly, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "I love you too, Hope. More than anything in the world."
He looked at you, his gaze filled with a desperate plea for forgiveness. "I need to leave," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I need to get myself under control before I cause any more damage."
You nodded, understanding his need to escape. "Go," you said softly. "Take as much time as you need. Just promise me you'll come back."
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "I promise," he said, his voice firm. "I will always come back to you, y/n. You and Hope are my everything."
With one last lingering look, he turned and strode out of the room, leaving you alone with Hope amidst the wreckage of your shattered sanctuary.
The following days were filled with heavy silence. Klaus was gone, and the mansion felt empty without his presence. You tried to maintain a sense of normalcy for Hope, reading her stories, playing games, and taking her to the park. But beneath the surface, you were consumed with worry.
You knew Klaus was battling his demons, struggling to reconcile the monster within the man he wanted to be. But you also knew that he was capable of anything when his emotions spiraled out of control. You feared for his safety, and you feared for your future.
Hope, perceptive beyond her years, sensed your unease. She would often ask about her father, her voice filled with concern. You tried to reassure her, telling her that he was away on business, but you knew she didn't fully believe you.
One evening, as you were tucking her into bed, she looked at you with her big, innocent eyes and said, "Mama, is Daddy ever coming back?"
The question pierced your heart. You took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Of course, he is, sweetheart," you said, forcing a smile. "Daddy loves us very much, and he would never stay away from us for long."
But even as you spoke the words, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had irrevocably changed. The fear that had always lurked in the shadows of your relationship with Klaus had now taken center stage, threatening to consume everything you held dear.
You knew you couldn't let that happen. You loved Klaus with all your heart, and you were determined to fight for your marriage, for your family. You just needed to find a way to bridge the gap that had grown between you, to find a way to reach the man beneath the monster, and to banish the fear that threatened to tear you apart.
Driven by a desperate need to reconnect with Klaus, you decided to seek help from someone who understood him, someone who had witnessed his struggles firsthand: his brother, Elijah.
You found Elijah at the local library, surrounded by stacks of ancient books. He looked up as you approached, his expression softening with concern.
"y/n," he said, his voice gentle. "What brings you here? Is everything alright?"
You hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject. "It's Klaus," you said finally, your voice barely a whisper. "He's gone, and I'm worried about him."
Elijah's expression darkened. "What happened?"
You recounted the events of that night, the shattered couch, Klaus's hybrid eyes, and the fear that had gripped you and Hope. Elijah listened intently, his face etched with concern.
"I understand your fear, y/n," he said when you had finished. "Klaus has always struggled with his demons. But he loves you and Hope deeply. He would never intentionally harm you."
"I know that," you said, tears welling in your eyes. "But I don't know how to reach him anymore. He's so consumed by his anger and his pain that he's pushing us away. I'm afraid that if I don't do something, I'm going to lose him forever."
Elijah sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Klaus needs to learn to control his temper, to accept the love that you and Hope offer him. He needs to understand that his power doesn't define him, that his family is his greatest strength."
"How can I help him see that?" you pleaded.
Elijah paused, considering his words carefully. "Klaus respects strength, y/n. He needs to see that you are not afraid to stand up to him, to challenge him, to hold him accountable for his actions. He needs to know that you will not abandon him, but that you will also not tolerate his destructive behavior."
He reached out, taking your hand. "You are a strong woman, y/n. You have the power to reach Klaus, to help him find his way back to the light. But you must be brave, and you must be unwavering in your love and your commitment."
His words gave you a renewed sense of hope. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were determined to fight for your marriage, for your family. You would find Klaus, and you would help him conquer his demons, even if it meant facing your own fears in the process.
Armed with Elijah's advice, you set out to find Klaus. You tracked him to an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city, a place where he often went to brood and unleash his anger.
As you approached the warehouse, you could hear the sounds of destruction echoing from within. You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves, and pushed open the heavy metal door.
The scene that greeted you was one of utter chaos. Klaus was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by shattered crates and overturned barrels. His hybrid eyes were glowing, and his body was trembling with rage.
"Klaus," you said, your voice firm, "stop this. You're only hurting yourself."
He turned to face you, his expression a mixture of surprise and anger. "y/n? What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here. It's not safe."
"I'm not afraid of you, Klaus," you said, standing your ground. "I'm not afraid of your power, and I'm not afraid of your anger. I'm here because I love you, and I'm not going to let you destroy yourself."
His expression softened slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. "You don't understand, y/n," he said, his voice laced with pain. "This is who I am. This is what I do. I can't change."
That's not true," you said, stepping closer to him. "You can change, Klaus. I know you can. You have so much good inside you, so much love to give. Don't let the darkness consume you."
You reached out, taking his hand. His skin was hot, his muscles tense. He hesitated for a moment, then squeezed your hand tightly.
"I don't know if I can do this, y/n," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm so afraid of hurting you, of hurting Hope. I don't want to be the reason you're afraid."
"You won't," you said, your voice filled with conviction. "We'll face this together. We'll find a way to control your anger, to harness your power for good. I believe in you, Klaus. I know you can do this."
His eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, seeking hope. And in your eyes, he found what he was looking for: unwavering love, unwavering support, and unwavering belief in the man he could be.
The amber in his eyes began to fade, replaced by the familiar warmth of his brown gaze. He took a deep breath, his body slowly relaxing.
"I'll try," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to be the man you deserve, the father Hope needs. I promise you, y/n, I will never let my darkness control me again."
And in that moment, standing in the midst of the wreckage, you knew that you had finally broken through. The fear that had haunted your relationship with Klaus had begun to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of hope, a renewed sense of love, and a renewed commitment to facing whatever challenges lay ahead, together.
Mark 11:25 (NLT) -
But when you are praying, first forgive anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins, too.”
