Full text:

Pairings: OC(Connie)x Paul Lahote, OC(Danny)xLeah Clearwater,OC(Eli)x Seth Clearwater

Warnings: fluff, violence, murder

Summary: The pack will finally meet the people that they were warned about but things will take an unexpected path.

Author’s Note: I wrote the next part and hope yall like it. The story is also available in Wattpad in case yall want to check it out since I update there first and then here.

Wattpad account is: @sweet_little_roses

<Previous

Once stepping into the house, Connie was taken aback at how her mom had decorated it. She had a nack of collecting things or like she liked to call it, hoarding. Some things worked while others cluttered the space. However, she knew Gaby liked to secretly get rid of the stuff their mom kept for years and would say she would eventually use.

The further she walked down the hall, the more she saw pictures decorating the walls. Many of where Gaby and her were younger but now their were new ones of her family's time in La Push. One particular picture caught her attention. It was a picture of her family with a group of boys and girls. She wanted to take a closer look till she felt the feeling of a body hugging her tightly once again.

"Sis!!", said her little brother, Charlie. Charlie was the youngest of the family with him being a pre-teen. Like any young boy, he was obsessed with video games, playing soccer, and hanging out with their dad. Connie and him were what they called oil and water. They didn't mix but stayed together. They fought like any other sibling.

" Aww, you missed me", Connie teased her little brother as she hugged him tighter while moving him side to side. He fought the tight hold by hugging her tighter till he gave up. Their moment was cut off at the sound of barking and jumping. They turned around to see two little dachshunds, Cookie and Momo, running to them or specifically Connie.

Both dogs belonged to Gaby and Henry, but when they moved in with Gaby's parents, they became the families pets. Their Mom wasn't a pet person at first, which many speculated was because she was afraid of the attachment while dad, was an animal lover. After a while of petting them, Connie made her way down and found everyone at the kitchen.

She smiled at the sight of finally being reunited with her family, but she cooed at the sight of her brother in law, Henry, holding the small bundle and first grandchild, Sammy.

" Mi corazón de melón", she cooed as she walked with her arms opened to carry the baby. Sammy giggled at the sight of his aunt, coming to hug him and carry him. Sammy was 7 months and son of Henry and Gaby. He was their miracle baby, due to Gaby having some complications but with hope and faith, he came into the world as a healthy and heavy baby.

The family was once again complete with the past left behind. They laugh, ate and watched a movie till night came. They were so distracted by the reunion that Connie, Eli and Danny forgot to ask of where to put their stuff away. As everyone made their way upstairs, mom took the liberty to show Eli and Danny their rooms while Gabby showed Connie's hers. Connie couldn't believe at the size of the room but what really took her breath away was the size of the window. It gave her the ability to see the backyard or the backwoods which would look scary without lights but in the day it would look beautiful.

She turned back around to see Gabby sitting on her bed while rocking Sammy in her arms. She saw how Gabby looked at Sammy with so much love. "Look how far we have came", Gaby said, cutting the silence. Connie smiled before she sat on the bed as well.

"I'm just happy mom and dad were able to achieve their dream", Connie said as she looked at her sister.

Her sister smiled at her before looking at the side. Connie knew what she was looking at. It was a long scar that decorated the side of her neck and dipped to her shoulder. Connie feeling a bit conscious, pulled up her shirt a bit higher while covering the remaining skin with her palm. It was a reminder of who she was now.

" So what are the plans for tomorrow?", Connie asked as a way to change the subject.

"Well dad and Charlie, are going to go work with Billy, and mom is going to go shopping with Sue."

" Who are they? And what about you?"

"You'll meet them soon, because dad invited them to a little cookout. While, Henry, Sammy, and I are going to the store to buy some stuff for Sammy?". Connie nodded at their plans.

" What about Danny, Eli and you?" Gaby asked as she noticed Sammy fell asleep. Connie awed before whispering how they were going to run in the morning, and explore town. Both sisters continued to talk lowly to avoid Sammy from waking up and before they knew it, it was 11pm and they decided to call it a night.

As the whole house settled to sleep, Connie was the last one to close her eyes till the distinctive sound of wolf howls were heard. It was different from the city since the night was filled with cars and other noises but now it was filled with the sound of nature. Sleep finally came and the noise of the howling became a distant memory.

-

Connie woke up at different times throughout the morning, once when she heard her father and brother leave. Another at the sound of her mother making coffee and the last when she heard her sister and her family leave while the baby fussed a bit. Eventually sleep consumed her once more till the banging of her door woke her.

"Get up!", Eli shouted as he continued to bang on the door. She groaned at the sound and laid back some more, trying to continue sleeping till Eli opened the door and started to shake her.

"Come. On.", Eli shook her.

"Let's just do the run and we can go back to sleep" Eli continued to beg.

Connie turned and opened her eyes to see Eli smiling while Danny peaked at the doorstep. She nodded before kicking them out and changing. Once she was done, she stepped out the front yard and looked out at the woods. Both Eli and Danny were doing the same till Eli closed his eyes. Danny and her looked at one another and then at Eli's concentrated face till a smile broke on his face.

He opened his eyes before looking at both of them excitedly. "Their's a cliff just a couple miles away. Whoever gets their first can decide what we will do later. Deal?"

"Deal", they responded before smirks grew in their faces and they put their own earphones on. When they all settled, they gave a nod before they began to run into the woods. All three went in different directions and the sound of running filled different areas of the woods until the crunch of leaves disappeared. Black smoke began to fill their path as one by one disappeared and appeared further from where they were. They still took moments to run before vanishing once again.

They appeared on the strong branches of trees. Paths of flowers, and on tall rocks. Eventually, Danny was the first to reach the cliff, then Eli, and finally Connie. They all felt breathless at how much they traveled but smiled at the sight of the ocean waves. The sky was gloomy but the scenery made up for it. Sitting down at the edge, both Eli and Danny sat on each side of her.

Danny and Eli gave each other a look before looking at her. "I know you keep staring at each other. Just ask what I think you are going to ask”

Danny broke the silence before asking, "So... how are we going to execute these "orders" while living here?"

With a quick sigh, she responded , " Well by what he said, it's going to be a back and forth trip sometimes, with us going to Seattle and meeting with some of the clients, and then quick orders will be executed when they contact us."

"So... your parents still have no clue of what happened in the past and where the money is actually coming from?", Eli asked as he threw the rock into the ocean.

"No, but if they ask... just say it's a good paying job."Connie said as she gave Eli a pointed look and before she gave the same look to Danny she saw him lost in thought.

"Come back to us Danny" she waved her hand in front of his face. " What's got you thinking so deeply?"

He blinked before saying "I don't know. It's just when we crossed into this territory, it feels off. Like their's more to this town besides its residents."

"I know what you mean", Eli responded. Connie didn't want to say anything thinking she was overthinking it but just yesterday she felt being watched in the woods.

"Lets stay on high alert and if anything, kill it", Connie said before she continued, "For now let's go back home, shower, and explore this place".

All of them got up while wiping their hands of dirt. Eli ran first before screaming "Race yall!". The forest was once again filled with laughter and small gusts of air as they disappeared and appeared in different areas. Once they appeared a few feet from the house, they walked in to an empty house. All three went to shower before they began their journey in town.

This time Danny drove, while Eli sat in the passenger seat and Connie sat in the back. She saw once again how the streets were filled with trees but once in a while they saw people of the reservation. Adults working and talking amongst each other and children laughing while playing games. Finally, they saw the stores and restaurants. Eli made note of where every fast food place was while Danny memorized each road and landmark around them. They decided to stop at a Sonic. Even though it was cold outside, they enjoyed a blue and red slush. It brought the memories to the beginning of their journey. One that was built of blood and destruction.

As they drove back, they were surprised at seeing 2 trucks, one that seemed to have Charlie, Billy, her father and brother. While the other truck was filled with a couple boys. Danny was the first one to get out the car to help their dad with the heavy stuff while Eli got out to interact with their little brother.

As Danny and Eli walked towards their family, they got the same feeling of being watched but instead of it coming from the woods, it came from the guys in the other truck. Eli wanted to turn around and look at them but was stoped as Danny walked by him and whispered to keep on walking.

Sam and the guys couldn't help but feel like there was something different of the 2 boys walking towards Alan and little Charlie. They were overprotective of the family as if they were their own. All became tense as seeing the youngest one stop until the tall one passed by him. Their worries were brushed off at seeing Charlie and Alan acknowledge them as they helped them with their things. All of their train of thoughts were abruptly stoped at hearing the slam of the car they arrived at. They were surprised at seeing a girl that resembled Gaby, walked past car. They were even more surprised as Charlie screamed "Sis!". This was the infamous middle child of Alan and Lisa which the family never stoped talking about.

- - - -

Charlie frowned at the sight of his sister having a drink while it didn't seem they bought him anything. Connie noticed the look before giving her drink to him and telling him to finish it. While the siblings interacted, they were still watched by the boys on the truck. Sam watched them intently wondering who were the other two guys besides them. He especially was not getting a good feeling of the tallest one who seemed to analyze him as well. On the passenger side, Jared looked at them as he ate his burger, seeing if they were truly a threat. Seth was at the back asleep since he was tired of patrol while Quil kept on poking him. Finally, Embry was the last one, he kept looking at the girl as he admired her dimpled smile. They were alerted at seeing her turn their direction as if to walk towards them but was stoped as Billy crossed her path.

He seemed to be telling her something. By what they heard, he mentioned how they had to go to " work" and will see them later at the cookout. The tall one seemed to tense up more before the youngest one moved. Billy gave Sam the signal, that it was time to leave and as they drove off the property, Sam could see from the rear view mirror on how the girl was looking at them driving away while a small smirk played on her lips.

When Sam and the guys made it back to Billy's house, they were ready to shift and go on a small patrol but were stopped at the pointed look Billy gave them.

"What did you think boys? Any weird feelings?"

Sam quickly responded. " They don't seem to be a threat from what Jacob told us. Who are the two guys? I only thought Alan and Lisa had 2 daughters and 1 boy?"

Billy looked a bit thoughtful before smiling. "Brothers they say. By what Sue had heard Lisa say, theirs no blood relation but something happened and the family decided to take them in."

"Why did you ask us to look at them Billy?", Quil asked.

"Because something about them feels off. You felt it didn't you? The feeling of another challenging you?" He responded back.

"Yes but they haven't shown any signs of abnormality. They have normal scent of human and the family hasn't shown any weird behaviors since they moved here.", Sam responded.

Billy nodded before dismissing the boys. As they were leaving, Billy asked a final question. "Where's Leah?"

- - -

Connie, Danny, and Eli were once again found in town. They were planning to lounge the rest of the day till their mother mentioned how she forgot some extra snacks for the boys that were coming over. From what Connie was told, it was the same guys in the car. They seemed tense, almost like they were threatened by their presence. Connie and Eli walked the isles back and forth till they made sure that everything on the list was checked off. As they looked at the many items in the cart, it felt like they were feeding animals and not people.

"I think we have everything", Eli said as he checked the  list for the last time.

"Great...where's Danny?"

Eli shrugged him shoulder as he checked the end of the isles to see if he got any view of their tall brother. When he turned to the right he spotted him looking around the corner to the check out section.

"Found him!"

Connie nodded as she made her way towards Danny with the cart. " You disappeared for a bit. You think you.."

She cut herself off at seeing Danny still looking away from them. Almost like he was mesmerized. Eli noticed it as well and followed the direction he was looking at. A small smirk played on his lips while looking back and forth at the girl and at Danny.

While both Eli and Connie secretly looked with Danny. Danny was lost at the sight of the girl. He had never seen someone look so beautiful and breathtaking. He couldn't help but pay attention at every detail of her. How she had sharp eyes and cheekbones. How her skin was a beautiful warm tone and how her hair looked smooth and silky. He couldn't help only see her side profile and not at her directly.

His thoughts were cut off at the feeling of being nudged. He turned to see Eli's teasing expression and he couldn't help but look down. Danny didn't want them to see him look flushed from only looking at a girl. For gods sake he wasn't 13. He looked up once again in time to see the girl leaving. The feeling of wanting to chase after her filled him and he was about to until the sound of a familiar ringing filled their space.

Eli had stoped his teasing, and Danny's emotions were once again neutral. Connie was the one to answer the phone. All of them knew what was going to happen. They were given their first job. Even though Connie was the one to pick up the call, they could read each other's thoughts and get every detail they needed.

Three Males. 45, 42, and 47. Murderers . Lived in the rich area of Seattle. Killed kids for fun. Wanted dead before 10pm today.

Danny checked his watch. Although their task didn't seem complicated. It came close to when their family was expecting them. Connie seemed to be thinking the same thing as she looked at him.

" Yes sir. We'll get it done.", she said before hanging up.

" Let's go", Connie said simply. The groceries in their cart were long forgotten as they walked out the store. Although their pace was normal, the thirst for death overpowered them. They left the car in the parking lot before they made their way into the woods. Each one vanished from thin air till they appeared once again in different rooms of a luxurious apartment. They could hear the laughter of the 2 men in the living room discussing their latest kills. Both men were unaware of the looming presence of figures in the same room with them.

Connie loomed in a particular room. Although all three men committed the same crime, they still had a leader. As Connie looked at every object of the room, a sharp knife on the nightstand grabbed her attention. She walked silently towards it before touching it. Screams after scream filled her head. All voices of the victims to the weapon and hands of the person. She let go before hearing the smashing of something. She heard the gurgle of blood as they screamed in agony. Their blood was becoming hotter and unbearable. Eli.

Then another scream was heard as sound of electricity and static filled the room. What followed was the fast swishing of water and begging. Danny. Both men were being tortured and played with. Connie didn't mind as she knew there was still some restlessness in Danny and Eli. Although they weren't the ones to finish the job, she knew they needed an outlet. The sound of a frantic shake of the entrance door was heard. Their special guest was here. She could hear as the other 2 men tried to scream for help before the torture continued.

She grabbed the knife on the nightstand before she used the end of it to smash a near by mirror. The pieces fell on the floor as the jiggling of the handle turned to banging against the door. She waited till the last blow. The man entered, shocked at first before looking angry at the sight. Before he could get a word in, fast swooshes were heard and blood began to pour out his mouth. He dropped to his knees before reaching to touch his stomach. Sharp points of something was sticking to his body. He looked up in time to see a presence walking towards him. He wanted to scream and run in fear before a dark smile crossed its lips.

Screams filled the place and then silence.

- - -

Back at the Salazar residence, a small bonfire illuminated the place as different people surrounded them. The adults were talking amongst one another. Billy, Old Quil, and Alan surrounded the grill as they talked about fishing. Sue, Emily, Lisa, and Gaby were setting the tables with plates and food. Quil, Charlie, Seth, and Jared played soccer. And finally, Sam and Embry sat by the fire as they talked. Embry was the first to sense the presence of Leah and Paul approaching them. They had come back from their night patrol and while Paul looked a bit peeved which could be from an argument amongst him and Leah, Leah seemed more annoyed at the fact of being there. Don't get her wrong, she liked hanging out with the Garcia family, but she couldn't stand being among the pack especially Sam and Emily.

She didn't want to seem rude, so she decided to come and greeted everyone before sitting down by the bonfire as well. 10 minutes have passed until Leah noticed Lisa whispering into Gaby's ear with a worried look. She looked back at the guys seeing if they knew something until she saw Sam's worried look.

"What's going on?", she asked before she saw Embry look at the fire.

"Mrs. Salazar is becoming worried as her other children haven't came from their errands."

Leah was shocked at hearing the news. "Other children? Who?"

As she asked the questions, she could see from the corner of her eye as Paul sat up straight at hearing the new news.

" Their's the middle child Connie and two other guys", Quil said as he approached the group.

Sam nodded before continuing, " Billy wanted us to check on them since he had this weird feeling about them."

"Weird feeling", Paul said like it was a crazy thing.

Their conversation was cut as they saw Gaby get up to talk to her husband Henry. They could hear her frantic tone and how they should drive to town to look for them. Their worries were cut off at the sound of a car quickly pulling up.

They could see how Lisa gave a sigh of relief before shouting in Spanish.

"¿Y en donde chingados han estado!?"

"Sorry!We got side tracked," one of them shouted.

"Ahorita les ayudamos. Solamente nos vamos a ir a cambiar.", Leah heard as she saw their figures enter quickly into the house.

The group saw how all 3 of the family members ran inside with bags of the grocery store. Lisa was still worried of their whereabouts till Sue reassured her that they were children and new to the place, so it was easy to be curious.

Leah saw how the family looked more relaxed at seeing the rest of their children at home. She now understood the weird feeling of but instead of feeling challenged, she felt at peace . Her attention was pulled away at the feeling of Seth bumping his arm with hers. Her little brother, forced to grow up very young but she liked that he still had a positive attitude. Leah felt that besides her mom and Seth, she was truly alone. The pack disliked her because she was rude and mean but in reality she was heart broken. They made her feel like she was the one exaggerating.

"Seth?", Leah asked as she saw him looking at his plate of food. He looked up before saying "Yeah"

"Did you felt the same feeling as the other guys. Like challenged?"

Seth thought about for a second. "I'm not sure Lee. I was asleep when they first saw them but it was the best sleep I ever had. Right now I don't even get the same feeling"

Leah nodded before she turned at the sound of a door opening. Seth was bit preoccupied biting his burger while she turned around to see one of the boys coming out. She saw he smiled as he brought her mom and Mrs. Salazar some extra food they had bought. She saw how he introduced himself to his mother and the elders. Eli, she heard him say his name. As he made his way towards them, she heard Seth get up.

She turned around to see him wipe himself off the crumbs before giving his signature smile. "Let me welcome him, as I know the guys are going to be a bit tense with him". Leah saw how Seth smiled at her as he walked towards the guy. A snort left her lips as she saw him try to act all cool but she her demeanor changed she saw him stop.

Leah stood up, worried something happened to Seth and she could feel how the rest of the pack stoped doing what they were doing as well. With her super sense of hearing, she heard how his heart rate had sped up.

"Hi, I'm Eli", the guy said as he smiled and extend his hand.

Seth was frozen as he locked eyes with the person in front of him. The world seemed to vanish behind him and all he could do was concentrate on the guy in front of him. He could see his lips move as he said his name. Eli. What a unique name. His breath became shallow as he saw small flashes pass through his eyes. Different memories of him with Eli as they held hands and cuddled near the beach.

He felt himself slip backwards before the feeling of a hand stoped him. Seth looked up to see Eli hold him steady while asking if he was okay. He was confused with his feelings but one thing was for sure. He had imprinted.

Seth couldn't look away from the eyes of his imprint. It felt like a magnet that brought them together. Everything stoped as he realized where he was again.

"Seth, are you okay?" He heard Leah say as she approached them. He turned around to nod at her and once he looked at her, the whole pack realized what had happened. Seth had found his imprint.

"Is everything okay?", they heard a new voice say.

Leah looked behind Seth and Eli to notice the new person and assure everything was fine.Leah felt her breath hitch as he finally looked at the person in front of her. The whole pack tensed up once again as they saw what was happening again. A new bond was being formed.

The world works in mysterious ways. For Leah she thought she was destined to be alone. She was the freak. The outcast. The murderer. The last choice.

But everything changed as she locked eyes with him.

—————————————————————————

Translation:

“Mi corazón de melón”- my melon heart

“¿Y en dónde chingados han estado?”- Where the hell have y’all been?

At the American university where I teach, one of my assigned tasks is to advise undergraduates—mostly freshmen and sophomores. This essay describes a conversation I had in 2017 with one of those advisees. I will call him Daniel.

Daniel was a sophomore at the time. He had been an advisee of mine for a year already, and I’d come to understand that he was a prodigy. I’d also formed a hypothesis, based on a certain bluntness and lack of social tact he exhibited, that Daniel might be on the autism/Asperger’s spectrum. He seemed weak on interpersonal skills and narrowly, even obsessively, focused on math and science. During his first year of university studies, Daniel had taken a number of upper-level math and physics courses that none of my other advisees had taken, and had earned flat As in almost all of them. His GPA probably would have been a perfect 4.0 if the university had allowed him to take only math and science courses. As it was, it was a 3.85.

At the end of his freshman year, Daniel applied for admission to a competitive honors program that our university runs, but he was rejected. He came to my office to discuss this—or, rather, to complain about it. I soon realized that he was not just disappointed; he was angry. Daniel believed he’d been treated unfairly. He believed he was the victim of reverse racism.

I told Daniel that I understood why he was upset, but I reminded him that the program he’d applied to is highly competitive. The admissions committee presumably received many strong applications. There is always some subjectivity in admissions decisions, I noted, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Subjectivity isn’t the same as unfairness.

Daniel said he wouldn’t be upset if he believed that the applicants who’d been admitted to the program were as strong as him, or stronger. But he said he had reason to believe they were not.

I asked him what he meant by that. He then pulled a laptop out of his backpack and opened up a spreadsheet.

Daniel proceeded to explain that he and a friend had both applied to the same honors program and had both been rejected. Afterwards, they wondered who had been accepted. They scrutinized the social-media accounts of fellow students and found several dozen applicants who’d posted about being accepted. A lot of them, they noticed, were either African American or Hispanic. Daniel and his friend then asked around and identified several dozen students who had been rejected, many of whom were Caucasian or Asian. This made Daniel and his friend suspicious. They decided to create a spreadsheet—the one Daniel was showing me—to organize the data they’d collected; and then they decided to gather more.

Daniel explained that he and his friend wanted to find a measure of academic achievement that they could track statistically. A student’s GPA is not public information, but the Dean’s List is; so they were able to use that as a discrete variable—Dean’s List, yes or no—as a rough proxy for achievement. Daniel explained to me that it would have been better to use a continuous variable (like GPA), but he and his friend had to work with what they had.

Daniel explained that he and his friend had performed various kinds of statistical analysis on the data, and had concluded that admission to the honors program was closely related to Dean’s List status within certain groups. However, there were large differences in acceptance rates across those groups. Overall, he told me, the factor that explained the most variance in admissions outcomes was (as he’d suspected) the race or ethnicity of the applicant. The patterns were quite stark. African Americans who weren’t on the Dean’s List had a better overall chance of being admitted to the honors program than whites or Asians who were on the Dean’s List.

At this point, I got up and closed the door to my office.

Daniel went on talking. He told me he was thinking of filing a protest with the admissions committee and challenging them with the data he’d gathered. He was also thinking about sending his data to the university newspaper as a way of exposing the unfairness of the committee’s decisions.

As I listened, I began to think about what I might tell Daniel once he stopped talking.

Should I tell him what I thought—that he might well be right about why he was not admitted to the honors program?

Should I tell him that I had heard some talk among the faculty that seemed to confirm his suspicions? A few months earlier, I’d heard a dean saying that the honors program was too “traditional” in its make-up. What the university needed to do, this dean said, was “make the program look more like America as a whole.” Having been in academia for several years, I had a pretty good idea what that might mean.

Should I try to make the case for affirmative action, explaining that the policies are well-intentioned and designed to make up for real injustices, including slavery, segregation, and racism?

Should I tell Daniel that sometimes in life one just has to accept this kind of unfortunate outcome as part of a larger process of social transformation?

Should I introduce him to the concept of “taking one for the team”?

Should I mention any of my own experiences with affirmative action?

Should I tell him about the time when I applied for an internal position at our university, only to learn that it was actually a “targeted” search? I came to understand that the faculty members doing the hiring were determined to hire a candidate from an under-represented minority. This meant that I, as a white male, had almost no chance of being selected.

Should I tell Daniel about the time when I interviewed with a small college, and the woman I was interviewing with came right out and told me that she and her colleagues were really hoping to hire an African-American candidate—but, unfortunately, there were not all that many African-American candidates in the applicant pool, so she wasn’t convinced that her school would be able to achieve this goal?

Should I tell him about what happened afterwards, when I spoke to some other graduate students about this interview? One of the graduate students said that what the interviewer had done was wrong: she shouldn’t have said what she did.

Wait a minute, I said. What is it that upsets you about this whole thing? Are you upset that the committee members are so focused on the race of the applicants? Or are you upset that this woman was honest enough to tell me the truth? (That turned out to be an awkward conversation.)

Should I tell Daniel about the colleague I’d spoken with just a few weeks earlier, who’d told me, with much frustration and a touch of anger in his voice, that he was getting out of academia because he’d concluded that it is now virtually impossible for a white male to get a tenure-track position in his field? This young man had finished his PhD and published a book. He had applied for scores of tenure-track jobs, but had finally concluded he was not likely to get one. “Picking me,” he explained, “won’t do anyone any good. It won’t help the institution show that it is combatting racism, and it won’t allow any of the members of the hiring committee to assuage their white liberal guilt.” Shortly thereafter, this colleague took a non-academic job as a computer programmer.

Should I tell Daniel that, over the years, I had grown more and more frustrated with the way in which the academics I work among approach hiring? I’d seen plenty of searches in which members of the hiring committee went out of their way to try to hire persons of color, or members of under-represented minority groups, but nobody would ever admit publicly that this is what was going on. Nor did anyone want to admit that their efforts to boost minority candidates made job-seeking more difficult for members of other, non-preferred groups. Over and over, we were encouraged to celebrate the hiring of a minority candidate, but nobody ever said anything about the persons who were passed over as a result. Everybody seemed to look at these hiring decisions with one eye open and one eye strategically closed. To me, this seemed dishonest.

In the end, I didn’t tell Daniel about any of my own experiences.

I told him that I thought he might be right about why he hadn’t been accepted into the program. It looked to me like the push for diversity might have been the cause, or at least a key factor, in regard to the decision—though it was impossible to be certain. I then briefly (and perhaps half-heartedly) outlined the usual justification for affirmative-action programs.

But what I emphasized most was that I thought it would be unwise for Daniel to launch a campaign against the admissions committee, even if his data was as strong as he seemed to think it was. I told him that a campaign of the sort he was considering would almost certainly fail. He might get some catharsis out of it in the short run, but it would probably do no good in the long run. The committee was unlikely to revisit its decisions or change its procedures going forward. Support for affirmative action is almost universal among academics. Very few are even willing to express hesitations or second thoughts on this issue, lest they be deemed racists. The people who make these decisions feel good about the people who benefit from affirmative action, and they avert their gaze, as much as possible, from the people who are harmed by it. They might be embarrassed by Daniel and his friend’s data, but they would probably not abandon their approach.

I warned Daniel that I thought his plan might end up doing him a lot of harm. If he chose to make his exposé public, the most likely outcome would be that some student or faculty member would accuse him of being a racist. Publishing his data would probably end up hurting him rather than helping him.

When Daniel heard me use the word “racist,” even in this conjectural, non-accusatory way, he responded angrily. He told me that he was not a racist. He had voted for Democrats in the 2016 election and hated Donald Trump. And as it happens, I had reason to believe this was true. The morning after that election, Daniel had come to visit me in my office, deeply troubled by what a Trump presidency might mean for scientific research and funding.

Daniel told me that he believed affirmative-action policies were justified for college admissions, but he did not think they should be used to filter out qualified applicants to honors programs and graduate programs.

He then spoke for several minutes about his own ethnic background. He reminded me that he was Jewish, and told me that both of his parents had put up with a lot of antisemitic discrimination in their universities and workplaces. Back then, they were regarded as “non-white” and were discriminated against as a result; now (ironically) he was considered “white” and was being discriminated against on that basis.

I listened with real sympathy. The situation seemed unfair to me, too. To be honest, I’ve never been quite clear on how we’re supposed to get over centuries of judging people by their skin color or ethnicity by paying more and more attention to skin color and ethnicity.

In the past few years, in fact, I’ve increasingly had the sense that affirmative action may be backfiring. Policies meant to correct historical iniquities seem to be stoking racial resentment. Like Daniel, I dislike Trump intensely. I don’t have much in common with his followers, and I certainly don’t think of myself as one of them. But I do, increasingly, understand some of the grievances that motivate them. I wish I didn’t, but I do.

In the end, as I’ve mentioned, I didn’t tell Daniel about any of my personal experiences or private thoughts. I assured myself that doing so might be counterproductive: after all, my goal was to calm Daniel down, not rile him up.

I told Daniel that he could still succeed at our university, and get accepted by a top graduate school, even if he never made it into the honors program—as long as he just kept on taking challenging math and science classes and posting good grades. That would carry the day. He would move ahead, while the unqualified would fall by the wayside, unable to do the heavy intellectual lifting that advanced courses required.

Daniel must not have been entirely convinced by my arguments, because he proceeded to tell me about a “plan” he had come up with to ensure he would be accepted by a good graduate school. He told me that two of his four grandparents were descended from Sephardic Jews who’d fled Spain in the 1500s. This, he said, made him “technically, part Hispanic”—and thus eligible for preferential admission to graduate-school programs.

I tried to discourage Daniel from putting this plan into action. I told him I thought it was deceptive and dishonest. He might be accepted by a university, but eventually the faculty members would learn that he was not the sort of Hispanic they’d intended to admit. As with his idea of publishing his data, I thought this idea would probably end up hurting him rather than helping.

Daniel eventually calmed down and left my office. He went on with his studies and did not publish his numbers.

In some ways, I think I gave Daniel good advice. Publishing the data he collected would probably not have helped him in the long run. Neither would presenting himself as Hispanic for the sake of graduate admissions. Those actions would probably have led to some unpleasant consequences.

On the other hand, maybe it would have done some good to let the world know just how far the admissions committee was willing to go to admit under-represented minorities and make that honors program “look more like America as a whole.” By the same token, maybe there is something cowardly about not challenging current practices because it’s not in one’s own self-interest to make trouble. Maybe the world would be a better place if some people did challenge these preferential policies.

By: Quillette

Published: Aug 14, 2022

Thirty-three years ago, Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, issued a religious decree suborning the murder of author Salman Rushdie for writing The Satanic Verses, a work of magical realism partly inspired by the life of the Prophet Muhammad. A multi-million dollar bounty was offered by the 15 Khordad Foundation, a revolutionary organization supervised by the Supreme Leader, to whoever carried out the sentence of death.

When attempts to appease the regime with an apology were spurned, Rushdie retreated into hiding and was forced to spend the second half of his adult life under threat of assassination. As part of an attempt to restore diplomatic relations with Britain in 1998, the Iranian government of Mohammad Khatami indicated that it would no longer support Rushdie’s murder. Three years later, Khatami declared the matter “closed.”

Iran’s religious leaders, however, are a good deal less interested in the requirements of international diplomacy, and have been remarkably forthright in saying so to anyone who cared to listen. Khomeini’s successor, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, has repeatedly stated that the fatwa will not—indeed, cannot—be lifted, even if Rushdie “repents and becomes the most pious Muslim on Earth.” Just three years ago, the Supreme Leader’s Twitter account was briefly locked after it posted the following tweet:

Although important details are yet to emerge, pronouncements of this type almost certainly help explain why a 24-year-old man named Hadi Matar attacked Rushdie at a literary festival in Chautauqua, NY, on Friday, August 12th. Matar rushed the stage upon which Rushdie was seated, and stabbed the writer repeatedly in the neck and abdomen until the attacker was physically restrained by attendees. A grim irony: Rushdie was reportedly waiting to deliver a lecture in which he would describe the United States as a safe haven for exiled writers and artists.

Rushdie’s attacker has been taken into custody and charged with attempted murder, but his victim sustained serious injuries during the frenzied assault. Later that same evening, Rushdie’s agent, Andrew Wylie, delivered the distressing news that “Salman will likely lose one eye; the nerves in his arm were severed; and his liver was stabbed and damaged.”

The Satanic Verses was published in 1988. The following year, it was banned in India, and copies were burned during street protests in Bradford, UK. An American Cultural Centre in Islamabad was attacked after the book’s publication in the United States. Khomeini’s fatwa was broadcast on Iranian radio on February 14th, 1989:

We are from Allah and to Allah we shall return. I am informing all brave Muslims of the world that the author of The Satanic Verses, a text written, edited, and published against Islam, the Prophet of Islam, and the Qur'an, along with all the editors and publishers aware of its contents, are condemned to death. I call on all valiant Muslims wherever they may be in the world to kill them without delay, so that no one will dare insult the sacred beliefs of Muslims henceforth. And whoever is killed in this cause will be a martyr, Allah willing. Meanwhile, if someone has access to the author of the book but is incapable of carrying out the execution, he should inform the people so that [Rushdie] is punished for his actions.

A wave of bloodshed ensued. Rushdie’s Japanese translator was murdered, his Italian translator was stabbed, and 37 people perished in a fire targeting the book’s Turkish translator. While the violence and threat level appeared to abate with the passage of time, allowing Rushdie to emerge from hiding and re-engage with public life, his growing sense of security proved to be illusory. Indeed, the intervening years taught the most alarming lesson of all—that no-one marked for death can ever afford to lower their guard or return to what Rushdie called “a normal life.”

Rushdie is not the only person Iran has sought to terrorize. And the murderous fanaticism of its leaders remains in evidence, even as it seeks to renegotiate an agreement with the West regarding its nuclear program. American law enforcement officials have recently uncovered assassination plots by operatives associated with the Iranian regime against Donald Trump’s former National Security Advisor, John Bolton, dissident Iranian journalist Masih Alinejad, and Iranian-American poet (and Quillette contributor) Roya Hakakian. Writing in The New York Review of Books a year ago, Hakakian relayed the story of her 13-year-old child opening the door to FBI agents, who then informed Hakakian that Iranian operatives were concocting a plan to kill her.

In a timely essay for Quillette, published in May, Paul Berman observed:

Roya Hakakian and Masih Alinejad happen to be friends, as Hakakian noted in the New York Review, and the combined threats against them suggest a broader policy of violence and intimidation on the part of the Islamic Republic and its operatives in the United States. This is a policy aimed not just at a couple of inconveniently articulate emigrés, but at the larger circles of the Iranian emigration in America and everywhere else, whose members are bound to pause an additional thoughtful moment before piping up in public about life and oppression back home in far-away Iran. The policy is a display of power. It terrorizes. It succeeds at doing this even if any given plot is foiled, or is suspended, or is merely intimated.

We do not yet know the nature of the relationship—if any—between the Iranian government and Rushdie’s attacker. Early news reports indicate that, “Matar has made social-media posts in support of Iran and its Revolutionary Guard, and in support of Shi’a [Islamist] extremism more broadly,” which could point to Iranian inspiration rather than direction. Either way, the attempt on Rushdie’s life and the sheer ferocity of the attack illustrate the dedication with which fanatics pursue the objects of their hatred, even those who produce works of fiction.

Rushdie understands as well as anyone that this threat is by no means unique to the Islamic Republic of Iran. It issues from adherents of all kinds of radical Islamic movements. In 2005, during the controversy that followed the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten’s publication of 12 editorial cartoons depicting the Prophet Muhammad, Rushdie was one of 12 signatories to a defiant manifesto titled “Together Against a New Totalitarianism,” the full text of which appears below:

Having overcome fascism, Nazism, and Stalinism, the world now faces a new global totalitarian threat: Islamism. We writers, journalists, and intellectuals, call for resistance to religious totalitarianism and for the promotion of freedom, equal opportunity, and secular values for all. Recent events, prompted by the publication of drawings of Muhammad in European newspapers, have revealed the necessity of the struggle for these universal values. This struggle will not be won by arms, but in the ideological arena. It is not a clash of civilizations or an antagonism between West and East that we are witnessing, but a global struggle between democrats and theocrats. Like all totalitarian ideologies, Islamism is nurtured by fear and frustration. Preachers of hatred play on these feelings to build the forces with which they can impose a world where liberty is crushed and inequality reigns. But we say this, loud and clear: nothing, not even despair, justifies choosing obscurantism, totalitarianism, and hatred. Islamism is a reactionary ideology that kills equality, freedom, and secularism wherever it is present. Its victory can only lead to a world of injustice and domination: men over women, fundamentalists over others. To counter this, we must ensure access to universal rights for the oppressed or those discriminated against. We reject the “cultural relativism” which implies an acceptance that men and women of Muslim culture are deprived of the right to equality, freedom, and secularism in the name of respect for certain cultures and traditions. We refuse to renounce our critical spirit out of fear of being accused of “Islamophobia,” a wretched concept that confuses criticism of Islam as a religion and stigmatization of those who believe in it. We defend the universality of freedom of expression, so that a critical spirit can be exercised in every continent, with regard to each and every abuse and dogma. We appeal to democrats and independent spirits in every country that our century may be one of enlightenment and not obscurantism. Signed by: Ayaan Hirsi Ali, Chahla Chafiq, Caroline Fourest, Bernard-Henri Lévy, Irshad Manji, Mehdi Mozaffari, Maryam Namazie, Taslima Nasreen, Salman Rushdie, Antoine Sfeir, Philippe Val, Ibn Warraq.

Salman Rushdie has risked everything for his art. Like Jyllands-Posten editor Flemming Rose, the slain cartoonists and satirists at Charlie Hebdo, and numerous other courageous writers, thinkers, artists, and intellectuals hunted across the globe for violating ancient taboos against blasphemy, he has stood up for free thought and expression, even as others have disgraced themselves by offering excuses on behalf of those who perpetrate lethal violence in the name of religion.

Rushdie’s steady courage and reliable willingness to defend individual liberty have ensured his status as one of the great moral heroes of our time. “A poet’s work,” remarks one of his characters in The Satanic Verses, “is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start arguments, shape the world and stop it from going to sleep.” Rushdie has done all those things. And it is a tragedy that his dedication to these noble pursuits has cost him so much.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: None?

A few days had passed and already your were getting the hang of this whole ‘shifting’ thing. Paul and Leah had been teaching you when they weren’t forced to patrol. It was a constant symphony of “Imagine yourself turning.” or “Imagine your bones transforming into your wolf.’ At first it was the most painful thing you’d experienced in your life but slowly over the few days it eased, it was less painful when Paul was around.

Alice Cullen had been in touch with the wolves through Jake, the red haired bitch and her followers would arrive any day now. Today was the first day of proper training. Emily and Sam’s was bustling. Everyone had arrived early morning to meet for a debrief and a big pack breakfast. You were exhausted from all of the shifting and could hardly keep your eyes open as you sat on your imprints lap, it didn’t help that he was tracing soft circles on the inside of your thigh. Paul kissed your neck and whispered in your ear.

“Baby I know you’re sleepy but you need to pay attention.” You couldn’t help but pout. Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer of not fighting, you didn’t realise how much being a new wolf took out of you.

Before you knew it Sam had stopped talking, it didn’t take as long as you thought it would, he just wanted to let the pack know that we’d be arriving shifted, they didn’t trust the Cullens entirely and it meant that we could communicate better through the link. Paul relaxed a little so you’re convinced that he’d prefer you to be shifted, better equip to protect yourself if anything should happen.

Early morning dew and fog still brushed against your ankles as you walked with Leah toward a group of trees, ready to strip your shorts and tank top to opt for your fur coat. You hadn’t been naked on purpose in front of Paul yet and you didn’t feel like today, this morning, would be the appropriate time. Neither do you think he’d appreciate your changing in front of the other guys. The cover of pines were definitely the safer option.

You could smell them before you could see them. It must be the most vile smell you’d ever come across, the only way you could describe it was a sickly sweet smell of decay. They were just over the tree lined bank, Sam, Jake and Paul were up front, you followed closely behind your mate, Leah right next to you. As your pack started to descend the slope Paul bared his teeth and let out a growl, you nuzzled his side with your snout, reassuring him it was okay.

“They don’t trust us enough to be in their human form.” One of them spoke, you hadn’t been introduced formally but you knew enough just by looking at the vampire, it must have been Edward clutching Bella’s very human hand. You’d never seen the Cullens up close, or some of them at all actually. You’d always stuck to your side of town un-knowingly and your nose was always stuck in a book that you hardly had a chance to realise what had been going on in the world. Looking at them now, you could see why they would be so dangerous, you’d read enough classical literature to know beauty was deadly, so they must have been the deadliest of them all.

“He’s a mind reader, some of the Cullens have special abilities.” Your heavy head turned to Leah, you really hope the vamp hadn’t heard your round about way of calling his family beautiful, if a wolf could facepalm you’d be doing exactly that.

A dialogue started between Sam and Edward, a handy thing Edward could read minds, communicating was possible in your four legged form.

You hadn’t realised you’d gotten closer and closer to Paul, your subconscious pulling you to be next to him. Your were a great deal smaller than him so it was easy to brush your muzzle against his neck. He whined and turned licking your nose. Some Texan vamp was talking about ‘ Don’t let a newborn get its arms around you”, you really should have been listening.

For a few hours early that morning you’d watched as the Cullens literally threw each other around the wooded clearing. Practising manoeuvres and attacks seemed to be the key focal point of todays session, one that you’d actually got involved in. For a while it was the Higher ranks that tried it out first, testing the waters to make sure it was safe for you all. Paul clearly enjoyed himself, if it wasn’t for the treaty you’re sure he would have liked to rip a few heads off the icy pale bodies. You’d practised with the mother figure of the group, Esme. She was sweet but it didn’t mean she let you off easy.

By the end of the day you were more tired than you thought possible. After leaving the clearing feeling more comfortable around the Cullens and changing back into actual clothes, Paul had to basically carry you to Sam and Emilys where dinner was waiting for the pack.

“I still don’t trust them.” Paul grunted as he sat himself down on a stool with you still in his arms. You subconsciously played with the hair at the nape of his neck making a shiver run through his body. The pack grunted in agreement and Sam sighed.

“We don’t really have a choice at this point, they haven’t broke any treaty rules or crossed any lines, were fighting the same battle. It’s just easier this way, we’ve never encountered something like they’re describing, we shouldn’t turn our nose up at an alliance, even if it is with the Cullens.”

You felt Paul was still pretty tensed. Now the day of the battle was drawing closer, as a pack you’d decided to stay at Emily and Sams, that being the general consensus while talking during the pack meal. The cabin on the beach looked deceiving on the outside, the small front had nothing on the back, the cabin much longer and wider, just hidden from sight through the trees. Now that the wall you phased through had been quickly mended, the house held a total of 6 rooms. He relaxed when it was agreed, knowing it meant no matter what kind of patrolling he had to do, he’d always be somewhat near you.

It was pretty late by the time you had to go and get your things from your family home. You were grateful your parents were out of town. They knew about you being a shifter, turns out your father had been one too. You were glad it wasn’t a secret you had to keep from them.

You’d gone up to your room by yourself, Paul was back at Sams talking over something private. In a world of your own you started packing a few bits to take to the cabin, unaware anything was amiss. It was only when you were snapped out of your dreamy daze by Pauls frantic shouting that you smelt it. A vampire had been in your room. Maybe it was because your senses all day had been overwhelmed with the stench of Cullens, but you hadn’t seemed to notice it right away. Paul did though. Before you knew it he had crashed through your open window, pushing you behind him searching for any danger. He was angry. Raging. You had to hold onto him just to stop him from shifting and tearing your house apart. Howls could be heard in the distance and no doubt the rest of the pack would arrive any moment.

Finally he calmed, looking you over one, two, three times before… he started shouting at you?

“How could you be so stupid Y/n?! You’re a wolf, you should be able to smell that a leech had been here! How could you be so reckless!”

You were shocked at his outburst, but not that much, after all it was Paul. In a split second you saw the old Paul Lahote rear his ugly head and it wasn’t a person you liked. It brought back unwanted memories of your imprint in your earlier years that you struggled to forget. It angered you, but mostly made you upset. You knew being an imprint from what you heard was meant to be bliss, heavenly, but the stories left out the parts like this, the over possessive nature which sometimes turned to fighting, the constant worry and the lack of personal space. Maybe it was because you were new at all of the wolf vampire stuff, but even you knew being someones imprint wouldn’t always be plain sailing. He was still shouting when the pack arrived outside your house. Goodie, they made it in time for a shit show. You could hear Leah arguing with Sam outside. Sensory overload or what. You sat down on your bed.

“Paul, get out.” It was barley a whisper, but it was loud enough that everyone stopped talking. He looked dumfounded, like someone had just slapped him hard across the face. He had calmed down now, now you could smell his worry rolling off him in waves.

“Babe I didn’t mea-“ You held your hand up.

“Paul please, go, i can’t talk to you right now. Go with Sam and i’ll come back with Leah, I just need a minute.” You walked away, Paul hot on your heels but you made it to the bathroom before he could do anything, closing and locking the door, your heart thudding. No one told you having a fight with your imprint was.. painful?

It was a while before you heard a commotion outside and then a gentle knocking on the bathroom door. Paul had finally left, even though it killed him to do so and Leah had taken his place, standing outside waiting for you to emerge. You couldn’t help the waterworks, it was safe to say you’d never experienced anything like this before.

An hour later you had finally calmed down after spilling over to Leah, you let out all of your emotion, she knew how it felt. You were confused, scared, happy all at the same time and it had been building and building, the truth is, you didn’t want to fight with Paul it was the last thing you wanted.

“It’s okay to be confused and frustrated Y/N, I know I was when I first shifted. You need to give yourself some credit, stop being so hard on yourself. Paul’s a douche, he always has been but I don’t think he meant to shout at you, I think he was just worried, we all were.” She was right, you did need to stop being so hard on yourself.

“Do you think i’ve let him stew enough yet, he’s a hot headed idiot but god I love him.” You stood up and packed the remaining things into your bag. Leah snickered behind you.

“What, what’s so funny?” You turned to your best friend with your arms folded across your chest, you watched as she wiggled her eyebrows and gave you a goofy ass smile, then it dawned on you.

“Oh my god, I love Paul frikin Lahote.”

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Hellooo please don't hate me for not updating for so long, i'm trying to find my way back to writing and slowly but surely getting there. I honestly dont know how I feel about this chapter.. let me know in the COMMENTS. Like/follow/re-blog <3333

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emily and sam dont date for a while. in this version they start dating around eclipse

emily is around the wolves like a mom though (more on this later)

emily is still going to college, and I think shes a psych major. now she either attends locally or online

emily chose, herself, to stay home. no help from sam

emily, knowing the signs after the incident of a werewolf, saw how young the boys were. same was 19, which was still kinda young, but these kids were 16 or 17, not even adults

She knew theyd need a confident outside the pack, so she volunteered to help. she took the role of pack mom and opened her home

as I said in the other post, sam is in therapy. the therapist knows about the pack being a thing, so he encourages the boys to see her

he is still stern and strict with the boys. this is because he is trying to lead these boys when hes only 3-4 years older.

the boys just assume the two are dating because emily is pack mom and sam is pack dad so, duh.

the two quickly correct that when they find out

paul doesnt have anger issues, but is more hormonal driven as a teenager. hes also shorter than most of the boys and that pisses him off

paul was close to being forced into therapy. luckily he found it on his own, and when we see him in new moon, hes just starting

I also go by the movies for leahs transformation, it was after her dad was attacked by victoria, because my girl has it rough

leah is still hurt by emily still being around sam, even if she knows they arent dating

leah slowly comes around, starting right before sam and emily started dating

right before, emily talks to leah about it

leah slowly agrees, though it will take longer to be fully comfortable with it

when the two start dating, little changes at first, beside sitting close together more often

soon, they start kissing goodbye and using pet names and t hgv e boys are lost

idk if jake would still make his own pack, but if he did, he'd realize why sam did the things he did, like being stern and making strict schedules

sam takes more shifts than any of the boys so they can be teenagers

he and emily are their call no questions asked contact if they get drunk or high or just unsafe in some way

emily lets the boys crash at her place

they are allowed to tell their parents what is going on

when they are all fully grown, seth is the tallest

they don't have to cut their hair

imprinting, as ive said, isnt like the books. it can happen multiple times and just shows inportant people to your life. might be as a friend, a guide, someone to teach you a lesson, and yes, sometimes love, but you have to put the work in to become the person you need to be through these experiences. (i might do a whole thread on this)

when jake crushes on bella, the boys are MERCILESS. from her liking a vampire, to it being a childhood thing, to nitpicky things friends will joke about ("how can she date such a short guy?" "shut up im half an inch shorter" "still shorter, ya dwarf!")

i think mind speak can be more controlled. they can put up barriers, and still have their private thoughts behind them. sometimes thise barriers drop though

this is how the boys figure out about the crush, before quill or embry join

jake just has a schoolboy crush, and when bella says no to him, he takes it well

he still tries to cinvince her to stay human, but in a (youre on of my best friends) way

sam helps the boys apply to college

sam didn't, and still doesn't know what he wants to do. he was on a 'gap year' when he shifted

(LGBT HEADCANONS AHOY) Paul is bi, you can fight me. he is struggling with it though, because masculinity is a bitch

seth is demi, quill is gay, and embry is poly and pan. these you dont have to fight me though

none of the boys care though because "we turn into magic wolves to fight vampires, you liking dick isn't the wierd thing here."

jacob's twin sisters know. they are out of state, but they send money to help emily feed them boys cause they still have that appetite.