#Unsurprisingly wasn't a white person

[zoekrystall]

I could rant abt how I hate germany and despise being german but instead of ranting will I just say everytime this awful country shows it stays nazi loving which is very often do I think abt that woman that was very kind to me for the few days I was at that one free hotel room in the short time I was homeless (honestly everyone but the fucking gov workers were sweet to me and I would die for them, never knew how much someone older seeing me as their child would make me want to cry) and said, nicer than I'll paraphrase, "yeah germany sucks I'm going back to my country" and gave me earrings and since then do I think of actually getting them pierced just for her. Was here for prob just a few days and already knew this place sucks.

[worldclueless]

trying to gather my thoughts and put this as eloquently as possible.

if you haven't caught up, recently jenson button gave an interview in which he gave advice to lewis hamilton about his move to ferrari. unsurprisingly, this spurred some 'discourse' (shudders) about how lewis ex-teammates-turned-pundits (mostly nico and jenson Imao) tend to give weird borderline-psycho analysis about lewis even though it has been quite a significant amount of time since they were teammates and who knows if this analysis is even too applicable to lewis as he has changed A LOT since his tenure with them.

and again, unsurprisingly, this brought out a chunk of the fanbase that can never pass up the opportunity to give a dig at lewis and treat guy's like jenson and nico's words like gospel. one frankly gross post went on and on and on about how unbothered jenson was during his time as lewis's teammate (no he was not) and how much of a paranoid weirdo freak lewis was about being challenged by a teammate (never mind the fact his first teammate was fernando fucking alonso).

and this is a worrying trend i see growing amongst a faction of f1 fans who try and ignore the context of lewis and his place in the sport. lewis is a black man in a predominantly white sport. jenson nor nico, no matter how much people will place them on some babygirl pedestal, will NEVER know what that means or what this is like so whenever i hear them recount their time together as teammates, the context of this is always lost.

in 2011, lewis had split with his dad as his manager and was going through a tumultuous time with his girlfriend, nicole. i don't know about you, but if my personal relationships with the people i cared about were on rocky grounds, that would tend to affect how i interact with people at my workplace. nevermind the fact that it was also magazine gossip fodder. that type of spotlight affects you heavy. especially working in the toxic environment of early 2010s mcclaren.

nowadays, lewis, at best, is professional and cordial with both jenson and nico which is not a problem but for some reason some fans think lewis's attention and time should be spent fawning and talking about these men. they're unable to see him as somebody that is not fanfiction fodder for their white faves and it is generally disturbing the lengths they will go to to justify their lack of empathy, compassion, and consideration of his place as he tries to exist within a space that was resistant to accommodating his identity (2007 barcelona testing anyone?).

and if it wasn't bad enough, these same 'fans' have the cheek to imply that hamilton is psychologically weak for not engaging with these guys beyond a professional level. the same man who was racially abused by grown white adults since the age of 12 is psychologically weak. wow. truly stunning. and these fans always give a half-hearted "yeah of course lewis has gone through some racial trauma but-" but nothing. end of. your what fav and you have no fucking clue as to what racial trauma does to black children and how it seriously impacts them. so don't ever try to erase this impact. you're overstepping: it's not your place.

so if it wasn't clear: lewis hamilton does not owe your white fav anything. if he wants to mind his business while rolling by in his scooter, that's not a problem. you brocedes/slagclaren types that only tolerate him for his proximity to these white men are frankly, racist, and your pathetic attempts to hide behind your racism because lewis isn't as perfect as he tries to be' (yeah no shit) make it such a hostile environment for black fans who can smell your bs from a mile away.

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

Thanks, Boss

---

The idea of returning to work had been a looming dark cloud at the back of Kate's mind for the last month. Her maternity leave was over, which meant leaving her babies behind.

She had never expected quadruplets--who did, after all? But they had all been born healthy, and all with voracious appetites. Since the price of formula had sky-rocketed, she had had no choice but to nurse them and pump.

"Pump?" her mother had asked when she told her. "You mean there's still some left in there after feeding four kids?!"

It had been so hard to explain that her pregnancy had made her mammaries go absolutely haywire. In addition to expanding to exorbant proportions, they always seemed to be in hyper production mode when it came to milk.

It meant her massive breasts always felt incredibly full and heavy. During the day, it had been fine because she was able to nurse frequently, but the moment her babies went to sleep for the night, her breasts basically had to be pumped constantly or else she would leak all through the night.

She was no idea how she was going to make it through her first day back at work.

Sitting in her car in the lot, she listened to the hum of the pumps getting out as much milk as possible before she had to go into the office. She hadn't planned to pump before work, but as it was, the biggest bra she owned had started to overflow with her expanding cleavage on the drive in. So rather than let them leak through her shirt, Kate popped the pumps on, changing them to the highest setting.

She reached into the box where she'd stored the empty bottles to be used at the lunch time pumping session, only to find the box was empty. She whipped around, accidentally slamming one her her breast against the car horn.

How on earth was it only 8:50 AM, and she had managed to fill all fifteen bottles?

With a worry, she watched as the last of the bottles still attached to the pump filled up. She turned it off and capped the bottles, placing them with the others in the electric cooler sitting in her passenger side seat.

Though the pumping session--15 bottles worth!--had given her some relief, she knew it wouldn't last long; she certainly wasn't anywhere close to empty.

Kate got out of the car, doing her best to shove her uncooperative, swollen breasts back into a bra that still felt too small. She buttoned up her white shirt, ignoring the huge gaps between buttons her swollen chest caused.

She was just working on the last stubborn button when she heard a familiar voice.

"Jesus, Kate..."

She looked up to see her coworker Todd standing a foot from her, slack-jawed. Unsurprisingly, his gaze was transfixed to her huge cleavage.

Her face flushed, and in her embarrassment, the button popped completely off her shirt. "H-Hi..."

It took Todd a while to respond.

"You umm... damn... those are..." He picked his lips, keeping his gaze transfixed upon her breasts.

"I know. Pregnancy really changes your whole body..." Though it was true for a lot of women, the same couldn't be said about Kate. Her body had pretty much gone exactly back to the way it was, save for now basically being a milk factory.

Finally, Todd looked away, if only to adjust himself so that his erection wasn't as obvious. "Breastfeeding twins I guess, right?"

"Quadruplets."

"Jesus Christ..." he breathed. A red hue crept across his face, and he had to adjust himself again. "I mean, you already had huge tits. Now, you're like..." He snuck a look down at them again. "What, a J cup?"

If only.

"An M..."

He smirked and swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bouncing. "M for Mega Mommy Milkers I guess... come on, let's go. We'll be late."

---

Kate stood before everyone in the lunch room, her face ablaze. Her coworkers were all men, and every single one of their gazes was trained on her engorged breasts.

The only person who didn't make her feel uncomfortable was her boss, Nolan. Tall and quiet, it would have been easy to mistake him for shy or weak willed. But he ran the company like a tight ship.

"Please make Kate feel welcome back after her maternity leave." He smiled out at his workers. "And if anyone should need a refresher on our sexual harassment policy, I would be glad to assist."

Kate heaved a sigh of relief. He had always been a good boss, looking our for people, and now--

A button from her blouse shot from her shirt, shooting across the room. Another followed, and another as her breasts tried to burst from her top.

She scrunched her eyes shut, partially in pain from engorgement and partially because she didn't want to look at the drooling men in front of her anymore.

'I'm so fucking full of milk... I really need to pump...' she anguished in her head. Though she could feel her nipples ache for release, her break was so far away. Even if it wasn't, she had already used up all her empty bottles; where would she put all of it?

"Kate, why don't you come to my office for some privacy so you can pump?"

Nolan's deep timber was polite as always; he was such a sweet angel. Grabbing her bag with the pumps in it, she made her way from the lunch room to her boss's office. Her breasts swayed and sloshed this way and that with every step she took, milk dampening her teats.

"I'm so sorry," she confessed, sitting down on the couch in his office.

Without the buttons on her shirt, she knew he could see the blue veins on her massive mammaries that indicated how full she was. Even more so, she realized her bra barely fit anymore; more than half her areolas poked out from behind the bra's desperate attempt at coverage.

"It's fine. You're a new mother, it happens."

She beamed back at him. How lucky she was to have such an understanding boss. "Thank you..."

"I noticed you didn't bring any bottles in though." He ducked into the small closet deside the water cooler.

"Y-Yeah, I sort of... used them all up already..."

He emerged from the closet with two empty 5 gallon jugs normally used for water coolers. "Will these do? Ordinarily I would say they'd be overkill, but you do nurse quadruplets... You must produce an incredible amount of milk."

Kate was too grateful and relieved to pay much mind to the embarrassment. She took the giant jugs from him and placed them on each side of her on the couch as Nolan sat down at his desk.

But rather than stare at her expanding and near-bursting mammaries, he looked down at his laptop and worked.

He didn't even glance over when she hoisted her one breast out of the bra to hook the pump on. Soon, the room filled with the relaxing hums of the pumps working on overtime. Her milk drained into the water jugs as she leaned back on the couch and watched her broad shouldered boss work.

He was so calm, and made her feel so comfortable...

'I want him to put his babies in me.'

Her clit throbbed at the idea she never knew she could concoct. But as she continued watching him, the ache of her breasts slowly subsided.

Finally, after two hours, she felt something she'd never experienced before. She pulled the pump away, and her teat didn't even drip.

She was actually empty!

Cleaning her supplies up, she eyed the 5 gallon jugs that were both nearly filled to the brim. "I guess all that milk was really in me..."

Nolan looked up, and flashed her a smile that made her weak. "It's definitely a lot. Do you need to keep it for your babies?"

"N-No..." Despite the major pump session, she knew she would be full by the time she got home. "Do you want me to dump it, or--"

Nolan got to his feet and placed a cap on one of the jugs. Removing the old one from the water cooler, he placed the uncapped one in its place. The machine made air bubbles pop to the surface of the milk as it seaped downward. With a flick of his finger on the trigger, Nolan filled a paper cup up with milk.

He raised it to her, smiling. "Cheers."

---

🐮❤️

[whbtheories]

Character Preview: Satan

Domain: Gehenna

Sin: Wrath

Birthday: July 14 (Cancer)

Idiosyncrasy: spanking

Mental condition: depression

Ability: shapes the blood of those who love him

Theme colours: red, white

~

Interest

Of all the demons in What In Hell Is Bad? seen thus far, Satan's proclivities are perhaps the most tame of all, with only spanking highlighted as sparking his interest.

That said, his subjects are apparently big fans of being hit on the regular by their ruler, and his depression makes him quite the slapper.

Depression and Satan often go hand in hand, whether he is being blamed for it afflicting mortal beings, or portrayed as conquered antagonist or tragic figure.

And of course, his love of violence fits his sin to a tee.

We are told he is a lover of being both the spanker and spankee, but that anyone who gets with him on that level will soon be used to the submissive role 👀

(NB - the usage of S and M as personality traits in this context don't fully translate to sadist and masochist, but rather to dominant and submissive, or assertive and passive personality types.)

July is not a month associated with Satan, however the 14th is apparently Pandemonium Day - with Pandæmonium also being Milton's name for the capital of Hell, ruled by Satan, in Paradise Lost.

If we turn to the lunar calendar then July is also home to the Hungry Ghosts Festival, in which the ghost door opens and allows spirits to walk among us 👀

(The 15th of the 7th lunar month is when Dìguān, the Earthly Official of Taoism, visits this realm to absolve people of sins... And perhaps Satan seeks to beat him to the punch with his tempting deals.)

~

Personality

The ruler of Wrath is unsurprisingly said to be the most violent of all seven kings of hell, but despite this he is friends with all his subjects, an interesting feat.

It helps that the residents of Gehenna actively enjoy being the target of his wrath, with even Ppyong enjoying being slapped on his lil booty.

Satan spends his nights drinking with lesser demons in back alley taverns, suggesting a more casual approach to his conduct. Not so prim or proper.

He is also the first demon we meet in-game, and he is depicted as intense, knowledgeable, and tactically smart. And of course, exceedingly horny. He has a lot of ego but seemingly the skills and wisdom to back it up.

In this respect he is similar to Obey Me Satan in having a strategical mind and a flair for the dramatic, but unlike that Satan, WHB Satan seems confident in expressing multiple emotions without losing his head in his passion.

In tandem with Lucifer - and including Beelzebub who is often conflated with both - Satan is the demon most frequently portrayed in our media, historical and contemporary, and generally appears as one of two archetypes: the odious and not terribly bright monster of Dante's Inferno, often gifted with red skin and pitchfork; or the charming tragic figure of Paradise Lost, who may or may not bring ruination to us all.

This Satan is definitely in the latter camp, though just how charming he can be is yet to be revealed...

~

Aesthetics, symbolism, and my rating in the cut! ↓

Aesthetics

Satan is very much the pretty boy of the demon kings we've seen thus far, with long flowing locks, elegantly long horns, and an innocent looking face - well, other than the glowing red eyes, black cross pupils, and inverted cross mid-forehead.

His long black horns are tipped with blood red to match his eyes, and this colour also highlights his jumpsuit with a Seal of Solomon on each arm.

That seal is repeated in silver as his belt buckle, giving us a demon that is marked by Solomon three times - quite the statement. And in case it wasn't clear, he has the number 666 on him twice, as well as 'Gehenna'.

A full view of his outfit also reveals some katakana but it's beyond my translation abilities - I get something similar to boom/explosion isle which feels half correct at best. Although actually...

I wonder if it's a nod to Bakuon Rettou itself, which would certainly explain Satan's bōsōzoku style outfit 🤔 It's a subculture look from the 80s in Japan, consisting mostly of jumpsuits and bad biker boy aesthetic, with a dose of pseudo-nationalism to a greater or lesser extent - very problematic for irl nationalism, but fitting for a king of hell. They also put slogans on their jumpsuits that were translations of "cool sounding English" (eg "boom island", the literal translation of Bakuon Rettou.)

Bōsōzoku are an old fad now, but as a fashion type they are still popular in surrounding countries, thanks to popular media like the Bakuon Rettou manga.

(And on an even bigger tangent, they were heavily associated with nameneko merchandising, which as you can probably guess is cat related! OM Satan would approve of that part.)

If we see Satan on a motorbike, consider that one solved!

The inverted cross is also repeated - on his boots, his pants, and in the negative space of his heart pendant. This is a far more modern symbol of the occult, as until recent decades it was a holy symbol representing St. Peter.

In modern pop culture though the inverted cross is synonymous with Satan, hence its appearance here.

The placement on the forehead is also notable, as this is where the ash cross is placed on those repenting their sins - the inversion of that would suggest pride and relish of one's sins. Again, fitting for Satan himself.

And he has a final inverted cross on a long cord trailing from his hips to his knees - in this case one that is remiscent of Celtic high and Anglo-Saxon crosses of old.

This cord, along with his many belts and those boots, also ties in with the bōsōzoku vibe.

His thematic colours of white and red are a very provocative choice. White is a colour mostly associated - in this context - with angels and beings of celestial origin, as well as the concepts of purity, divinity, and origin.

For Satan himself to sport the holiest of colours is deliberately bold, not least with it accented by the colour of blood, of violence, and of passion.

His outfit is casual to the extreme but styled expertly. He very much gives the vibes of a delinquent king who is down to drink with his subjects, and he is also the leader whose outfit has least in common with the other residents of his realm.

In some ways this could suggest a demon who is careless about his throne, but imo Satan's look more strongly suggests supreme confidence in his reign.

A (pink-toned) blonde Satan reminds me of Lucifer from DC/Vertigo comics, who unlike Tom Ellis is platinum blonde and fed up of hell, as well as Satan from Ao no Exorcist who is the king of, wait for it, Gehenna.

[I'll dig into Gehenna in another blog ( ಠ▿▿ಠ)و ̑̑]

The only portrayal that comes to mind that has both blonde hair and red eyes though is Lucifer in Shingeki no Bahamut: Genesis - who also sports long black horns tipped with red. Personality wise though, they are completely different.

Overall his look is quite becoming, youthful with a knowing smirk, and absolutely made to tempt with large eyes, and teasing tongue behind a fanged grin.

~

My Rating

Firstly I should admit my own bias - after Mammon, Satan was always going to be the demon I would judge most harshly as I am a big fan of how he is portrayed in Obey Me.

That take on Satan, and the intricacies involved in his origin from Lucifer and subsequent strained relationship and burgeoning personality, are admittedly undercut by later in-game writing that reduced him to a far flatter interpretation. But still, the juice was there!

So, bear in mind that this is a harsh personal eye I am casting upon this Satan.

Satan and Lucifer both have the biggest challenge in being portrayed in a new and unique fashion, having been done so many times before, and in my opinion this Satan does an excellent job of establishing himself with an iconic new look.

The long pastel hair and large eyes give great contrast to massive horns and slit pupils, while his outfit is impressively modern and stylish.

Only one very minor criticism would be the lack of tail, but considering none of the WHB demons have yet been shown with one, that is either a deliberate stylistic choice for the whole game, or we simply haven't yet been granted permission to see them. Either way, as it applies to all, it can be disregarded.

This Satan stands as very distinct from OM Satan, and really from any other Satan I can think of. The long hair is a really nice touch, especially given his overall contemporary vibes.

One of the prettiest Satans I've seen, and one of the most intriguing.

10/10.

[miss-andromeda]

When It's Time To Go - Excerpt

I am on a roll with these excerpts! Here's one from the next chapter of All's Fair, called When It's Time To Go. I am so sorry for the delay, college has been a pain and really dampered my motivation, but I promise; next chapter is coming soon! 🩷

----------

When they got there, though, it didn't look peaceful and quiet. Chairs were being thrown around, glass was being shattered, punches were being thrown...the poor guy was getting ransacked in his own restaurant by three goons.

"Oh no!" April cried as Andi gasped, grabbing her gun from her garter belt as all six of them ran closer to get a better look at the damage.

"Who are those creeps?" Donnie asked, instinctively going to stand beside Andi. He couldn't help it; after they had just hung out, his protectiveness over her was on high alert. Even if these guys didn't look that intimidating, he wasn't about to take any chances.

"The Purple Dragons." April told them grimly as they watched as a pot was kicked to the floor and a chair was thrown aside and smashed to bits. Meanwhile, a white lucky cat was tossed around like a ball, before being met with the same fate as the chair. 

Andi scowled at the trio - and at how blatantly disrespectful they were being. "They think they're tougher than they actually are. The only thing they actually have going for them is that they're the local gang and they know how to evade the police." She was completely oblivious to Mikey scowling at them just like she was, Donnie being less intimidated and more annoyed, and Leo and Raph sharing a look, silently asking how they were going to take these guys down.

Meanwhile, the gang still hadn't had enough of tormenting the poor man. The leader, Fong, decided to try and exploit his blindness by tapping him on the shoulder and assaulting him again. But holding a wooden cutting board, Murakami got the better of him and hit him right in the neck, sending him flying into the back table and gasping for breath. 

His buddies laughed, thinking it was pretty pathetic for the leader of the Dragons to be so affected by something as simple as a cutting board. Taking that personally, Fong growled at him and when the man had let his guard back down (thinking Fong had backed off,) said leader backhanded him across the face, making a stunned Murakami fall to his knees. He then grabbed the blind man by the scruff of his neck and threw him into the wall.

Okay, now they needed to interfere.

As they all waited against the wall for the perfect opportunity, Leo remarked, "So much for not hitting people tonight." And Raph agreed with a cocky smirk, "Oh well."

"Let me know if you need help." Andi muttered to them as she powered up her gun, setting it to the new 'human' feature instead of the default 'kill' feature. It was a new setting she added after encountering Rockwell. She knew she didn't have the heart to murder someone (human or mutant) in cold blood, so she added another setting to stun her target (and possibly cause some broken bones with its force,) but nothing lethal. 

As long as she didn't aim for the head.

The boys nodded (with Donnie giving her an appreciative look,) before charging in, Mikey exclaiming a "Booyakasha!" to get the trio's attention. 

And admittedly, he succeeded. The trio stared in stunned silence at the four of them - more in disbelief that there were actual turtles in their city instead of panic that they were caught.

However, the boys felt the exact opposite - with Leo voicing all of their inner thoughts. "All right, let him go. You don't want any trouble." He threatened them, his voice as cool as ice.

Unsurprisingly, Raph felt basically the opposite. "We, on the other hand, do."

"Whoa, those guys were serious!" Fong exclaimed, glancing at his buddies with more surprise than panic or anger. "There really are giant turtles!" And considering the staredown the boys had started to receive from the other two, they figured that whoever tipped off the Dragons about them were natural enemies of them. 

Not good.

But Mikey only focused on the absolute surface of the situation. "You've...heard of us?" He asked, temporarily lowering his fists as a smile formed on his face. "Dudes, we're famous!" He cheered. This was what he wanted after they ended up on the news all those weeks ago! They had done it! Major league, baby!

But Donnie was quick to shut his hopes and dreams down. "That's bad!"

And then Mikey remembered why that was the case and went back to being imposing, coupled with an 'oh, right.'

However, instead of leaping into taking them down, Fong decided to taunt them a bit. "Whatever you are, this neighborhood is ours. So why don't you slither back to the ocean you came from?"

Once again, instead of leaping into the action, Donnie decided it would be a good idea for some clarification - as well as an evolution theory. "Actually, we're freshwater turtles." He then put his hand to his chin, immediately going into deep thought. "I suspect we're derived from the diamondback terrapin, but it's possible we're a common box-"

All while Leo and Raph were staring at him like 'seriously?' and Mikey glanced at his brother with confusion. 

Oh, if only Andi were here...she'd probably join in the discussion.

Thankfully, Fong broke up the ridiculousness with a "get 'em!"

And his buddies listened, using the tools they were using to destroy the restaurant, like a sledgehammer. However, since they were just common thugs, they weren't the brightest when it came to combat, so when it came to actually attacking, Leo skillfully dodged a swing from the sledgehammer once, then twice, then let Mikey use his shell as a springboard to jump off it, then hit the sledgehammer-wielding thug with a double spinning kick, sending him spiraling into the wall. 

But he wasn't done. Raising his sledgehammer again, he went to attack Mikey - but this time, was met with Raph, who dodged the slow swings effortlessly and, when the opportunity struck him, hit the thug directly in the face, making him stumble back and crash into the wall.

Meanwhile, Donnie and Mikey were ganging up on the other goon, with the oafish man trying to punch Donnie. But since his attack was too slow, Donnie easily avoided it and performed a sweep-kick, sending the man to the floor. 

Thinking that Donnie had it covered, Mikey turned around and noticed a bowl of ramen resting comfortably against the counter. Maybe it was an order Murakami had forgot to put away?

Well, why not take a quick snack break and see why the girls liked this place so much?

But that was before he and Donnie took turns mindlessly punching and kicking the thug back and forth until he finally had enough and fell to the ground in pain.

Noticing the boys had been making good work of them, Andi and April found themselves crawling on the floor to find Murakami - all while avoiding the broken glass and flurry of punches and kicks being thrown every which way. And when they finally found the blind man laying on the floor, April gasped and reached him first, gently shaking his shoulder to try and get his attention.

"Mr. Murakami?" Andi whispered to him, now more concerned than angered. "Are you okay? It's us, April and Andromeda. We're gonna get you out of here, sir."

When he started to stir, Andi sighed in relief as she glanced at April. "Keep helping him, Ape. I'll make sure nothing happens to you." She promised, and when April gave her a steely nod, the caramel-haired girl peeked over the counter - and her eyes immediately widened at the sight as she frantically got her gun out again. 

While Mikey was distracted by the bowl of ramen, the sledgehammer-holding goon had gotten off the floor and had raised the hammer, ready to strike.

Growling to herself, Andi aimed at the thug's chest and shot at him, making him wince in pain as he fell to the floor.

Mikey glanced at the now stunned man, confused as to what happened. But when he saw Andi putting her gun away, he grinned at her and gave her a thumbs up. "Thanks, Andi! Sick gun!"

Andi gave him a little smile and an acknowledging nod. "Anytime. And thanks." She then glanced at April and Murakami, with her friend having propped the blind man onto her shoulder. "Let's get you out of here, Mr. Murakami." She told him, putting his left arm over her shoulder to help April and helping them out of the restaurant. 

It was only when a plate started flying towards them did they get scared again. "Duck!" April screamed, making all three of them wince as they quickly ducked their heads.

Thankfully, that was the only hazard as the girls got Murakami out of there and rested him on the restaurant's exterior wall to help him get his bearings back. 

Meanwhile, Donnie had been elegantly dodging attacks by one of the other thugs. His attacks were easy to predict. He would swing to the left, so Donnie would dodge right. He would try swinging right, and Donnie would swing left. As he predicted before while fighting alongside Mikey, these guys were not the brightest thugs in the world. 

Actually, that was giving him too much credit. They may have been the most pathetic criminals he had ever seen - either in person or on TV. At least Stockman was a genius and could build new weapons and technology. 

These guys, though? The dictionary definition of pathetic.

And Donnie knew that as one strong kick to the chest would send him flying into the farthest wall. 

And all that was left was Fong, and Leo had stepped up to challenge him. The leader of the Dragons was holding a cleaver and was clearly not afraid to use it, but the blue-masked leader was daring him to try, a cold and steely look in his matching blue eyes.

But Fong decided to try his luck. He swung the cleaver at Leo, but he was no match - Leo sent the weapon flying and hit him twice in the chest to catch him off guard. And then kicked the leader in the face, sending him skidding across the counter and making him slam into the wall.

And once again, Leo was faster, sliding onto the counter himself. Just like Fong did to Murakami, Leo grabbed the man by his black vest and raised his fist, seemingly about to finish him off. 

Though something changed. When Fong winced in pain, bracing the inevitable, Leo's cold demeanor faded as he lowered his fist and let go of Fong's vest. They weren't the biggest threat they had ever faced, admittedly. Sure, they were scum for beating up a defenseless blind man in his own restaurant, but they weren't necessarily evil like the Shredder.

However, Leo made it clear that they weren't to be messed with. "Get out of here." He said in a harsh growl, his eyes glaring daggers at him. 

Rather than be scared and thank him for showing such mercy, Fong pushed past him with a cocky smirk on his face and hopped off the counter with an odd amount of swagger. They may have lost, but he was still alive and walking. And the best part was, they could confirm to the higher-ups that the turtles did exist. 

Win-win.

"C'mon, let's go!" Fong called to his buddles, trying to shake them awake. Once they did and started to get up (though the sledgehammer-wielding one had more trouble than the oafish one,) their leader decided to end the fight with a taunt: "This ain't over, greeny!"

He then followed such a brilliant taunt as he ran into the street after his men.

"Greeny? Really?" Donnie asked, more insulted with the insult than their fighting skills. Somehow, their vocabulary was worse - by a mile. "I wonder how many brain cells he took to come up with that."

Meanwhile, Raph was the opposite - less focused on the insult and more focused on how Leo decided to end the fight. "You just let him go? What the heck was that?" He yelled to his blue-masked brother once the latter had hopped off the counter.

However, Leo was more calm than Raph was. "They weren't exactly a threat. They'd had enough." He reasoned. 

But Raph still took issue with that line of thinking. "Dude! They were beating up a blind guy! There is no enough! Now they'll think we're wimps and we didn't have the guts to finish the job!"

Leo looked down at the floor, now processing what Raph had said. It was hard to really believe that what he was saying was objective fact (Raph could be a bit of a raging bull after all,) but at the same time...the way Fong brushed past him like nothing was wrong...maybe his brother did have a point.

His thought process was broken though as the girls came back inside with a now-conscious Murakami as he held his head. "Wow, that was great, you guys!" April cheered as she helped Murakami sit down on one of the stools. 

Andi agreed, a bright smile on her face. "I knew you would mop the floor with those guys!" She added, making Donnie turn bashful as he smiled back at her. 

"Thanks, girls. Uh, Andi, did you see when I caught that one guy and flipped him onto the counter? Did it look cool?" He asked (complete with motions and everything,) giggling to himself as the prospect of impressing her. "I bet it looked cool." He added to himself, glancing at her with hope.

Rather than being impressed, though, Andi smirked knowingly at him. "You forget, I saved Mikey from getting a sledgehammer to the cranium, then I helped April in getting Mr. Murakami out of the restaurant. So how could I see it?" She then realized something else - and decided to ruin his hope further. "And considering you just described what you did in detail and even pantomimed what happened, it doesn't take a genius to assume that didn't even really happen."

When Donnie didn't respond, only pouted at her with a mock glare, she laughed and patted the top of his head. "Aw, don't worry, Don. You'll have more chances to impress me."

She ignored the warm blush growing on his face as Murakami addressed the six of them. "My friends, I am indebted to you. Please, allow me to make you a meal. Free of charge."

At that prospect, all six of them became curious - though the girls looked at the boys with excitement at trying Murakami's excellent cooking. "I think we can allow that." Raph replied, admittedly surprised at Murakami's kind demeanor. Even if he was blind, he didn't act like they were freaks or mutants. He treated them with respect and even called them 'friends,' even after they just met. 

He had to admit, he liked this guy.

"What is your favorite dish?" Murakami asked, expecting them to say something like gyoza, ramen, or onigiri. Something traditionally Japanese that was a staple of his menu. 

What he was not expecting was the unanimous response of: 

"PIZZA!"

----------

Rather than suggest they order something else, though, Murakami took this as a challenge.

He was completely in his element in the kitchen; checking woks, stir-frying vegetables with ease, adding seasoning, making sure everything was at the right temperature...it was like he didn't even need his sight to cook. He had all the measurements, times, and ingredients in his head down to the exact second and perfectly prepared. And it all culminated in perfectly slicing the gyoza he had made.

No wonder the girls liked this place so much. 

"Murakami-san, that was awesome!" Donnie cheered, with Mikey adding, "You're like a ninja but with food!"

Touched by the compliment, Murakami presented the four of them with four square wooden plates, all having what looked like regular gyoza. But then Murakami announced it to them, "Pizza gyoza."

"Pizza gyoza?" Andi and April asked at the same time as they sat next to the boys, confused at the concept. Gyoza was just fried dumplings, so did that mean Murakami put pizza toppings inside the dumpling like a calzone?

Rather than answer, though, the boys started eating their gyoza (at the same time,) and almost immediately, their eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their heads. A delighted reaction came from all of them as they continued eating. It was just like when they had pizza for the first time - where had this been their entire lives?

"It's like I got a one-way ticket to Flavorville!" Donnie exclaimed, before picking up another gyoza with his chopsticks and holding it out to Andi. "Andi, try it! You'll absolutely love it!"

Immediately, Andi backed away from it, admittedly a bit nervous. "Uh, actually, I'm kinda-" She was then cut off by Donnie fluttering his nonexistent eyelashes at her and asking, "Please? For me?"

Darn him and that cute look of his. 

Finally, she relented and sighed, closing her eyes. "All right, fine." She then opened her mouth, completely oblivious to the little smile and slight blush Donnie had again as he fed her. And similar to the boys, her eyes lit up as a huge smile appeared on her face. "Mm!" She exclaimed as she swallowed, then grinned at the purple-masked turtle. "You're right!" She then eyed his plate, and her smile turned from bright to bashful. "Um...could I just have one more?"

His smile could've lit up the entire city as he nodded and fed her one more.

All the while, April and Mikey were giggling over how obviously flirty they were being, while Raph and Leo were smirking knowingly at each other. 'They'd better get together soon,' they told each other.

But then the conversation shifted from watching Andi and Donnie to wanting to know about the Dragons - specifically from Leo. "Uh, Murakami-san, do the Purple Dragons come around a lot?"

Murakami sighed at the question. "Yes. They demand protection money, but I refuse to pay. They will surely return." By the solemn tone in his voice, it was obvious this was a common occurrence for him.

"Well, they wouldn't if somebody hadn't wimped out." Raph commented, looking directly at Leo. This made the blue-masked turtle look down, now starting to reconsider even more. Maybe Raph was right; if he hadn't spared Fong, Murakami wouldn't have to bear the stress of being harassed and possibly attacked again by those goons.

As if to add a bit of insult to injury, while Leo was distracted, Mikey swooped in and grabbed the last three gyoza on his older brother's plate as fast as light. But Leo noticed, and when he saw Mikey innocently eating the stolen food, he glared at his youngest brother - all while Mikey gave him a mischievous smile. 

Okay, he already felt guilty about letting Fong go, he didn't need his food stolen on top of it.

----------

@tinkabelle19 @android-cap-007 @happymoonangel @kikithedreamerwriter @jasminarts01 @raphsmuneca @m1dnyt3-w0lf @margoteve #@raphsmuneca

[thesweetnessofsalt]

Process Blog #1

Process Blog #1 covers the title page and first five pages of Chapter 3.

So lately, I've been journaling while making comic pages. Sometimes it's just to note process things, like what brushes I used or continuity items. Sometimes it's writing related - why I revised a line, or just thoughts I have about the characters while I translate it to the page. Sometimes it's just a joke, or a fun fact that didn't make the final cut.

That's what you're getting in these process blogs: a behind-the-scenes look at TSOS. For the most part, there will be no spoilers in these blogs! If there ever are, I'll mark them obnoxiously. Enjoy!

Title Page

Previous title pages have come to represent a significant location in that chapter. In Chapter 3, the girls finally get to leave the cottage! (Ok, it's only been about a day for them. But for all of us...?) 

Originally, this was a day scene because that’s how this location appears in the chapter, but once I got into the interiors, the colors and tone just didn't flow from one to the other. So the banners became string lights, day became night, and I cropped us in for a cozier composition. Now, behold; the flow:

Anyway, get excited for the town scenes. They're good ones :)

Let's talk balls:

Leah’s balls of light, maybe unsurprisingly, are inspired by Eilonwy’s in The Black Cauldron. As a kid, I reeeally wanted those balls.

Leah’s magic so far has been pretty unobtrusive - and that’s not necessarily characteristic of all magic in this universe as much as it’s an extension of Leah. She’s a little repressed. But these whimsical, physical pieces of magic might indicate how Sha’s been making her feel instead.

The balls are basically a swirly brushstroke - I did them that way once, and it felt right. Like they were made by a person - not just once, but over and over, by Leah and by me, in every panel. So I left it that way. I'm doing that a lot lately, indulging in mark-making and leaving things unpolished, just so it's not forgotten: comics are magic, made by people, always.

Wardrobe Changes

Sha's wearing what I refer to as 'the rom-com sweater', a usually white/cream sweater worn by relatable protagonists or appealing love interests (think Nora Ephron flicks - incidentally, another big inspiration for TSOS's general vibe).

I tried inked ribbing at first, but it wasn't quite cozy enough, so I used a couple knit brushes from the Alan Pattern Knit Brush instead (Content ID 1892449 on Clip Studio Assets).

Leah's robe is from the first few pages of Chapter 1, though I took out the pattern for simplicity's sake.

Coo and aww over how Leah turned the stone Sha found into a necklace now, cus that's the only spoiler-free aspect I can talk about at the moment. ;) 

There's gonna be lots of wardrobe changes in Chapter 3! It covers more physical time than the previous two chapters, which I find very exciting (and not just for all the opportunities where I get to dress them up).

That's all for now - stuff to look forward in Process Blog #2: Sha's backstory, stylized flashback sequences, and historical inspiration!

And if you have any questions about the process, leave it in the comments! I'll answer them in the next blog.

Process Blog #1 was originally published June 19, 2023 on Ko-fi. Supporters get early access to TSOS pages and process blogs!

[chainsxwsmile]

@macrolago answered:

It was safe to say Gill was no stranger to danger, though while he was aware that there still ought to be some limits for a small fish in the big ocean, this situation was… specific. After all, it was one thing for larger predatory fish to pick off some smaller unlucky others, who couldn’t quite hide or swim away in time, and be on their way. That was truthfully only natural in the ocean, as unfortunate as it was for the latter party. But this was clearly proving to be more than a necessary hunt to merely stave off hunger. Even fish who were well hidden were being meticulously ambushed, dragged out of their homes and hiding spots by a gang of gluttonous brutes who didn’t seem to know (or, perhaps rather, care) when to leave well enough alone. They were more or less bullies, as far as Gill saw, plain and simple. But large and dangerous bullies with apparently oversized appetites. And, of course, no fish around here was really fit to challenge such a threat without very likely being eaten, themselves. There were plenty of fish in the sea… but these guys seemed to have planned on clearing out this neighborhood in particular. And frustration had taken the wheel over his sense of self preservation, so Gill began to swim over with the intention of giving who looked to be the head of the outfit a piece of his mind. Perhaps Gill figured, surely, he was clever and quick enough to have a decent chance of getting away if they were, unsurprisingly, not the listening-to-reason type. Or, maybe, a part of him knew that what was probably more likely was that he might just be able to distract the predators long enough to let at least a few more fish find more secure hiding spots or even flee the reef altogether to safely wait out the danger. And he'd decided to take it upon himself to risk such. Gill didn’t make it far, though, before the sense of something (or, as it would turn out, someone) very large looming over him was almost impossible to ignore. And the frantic, though hushed, warnings from his friends, hiding nearby on the outskirts of the reef amongst rocks and seagrass, for Gill to ‘turn around’, ‘look out’ and the like, only really confirmed his suspicion. He slowed to a halt, looking upwards with the dreadful expectation of seeing that this situation only suddenly became much worse by a far bigger and even more dangerous new predator. But this Great White, as far as Gill had learned up to this point, usually really wasn’t looking to cause trouble. Least of all for smaller fish who were far more vulnerable than himself. Fins flicked at Gill’s side, as he heard the order and almost obeyed… but then reconsidered as he repositioned himself to address Bruce properly.

“You know? Normally, I’d be hesitant to argue with sharks, but I’m afraid they’ve made this a bit personal.” Hiding? Oh, no. Although it may have been a risk, Gill wanted to have his place in this reef known. The Great White's arrival had given him an idea, though. "I'm not be opposed to the company, though. Maybe you've got something that'll help our unwelcome guests reconsider their actions tonight?" Though he was speaking vaguely, he looked Bruce over in a way so as to indicate that the 'something' he was referring to was, well, Bruce.

The great white blinked a moment at Gill's response before realization settled in and lifted a brow. "What've ye got in mind?" Bruce asked, not bothering to hide a mischievous grin that wormed its way onto the shark's face.

Although Bruce had always preferred a bit of persuasive public speaking, he wasn't entirely against throwing his weight around for a good reason. The few perks that came with such a threatening display of enormity and a multitude of serrated teeth meant that he had to do little to persuade the average predator -- and even the average bully-- into submission. Nonviolently, of course, with usually little to no effort on his part. A grin a few inches too wide, leaning in a bit close just to get the point across for his defense. Not for his own gain, of course, but for the safety of his fish friends. As the largest carnivorous fish in the seas, friends were a bit hard to come by and harder still to maintain.

Making sure no one got gobbled up on his watch tended to be one of Bruce's highest priorities nowadays. And for a friend of little Nemo, that wasn't asking much at all.

"Well, I reckon I gotta ask first who's on yer tail. Groupers? Snappers? Grunts?" A myriad of mesopredators habitually made their ways through the reef every now and then.

[canichangemyblogname]

OKAY. So I have not yet finished the first 3 episodes of Andor and I know there are so many amazing gifs and discussions I'm missing rn because I still have the tags blocked to avoid spoilers.

Below the cut, I am going to share one of my favorite things (so far) about the show at only 2 episodes in. Warning for Andor spoilers.

I am enjoying how these two episodes have so far portrayed the role that white people and the every-day person play in upholding oppressive and authoritarian regimes.

And I bet you think that I am going to start to talk about Syril Karn, and the role his ambition, dedication, and commitment to order and rules and a strict sense of right and wrong play in the upholding of an authoritarian regime. But I'm not. Because Deputy Inspector Karn is the quintessential, even archetypal, authoritarian sycophant that white people think of when they think of who plays a role in the conservation of injustice and tyranny. When you ask a white person to think of a fascist or of someone who upholds an unjust, tyrannical system, they may often imagine a man in uniform. They imagine an officer, someone with more status, or someone with rank. *Those* are the people who actively uphold unjust systems.

They don't, however, imagine the mechanic down the street. He never crosses their mind as someone who is capable of, willing to, or even a participant in the maintenance of authoritarianism or inequity or injustice or the surveillance state.

Syril Karn is predictable to white people-- to everyone. We know what he is going to do. And I found myself exhausted by his persistence, but generally uninvested in the question of whether or not his character will make the morally right choices. Because I know he won't. He's making the morally correct choices according to the system he exists within, but the morally wrong choices according to the reality we live in. He's a "good guy" according to the ruling power base and the Preox-Morlana corporate authority, but we the viewer know he is the main antagonist and is making choices we should be morally opposed to. And we know he isn't going to make decisions we morally approve of. Why? Because he is the quintessential authoritarian lackey.

But Timm Karlo? He's just your average guy, right? And every time he appeared on screen, I felt like I was was mentally debating with and berating a brick wall about making a morally correct decision. And, so far, he repeatedly hasn't (unsurprisingly). He has repeatedly chosen the "morally correct" course of action *according to* the ruling power base and the Preox-Morlana corporate authority, but the morally incorrect course of action according to the reality we live in and the context from which we viewers are consuming this show.

I think I know where his character is going. I knew that he wasn't going to let up. I knew he was going to continue to stick his nose where it didn't belong. I didn't have hope that he would actually make the correct decisions. That's why I felt like I was berating a brick wall. Because I knew nothing I said or did would get through to him because 1.) he's a fictional character inside a TV show, and 2.) he's your average white guy who feels spurned.

When he first decided to follow Bix Caleen, I literally cringed in the same way someone might when they're watching a gory horror movie. Honestly? I was getting second hand embarrassment. My coworker asked what was wrong after my very visceral reaction (I may have watched half an episode during my lunch, don't judge), and my response was, "I'm watching a white man stick his nose in brown people's business." I commented that he was going to get himself and all of them in trouble because he couldn't mind his own and he couldn't be trusted not to run to the cops, either. And I was right. Because he essentially turns Cassian in. He is the anonymous tip that is going to lead the authorities to Cassian, Bix, the buyer, and even him. In doing the "morally" correct thing according to the system he exists in, he was going to endanger everyone he loves and himself. Why? Jealousy? Because he felt threatened by Cassian? Because he was suspicious and insecure? It's going to cost him everything, namely Bix.

Timm plays an integral role in the surveillance state and the control that the government maintains over the populace. "If you see something, say something" doesn't work if no one's saying anything. But at the same time, if everyone's afraid and suspicious of their neighbor, what community do you have to organize against injustice? Your neighbor is a part of the surveillance state and they think you are too. Whether it's insecurity or a strict sense of right and wrong, there will be people driven to uphold the status quo. Timm is the spy next door.

There are countless stories of real people who lived under authoritarian regimes talking about the danger and importance of dinner parties. One glass too many and you might let something slip. There are stories of people who kept secrets from their spouses for years. There are stories of people who had a friendly chat with a neighbor and the police showed up the next morning. There are stories of someone muttering under their breath in a public space and the person sitting next to them at the train station or the coffee shop either demands their papers or turns them in.

When white people think of who upholds and plays a part in an oppressive system, they think of officers who pull the triggers or force prisoners to dig graves. They don't think of a woman who knits socks for her son on the front, or a neighbor or lover or confidant who tips off the authorities maybe out of insecurity or maybe out of a misplaced hope of protecting their own, or the towns people who ignore prison camps or labor camps. They don't consider the "small" actions or the inaction or the normalization of surveillance.

And that is why it's so important we see Timm Karlos on screen portrayed in the way he is as an insecure and maybe petty man who can't be bothered to mind his own or play it cool or trust his significant other. It's important that he's not portrayed as a completely morally upright or completely morally corrupt person, but as a very average man who will make questionable decisions and, like the average white person, has a stake in the preservation of the status quo.

[culmaer]

hello! im a french person whose mother is a white afrikaner, and i was just in south africa and visited the western cape. i do not speak afrikaans but visited the taal afrikaans monument and museum, which had a lot of interesting stuff about muslim slaves in the cape and their influence on afrikaans' development as a language, as well as the fact that the first written afrikaans texts were in fact in arabic script. if it doesnt bother you too much, do you know of any good english-language books or articles on the subject? im now really interested in learning more. thank you so much and have a wonderful day!

I actually have an unfinished post about this very topic, which has been in my drafts since 2019. which is a bit embarrassing

research into the rôle of brown people (the slaves, Cape Malays, as well as the Khoekhoe and San/Bushmen) in the history of Afrikaans has only really taken off since the 1990s, which is pretty recent, so there's not a lot published yet (there was some work done before the 90s, but as it didn't conform to the apartheid regime's narrative it wasn't mainstream or widely published). and of course, unsurprisingly, most of the research being done is in Afrikaans

luckily, perhaps The Best source on the topic is in English ! "The Afrikaans of the Cape Muslims from 1815 to 1915" by Achmat Davids (eds. Hein Willemse & Suleman E Dangor) published posthumously by Protea in 2011. this is a fantastic book. it focuses specifically on the Afrikaans of the Cape Malays (descendants of the slaves brought to the Cape) and on Afrikaans written in (a modified) Arabic script, a practice also called Jawi. It also gives an overview of like all the research which had been done up to that point which is great. this is absolutely the first text to read if you're doing research on this subject

the trouble is, this book is out of print and I've been unable to source a copy for the last 8 years. my uni library had a copy so I have read the book and can recommend it, but just note that a library is probably your best bet to find it

the book is based on Davids' 1991 MA thesis, which is archived on the University of the Western Cape website. the thesis is like 300 pages long, so full of information and definitely worth consulting if you can't find the book. I'd then suggest looking for any English citations in his bibliography if you still want to read more

Davids also wrote a couple of shorter articles and essays, which you should be able to find online or through google scholar/jstor etc. if you can't, lmk I may still have them downloaded on an old harddrive somewhere.

there is also a more recent collection of articles which focuses on the contributions of brown folks in general to the development of Afrikaans, and also includes sociological discussion, not just linguistic. I was so certain that there was an English translation. but I can only find reference to the Afrikaans edition online. I've decided to mention it anyway in case other folks who can read Afrikaans find this post. the books is "Ons kom van vêr: Bydraes oor bruin Afrikaanssprekendes se rol in die ontwikkeling van Afrikaans" edited by WAM Carstens & Michael le Cordeur, published by Naledi in 2016.

[corrupt-collective]

tell me a bit about alla yall!! some fun facts if youre feeling up for it!

-🦷

Oo, thank you for the ask! We had a bit of a hard time thinking of random facts, but I think this will do! We actually had a lot of fun answering this, once we got into the rhythm.

CAPTAIN

- Most of us actually know very little about the captain, other than some basic information such as their pronouns and that they are in a relationship with Meteor / Engineer Mark.

- They have source memories of not only ISWM, but also WKM and the other choose-your-own-adventures.

- Always wearing their captain's uniform in headspace, space helmet and all. This prevents us from knowing what they even look like.

- If it wasn't obvious, they are a very private person and don't really talk much. /lh

CELINE

- She loves crystals. Their favourite is black tourmaline, which is believed to protect from negative energy.

- She firmly believes in spirits and such. To the point she is rather quick to become worried about that kind of thing.

DARK

- Actually doesn't really like being referred to as Damien (let alone Celine). It reminds them too much of their past. Wilford and Celine can get away with it, however.

- Follows what we know of source pretty closely, in the way that Dark is mostly comprised of Damien and the house entity, and Celine is sleeping / not present.

- When he is first coming to front, we sometimes see things with a red and blue "aura" around them. This normally lasts a couple of minutes, at most, but felt note-worthy.

- For the duration of him fronting, colours often appear more dull to us. Not quite black and white, but certainly less saturated, if that makes sense.

MARK

- Actually the second most separated from source of all of our introjects, Markiplier related and otherwise. Being a factive (of Markiplier), he tries his best to stay somewhat different from source.

- Unsurprisingly, he loves playing video games. Some of his favourites are Subnautica, The Last of Us, Phasmophobia, and video game adaptations of board games and card games (Uno, Monopoly, that kind of thing).

- His favourite colour is forest green, red coming as a close second.

METEOR

- We spent a long time looking for a space-themed name for Meteor, as the name "Mark" was already taken by the time Meteor split. An embarrassingly long time, actually.

- Lovesick fool for the captain /affectionate. When Captain comes to front, Meteor is sure to follow.

- Much like Captain, he is also often found in his uniform in headspace.

WILFORD

- Completely fine wearing clothes designed for any gender. Dresses and skirts included.

- He is the only one of us with a partner (who is another alter) that is outside of our own system. None of us really mind that fact, though.

- Loves baking. Cakes, brownies, pies, you name it. Even if he doesn't like what he's baking, he is glad to help.

[adrianasunderworld]

Hiya! So first of all I absolutely adore all of your twst stuff it is my current hyperfixation. Second, combining twst and Pokemon? Genius, amazing wonderful, favorite thing ever. So my question is, have you thought about what Pokemon your OC's would have?

Maybe not like a full team but maybe like a Pokemon that's just there all the time with them (let's assume that NRC, WAI, and RSA let's you have one (1) Pokemon that you can keep with you at all times) Like a Pokemon Lilith Crewel carries for either ✨fashion✨ or as protection y'know?

Not to inject my own stuff in with the au's but I thought of my Yuu/MC having just the littlest baby Larvitar that always wants cuddles from its trainer. (Plz ignore that Larvitar weighs like 160 lbs he's just a baby 🥺)

I'm interested to see if maybe you've thought about it

Love you ❤️

- a shy fan

Aw no need to be shy! and thank you for all the kind words, it's nice to hear when people enjoy my stuff. ^^

As for my ocs pokemon hmm...here are the ones off the top of my head:

My Yuu, Isabelle: She would have a Mimikyu. She's twisted from Belle, and I personally like to headcanon Belle would like ghost types. And Mimikyus whole thing of wanting to be loved and having the disguise would earn Isabelle's sympathy. I like to think she found it in Ramshackle the first night and kept. Because she's from the Obey Me world, spooky stuff doesn't phase her as much, so she wasn't scared and Mimikyu and thought it was cute. Also Umbreon. For similar reasons.

Lily: Lily brought with her a female Pyroar from the Savanna. Because Lily was raised in the wild by animals, or in this au by pokemon, she's very new to the concept of catching. So before she left for White Ash one of her Pyroar siblings went, "I'm going with you, get the ball, don't argue." and that's that. She's very protective of Lily and is one of those pokemon that will jump out the ball whenever they please. Also, Lily has a Applin that she keeps soley for companionship. It was given to her by a girl she knew in the human village back home to remember her.

Phillipa: a Rapidash she had since childhood when it was Ponyta. She also has an Aegislash that likes to spar with her.

Clara: She, unsurprisingly, specializes in fairy types. So her main is a gardevoir that megaevolves, a hatterene, and a togekiss. Along with a little snubull that hangs around her office. 

Lilith: Lilith would have a houndoom, and she treats it like its still a lap dog. Along with an arcanine and both versions of ninetales. Maybe a flareon...she likes them fluffy

Asha: Her companion that she’s had most of her life is a Liepard. It’s been her hunting partner most of her life and it exceptionally trained. She also has a female shiny Luxray. It was gifted to her by Falena as a wedding gift. I like to think in this au, it's tradition for members of the royal family to have a lion pokemon. So when Falena went to the breeder to select a shinx cub for her, one was a shiny and he knew that was the one. 

[your-local-grubdog]

Together in the Storm Chapter 12: Pluto

Story Summary: Olimar is back home once again, ready to rest and recuperate from everything that had happened. Yet the universe keeps throwing unwanted surprises his way, making rest difficult. He just wants to make his (now rather large) family believe that he’ll be okay. Because he is, for he has to be.

Story ratings: No archive warnings apply, Teen and Up Audiences, and General/Non-Ship Focused

Chapter Summary: Nova meets up with a friend to discuss something important.

Read on Ao3 here!

===

To say that Nova was terrified would be an understatement.

He knew that Pollux had his back. If nothing else, he had his most protective friend. And Castor too, though he wasn't out to him yet. But if his brother was safe, then Castor had to be as well... right? He was a man of science and logic after all. Being a dick didn't really line up with that.

Whatever, that wasn't the goal right now. Just one person at a time... he had to talk to Pluto first. He'd been his friend for the longest, technically speaking, and thus the one he was the most afraid of loosing. But his dad was right. He shouldn't be friends with someone who would leave or hurt him over something he can't control. So all he could do now was pray his friend wouldn't be like that.

He awkwardly shuffled to the place the two had agreed to meet up, somewhere public enough to be accessible to the boys but still private enough to give space for this conversation. Unsurprisingly, Pluto was there first, reading a book on robotics in medicine. Pretty typical for him, actually. He had light brown fur, which glowed yellow at the ends from the afternoon sun filtering through it, and coiled black fur at around shoulder length. His round yellow glasses had slid down slightly due to him looking down at the book, his white button-up shirt a little messy and wrinkled. Taking a deep breath, Nova slowly began to approach him.

Pluto looked up as Nova approached, soon smiling as he waved. "Hey Nova!"

"H-Hey Pluto." He awkwardly waved back, one hand firmly in a pocket for comfort's sake. He then sat next down to Pluto, his chest tight.

Pluto quickly put his book away in his black, over-the-shoulder bag, then faced Nova with his full attention. He didn't know if he should be grateful or more frightened by this. "You... Wanted to talk about something?"

Nova nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah, just... Needed to tell you somethin'... Uh..." Already, he was avoiding eye contact as he shifted in place nervously. Pluto stayed quiet, patiently waiting with a soft smile on his face. Nova stayed similarly silent for a few moments, his heart practically threatening to rip out of his chest.

"You okay?" Pluto asked when Nova was quiet for too long.

The taller boy jumped a bit at that. "Huh? Oh, y-yeah, sorry, sorry. I just..." he trailed off then, failing to find his words. He had a plan coming in, one that fell apart the moment he felt any doubt, and without that he was left floundering. He had to know how this would go before saying anything; he had to say it to know how it would go. He hated that so fucking much.

"... It's alright." His friend offered after a few moments. "I promise. Whatever is going on, I... well, I can promise I'll be here, at least."

Nova let out a loud sigh as he leaned against the tree, looking up at the branches. "T-Thanks, man."

"Of course... if... if you can't talk about it now that's fine too, but-"

"No, no. I've been waiting long enough." He groaned a bit then. "Just... one more thing. Promise not to talk about it with anyone unless I give the clear. Okay?"

"I promise."

"My family knows." Nova continued. Well, he hadn't directly told Louie yet, but the man had seen his baby photos. So either his new older brother knew or he was just as dense as their father. Either way, Nova didn't care if it was brought up to him. "And so does Pollux... and no one else yet."

"Alright. I won't tell anyone else. I promise."

Nova let out another sigh, still staring at the tree branches rather than looking at Pluto. Eventually, he decided to just rip the bandage off: "I-I'm trans."

"...oh!" Gods, Nova didn't know how to read Pluto's tone. "S-So are you a trans girl or-"

"I'm a boy." Nova answered quickly and sharply, still trying to calm down.

"Understood." Pluto replied. He then paused for a moment before sighing and reaching for Nova. "Hey, it's okay. I... oh, how to word this...  just - it's okay."

He took a deep breath in and out, relaxing slightly at the touch. "T-Thanks... I've been meaning to tell you, but..."

"Hey, it's alright. Don't worry; you don't... oh how to word this? You don't owe anyone that information." He then chuckled awkwardly. "I mean, you also didn't know I was queer. Until now. So, uh, there's that?"

Oh. Well shit. He forgot that Pluto hadn't told Nova that, though he had told him under a different name and appearance. Still, he knew what he meant, and... Pluto was right. As usual. Nova then let out a sigh, finally able to look over at Pluto again. "T-Thanks, but... remember when we first met at the start of the school year? And - and I said that I knew you?"

"Yes!" Pluto chirped, immediately followed by "OH! We did know each other before?"

At that, Nova nodded. "Yeah. W-We actually met back in second grade, during recess."

Pluto merely nodded along at first, then paused. After a few moments of stunned silence, he asked "W-Wait - you're Stel-" he stopped before he could finish, seeing Nova flinch. "You're...?"

Nova slowly nodded. "Yeah, t-that's me-" he began, only to be cut off by a sudden hug. He squeaked loudly, unsure of what to do, then Pluto pulled away from the hug as quickly as he initiated it.

"S-Sorry, I'm just... I'm glad you're okay! Count yourself lucky we're in public; any longer and I would've broken you in half!"

Nova couldn't help but scoff a little at that. "Please, you're not strong enough to break me."

"Which ought to emphasize how happy I am that... my oldest friend is okay." Pluto's ears drooped slightly then, a warm smile on his face. It was enough to help Nova calm down, too, and even smile back. Before he could think of what to say, however, Pluto continued on with, "I thought you were going to the south end school, though?"

"I was going to. But then I found out I lived on a district border, and could also choose north end, so... s-sorry for not telling you soo-"

"No, no! don't be sorry. Don't be sorry. I'm just glad you're okay and..." he paused for a bit before giggling. "Gods, we still managed to become friends again, despite everything"

Nova snorted at that. "Yeah, yeah we did. Lucky, huh?"

"I say it's fate." Pluto chuckled again.

That made Nova's ears wiggle; Pluto wasn't exactly the type to believe in such things. Still, he smiled a bit in response. "... could be," he then sighed, voice barely above a whisper. "Could be..."

[kilannad]

As the Stars Burn On Chapter 26

Masterlist. Ao3.

Enies Lobby

Enies Lobby wasn't called the endless day island for nothing. While the ocean roiled and stormed there was nothing but clear, bright skies over the Judicial Island. Soldiers took up their posts, gossiping about the returning Cipher Pole agents that had just been escorted to the Tower of Justice. While the island was, ultimately, a military base, it also boasted a city for the families of the soldiers, made of red brick and white stone. As far as military outposts went, Enies Lobby was often considered a vacation spot by the soldiers; after all, who would dare to attack one of the three strongholds of the World Government? In all eight hundred years of its existence, not a single person had ever dared, not even the Emperors or the Pirate King himself. Every marine and soldier—which were indeed two different groups—was glad for the peace and relaxation they could enjoy with only a minimal care in the world.

This peace was utterly and completely destroyed with one swift, piercing train whistle. In a black blur of movement, two forms caught the edge of the fencing surrounding the entrance to the island and, with herculean strength, pulled down just enough to turn what was once a blockade into a ramp. Jumping up so that they might catch a ride, the two figures grinned malevolently as a second, unheard of sea train came rumbling off the tracks and straight over their precious gate of white and green stone.

There were few dates that would be marked down in history against the World Government's will; the day that the Straw Hat Pirates invaded Enies Lobby would be one.

☉

For the first time in five long years, CP9 gathered completely. Their chief's office was set at the top of the Tower of Law with a wide sweeping view of the city below. Privately, Kaku had always thought this had more to do with his ego than anything else, but he knew better than to say anything. Spandam was not the sort of man who took questioning his authority lightly and, while the agents themselves all held far more loyalty to Lucci, they were at the end of the day obedient above all else.

Animals on leashes, Kaku thought, then bit his cheek hard enough to bleed. He used to be so good at pressing down his thoughts, especially those leaning towards treason. Yet something about this mission, end in sight and so, so close to putting it all behind him, had put him on the wrong foot. All he could remember was the look on Paulie's face when Kalifa had run out, tears streaming down her face, declaring she'd just seen Nico Robin leave Iceburg's room and now he was dead.

(The worst part of that memory was that he didn't know how much Kalifa was acting. He knew that she liked that job; she didn't have to sleep with anyone, or get hit on, or deal with sleezes of any sort. She was appreciated for her brain and competency and treated decently for it, which was more than could be said for most of her missions. How much was she questioning her place in this, the blood on their hands that Lucci had so easily spilled?)

“Finally!” Spandam laughed, grabbing Franky's face and holding it close. The cyborg struggled, but Blueno kept a hard grip on him. They'd never hear the end of it if Spandam got hit. “Do you remember me, boy? You'll be handing over those blueprints.”

Franky, unsurprisingly, spit in his face.

Spandam kicked him, then proceeded to hop on one foot as he realized he'd just kicked a solid mass of steel. Cursing, he stormed back to his desk to drink his coffee, spilling it in the meantime.

Jabra rolled his eyes, and though Kaku agreed with the sentiment, he had enough control to hide his reaction. Kumadori and Fukurou were muttering their usual nonsense, but Kaku ignored that too, meeting Kalifa's eyes again. Seven CP9 agents and their Chief, holding the last two keys to Pluton; a glorious day of victory for the World Government, and yet he felt ill.

“Nevermind him,” Spandam spat. “Wake up Nico Robin, I want her to witness this.”

“Chief, she's a flight risk,” Kaku dared to point out. They'd had a hell of a time getting her under control long enough to sedate her, nevermind waking her up.

“She's in our hold, there's nothing she can do. Wake her up.”

Kaku hid a frown in the high collar of his jacket, standing fluidly as he pulled out the antidote. He'd never liked Spandam, but he'd at least never put them in active danger outside of mission parameters. This however, was plain stupidity. Nico had managed to escape every marine and soldier she'd ever run into in the last twenties years, and if it wasn't for her being unconscious during the ride, he was certain she would've thrown herself into the sea to get away from them.

She'd been cuffed in seastone back on Water 7, and Kaku had been carrying her during her transfer. She was a tall woman, but light; her fighting style didn't depend on strength, and she was more dexterous than muscled. Gently, he lifted her arm up and slid the needle into her vein, carefully wiping away the spot of blood when he was done. He hovered over where she laid on the ground for the few minutes it took for her to struggle awake.

“Easy, Nico. You're in the Tower of Law; don't cause us any trouble.” Kaku helped her sit up, placing her against the wall, before he retreated back to his spot by the door. There was a crawling sensation under his skin, and he couldn't tell if it was coming from the Devil Fruit he'd been gifted after arriving or something else.

“Nico Robin,” Spandam cackled. “How I've longed for the day for you to be in my grasp.”

☉

Ten thousand soldiers and marines; a wall, an army, standing between them and Robin.

They didn't stand a chance.

In the distance, so gargantuan they took up the entire horizon, the Gates of Justice loomed in a mockery of the time limit they faced. The Franky Family was a furious cavalry charge, smashing into the first, scrambling together lines of defense with all the power of a wrecking ball and all the fury of a family scorned. The first gate was nothing to them, and they charged over the thin bridge that held the second. The island floated in the air, a hole cut into the ocean with an all-consuming waterfall leading into the pit of hell itself.

Lucy kept to her whip and close-combat training, conserving as much magic as she possibly could. There was a good chance she'd face stronger opponents and she dared not overextend herself. Luffy had long since rocketed himself forward, and deeper behind enemy lines, leaving the remaining Straw Hats to hold the rear while the Franky Family secured them a path forward. It didn't take long for them to hit the second, inner gate, high on victory and prepared to stampede their way forward. The sounds of battle were deafening, steel clashing on steel, people screaming and falling. It was like Alabasta but so much worse at the same time. So bad that they didn't hear Laxus's warning until it was too late.

They came from above with a thunderous landing that sent the world spinning and shaking. Usopp screamed, but for once it sounded more excited than pants-wetting terrified as, with a rumble of laughter, two giants descended in front of the gates. The Franky Family skittered back, several dozen knocked away in one fell swoop.

“It's the middle of the night, Oimo,” one of them whined.

“You're right, Kashi. Let's finish this quick and go back to bed.”

They were humongous, Lucy realized, heart rabbit quick in her chest. Larger than Gramps got, and quick to boot. It was no wonder that giants were called the strongest race; they began decimating their front lines, the half-giants the Franky Family had absolutely nothing in the face of the genuine article.

Oimo lunged forward, going for Sodom, one of the giant yagaras; an explosion to his face interrupted him, sending him rearing back. Kashi paused in his assault to whirl towards his partner. “Oimo!” An explosion caught him at his wrist, and his ax dropped heavily to the ground. The Franky Family took the opportunity, closing in using their yagaras to wrestle him down.

Lucy looked around, catching sight of Usopp standing on top of where the Rocketman had crashed landed, biting his lip as he fired shot after shot. Oimo roared in fury, only to choke on a tabasco star; Kashi nearly got up, just to get tied down in an explosion of netting. Usopp wasn't using his regular sling-shot, but rather a long handled version, with a far bigger projectile pocket than his previous one. With Usopp providing cover, it didn't take long for the Franky Family to get the giants under control and restrained on the ground.

“No!” Kashi screamed, struggling. The rope must have been reinforced, because it didn't so much as budge. Mozu and Kiwi charged into the gatehouses on either side, unlocking the door so that the three half-giants could begin pushing the door open; Oimo began crying.

Their group began rushing through, running past the giants even as they continued to scream and struggle. Lucy hesitated, but in the end went when Nami pulled her along. Only Usopp hung back.

☉

It had been months since he'd last seen a giant up close, but Usopp hadn't forgotten how big a shadow they cast. There were days when all he could think about were Dorry and Brogy on Little Garden and the stories they'd told of Elbaf. An entire island filled with nothing but warriors who lived their lives with honor and bravery; it was his dream. Yet here, brought low by his amunition—he brought down giants, holyshit, what the fuck—were two of their members weeping openly.

“H-hey!” Usopp called up, waving his hands at one of them.

Oimo's face, wet with tears and snot, twisted into an ugly grimace. “If you're here to laugh-”

“I would never!” Usopp denied. “I could never mock warriors for fighting their best.” It seemed to calm the giant some, as he sniffled. Kashi, nearby, used what remaining strength he had to reach out and grab Oimo's hand.

“We've failed,” Kashi wailed. “Oh, Chiefs, forgive us! We've failed you and God Elbaf!”

“You're from Elbaf, right?!” Usopp demanded. “Then why are you here?”

“We made a deal,” Oimo admitted. “We were pirates, see, but a hundred years ago our chiefs challenged each other to an honor duel and we all split up. Fifty years passed, but they never came back. When Kashi and I were captured looking for them, we found out that the marines had captured them. We were promised that if we guarded these gates for one hundred years they'd be set free.”

Usopp stared blankly at him, puzzle pieces lying at his feet and rapidly painting a picture he couldn't stand. “That's a lie,” he breathed. Then, louder, “That's a filthy lie!”

“How dare you call us liars!”

“Not you. Your chiefs, it's Dorry and Brogy right?”

“How did you...”

“Because I met them! They aren't captured; for the last hundred years they've been fighting honorably on Little Garden! The marines are nothing but filthy liars!”

☉

There were so many people, Luffy had to admit to himself. And worse? Most of them were weaklings that did no damage but slow him down. He couldn't afford to be slow; Lucy and Nami had been very clear that they were on a time limit to get Robin back and he'd be a vegetarian before he lost her for good.

☉

“Lily!” Gajeel called. The giant cat sent one man flying, then a whole row of them, but twitched his ears back to show he was listening. “Head forward and find Luffy! He needs to be conserving his strength, not dealing with these small fries.”

In a swift movement of magic, Lily shrunk and sped into the air, faster than the eye could track as he vanished deeper into the city. The city was a mess of tight streets and tall stone buildings, packed full with enemies. The Franky Family had taken Gamora and gone storming down the main street straight for the courthouse, while the Straw Hats scattered among the back alleys. So far, Laxus's plan was working perfectly; it made Gajeel paranoid. In his experience, the better a plan went in the beginning, the more fucked it would get at the end.

In time, though, he rendezvoused with everyone in the courthouse, faced with a three headed-judge and a dozen massive criminals, each carrying a literal ball and chain. On the bright side, the giant frog Yokozuna they'd once tried to eat was fighting alongside them.

“Just once,” he muttered, “I want to go somewhere and fight normal enemies.”

“Stop your bitching,” Laxus snipped. “Luffy and Lily are on the roof. And they aren't alone.”

☉

Outside, marines and soldiers cheered as Oimo and Kashi, famous for their strength, stood up once more.

Then they all started screaming when it became very clear that they were terminating their employment, effective immediately.

☉

Luffy eyed the tower on the other side of the gaping chasm. It was a fair distance, so far he wasn't fully sure he could rocket his way over. It wasn't really a choice though; Robin was somewhere on the other side.

Instinct, more than anything, had him dodge to the side as a door in the air opened and a figure lunged out, finger fist. Pantherlily, six feet tall and Bustermarm at full size seemed to materialize out of nowhere; the two jewels in its hilt glowed red as he blocked Blueno, the following explosion sending him flying back and across the long, flat roof of the courthouse.

“The others are on their way up,” Lily told Luffy. “Let me handle him, Captain.”

“Shishishi, okay!”

“You must be the living weapon that escaped Navarone,” Blueno noted. “A Devil Fruit user, I presume.”

“No,” Lily told him honestly. “A Straw Hat Pirate.” He shifted his stance, preparing to attack. “And we'll be taking our archaeologist back.”

“I'm afraid I can't allow that.”

Blueno disappeared, the air opening and folding around him again. Lily didn't twitch, senses alert. He'd faced teleportation magic before, and this wasn't so different. The lacrima in his sword were dull, but brightening every moment.

The air displaced and Lily pivoted, sword swinging down and around, coming back up in a crosscut that would make Erza proud. Blueno froze in place, body locking up; Bustermarm bounced off his skin. Lily barely brought it up enough to block the following kick of razor wind.

“Sanji mentioned your martial arts abilities,” he noted idly.

“The six powers can turn any master into a superhuman weapon,” Blueno said. “My Iron Body is impenetrable.”

Lily rolled his wrist, staring him down. In a flurry of blows, he closed the distance. Blueno weaved through them like a stalk of grass, letting his body bend as it would. Rolling back to put distance and reevaluate, Lily miscalculated Blueno's speed. As fast as any aera an exceed could produce, he was in front of him again, finger piercing out. It caught Lily's shoulder, blood blooming as Blueno's leg came back around. Instinct took over, and Lily let his body bend back. Bustermarm came around, but Blueno was already gone.

“Ah,” Lily breathed. “So that's how it works.” His ears picked up the sound of the crew running upstairs. It was about time they finished this.

“What?” Blueno asked, but it was already too late. Aera pulsing through his body, increasing his speed to a mockery of shave, Lily moved. Blueno brought up his Iron Body, bracing himself fully; Lily appeared from above, muscles in his arms locking up, blood pumping quicker and turning his strength monstrous as Bustermarm came down, shattering through Blueno's Iron Body. Blood scattered against the roof; the lacrima reached bright, full red.

Blueno fell into one of his air doors, gasping as he reoriented himself and pressed a hand to the gaping flesh of his chest. Tiny holes in the air appeared, just big enough for his fingers to dart through. Lily bent out of the way of each, managing to avoid being perforated by a hair each time. Cursing vividly in his pocket dimension, Blueno shifted position. In a rush, he opened a door at Lily's back, kicking out in a swift tempest kick.

With a fluid spin, Lily turned and knocked the bladed air away, spinning his sword and coming back up as Zoro had been teaching him for weeks. The air sharpened, narrowed; Blueno didn't have time to close the air door. He gasped wetly as the attack hit, sending him flying out as his power collapsed, his body slumping against the ground.

“That's one down,” Gajeel announced as he broke out, the rest of the crew close behind him. Pantherlily took the hand to his shoulder gratefully, knocking his head against Gajeel's in solidarity.

“Guys,” Laxus called. “We're about to have company.”

☉

It was easy enough to recapture Franky and Nico. The latter seemed to be in some state of shock, and Kaku kept a firm hold on her cuffed hands. He told himself it was to prevent her from trying to escape, and had nothing to do with her injuries—she hadn't been bleeding and bruised when he'd left her alone with Spandam earlier. Why they hadn't simply killed her yet when they had Franky in their hold he couldn't guess. Clean kills were always preferable.

Fukurou had his foot pressing down on Franky, the shattered glass scattered at their feet as they all settled on the balcony. Below and across, standing atop the courthouse, the entire Straw Hat crew spread out. Not counting Nico Robin, there were ten of them; the two animal warriors, the four with bounties, one long nosed sniper, the smoking chef from the train, and a blonde woman that had fought Kalifa on Water 7. They lined up at the edge of the roof, faces drawn tight in fierce determination. Ten rookie pirates against six master killers; it should've been hilarious. Yet Kaku couldn't bring himself to laugh. The fact they'd gotten all the way through Enies Lobby spoke more of their strength than any previous interaction he'd had with them.

“No,” Robin whispered. Then, louder, “Why would you come?! You should've abandoned me here; just let me die!”

Spandam cackled. “Oh yes. Don't worry, Nico Robin. You'll be dying when we're finished with you.” Straw Hat's face twisted in rage, but Spandam was still talking. Where Thunder God stood by the blonde woman, the air crackled with lightning. “Do you see that flag, pirates?” Above, the five circles of the World Government cross flew high and proud. Kaku couldn't think of a single person in the world who didn't know the symbol. “That represents over 170 countries; it's the world itself! Do you understand? The world wants Nico Robin dead, and I'll be the one to deliver her! Hahaha! There is nothing you can do.”

Kaku didn't deny it, even to himself. He'd grown up on an island made for training orphans. For over two decades, he'd borne witness to the strength of the world and the destiny of those who defied it. He delivered Justice and knew it was all consuming. Not even the Emperors would stand against it for long; even now, they kept to their one sea, staying away from where they dared not go.

“Yeah,” Monkey D. 'Straw Hat' Luffy agreed. “I understand. Usopp!” He lifted a hand up, pointing a single, damning finger at the symbol of the world itself. “Burn down that flag.”

And he did it. He did it. There were no words to express the shock and horror that rippled out, the sheer, mind boggling terror that someone would attack a flag of the World. In one swift, beautifully horrible movement, Usopp pulled back his massive slingshot and fired. A red bird of flame burst into life, swallowing the flag whole and scattering its ashes to the wind.

Flags were sacred, personal things. They were symbols to rally behind and swear to. They were the end all, be all, of loyalty. To merely touch one was a great insult; to burn one?

“War,” Kaku couldn't help but breathe. “They've just declared war.”

“Robin!” Luffy bellowed in the sudden, unending silence Enies Lobby, the entire world, had been cast into. “Tell me you want to live!”

In his arms, her breath hitched, her whole body tensed. Then she lunged forward, and only years of training let Kaku reboot his brain enough to hold her back. “I want to live! Take me away from here, take me back to sea with you!”

“You fools!” Spandam screeched. “Do you understand what you've done?! You can't declare war on the whole world!”

“Yeah? I think I just did.”

[bllsbailey]

Bill Barr Scoffs at Suggestions Trump Wants to Kill His Enemies, Says Press Takes Him 'Too Literally'

Bill Barr, who served as attorney general under Donald Trump, laughed off suggestions from the biased media that the former president actually wants to have his political enemies murdered in cold blood. 

Although Barr and Trump's relationship soured after the former AG refused to back some of the 45th president's arguments that the 2020 election was stolen from him, Barr surprised some when he endorsed Trump in the '24 race.

See:

Trump Responds to Bill Barr's Endorsement As Only He Can in Humorous Fashion

Barr continued to defend the former president Thursday when he appeared on CNN's "The Source" with host Kaitlan Collins and said that the biased press takes Trump "too literally" when he uses obviously sarcastic rhetoric and that they often try to drum up controversy when there is none there. Actually, that last part about drumming up controversy is my take, but it's the natural conclusion from Barr's remarks. 

"Journalists" took the completely normal use of the word "bloodbath" and turned it into a national outcry, yet were dead silent when crazed Democrats accused Biden's chief political rival of wanting to execute people.

Compare and Contrast:

Media Fail Compilation: 'Bloodbath' Headlines in Lockstep With DNC Talking Points

Unhinged Hillary Clinton Accuses Trump of Wanting to Be Like Putin and Murder His Enemies

In his conversation with Collins, Barr said Trump was prone to saying outlandish things, but in the end, he simply doesn't "think the threat is there."

Watch (and yes, I know that the CNN chyron unsurprisingly obsesses over other matters):

🚨 Barr inadvertently reveals that Trump called for executions on multiple occasions during his presidency. Barr mentioned that he didn't take these calls seriously, as Trump could be talked out of it befores any executions were “carried out”. pic.twitter.com/7DOe5uOmk1— The Intellectualist (@highbrow_nobrow) April 27, 2024

Here's how it went down, much to the chagrin of the CNN anchor who obviously wanted different answers:

COLLINS: …Alyssa Farah Griffin, who was Trump’s communications director [and who’s now on The View, which tells you all you need to know about her], posted yesterday [Thursday] and said that you were present at a moment when Trump suggested executing the person who leaked information that he went to the White House bunker when those George Floyd protests were happening outside the White House. Do you remember that?  BARR: I remember him being very mad about that. I actually don't remember him saying “executing,” but you know, I wouldn't dispute it… I mean, the president would lose his temper and say things like that. I doubt he would have [laughs] actually carried it out.  COLLINS [aghast]: But… he would say that on other occasions?

You can almost feel Collins' discomfort and annoyance; one can imagine her thinking, "C'mon man! Give me the answer that I want so I can make a viral tweet! Say he wants to kill people, SAY IT!" 

But he wasn't buying what she was selling:

BARR: The president, you know, the president had a… I think people sometimes took him too literally and, you know, he would say things like similar to that on occasion to blow off steam. But I wouldn't take him literally every time he did it.  COLLINS: Why not?  BARR: Because at the end of the day, it wouldn't be carried out and you could talk sense into him.  COLLINS [incredulous]: But just because it's not carried out and you could talk sense into him, doesn’t that still mean that the threat is there? 

Collins should probably have given up there and then, but I guess she thought she was smart enough to trip him up. She was wrong:

BARR: No. I mean, I think—I don't think the threat is there. The thing that I worry about President Trump is not that he's going to become an autocrat and do those kinds of things.  COLLINS: Why not?  BARR: Because I don't think he would, at the end of the day.  COLLINS [clearly getting annoyed that he’s refusing to play her game]: What's the basis for that, that, that understanding that you have? Is it just your own hunch?  BARR: That's my feeling, having worked for him and seen him in action.  I don't think he would actually go and kill political rivals and things like that. 

Barr can be somewhat of a conundrum; he's said things both roundly critical of Trump yet, as noted, recently endorsed him for the presidency anyway. In this interview, however, he's 100 percent correct that Trump's political opponents revel in trying to turn almost anything the former president says into some over-hyped controversy. What makes it more aggravating is that Biden routinely "jokes" about wanting to punch Trump—which would be an obvious act of political violence—yet the press just ignores it. 

Eat crow, Kaitlan Collins, and look for another story because this dog isn't hunting.

Watch the full interview here.

Yes, Biden did:

Ball of Confusion: Joe Biden Bizarrely Threatens Trump Punch in Rambling Mess of a NABTU Speech

[transition-with-the-torah]

Title: Jews Don't Count: How Identity Politics Failed One Particular Identity

Author: David Baddiel

Format / Cost: Audiobook (free via Libby). For reasons I don't know, my library only has access to the audiobook version, and it was approximately 2 hours and 48 minutes (categorized as 'nearly 3 hours'). It was author narrated and released at some point in 2021.

2021 wasn't forever ago, or anything, but also, it felt like recounting a slice of British Twitter from about 2015 to no later than October 2020 [and the release of a particular report about antisemitism within the Labour Party] happened so long ago. Granted, talking about antisemitism isn't exactly something that seems to not be relevant. The basic idea wasn't that hard to grasp - Jews are viewed by Progressives as not actually counting as a marginalized group - and unsurprisingly, a lot of the examples pull from British culture: that one football club and derogatory use of 'Yid', T.S. Eliot poems read on BBC that ignored antisemitic language, Roald Dahl and his estate's sort of apology over antisemitism while Roald Dahl Day is seemingly popular, casting non-Jewish people to play Jewish actors in specific theatrical productions (relating to BAME casting efforts), and the like.

(This has been tagged as #reviews for personal organization on my blog and may not be considered a complete or satisfying review by others. It continues under the read-more.)

It's not that Baddiel is outright incorrect about his examples and the message he's aiming for, but there's something about the method of delivering that message that seems annoying at times. It might be that one part really has a lot of Twitter and how some people have been Canceled (just not for antisemitism), which requires listening to tweets being quoted. (I really don't want to hear someone try to recreate a laugh like that again.) It might be that some textual phrasing winds up feeling very blunt and not that hard to interpret uncharitably. It might also be that post-October 7th, it seems odd to skip over antisemitism based on treating diaspora Jews as Israeli, loyal to Israel, or acceptable outlets for I/P frustrations because of Baddiel's 'I'm in the diaspora so who cares about Israel' approach.

Mostly, some parts feel like they're useful for non-Jews to get a sense of how antisemitism didn't magically stop with the Holocaust. The idea of a hierarchy of racisms - where the proximity to US based Black vs White racism is recognized as racism with racism against other groups descending in recognizability - might ruffle some feathers. On paper, the idea could work for some non-Black groups, particularly outside of the US with US ideas of racism taking up most of the oxygen, but the actual conversations Baddiel references about this seem to suffer from being Twitter based and may not feel reflective of Black experiences either. (To me, this idea of a hierarchy of racisms is about recognizing racism as happening, but the idea that different racisms are treated as more important than others may not feel true to lived experience.)

Overall, I think this book can be a conversation starter for some readers, but it's definitely not going to feel like it manages to cover everything. Viewing Jews as too rich, too socially powerful, and/or as too close to being White and therefore 'Jewish racism isn't a thing' can explain some aspects of antisemitism, but there were some moments where I thought looking at other conditionally-white groups and seeing similarities in not being 'fully white' might have worked better than contrasting with Black racism examples.

Posted: 18 March 2024.

[collymore]

White alleged Britons fully attendant with likewise stupid UK non-whites who really love grovelling!is to me unquestionably the essence of stupidity.

By Stanley Collymore         Interesting, but unsurprisingly     rather stupid, that the very     Daily Mail readers and     hacks, who loathe Rishi Sunak as     their own, or actually much more   to the point and aptly pertinently     so, Britain's Prime Minister; very     vitriolically effectively complain     that he wasn't voted into power;     discernibly, obviously fatuously     unaware these ignorant clowns     that in the UK you literally vote     for the political party, and very     simply not the ultimate person     who obviously, becomes Prime     Minister. Yet rather implacably,   these crass, Daily Mail morons     are obviously the same prized     assholes, who'll literally stand     and fight, they very boastfully     claim, for a rather discernibly     really unelected Middle Ages     mindset and actually likewise     too, a distinctively manifestly     and a rather blatantly clearly     irrefutable, unrepresentative     and a literally unaccountable     to the basic population of the     United Kingdom, undeniably     incestuously inbred ménage!         A royal and unquestionably     superior family to these     airhead morons, to     obviously essentially, quite simply     and permanently, carry on as the     inevitably unchallenged basically   obviously pathetically but deeply     entrenched all the same, feudal     entity inside of Britain naturally     in the 21st Century, and really     quite luxuriously, clearly, and     irrefutably, rather empowers     them to carry on living their     basically quite unparalleled     lives of Riley very evidently     and similarly automatically,     at the actually unconsulted     taxpayers expense for truly     effectively doing bugger all.         And all this very clearly and     likewise rather delightedly     also, quite thoroughly on     their part simply concomitant with     actually treating the population of     the UK effectively as their literally     entitled serfs; and quite obviously     undoubtedly so with clearly good     reason it would seem as basically     loads among Britain's population     evidently, naturally love showing     their faces, metamorphically but     rather sycophantically never the     less, up these discernibly brazen     cum noxiously, odious Windsors     asses in their evidently rampant     brownnosing sycophancy. Quite     sadly, and distinctly pathetically     gullibly deluding themselves as     only, crucially characteristically     inured and obviously manifest,     very significantly, degenerately     ingrained white Britons, simply     attendant with, their assuredly     barbaric kin across the globe's     undeniably clearly genocidally     acquired and perpetually kept     countries which they now call     their own yet quite essentially     still stupidly, regarding Britain     as quite exclusively their own     and their ongoing entrenched     sycophancy towards, and too   overt adoration, of this British     royalty as a relevant tradition.         (C) Stanley V. Collymore     4 January 2024.             Author's Remarks:     Tradition? Most certainly not what any genuinely intelligent and very rational person with absolutely nothing to gain form it and who's actually looking at it rather objectively would really demean themselves by calling it! At best simply an evidently ongoing occurrence in the case of the British monarch specifically amid the panoply of clearly supportive fantasies that it evidently undoubtedly, and significantly rapturously entwines itself with; but incidences, undeniably, whose dubious transmission of clearly arguable customs and unquestionably unverified assumptions, nevertheless, from one generation to the next simply without scrutiny, or crucial knowledge to either suggest or ascertain correctly what will happen in the future is to me unquestionably the essence of stupidity.